Ships bustled forth, warp drives bending space to their whims as they shot from star to star at many times the speed of light. Immense space stations hosted merchant conventions that determined the fate of hundreds of trade routes. A billion intelligent races thrived, an age of prosperity having bloomed from the carcasses of a thousand wars. Scientific research was shooting forward, discovering new ways to travel, to communicate, and to explore the many nooks and crannies of the universe itself. This post-scarcity society had advanced beyond what could be recognized as human culture, as all the essentials for life could be produced and delivered to everyone at practically no cost. There were no true poor, there was no hunger, and almost all diseases had been eliminated. Trade was focused on delivering luxury commodities, on improving people's lives for a bit of money. It was what many would call a utopia, it's greatest problem being overpopulation.

The Anti-Spiral saw all of this. Or rather, it sensed it. The life force of these beings spread throughout this universe like a fungus, the last remaining disease. A viral infection that couldn't be controlled, too absorbed in their own thoughts to realize the peril they brought. Too arrogant to face the consequences of their actions, these tiny creatures could hardly be considered sentient. They were mere insects, a plague of locusts, eating and spreading and not dying nearly fast enough. But that was what it was here to do, after all. It would cleans this entire universe, annihilate all life as the universe was brought back into balance.

Slowly, an immense black shape moved through the blackness of space. A hand of twisting, unnatural black energies. It's fingers were pillars, thousands of lightyears wide, as they slowly surrounded one of this universe's many galaxies. Traveling at a million times the speed of light, he grasped the galaxy in one hand. He could feel the panic, tiny dots of it as the most advanced scientists suddenly realized that they were enclosed in a wall of unbudging energy. The quick death of the space ships, their warp drives carrying them straight into the infinite density of the Anti-Spiral's body as they were instantly turned to dust. And as he closed his fingers, he could feel the despair spreading from planet to planet, as a billion inhabited worlds looked upon their doom. The last flings of hope, desperate plans doomed to fail from the moment they were enacted. Blasts of energy diffusing harmlessly against his fingers, escape attempts brought to nothing as he enclosed them in a pocket dimension of his own creation.

It took only ten minutes, in total. And in those ten minutes, he inflicted absolute despair upon every race intelligent enough to realize the fate that had befallen them. And as finally his hand clasped down, the last remnants of this galaxy were crushed. The remaining energy was absorbed into his body, erasing any trace of these lifeforms that might have remained. But more life still remained, as the many other inhabited galaxies began their own plans of escape. With a thought, it appeared before the next galaxy. And as their weapons were unleashed upon him, as their ships fled for safety, as their warping technology sought to bring them to safety, he merely reached out. They were mere insects before him, waiting for the boot to fall as they scraped away at his sole with their tiny pincers. And as he once more crushed this galaxy, he felt no mercy, no pity, no remorse. It was the fate of all intelligent life to be annihilated or suppressed, this was the way it had to be. And within a matter of minutes, all that remained was dust.

But there was still life left in this universe...

((Note: This is not to be taken as threat introduction. Nobody here will be fighting the Anti-Spiral head-on. This is just to set the mood.))





Times had been tough in the Lost Worlds. This universe had been specifically selected from millions of uninhabited universes for being as far away from the Anti-Spiral as possible. The many factions involved in it's initial formation had combined their technology to create a series of portals capable of transporting entire planets. A total of 15 separate planets now orbited an artificial sun, their pre-calculated orbits having minimal impact on one another. This plan had of course had devastating effects on the temperature and environment of many of these planets, but even the most severe cases were able to maintain their status as a habitable planet. Halcyon was one such a case, having been turned into a frozen tundra, covered in sheets of ice a dozen kilometers thick. However, genetically modified plantlife had taken hold on this seemingly doomed worlds, and attempts to terraform it to a more pleasant state even now continued.

Of course, those aboard the Saint-Germain Castle were exposed to a far more enjoyable climate. The cold was kept out, and high-powered heating system kept the air temperature constant at approximately 15 degrees Celsius. This was still a bit colder than some would like, but most of the facility's energy was spent maintaining and charging the many high-powered mechs that had been imported to it. While the Lost Worlds Alliance wasn't composed of warrior worlds, many powerful fighters had joined their cause, a surprising number of which utilized giant robots to face their opponents. The Saint-Germain Castly had been stationed on Halcyon, the world with the largest orbit, in order to function as an outpost ready to face any invading force. This would be the first line of defence against the Anti-Spiral if they were to attack, and potentially the last, as the worlds behind it were mostly dedicated to agriculture and science.

While no such attack was expected, all mecha pilots were kept here on standby. It had been promised that soon a new teleporter system would allow them to go on break to other worlds, they were stuck on this frozen wasteland for now. Most of them would be gathered in the cafeterias of this strange island fortress. All they had to amuse themselves was conversation, or asking the staff just how this castle (and island) had been placed on Halcyon. Unfortunately, they seemed about as clueless on the matter as the pilots themselves.

Soon, the sattelites placed in orbit around Halcyon would detect the incoming Anti-Spiral threat. All of those present would be called to action immediately to risk their lives for the continued survival of the many species on the worlds behind them. And while they were each both skilled and powerful, there was no telling if all of them would make it back alive. But for now, there was peace. For just a moment, they were able to get to know each other before the attack.





Long rows of corn moved softly back and forth in the breeze. A golden sea of waving grass stretches out into infinity, the distant silhouette of one of the many massive farming robots on the horizon. The scene was dominated by a large farmhouse, looking no more advanced than such buildings looked a few hundred years ago. Contrasting it's rustic charm was a silver space ship parked diagonally behind it, in one of the few open places remaining around the farmhouse. The insignia of the Lost Worlds Alliance was emblazoned on it's side, carrying the three stripes representing the military branch of the LWA. Normally rare on agriculture worlds, the appearance of the military vehicle had caused some unrest in the surrounding small settlements.

Within, several of the more capable members of the LWA military were clustered around what appeared to be a corpse. They had been called here after a brief Level 3 emergency call had been transmitted from this location. That meant that one or more individuals had been killed, and more victims were expected. It was the highest level of emergency signal most civilians were able to broadcast. Of course this squad had been rapidly deployed to the scene, but what they found was rather baffling. A single corpse could be found in the center of the house, and it was covered in a strange red fungus. Tiny little stalks had emerged from the bipedal alien's body, reaching out into the air. But while this farmhouse was registered as containing a family of five, no other corpses or life signs had been found. Not even an infra-red scan of the area had turned up anything, indicating that the others were also dead.

They would have to figure out what had happened here and how to fix it, because it was clear that something had gone horribly wrong. And although they weren't aware of it yet, potentially the fate of the entire LWA depended on their actions here.

The Sundown Kid stuck out a boot, intending to nudge the alien with his toe, but thought better of it and put his foot back down. Instead he just looked with the others for a moment. He wondered how they felt when they looked at this, but he didn't ask.

God, what a sorry way to die. On a world as pretty as this there was no point in someone ending up in this sorry state, and if that scan was right they might be looking at four more just like this. There was probably all sorts of fancy science he couldn't even begin to understand they could do on the ship, learn what these mushrooms were and how they got on this poor whatever this person was. That was all beyond him though. He came from a simpler time, so he decided to do something simple and leave the fancy stuff to smarter men. "This place have a basement?" he said, walking over the the window and staring out over the nostalgic waves of corn. "If not, I reckon we'll find the rest of 'em out there."

Despite his calm demeanor the cowboy's hand was resting on the butt of his gun. Maybe it was just the eerie atmosphere of the house, but the cowboy had seen too much strangeness in his life to believe that nothing was there just because you couldn't find it. This could just be a sudden sickness that wiped them out, that was true, but if the rest of the family weren't here with this one it meant they'd fled before dying. You didn't leave family behind without good reason.

---

Out in the reaches of space, a place once thought empty, and endless, a small transport ship waited. It was unmarked, and designed to be forgettable. It's design being generic and bland. Inside however was different. State of the art communications technology stood at the ready, waiting to make first contact with the "Yakuza" that were down on the planet. Further in, in the back of the transport ship were cages. Cages holding several SEED forms, lined up and ready to be dropped. Even more dangerous, we're the protected vials containing strains of the SEED virus. Though, these were only a contingency. A deterrent, should these Yakuza choose to shoot down the ship.

In the center of the communications room, Helga gave the word. A transmission would be sent out, and most likely picked up by the Yakuza. Though Helga herself wouldn't be the one addressing them. Rather, a generic Illuminus grunt would be their representative.

"Hello? Hello. If you are receiving this, we are from the Illuminus. Perhaps you have heard of us. We wish to speak with your leader. The "fearsome" Banha Akiyama. We warn you, if you choose to shoot us down, then you will cause the SEED virus to spread uncontrollably through your world. So choose your actions carefully"

@sgtEasy

Sunlight streamed through the windows of Saint-Germain Castle into the pool, where Kouichi reclined. He sat on a blue beach chair made of a cloth as strong as canvas but nearly as soft as silk. He had placed this chair as near the center of a sunbeam as he could, though with the passage of time he was now sitting to one side of the sunbeam. He wore only a pair of trunks, leaving his largely unimpressive physique on display for all to behold.

Ah, if only the maids would wear bathing suits as well, he mused to himself. It would be so great to watch them play in the pool. Maybe I should go get a ball and see if they'd play volleyball with me. A smile crept across his face. Ah, all the bouncing and the splashing and the bouncing and the laughing... That would be heaven. Kouichi blushed slightly as he imagined all the "bouncing" a game would bring.

However, as wonderful an idea as it was to Kouichi, he didn't ask the maids to play with him. In his mind, he convinced himself that he was being considerate of the maids - after all, not everyone would want to go swimming in 15-degree weather. Plus, he told himself, if he suggested it and someone caught a cold, he'd be blamed for having the idea. He didn't want to ruin his chances with the maids, after all.

In reality, though, Kouichi was just too hesitant to ask. He didn't know if the answer would be no, and he spent more time convincing himself it would be better not to ask than he would've spent asking. All in all, it was just another day in the life of a 14-year-old self-proclaimed hero of justice.

The life of the Saint-Germain Castle maid was one that was both full of oddities and standard procedures. Such tasks included day-long shopping ventures, maintaining the cleanliness of the facilities, keeping an eye on the fortress defensive positions, usually taking care of the needs of the Gran Knights, tending to Gravion, and of course trying not to die at the hands of a Zeravire in the chance they invaded the premise. Many of these practices were still the same even with the movement shift of the Saint Germain Castle.

But one of the key differences, were the new things they now hosted. This led to a slew of new duties, but they were certain Sandman would keep the same policies intact. After all, they worked hard and could always use a chance for relaxing. But for now, every maid in the Saint-Germain Castle were focused on their tasks at hand.

As for Sandman, he was currently among a crowd of individuals who were slumming about in the dining chambers. He looked upon these crop of individuals, not quite sure how strong their G-factors were. However, that did not matter at the moment. The thing that mattered was that Sandman, was going to give a speech.

"I know what many of you are thinking!" Sandman boisterously declared, as he raised his emerald scepter and pointed towards the sea of people. Some were swerving their heads intent on giving this man their attention, others were being polite to feign it, while others continued to simply eat. Light reflected off of the emerald, providing it a nice gleam.

"You fear the unknown, not quite certain on how things will go." Sandman waved his scepter yet again and clutched his free hand into a fist. "That somehow, the darkness will win and consume the light!" Sandman thrust the scepter to pointing towards them once again.

"NO MATTER WHAT DARKNESS APPEARS UPON US, WE'LL CUT IT OFF! THE LIGHT OF GENESIS WILL PIERCE THROUGH THE VEILS OF EVIL! AND WE WILL TAKE AWAY THE FEAR THAT CLOAKS OVER THE HEADS OF MAN!" Sandman boomed out, his speech oozing with hype. Some of the crowd applauded the man, while others stared at him in utter confusion, while others still didn't pay attention.

With that short speech Sandman brushed off his collar and spoke once again, "Do not fear the night, for the dawn is always approaching. Now then, continue your enjoyment of the amenities as you wish."

And with that, Sandman pondered briefly on what manner of business to deal with next. Quickly he made a decision on that and headed off towards the pool.

Pofski huffed at the creature on the floor. Pofski, galactic ruler and now space warrior, slayer of all things evil, and his first job is cleanup. The pompous brass would rather waste his marvelous talents on this garbage than let him fight these spirally bastards head on!? What fools!

He growled something in what the vaguely scrutable latin root words would indicate to be English, but it was impossible to tell for sure. Rather than the Russian accent befitting his stereotypical appearance, his accent sounded more like some variety of Greek, vowels stretched out or blunted in vaguely Polish/Scottish tones, consonants bent and swapped a-la French/German, with the cadence and emphasis switching back and forth between Italian and Japanese. Whatever years of speaking his native language had trained his mouth and tongue to do, his voice sounded more like an exotic vintage of liquid stroke was quietly dribbling out of his mouth, since he wasn't taking the time to annunciate or collect his words in the grammatical order that English would.

But whatever he said wasn't important, it was unimportant, scornful muttering and nothing more, as he walked to what he presumed was the kitchen. He might as well get some free booze for his trouble.

Pofski huffed at the creature on the floor. Pofski, galactic ruler and now space warrior, slayer of all things evil, and his first job is cleanup. The pompous brass would rather waste his marvelous talents on this garbage than let him fight these spirally bastards head on!? What fools!

He growled something in what the vaguely scrutable latin root words would indicate to be English, but it was impossible to tell for sure. Rather than the Russian accent befitting his stereotypical appearance, his accent sounded more like some variety of Greek, vowels stretched out or blunted in vaguely Polish/Scottish tones, consonants bent and swapped a-la French/German, with the cadence and emphasis switching back and forth between Italian and Japanese. Whatever years of speaking his native language had trained his mouth and tongue to do, his voice sounded more like an exotic vintage of liquid stroke was quietly dribbling out of his mouth, since he wasn't taking the time to annunciate or collect his words in the grammatical order that English would.

But whatever he said wasn't important, it was unimportant, scornful muttering and nothing more, as he walked to what he presumed was the kitchen. He might as well get some free booze for his trouble.

The Kid watched his companion mutter something he didn't understand and make his way into the kitchen in the reflection of the windows glass. Land sake, how was he the sociable one here? He didn't fault the man for it. Lord knows he's snooped through the private homes of an entire town, and he was ashamed to admit that he'd made off with every bit of booze and tobacco those homes had to offer.

Oh well, if he were set on splitting up that was fine too. Since his compadre seemed set on searching the inside of the house The Sundown Kid made his way outside, circling the house to search for the entrance to a cellar or any place the rest of the family would have holed up in case of trouble. He walked slow though, ear peeled listening for any sort of noise coming from the corn.

@Sombrero @Gentlemanvaultboy

As the LWC officers went through the abandoned home, as eerily silent and lifeless as it is; the sudden sound of a raven's cry coming from outside would come as a rather unwelcome surprise. Before anyone could jump into conclusions, it didn't sound like it was a cry for alarm or a mating call, rather one that a raven would usually make when it was trying to bully another, weaker bird away from something it wants or calling out for the rest of its flock due to finding something of value.

While the presence of this particular species of bird in a temperate farmland like this isn't unusual, the fact that it called out in the first place is probably because it must have found food; quite a bit if it decided that it would alert its fellows for the feast to come. Perhaps it found one or more of the missing bodies of the family of five? Or maybe it's the field's unattended harvest ripe for the taking?

ben

Pofski raised an eyebrow as he heard an annoying, pestersome croak outside, disturbing the quiet and solitude of this investigation. He didn't particularly care to go birdwatching... But then it hit him that perhaps there would be another body in the fields, one that would perhaps provide a better idea of what the hell was going on out here, so that he could get another job that wasn't so far below his standards. The evidence inside could wait, but the evidence outside would be eaten by birds if he wasted too much time looking for booze that might not actually be there. He trotted outside, looking for any source of crowing, glancing at the man in yellow to make sure he heard it too.

@sombrero@dirty slime@Gentlemanvaultboy

---

Silver had been wandering around whatever planet she was on now for quite some time. Mostly getting around by catching rides with new friends, her last friends had left her behind. And, well, that was no good. But she couldn't do anything about it because they didn't come back. Well, whenever they did she would just need to make sure they knew not to leave her next time.

This time, she managed to end up in some rural area by a farm. They had left her here, maybe as a field trip? It didn't matter. It was doubtful there were any friends for her here. Just crows and corn, and a farmhouse a bit off in the distance.

Of course, seeing the farmhouse. That's when she saw it. A very large space ship, with a familiar marking. Something she had in more populated areas. Though, she hadn't ever been on one. Silver quickly ran over, and began climbing on top of it.

It wouldn't take her very long to reach a fairly high point. And from there, she could see almost everything! Including a fair number of crows at one particular spot in the field. That was odd. But far more interesting was the person that just walked around the corner of the farm house! Silver would call out to the man. (Referring to sundown kid)
"Hello! What are you doing here?"

@Absolis@Sombrero@dirty slime

The Kid turned out to look over the field when he heard the cry. He didn't have any trouble recognizing the cry of a carrion bird calling to its friends. He thought about those mushrooms on the alien inside. He couldn't think of any good that would come from a flock of birds eating somebody covered in that. He saw Pofski come n out of the house and glance his way, and figured the man must have the same idea. The Kid nodded at him and started to make his way toward the source of the noise.

Then he heard an unfamiliar voice and swung round.

There wasn't supposed to be another living soul around here and yet there it was, some little cat like thing climbing all over the ship. He didn't draw on it, partly because he wasn't that on edge but mostly out of confidence, but the man visibly tensed up. He considered how he should reply to this white spectre out of nowhere and decided that the truth couldn't hurt.

"Looking into a death. What are you doing here?"

The most diplomatic thing one could say of the pool water Barney was currently resting in was that it was brisk. Leaving the windows open to the pool was a terrible idea! Some parts of the water had built up a thin film of slush, and it was once such cluster of icewater that gently nipped at Barney's midriff. Scowling bitterly, Barney turned to his comrade beside him.

"This pool is fucking awful!" Barney said. "Why'd you even bring me here?"
Barney's comrade, a native Michiganian, chuckled at Barney's misfortune. "You'll get used to it, man! A nice dip in some cool water gets your blood pumping and your brain working!"
"Screw that!" Barney complained. "I'm not freezing my nuts off for a rush! You told me it'd be fun!"
"It's fun for me, man! Seeing you flip out over water is goddamn hilarious, man!"

Barney climbed over the pool's edge, not relishing the frigid chill of open air. Streaming frigid water, he snatched a towel from a nearby maid and wiped himself down. A pair of waterlogged boxers clung tightly to Barney's hips, shivering wildly at the slight breeze cresting the castle's ramparts.

The faint sounds of something from the dining room quietly sounded out from the interior wall of the pool, but Barney neither understood it nor cared to understand it.

Barney furrowed his eyebrows as he looked around the pool. Where was Tzatziki? Where was Reb? Where was Chips Dubbo? It seems that the rest of Barney's fireteam had, left to their own devices, wandered off to parts unknown. Barney's gaze passed over the attending maids and that bastard Michiganian, and fell upon the effette, blue-haired boy slouching sheepishly against a beach chair.

"Hey, you!" Barney called, stepping up to Hayase Kouichi. "There's supposed to be a group of three guys around here, but they've gone and skipped out on me. D'you know where they went?"

@Sodium

-null-

---

Jayna Patel ran through the corridors of the sprawling, crimson complex, clutching a small data pad containing a message from the Defender. She squeezed through a couple who were about to kiss, mumbling a short sorry before continuing to sprint like there was no tomorrow. To most, running fast through this maze of a city would spell disaster. Meaning that they would get lost almost immediately. But for a runner who's been living in the streets of New Hiroshima for the better part of their life, they could navigate through the city with ease. Now, they had comm. towers set up all over the city, an advanced extranet network and had the ability to send light-speed, instant messages from one side of the solar system to the other. So why did they need runners? Spies.

Anhur was festering with spies from the Dominion. All of them terran without any sort of mutation to set them apart from regular humans. It was almost infuriating at how their enemy was able to be two steps ahead of them due to their advance technology. And so, the Runner Corps was born. Made up of street urchins, the homeless and somewhat trustworthy criminals, the Runners are used to send high priority messages to and from every Yakuza chapter in Anhur. They must be fast, agile and must know the streets of the city they live in.

Jayna approached the large tower, shaped like a dragon reaching for the sky. She ran up the holo-stairs (elevators, as you know, are really slow) and reached the very top floor in record time. She sprinted for the large, oak doors and pushed through. Smoke whirled in the air, giggling Asari and Human girls in the corner and in lewd positions and there sat Banha Akiyama, behind his desk, doing paperwork. "Sir!" She called out, ignoring the sights around her. She knew that Hidan was the cause of all this, not the Grand Leader.

She walked up to the desk and slammed the data pad on the oak surface, scuffing it slightly. Banha looked up to Jaina and then downwards to the data pad. As he read it, his head crests furrowed in confusion. "Is this some sort of prank Hidan or Varhak made?" The runner shook her head politely. "No sir, it's directly form the Defender, sir."

Banha nodded before shooing her and the "escorts" away from the room. He tapped the button on his data pad, vacuuming all of the smoke form his room and bringing mic. He tapped to connect with the signal, his face popping up on the screen. He didn't bother to dress up, he never bothers to dress up. "This is the so-called "fearsome" Banha Akiyama speaking. You have some balls going here and threatening me but I respect that. Stupid but brave. I won't let you on the planet of course, just in case you aren't from the bloody Dominion. You wished to speak with me. Now speak." He leaned back on his chair.

To all those within and around the Saint-Germain Castle, Omega Supreme would be one of the largest landmarks around. Unfortunately for him, his massive size made it difficult for him to be within the field of preferable temperature that cloaked the facilities. So with snow and ice slowly attempting to build up on his exterior, Omega did what he did best: Endure.

No Anti-Spiral threats had made themselves evident so far, and despite his objective to destroy them, he could not afford to waste energy on a futile mission. He had tried to take them head on, only to find his strike team annihilated. He was forced to ally with this Lost Worlds Alliance, to receive the much needed support he lacked. He was a warship, he required a large amount of Energon to keep him moving, especially in combat situations. It was the sheer amount of energy required that allowed him to endure colds that many others of his kind could not. By simply directing the heat generated from simply standing, he could keep his vital systems free from the cold temperatures of the frozen defense outpost he found himself currently guarding.

Once more, he found himself missing Cybertron. It felt wrong not being on his home world, and seeing to its defense as he was programmed. It didn't help that the defense outpost had a copious amount of ice surrounding it. Any form of water was strange to the Cybertronian, as the organic compound was extremely rare in their area of the galaxy. But he had to admit, it's crystalline nature was beautiful in it's own right. It reminded him of the famous Crystal city, of which had had grown a strong liking.

1st Lieutenant Raymond Crawford, alias Justice Ray, was worried. This was normal- the natural state of a Space Corps pilot was anxiety, given the average survival rate of a Space Corps operation. He glared at his fellow pilots through his featureless visor as he passed them in the hallway. Where was the discipline? How much training did these guys have? Checking his map, he took a left, then a right. According to the red-haired guy in the mask, Ray would be able to meet his CO here. He pulled upen the door.

"Lt. Crawford, reporting. I'm looking for Commander Sandman?"

Ray strolled into the pool brandishing a small electronic tablet, scanning the room for his purple-haired superior officer. Christ, what a clown. Who did this guy think he was, anyway, giving those cheesy speeches and waving that goofy cane of his around? Was there a single person stationed on this base who could take things seriously?

Ray walked up to Sandman, saluting before holding out the tablet for his CO to take.

"It's about the seismic activity two weeks ago. Apparently, between that and the terraforming project, it's opened up some kind of sinkhole or grotto in the southwestern hemisphere. It's all there on the tablet, if you'd like to take a look. Now, according to your assistant, er...", Ray stopped for a moment. What was that guy's name, again? Crow? Corvid? He'd have to ask one of the maids later.

Ray shook his head and continued, "Well, according to your assistant- and to tell you the truth, I've been feeling this too...", Ray looked up at Sandman, "Something's woken up down there, sir. Some kind of suspended animation, it looks like. And whatever it is, it's something big enough and mean enough to survive being buried under a million tons of ice and rock for hundreds of years and survive. I was ordered to ask your thoughts on the subject."

@Gentlemanvaultboy@Dirty Slime@Sombrero@Absolis



As Nikolai Pofski was investigating for the source of the sound, he would be lead towards a particular patch of the vast cornfield. A large crowd of crows had gathered around this area, providing a fitting ambience as he looked around for what he already knew to be a corpse. It briefly came to mind that a group of crows wasn't referred to as a flock. Rather, the proper name was a Murder of crows. And it seemed that irony had brought them to this place. The golden grass turned to red, as Nikolai was forced to push through the sticky mess that had been left on the corn. Amidst the murder of crows lay a pair of bodies, covered in small bits of blood and gore.

The giant man's presence scared off most of the crows, granting him a better look at the scene before him. It was a rather horrific sight indeed. The first corpse was that of a small alien individual. Unlike the individual within the house it was free of fungus, allowing Pofski to observe it's features. It's skin was naturally a deep bronze, and it's two eyes were surprisingly insectoid. It's small size, in addition to the tiny dress it wore, indicated it was a child. Probably female. While she was free from fungus, a large cut had been made across her face, slicing one of the bulbous black eyes in half and releasing the thick black fluid within. Furthermore, she appeared to have been impaled through the chest with a sword of some description, a long light blue katana inscribed with markings.

The second corpse was more along the lines of what would have been expected. Another alien, similar to the first two. The largest of the three, although not much larger than the one inside. Even under the rows of fungus that covered the body, Pofski was able to see a heavy build. More notable, however, were the two holes in him. Each was about the size of a football. One was placed in the alien's abdominal area, the other seemed to have removed the left part of it's head. There are no burn marks around or in the wound, indicating that these holes weren't caused by lasers or ballistics. Furthermore, based on the sheer amount of gore spread around, it looked like whatever used to be in said holes had exploded outwards, now decorating the environment.

Sandman was currently exiting the frigid waters of the pool, while his clothing and cane were left aside near a beach-chair, near a set of two towels. Sandman himself wrapped his legs with the towel, as he was preparing to dry himself off with the other towel. It was during this moment Lt. Crawford arrived, did a formal salute and handed him an electronic tablet. It appeared that the terraforming project was having indeed, having an adverse affect on the planet as was theorized.

The seismic activity was somewhat strange, as was reported to him by his red-haired black mask wearing assistant Raven. It was more active than, the earlier reports when Sandman was moving the Saint Germaine Castle to this frozen wasteland. Sandman listened carefully to Crawford. With his free-hand Sandman began stroking his chin in thought.

Action was needed here. Leaving that sinkhole alone, would not be a good course of action. He knew that he needed to investigate it, and quickly.

"Justice never sleeps, nor does Villainy! The Heavens shine upon our venture!" Sandman boisterously declared, as he threw his arm that held the tablet towards the sky. His fingers were slipping in their grip, as he felt the tablet began to fall out of his hands and towards the pool.

He couldn't let that tablet fall in! Quickly Sandman lunged towards the device, and managed to catch it. However in the process, he belly-flopped into the pool. The smack was followed by the dispersed splashing of water, gurgling on Sandman's part as a few bubbles went upwards, and of course the stinging pain from the action. But at least the tablet was held above the water.

Emerging upwards through the water, and with a few gasps, Sandman returned his attention back to Crawford. "Ahem. I can't take any chances with this, especially if this activity isn't just planetary reactions. If something, beyond the terraforming project is behind this, I need to know what exactly is behind it. As you are already familiar with this operation, I am entrusting you to scout out the grotto and report back any other unusual sights from it. However, you are not going to go alone. You will take the pilot known as Ryoma Nagare with you, if anything goes wrong during this, he will be quite capable of holding your back."

With a beaming smile, Sandman spoke enthusiastically once more. "We have to look through the rain to see the rainbow, and that rainbow is the gleaming light of JUSTICE! AND NOTHING BURNS AS BRIGHT AS THAT!"

Nikolai, a frugal individual never to turn down the opportunity for a good looting on the battlefield, gently pawed at the sword handle with the back of his fingers. He wouldn't pick it up outright yet, because melee weapons in his homeworld had all kinds of security measures. Magic spells, fingerprint-activated tasers, alien mind-control symbiotes... Kidney squids... Pofski momentarily shuddered at the memory. If this thing was dangerous, he'd like to know for sure before committing an actual grip to it...