{We can never truly control randomness, yet it doesn't mean not that we ignore it. We view it as an indifference, a thing we should spend time on but only what it is worth. It may have an effect, it may not - yet we shall criticize ourselves when we ignore something that turns into something crazy or, in other times, yields no fruit. The point is to spend our time wisely and to learn from the randomness of the universe to learn the irrationality of such... With atemporality, for which the NeoLiberal World makes the Universe's atemporality look orderly, I grant this post to @bananafish's "FinishTheStory" in their 33rd iteration, their ”Mizu No Oto” contest in its 7th iteration and hereby declare an "official" version to the The Void of Tesseract-19 in this post... Today's music-aides: "They Watch Our Every Move" [1.] "The Path Integral" [2.] and "No One Rides For Free (remix)" [3.] (In respective order: Entropy: Zero, Project Borealis and repeat of the first OST).}

[Photo taken by @f3nix.]

Castillo allá,
la fortuna sagrada -
antes de eso.

Castle over there,
that was the sacred fortune -
then in ancient times.

那边的城堡，
那是神圣的财富 -
然后在古代。

Banner created by @f3nix

The Right man in the wrong place:

Prompt by @dirge

“I’m not going in there.” Imani took a drag from her cigarette and put her muddy boots up on the dashboard. “I’m going to sit here until the sun comes up. I don’t want to live anymore.”

Isaac groaned. He glanced at his watch. They had twenty minutes till sun up. “Hiraam and Kat are inside waiting on us.” He turned off the car.

“I hated Hiraam a hundred years ago and I hate him today. You know that.”

“I know, Imani. But it’s not like we have a whole lot of fucking options.”

She scoffed. “Here you go. Angry as always. You know, you’d think that someone could handle their fucking anger issues after a few hundred years but. Well. You’re kind of a living betrayal of that idea.”

“Eloquently spoken from a drama queen,” he murmured. Isaac rummaged through his coat pocket for a blunt. “What’s it this time? General depression? PTSD from the bloodshed? Bored with the general state of things? Let me guess. It’s just too hard now, right? Now that they’ve all gone and dropped the bioweapons on each other? Now that they’re too sick for us? Just too much work for little Miss coffeeshop revolutionary. Little Miss Make A Revolution For Fun.”

“Far more interesting to participate in their history then sit around painting all day.” Imani tossed her cigarette out of the window and lit another. Isaac lit his blunt and stared at her smoking. So beautiful in the moonlight, her black skin was smooth and supple after their recent kill. It was this time that they’d usually go back and enjoy themselves, let out whatever violent energy that had on each other before blacking out.

“You’re not serious,” he said. “This is just-“

“You’re right.” She turned to him and he saw between the growing high that she was serious. “You’re right. I don’t want to bother. There’s hardly any of them left anymore, and the ones that are still alive are all armed and fighting. It’s too much work, Isaac.”

Isaac hit his blunt and thought it over. She was right. It was different now. He glanced up at the sinking moon. The sky had shifted from the starry blackness to a deep bruised purple. Isaac was ready to speak again, to try and change her mind, when the door to the warehouse opened. Hiraam stepped out, his hands up in that universal sign of surrender. Behind him stepped three men in camo. One held a shotgun to Hiraam’s back.

“Shit!” Isaac ducked and pulled Imani down.

“How many?” she asked.

“Three.”

“Human?”

“Didn’t see.”

Isaac opened the car door. Imani hesitated. He pulled her out of the car. They ran behind trees.

Imani sat as he scouted. His eyesight shifted to inferred. The man with the gun and his buddy flared hot red. But the third one was ice blue. “Two humans,” he said, creeping back down. “The big one with a beard is vamp.”

“Smell pot?” the vamp asked

Ending by @theironfelix

[1.]

“Unclear, V-1 investigate disturbance.”

“Roger, fortify hostage.”

With such, vampiric taps approached the smell. Hands stretched, he brushed the bush aside to reveal wild-Appalachian weed. Breathing calmed, his eyes scanned but found no tracks. Stroking his beard, the vamp floated back to his detail.

Moments later, the bush cushioned two falling bodies; those bodies retreating to the forest. Meeting at the dungeon hatch, Isaac used the key and both descended. Reaching the cell, Imani banged on the bars - waking the prisoner. The prisoner spouted:

“I was only heading to the Appalachian...”

“Hush, we got threats incoming.”

“Threats, Sir Isaac? You’re recruiting a prisoner?~”

“Unfortunately.”

“Hmm… Two favors, then I’ll help.”

“Isaac...”

“Not now Imani...”

“... Well?... So I request the ability to repair the robot next cell over and I get to walk outta here with that machine and my gear.”

“Fine. But take only what’s yours! How long for repairs?”

“20 minutes max. Got spare time?”

Two cell doors slung open as the prisoner put down Sun Tzu’s Art of War. With repairs initiated, the vampires flew out. Alone, he flicked the I/O switch on knowing they hadn’t pecked with his repairs. Stepping away, he stated:

“We got bail.”

“Great, the price?”

“My guess: some old society agents. Realistically, a whole forest littered with them.”

“Well, got access to the armory?”

He chuckled as they prepared for war; as machine parts were oiled and he grabbed his Nagant, sniper mask and leatherneck. Elsewhere, Hiraam was weapon-butted continuously as the vamp chuckled. Exploring, he found and collapsed the treasure vault door; pilfering some weed, he returned to see only a blood pile in place of the three. Sniffing, a shot rang deathly close to him; he tensed up. Another shot rang out and deathly close ‘twas, aggravating the vamp more. Finally the robot spoke:

“Ah! A vamp, I haven’t seen such for three decades. The last spotted on the Seven Seas! Anywho: time to walk the plank!”

The Vamp and the robot pounced at each other, both stretching outwards before the big strike. They collided, both countering their first strike! Both flew back, yet the bot landed first and pounced again. Achieving the jump, the hands switched to blades and the vamp was pierced. With a clean trajectory, the prisoner scopped in and took the shot.

That shot was piercingly loud in spite of the forest’s foliage. Hunkering on the branches, the vampires saw another swarm of old society agents rushing. Their waves never-ending, yet reeked with fear in all of them.

At the warehouse, wires of ‘splosives and placements were strewn about. The day had only begun for the pair, even when the vampire’s shift ended.

{Before I go, I must stress again this is the “original” version - not that this was the first published nor the “original” original. I did had in mind to create one without including the Grunt and sapling scene, which changed the beginning and ending for sure. Yet for sure the Grunt made me rewrite some middle-section scenes… Yet now to the actual reason to post this now and not later: this earlier posting is to make up for tipsy, tired and dense 500-word ending that I cited earlier. As I detailed to @bananafish’s reply, I shall not bear repeating anything. You can check my ending and the reply to @bananafish’s reply from the post’s beginning or after the story had concluded. What I shall detail is the Bananafish realms discord conversation where I did slip out the reason for my tipsiness and tiredness: me “being down on my luck” but displacing that until I help my friends feel happy, as I cannot feel happy until they’re... Of course there’s more than that, but there’s a thing called discretion...}

Image Source here

Flipping the script:

[2.]

"Yes, we figure that... since it is a great rival of ours that we shall have the contract. Worry not, you'll still get the credit... Yes, the right man in the wrong place can can make all the difference in the World... Thank you."

A suitcase is placed down, the hinges undone in a slow manner and the suitcase opened with grace. It simply powers off the phone and places it inside, ensuring the snugness in the meanwhile. All the while, the Elder Shu'ulathoi comes around the corner all bloodied on the gas-mask. The Elder ceasing movement, slowly and safely detaches the gas-mask - gasses depressurize all throughout. The suitcase is then snapped closed and once again picked up by It, the Elder simply replies:

"So... what speaks of the acquisition?"

"Why we now rightfully own it... The legionnaires are now in place on the border as to provide for the defence and evacuation later today... Regardless, I hadn't expected the Kunst Meister to be so fast in his journey... we really losing precious time. I shall keep an eye on him, but, as for you, old friend..."

"Tak, tak! I get to enjoy the blood lust today, but... Old friend, humour me that me gear be straight?"

"Of course, just the gas-mask needs repairs."

"Heh, I guess yah be right. That dent can be a true killer, unlike bullets and lasers. Any more attacks there and I'm liable to poison gas!"

"Heh, worry not as poison gas isn't anywhere to be found... At least not yet."

"Well, let's give credence that the Void ain't cowards to resort to gas attacks."

"Stave off the kindness, the end of voidist corruption happens today... I really cannot hold time in such a slow drag forever, and I guess your itch grows for Mulloch's head."

A simple nod exchanged between the two, and such an exchange coincided with two galaxy hoppers forming about. It walking one way to inspect the Kunst Meister and the Elder readying to encounter Mulloch and his great Tesseract-19.

And into the black tunnel of white spirals, where the endpoints certainly collapse in spite of their material existence saying else. Where the pure cacophony of both sides interact in lieu of any true distance between the two. Where travel ever-safe costs the traveller of it being ever-slow. Nearing the end, the Elder reverted to a black-puff form. Yet forgetting to attach the gas-mask on, squeals in pain for the noxious gas surrounding it.

And so the alien shriek traveled and forced a pair of boots to turn about and click on completion. For the Grunt saw the ashen-black puffs and there it reformed itself into a floating slug. Those boots then carefully squeaked around and away from the plant as the Grunt spoke:

"What is an advisor outta regs-?"

"Hast thou forgotten that oure species be disunited, 'specially-"

"Forgive my tongue, neck-haired Elder, but you see Tesseract-19?"

"Indeed, an ærial will be zapp'd."

Cocking his head, a speck in the pale-yellow sky floated about. And both jerked back as Tesseract-19 charged and zapped the ærial. Relaxing his neck, the Grunt came to notice the Elder and the differences to advisors he had came across. For this Elder possessed a red-pulsing eye-tube and three metallic-limbs on each side. The Elder spoke as they attached a gas-mask on:

”In another time, these saplings were commonplace. Yet Moloch’s sin affects Fortuna herself and well... It and I stole the kill contract. Breathe easy, yer squadron be safe and be with the Legios... There be increas’d reports of vestiges near the border. Likewise, time’s runnin’ out and we must buy time for the Kunst Meister.”

Upon snapping on the gas-mask, the Elder floats down and covered the sapling in ashen-black puffs. Soon absorbing that in itself; the Grunt racked their laser rifle in response and spouted:

”So, let the Legend come back to life! Let’s set sail and fly, oh Elder!”

Metallic-limbs clutched and nested the Grunt safe under the Elder. Black puffs began to generate as the Elder looked at the great dune space. Spotting the shield and scanning for a source, it began zipping across the desert. Alarms cried whence a dark myst flew past them; Tesseract-19 hissed loud and generated another batch of punishment. Tesseract-19 spotting the myst began bolting electricity, yet only the ashes were electrically punished for the speeding myst's existence.

Edging closer, the myst torqued up and stood close to the shield. Angering Tesseract-19 as its fire-rate increased to the pestilence defying punishment. However, the sky and ashes can now only see electricity dancing around the myst's trial. Finally, the myst reached the flight's extreme and Tesseract-19 was harmless; withal, electricity was dispensed in one bolt that short-circuited the shields. Before the plummet somewhere off in the distance, the myst saw desert worms flew out. Their voices made the surface fly; yet the myst smirked as it was ready for the fall.

Plummeting, the Elder and the Grunt re-materialized and saw more desert worms erupting from the Earth. A holy scene ‘twas, for now they heard the Core and were maddened by its corruption; now with a chance, they seized the day. But now approaching the front entrance, the plummeting bodies readied for battle. Bursting through the front entrance, Yellow-lit androids engaged lasers down the entrance. Yet the Elder mind-stopped the energy, but returned not their plasma gift. Instead the Elder mind-spoke to them, gurgling in the ears of the Grunt but seemingly mesmerizing to the androids. So, the Grunt plopped to the floor and advanced forwards to the next door.

Yet danced back as once-hidden spider-limb vestiges began stabbing the floor and chased for the Grunt. However, that performance was ceased not so soon after; as the yellow colour flagged into a red light. The spider-limb vestiges now shook, and ‘twas rewarded with a plasma death as rounds were fired upon it. Soon disappearing, the Elder thanked them simply and told them to get ready to liberate the others. Whence ready, the Elder mind-forced the next door away and spoke to the Grunt:

"Grunt, now the robots live. Disconnected from Mulloch, they reconnected back to life's Chaos and Order-"

Their euphoria was broken by the sterile order of spider-limb strikes at anti-Mulloch agents. Soon the Elder and the Grunt began flight, remembering of a certain Kunst Meister. Throughout flight, scenes of a robotic revolt raged on. As yellow-lit androids became red-lit whence seeing of their comrades changing the direction of the muzzle. Vestiges of spider-limbs popping in and out to have at it on the liberated robots. And “human” vestiges poured from The Void, though such reinforcements as noted by the Elder to the Grunt being lackluster. Not in terms of the weaponry or numbers, just in the pure annihilation the robots reflected unto the never-ending waves.

Spotting the nearest elevator, the Elder and the Grunt entered into it. Beginning the ascension once more, both the Elder and Grunt tried catching their breath. But soon couldn’t as chains with spear-tips began piercing through the floor, the Elder always lucky to never receive a scratch. However, the chains never retracted; in fact continuing on as more pierced through and continued the pattern. Yet, with the last chain rupture, they all ceased their movement in synchronicity. A certain cold in the brimming heat of Tesseract-19 began culminating, the Elder wise to check around for materials to transform to weapons on the spot.

With a crazed search going on, all the chains began shaking and began rattling. The Grunt moved to the nearest chain and peaked through the gap created. The Grunt’s eyes picked up on every chain rattling, which surprised not the Grunt. Yet, inching closer to the hole, these holes were unfathomably black and displayed nothing of the parts of the lift below. Catching a hand on the mouth proved futile as bile raced out, for the sight of the chains rattling being caused by climbers gave the necessary distraction.

[3.]

“Hey Elder, stop horsing around! We got tangos on our literal six!”

Sticking the laser rifle to the hole, the Grunt began peppering plasma on the whole vestige army climbing up. The first few morsels vanished as they appeared, yet with time the travel density grew. In the meanwhile, the final crate forced-ripped into pieces uncovered a treasure. Gleaming, a Vulcan laser micro-gun appeared before the Elder and they wielded with four front metallic-limbs. The two on the back equipped a giant laser drill, the Elder scoffed back at the Grunt’s earlier remarks:

“With patience comes virtue, and, as a gun parson, I shall ornate the damned with me plasma now!”

Activating the laser drill, they sliced the chains off while aiding in the Grunt’s peppering below the lift’s platform. One by one, the vestiges fell with the chain, were maimed mid-climb or had both. And with the last chain cut, the lift stopped and declared:

“Apex floor, central hub and Mulloch’s chamber.”

Before the elevator gates opened, the Tesseract-19 shook and blared out:

“Warning: breach at basement occurred, needs immediate security staff reinforcement. I repeat, reinforcements needed at basement. Cause: sandworm invasion.”

The Elder and the Grunt starred at each other and chuckled. Before opening the gates, the Elder dropped the laser drill and inspected their Vulcan while the Grunt reassessing the remaining uses of their rifle. Taking one last stare at each other, they smirked as they nodded. And, as such, the Elder mind-forced the gates out and both saw what they had seen from below. Now they humored joining the battle, they still had some time before the charges were set.

But the Elder sensed the wrongness of the situation in spite of the normalcy of below. Yanking the Grunt back, they began levitating and forming into a dark myst again. For soon the central hub danced wildly, never ceasing whence it started; soon the entire hub torqued and bodies of every type began their readjustment mid-flight. Yet, much to the cowardice of the spider-limbs, they exploited the chance and began piercing the defecting robots. The Elder and the Grunt wincing at every death, decided to not be physical cowards and push forwards.

Yet the Elder took a step further to that motion, opting to slam into the spider-limb vestiges in the dark-myst form. To the shock of the Grunt only, the spider-limbs phased away. The next set of limbs appeared, another ram happened; only now the Grunt picked up on the Elder‘s cacophonies. More spider-vestiges appeared, more the Grunt hearing the Elder’s suicidal shrieks. Shouldering the laser rifle, they began steering and charging the Vulcan; once warmed up, the Grunt began peppering the spider-limbs.

Finally realizing a habit broken, they re-examined the central hub for a gravity-manipulation field device. Spotting one out in the open, they shook the control off the Grunt and sent plasma raining on the device. Soon enough, the room stopped torquing and corrected itself. But the robots wise to the change of gravity took the opportunity to banish more vestiges from Fortuna’s universe herself. Withal, both decided to move to the final stage of their drama and finish the fight.

Reaching Mulloch's chamber, they re-materialized and began assessing the chamber gate. The Elder scanned the Vulcan one last time but detected that it ran its course and was dry. Dropping it soon after, both began pounding on the gate; robots soon joined in on the art project. With one final strike, the doors flew open and revealed what al had come to expect of Mulloch. But as the Grunt twisted back to protect from the escaping dust, the Elder was shaking visibly. Soon the cause apparent as the gas-mask was ripped off and out came black bile. The Elder saw the narrow-eyed and equally shaking Grunt. Reaching a metallic-limb out while fixing the gas-mask, they stated:

“Be calm, me comrade. It be the mere poison of The Void. For merely interactin’ with one for a while or gettin’ damag’d by one… shall result in moments like these… now I must address the Spider in the room… Mulloch, yer time has come! Nae more of yer sin on Fortuna’s great Universe! Descend from thy throne or yah shall be humiliated and hast no honourable death right after!”

Spiders-limbs begin dancing on the floor, each thud and tap enunciated without stop. Mulloch hisses as he fires off a spam of nades into the vicinity of the anti-Mulloch agents. Moving to the side and towards Mulloch, the nades plop once on the floor before bursting mid-air. Such ‘splosions creating a violent black orb that captured some poor robotic souls; though they try to wriggle out, they were soon sliced as the orb collapsed in-on-itself. Yet there was no time to mourn as Mulloch kept pummeling nades on their positions thanks to the nade launcher.

The Elder became lucky as they managed to mind-seize a few nades, lugging back at Mulloch when he reloaded. Of all the rethrown nades, all managed to scare Mulloch back despite not even getting a limb torn off. Dropping the nade launcher, he climbed back on combat throne and injected all his limbs into every combat slot. Soon an array of spider-limbs formed and began dancing on the floor as they blocked the path to Mulloch. The Elder taking a cue from earlier began mind-forcing the spider-limbs chasing after them; succeeding as they stopped the movement and even twisted them around. With newfound weapons and a whimper from Mulloch that had new limb pains, the Elder had at it with the other spider-limbs in the chamber.

One-by-one, each spider-limb was felled and the originally manipulated spider-limbs plunged at each other. Whence the vestiges collided, Mulloch yelped and slumped on the throne; allowing the Elder to mind-pin and mind-drag Mulloch from his combat throne. With such, the Grunt picked up that the spider-limb vestiges disappeared in other rooms. Furthermore, he saw the Meister planting charges on the columns supporting the Core. Meanwhile the Elder's metallic-limbs reformed to plasma:

"Spider of The Void, I banish thee from life. Thus we end the Anti-Void War!"

"Ha, The Void cannot-"

Mulloch's head flies off his spider-corpse and the plasma blades reform back to their metallic-limb form. Soon after a galaxy hopper rips open and everyone rushes towards it, including any surviving robots. In Mulloch's final moments, he eyes on a monitor that It walked towards Kunst and teleported him away before the electric-flame consumed the Core. Not a few seconds after, Mulloch was eaten alive by the electric-flame.

On the other side of the galaxy hopper, the Grunt collapsed to the floor while facing up. The robots were awed by the spiral of light in the black funnel. And the Elder detaching the gas-mask for the last time and casting it off to the side upon full detachment. Sometime after, they all appear on a massive train - the robots opted to sit and the Grunt continued lying on the floor. Soon another person came aboard and the Elder greeted It - It returned the greet.

All but three were frozen in place in the train, the Grunt picked soon up on that seeing how the robot playing pattycake with another robot had ceased motion suddenly. Jerking up, the Grunt saw It handing strange capsules to the Elder, which the Elder grabbed graciously but munched on voraciously. After seeing the sight, It took steps towards the Grunt and offered a hand. Taking Its hands, the Grunt was lifted from the floor with ease. It initiated the conversation first:

“The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the World... For you, you’ve accomplished a great deal in a short amount of time... Which I must say I am impressed. Especially with the demeanor to act quick when something screws up, but to be delicate when the time calls. Anyways, I recovered the sapling from the Elder Shu’ulathoi. Must say ‘twas a good find and I‘m glad you didn’t ignore it... We can rebirth this species and elsewhere if need be. But I see you are war-torned, so you shall have safe passage home... As for the robots, they shall be under my wing since they’ve a chance for bouncing back. And I wouldn’t wish to release a travesty where I need it not. In the meantime, this is where you get off...”

Jolted the Grunt was, soon popping out from the galaxy hopper to land on sandy ground. Jerking up again, he heard the Kunst Meister wheezing blood and approached him. On his way he saw many legionnaires waking up, which prompted the Grunt to turn around. There in the distance a whole desert gobbled up in a pure electric-flame storm, the aftermath of ridding sin of a high kind. Smirking as the Grunt pulled out gazes and rolls, he couldn’t but laugh knowing that the universe did in fact care. Care for the tiny indifferents like him, even if the universe to them was some random mess. For those very acts can indeed make all the difference in the universe...

The New Angel Saga:

@theironfelix - Adviser readjustment

@theironfelix - Shu'ualathoi

@theironfelix - Portal Inferos Scriptor

@theironfelix - Connexione

@theironfelix - The Spirits’ Cave Course

@theironfelix - Pretzel's apocalypse

@theironfelix - Unholy utterance

@theironfelix - A childhood acquaintance

@theironfelix - A Divine Intervention

@theironfelix - Incident 111a

@theironfelix - A campfire story for It

Cited posts:

@bananafish - “Mizu No Oto Contest"

@bananafish - "Finish the story, thirty-second iteration"

@theironfelix - "The Void of Tesseract-19"

@bananafish - "Finish the story, thirty-third iteration"

Cited images

@f3nix - Seventh Mizu No Oto photo

@f3nix - Official Storyteller Banner

Steampunk Gas-Mask