@thewizardguy

While asura slowly curled up into a fetal position, the woman looked at the silent king and said "enlighten me on how this is supposed to help the multiverse."

@Tyki @thewizardguy @Wraithblade6 @Masterkeun @kishin asura

"It helps the Multiverse, in his eyes, as he gets to put it under his thumb." Oswald speaks up, as the Silent king leaves. He lets out a semi-audible growl, knowing full well the Silent Tincan meant what he said. "..So, that makes time important. We, on the other hand, offer to fortify your planets against his invasion, and to keep your people, somewhat free." Oswald begins. "By somewhat, we generally mean we'd kick the shit out of your governments to get your people to work together, so we can save you. Savvy?" He asks, leaning back in his chair.
However, he spots the God of Madness curl up like a young child, one who wanted their mommy, or daddy. He let out a deep groan, and walked over to him, leaping over the table. Gently, he picks up Asura, setting him on his feet, before giving him a gentle slap. Gentle, however, is subjective. To the others, it'd seem like a viscous smack, one that sent a ripple across the man's face. "Listen. Buddy. We brought you here, so you can save your planet. This is not the time for you to wet yourself, and act like a god damn toddler. So, suck it up buttercup, cause we have work to do." He says, trying to motivate Kishin into not curling up like a small child.
"As for why you should side with me, despite what you may think, I am no demon. I'm something stronger. You see, I'm a Demon Lord. A mortal who's gathered the power to control and subdue demons. My world was ravaged when I was young by the infernal monsters, and as such, I've spent my life learning to defeat them, to control them, to break them. This, is how I fight my wars, though sending hordes of the infernal to drag those who commit evil into the abyss of fire. I am a judge, a jury, and an executioner. If you side with me, we will see those who'd harm you dragged into the fire, kicking and screaming. Evil, will be made to knee to good, and be made to preform the will, of good...." He says, making his speech dramatic, his voice booming with flair.
"So...you may side with me, and allow the evil of your worlds to be brought to heel, or you can side with Tall, Silent and Silver, and have everyone you love put under his shiny metal thumb...Or side with her..." He starts, thumbing to the woman in black, "And have your world over-ran with robots as they try to throw medicine and your lives at them..."

Asha smiled gently gesturing to the demonic looking man. "I would be willing to accept that partnership on the terms you don't remove our world's evil. The battles of our people are a natural cycle and necessary for balance." Asha stood gently moving over to stand near Oswald having chosen her side. "It will also waste time to fight our governments. The endless would be better spent acting as rulers with minimal oversight" Asha was confident Oswald would accept these terms. It was better they not waste time infighting during a war. If the silent king did indeed plan an invasion it would be easy to unite her world against such a being. "If you agree I shall take this news home and begin preparations."

@supertinyking@kishin asura@Wraithblade6@thewizardguy@Tyki

@supertinyking@Masterkeun@thewizardguy@Wraithblade6@Tyki

"Listen, I didn't sign up for this." Asura begins "I was fine being dead. Now I'm not only somehow alive, I'm alive while there's fucking skeleton robots about to fuck everything up."

"Shut it." The woman in black hisses before looking at Oswald "My corporation has recently begun dipping its toes into far deeper waters than just medicene. After all, in this day and age you gotta be prepared for anything" She gives a thin smile and adds "even killer robots."

The tension in the room abated to a tolerable degree as the harmless breach of conduct was dismissed. Mithias stood silent, frowning slightly as he mused. The situation was thus: that the Silent King was unavoidably going to attack their several worlds, in their several respective universes, Oswald offered his support in resisting this takeover, and the cyclopean women was somewhere in the middle with an army of robots in service to her corporation. The remade and redeemed representative of humanity didn't like being brought into the middle of this. It didn't feel like the choice belonged to him in the first place. He inwardly sympathized with the mad god who curled up into a ball on the floor nearby. The choice was whether or not to enlist the aid of this alien 'demon of good' and fight, or to encourage his world, who would be entirely unprepared to defend itself in merely 36 hours, to surrender. The burden of decision was annoying.

Mithias telkinetically reached for an infosphere again, a power his Necron host probably also detected, yet the black floating orb came to him. The rest spoke amongst themselves behind him as he scrolled through charts and plans. His sharp yellow eyes scrutinized in detail, his mind hiding his conclusions in a black void as he panned around, running searches. He shifted his weight to one leg and crossed his arms across his chest, bringing a hand to his lips deep in thought.

To side with Oswald, presuming he could win, was to defend his people from an outside invader, to give them the chance to keep their freedom. Humans, and vampires, would continue to evolve and shape their own destiny as a species, but it was also to let them continue to struggle against each other, to fall prey to their own weaknesses and to suffer needlessly against powers they could not control for potentially eternity. "...would I actually choose chaos?" Mithais mused to himself with a furrowed brow as he stared at the screens. He ran a hand through his hair, as he always did when he was unsettled. The Necron DID have the technology to shut out the immaterium, and had a very strong chance of completely cutting it out of real existence. The human Emperor of that dimension would have done the very same. As for his personal, original world, Necron rule would end the war between the species, humans and vampires, allowing both to survive under new management. But the price would be a loss of autonomy, a loss of identity. Life itself is defined by struggle and pain. Would these conquered species merely be living as pets?? Mithias wanted to pace, but he held himself in place. ...or would they become one with the new Empire, loyal subjects, ordered, proud? Mithais asked himself, was he ready to choose evil?

After some time, Mithais turns back to the Necron King and addresses him. "I couldn't find what I was looking for. I wanted to see your mission statement. Tell me, Silent King. Why do you do this? Why 'gift' this order and technology to other species? Do you love them? Do you simply hate the spread of chaos so much? Or do you merely seek domination to its fullest to satisfy some outdated and futile code written into your metallic mind? Why is it that your particular empire must come to be?" This was truly the crux of the matter. Mithais had stated previously that the Necron lord was not worthy, could not be worthy, for the task he intended. Everything now depended on what he would say in response.

Ignoring the various comments from his companions on the Council, the Silent King chose instead to focus on the young vampire's question. It was an interesting one, and the Silent King took a moment to contemplate his answer. After a small silence in which the chattering of the mortals continued, he addressed Mithias. "My homeworld was besieged by the radiation of our own star. My people were fated to die after a mere dozen or so years. Our lives were merely the petty preludes to our deaths, and we believed this to be existence. Death was greater to us than life itself, for our lives seemed insignificant even to us. Yet when we rose to the stars we encountered the Old Ones, ancient beings who had been granted immortality through their innate power." Cold and unblinking, the Silent King stared down Mithias. But for the first time since he had spoken, some tint of emotion could be heard on the edge of his electronic rumble of a voice. "It was then that we learned, simply, that the universe is unfair. This rule seems woven into the fabric of reality itself, as immutable as our mortality. The strong will thrive and prosper, the weak will be forced to suffer for the sin of their existence. Such is the cruel way of nature, such is this survival of the fittest that you yourself would follow."

"My people sold their souls to escape death. But whatever the cost, we conquered what most consider inevitable. We transcended death, the force that haunts all of the universe's living being. A force that even the Old Ones could not truly escape, in the end. With that simple gesture we defied the callous hand of fate, and took what had been denied us. And when the Gods wished to make us their servants we once more defied our fate, and fought for our freedom. We set the heavens themselves ablaze and destroyed the demons we had created, we ended these beings who were thought unkillable, the sentient aspects of the universe itself." The Silent King stood, and this time his stance had something more than inhuman grace. Beyond the eerie stillness and skeletal appearance was something distinctly more recognisable. A certain regal attribute, a strength of motion that would call others to follow. "The unfairness of the universe is a rule none can defy. So I will defy it. If fate will not grant equality then I shall make up for it's failings, and I will create a system far beyond mere mortal machinations. I will recreate this universe, this multiverse, and annihilate the petty laws of nature that stand in my way." With these last words his eyes seemed to practically blaze green light, and the room grew momentarily darker. "And no man, no God, and no reality will be able to stand in my way."

"This is my 'mission statement.' My goal. This is the universe that I will create. A fair one. The universe my people were denied."

@thewizardguy@supertinyking@kishin asura

Mithias stood silent for a long while, even until after the Silent King finally sat back down. He didn't need to look at the orb or speak to anyone any longer. He watched the Necron Lord, saying nothing, his face the placid gaze of a venerated elder, wisened and detached, yet a storm brewed behind the human facade. Only his hesitation belied the struggle within, how he fought to hold tight the seal that kept his emotions hidden.

The words of the once-mortal demon of justice rose again in his mind, leveling at him like a loaded gun, testing his resolve. "...or you can side with Tall, Silent and Silver, and have everyone you love put under his shiny metal thumb..." Then, reluctantly, Mithias realized what he had to do.

Giving no indication as to which way he had sided, Mithias took his gaze off the Silent King and addressed the council. "I must go to my homeworld immediately. Please provide me the transport." He took the black infosphere in his grasp, intending to leave with it. It would be necessary as evidence of his claims, whichever way his world went. 36 hours was very little time.

The swirl of powerful teleportation forces swirled around him briefly before a dark and serene world opened up before him. Mithias stepped out into the path of an oncoming car, headlights blaring white LED into his adjusting eyes. He knew what it was instantly and leapt straight up.

The driver slammed on the breaks and sat stunned at what he had just witnessed.

BAM! Mithias landed directly on top of the vehicle, a yellow-colored cab that was now in the middle of a busy intersection during evening rush hour in the middle of the biggest city in the United States, New York. The driver jolted, certain he was just hit. Horns blared and curses were shouted in multiple languages as a large figure in black jumped down from atop the cab and startled a group of random humans on the sidewalk.

It was just past dark, yet you wouldn't know it by the ever-present lighting of the streets. Mithias quickly ascertained where he was. It was easy enough. The giant billboards and stench were a classic giveaway. He was home, Earth, but this wasn't the part of it that he wanted. Ignoring the onlookers around him, who had already begun to pull out their cellphones to video him, he manifested a blade in his right hand out of thin air. Purple light flickered as the weapon came into being, then vanished, leaving only the glimmer of something like steel behind. The people cooed and commented, but Mithias could feel their fear as they began to back away. "Vampire." They muttered. He could read it over and over appearing in their minds all around him. This was the world of Blood Compact.

And then in an instant, the 'vampire' disappeared, or rather, that is what the humans all saw. In truth, Mithias had deceived them all, psychically muting his presence in their minds until he was simply invisible. They couldn't notice him. They had no idea what had just happened, but they weren't hurt, they had places to be, nothing to see here. They moved along.

It was just too easy, thought Mithias as he stood atop a parked truck, watching all the humans. He thought about how it must have been to have such a power for thousands of years, about the consequences of it... yet his own power was now far greater than this. Now, he could do things none of his former kin could have ever dreamed. However long it had been, he had undoubtedly surpassed his maker. He lingered only a moment as a vision of Necron killing all these people flashed through his consciousness. The sidewalks would be awash with blood, dirty blood that now only sickened him at the thought of it. He no longer thirsted for it. He was whole once again, human, perfected. Mithias allowed himself to feel a surge of emotion as he fathomed what was about to happen to this unsuspecting world. The vision was going to come true, only a mere day or so from now. There would be no hope of informing the various factions of his own world of the impending doom, for they would not unite. They would never reach a consensus in time, but there was one being in this world that he had to inform, one being he owed his entire existence to, the one who had given him the choice that began it all. He... would still be alive. Whatever would come to pass, Mithias could not abandon him. It would shatter his sense of justice not to perform this last act of honor, no matter how irrational.

Using his blade, the enlightened and transcended version of Mithias Varomere rended space and slipped across into a burning light. Black sand touched his boots on the beach at Punaluu. Palms waved gently in the breeze and tourists gawked at the excessively clothed stranger that they swear hadn't been there only moments ago. Mithias ignored them. Although pressed for time, he was momentarily overtaken with the beauty and serenity of this place. The air was sweet and fresh, the waves natural and soothing, the very soul of the planet was innocent here, and for a moment, he wished it could always be so. Would that he could spend eternity here. Perhaps he was more like his father than he admitted.

Almost furiously, a psychic beacon powerful enough to wake the dead burst roughly from his consciousness in a 360 degree wave. He demanded to be seen, now.

The trees seemed to grow silent as the wind died down, the very waves seemed to recede from the beach. Faces from across the beach stared at this newcomer, this stranger who so audaciously announced his presence. Humans stood all around, a mass of blank stares from seemingly dead eyes. All of them were connected, merely eyes and ears for the true owner of this island. And as Mithias stood there, the silence seemed to fill the beach. An oppressive silence, which actively sought to drown out any noise. Mithias could hear their very hearts beating in time, like a well-tuned clock. This simple display of power would have brought chills to most vampires. But of all vampires across the world, Mithias had the least to fear from this particular Elder.

Sacred silence was shattered by the sound of polished shoes on marble floors. Slowly the elegantly graceful figure of the Vampire Lord strode forth from the mansion which dominated the hillside. Beautiful men and women walked with him dressed in hawaiian fashion, holding plates of delicate snack foods or cooling him with large leafy fans. Both were completely superfluous considering their master's nature, but he had always so enjoyed to appear rich and wealthy. And over the centuries his palette had become too refined to merely subsists on blood alone like some 'common' vampire. Although blood did frequently make it's way into his little culinary experiments, in one way or another. After all, even Elder Vampires must eat properly on occasion.

Having leisurely made his way over to Mithias' location he made a short mocking bow, even as his minions scampered off to put down a comfy chair. He wore a suit as usual, an elegant italian design in dark blue, with a stylish top hat from the same designer. The only concession his outfit made to the tropical weather was a pair of sunglasses, through which a dim red glow could still be perceived. "It appears I have been summoned. Why, whatever could it be that you wish of me?" His tone was deep and fluid, filled with subtle nuance and humour that none could truly follow. It seemed that everything was an in-joke to Gabriel, and this was no exception. The bright smile on his face would seem jolly to the foolish, but those more experienced with his habits would realise that such expressions betrayed little of his mind. Even Mithias, who knew his sire perhaps better than any other vampire in history, could not read that smile. But it was clear, from the general tone, that Mithias had overstepped a boundary with these summons. After all, the great Gabriel could hardly cater to the every whim of some youngblood with less than a thousand years under their belt.

Sitting down upon the fluffy pink recliner his minions had managed to retrieve (barely in time) he motioned for a cup of wine and fixed Mithias with a piercing gaze. "Tell me what's on your mind. It's not like you to be quite so audacious as to call for me in my own home. Why, you barely enter a house without knocking." A brief sip was followed by an even brighter grin, one of genuine amusement this time. "Why, you must be truly rattled. You're looking all pale!" Chuckling at his own terrible sense of humour he finished the glass in one gulp, gesturing for another bottle to be brought immediately.

"Tch, I've heard enough of this rambling."

It appeared that this meeting had long outlived it's usefulness. With a gesture he caused the little datacron to explode. A brief reading had already shown that any strategically pertinent information had been omitted from the document. Of course the Silent King would not want to mix his propaganda with something actually valuable. "Too many people try and take away the freedoms of others for some 'greater cause'. I'll let you know when I find someone that manages to actually pull off all the promises they make while they're crushing their enemies beneath their feet. Until then, I've got errands to run." Refusing to take this odd Council technology, the Traveller merely activated his own portal. His left hand glowed up, runic symbols tattood onto the flesh. As he seemed to draw another in the air a shimmering portal of blue energy appeared, leading to some mysterious other realm. A last glance was given to the remaining representatives. "For anyone truly thinking of joining the communist skeleton... consider whether the body count will be worth it. Think for a moment how many happy empires are built on a foundation of corpses." With that last little snide nugget of wisdom he turned around, and vanished into the ether realm. The portal closed behind him as the fabric of reality stitched back together.

Within his own ether realm the Traveller made ready for the war he had been dragged into. While he didn't appreciate being called to serve, he couldn't stand idly by while innocent worlds were torn down. This would not be the first time he had interfered, although he had never interfered on such a large scale. The infosphere had given him information on what universes and worlds were to be targetted, so he would be able to work towards protecting those worlds. Even if his own power might not be much compared to the armies of the Silent King he had a variety of tricks up his sleeve. And at the very least, he would ensure that every world he reached would be ready for the coming storm. This little wannabe multiversal dictator would find nothing but a wall of blades awaiting him.

Zapping from place to place, floating through nonsensical constructions and immense open areas, the Traveller made ready his weapons. Suits of armour from various universes, enchanted and enhanced by his runes. Blades that could slice through stone, guns that reloaded themselves, and arm-braces that would allow one to shatter stone with their raw strength. Dozens upon dozens of enchanted items which he had crafted in his spare time, now ready to be handed out to those who would stand against the Silent King. Statues of marble and iron had been engraved with complex rune patterns and connected to the Overmind, a network of runes that formed a semi-sentient AI. These figures would be brought to life by the power of his runes, fighting on the battlefield as indestructible and merciless death machines. Few could match such immortal golem warriors. And last but not least was his own personal arsenal, heavily enchanted and enhanced gear designed for him to use in combat. He had practised often with many of these, and a few had actually been deployed in combat, although he was still far from an expert. But the raw power of their enchantments would already give him a severe edge over most warriors.

As the Traveller visited the worlds on his list he would activate defenses he had kept there. Runestones that opened great portals between the worlds, golems that had lain dormant for years. In some worlds he had made friends who would act to alert the world's forces, whereas in others he would need to confront the most important factions himself. But in the face of such an existential crisis, few would refuse to band together. With only 36 hours to prepare there was much to do, and barely enough time to do it in. Although the ability to teleport and a high speaking pace assisted him often in this endeavour. He would alert as many worlds as possible before the timer ran out, avoiding those worlds Oswald and his friends had already prepared.

And with a mighty cry, the Behemoth fell, making a thunderous thud as his now corpse fell to the ground. Lorek made a not so thunderous thud as he fell on his backside, exhausted from the fight. Dropping his staff, he pulled out a journal from his pack and scribbled something down quickly.

Behemoths: Healed by thunder. EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. Lorek had kept tab on the several creatures that roamed the land of Gran Pulse. He called his little journal How Not to Lose Your Pulse in Gran Pulse: A Bestiary. He wrote about these creatures for his own benefit, keeping track of various weaknesses and strength, and to preserve some information about them, in case Cocoon succeeded in their campaign to take over Gran Pulse. But as long as Lorek could still cast spells, he would do everything in his power to prevent that from happening.

Lorek put his bestiary back in his pack and picked up his staff, heading back over to the Cie'th Stone that gave him the quest to kill the behemoth king. The stone promised knowledge of a Black Magic spell, Gravity. He quickly accepted the quest when he found out the reward and didn't care as he did, as he would do next to anything to expand his knowledge on Black Magic.

Let's hope this spell is a powerful as that beast was...

Mithias waited, impatiently. His call had gone out, far louder than it needed to be if the one he sought was actually anywhere nearby. No one had heard it, or so it appeared to Mithias. The passage of time from moment to moment pulled on him like an anchor. It wasn't that he was irascible, but rather that these where the last moments this beautiful world had, and the death of every one of them was a crime. If there was any such thing as a god, he would have prayed, but he had learned the cold hard truth long ago; there wasn't. A soothing wave rolled in the background and the breeze made the palm fronds flap lazily above his head. Mithias looked up toward a menacing sun, Sol itself. Even he squinted against the light that would be eclipsed by the giant starships soon to be in orbit above. Without an answer, he would simply stand there, waiting, counting each moment until all of them had passed. The tension was agonizing, and he felt so limited, so powerless, so... mortal. He began to question what he would do if he couldn't find him.

But an answer came. The response was relatively immediate, and Mithias knew it could be none other. The wind died, and even the waves died. Mithias felt his senses sharpen in anticipation, as if for a fight, but something was amiss. Last he checked, his father could not affect the wind and the waves, nor alter his mental perception of them. This was new.

All eyes were already on him, all pulses one, by the time he noticed. That affect alone would have drawn many to insane levels of fear, but not this one. The 'vampire god' was living up to his title, and Mithias got the sense that he may have crossed the line. He suppressed a shudder at the theatrical eeriness, surprised that after all he had been through, all the lifetimes he had lived, and all the interdimensional worlds he had traveled, he still had to. A father's powerful influence was never dulled it seemed, and the long lost son braced himself.

Mithias knew better than to move an inch as Gabriel strolled out to him. There was no rushing a god of any sort, not even with news of his impending demise. He contained himself. For this to work, he was going to have to speak Gabriel's language, and on the vampire's terms. He should be grateful enough that the capricious lord had answered him so quickly, or at all. Patience was the language of immortals. Gabriel would appreciate a certain degree of decorum, at minimal, the respect.

The fake smile resurrected memories of memories that Mithias had forgotten he even had. It had been so long since he had set foot in his own dimension that he was almost a stranger to it. Seeing his father, the being who had first granted him undeath, was like seeing a ghost. The blade in Mithias' hand dematerialized in flecks of purple, as he had forgotten he was even holding it. If a massive psychic shockwave hadn't been a sign that something was different about him, then that was.

Mithais beheld Gabriel with Imperial objectivity. He was a powerful entity, but limited, and petty. He was no different than endless numbers of powerful beings dominating their portions of universes upon universes. All of them were meaningless. Yet, despite the fact that this petty vampire god was utterly no one, at the same time, he was completely the only one. There was no logic in it, but this meeting had to happen.

"You look beautiful in blue." The words came across without Mithias moving his mouth at all. It was a thought, but with it came yet more information in the form of psychic media. There was a sense that this was the last time Mithias ever expected to see him. There was a strong sense of urgency, of duty, and cold acceptance.

Mithias expected him to die? Really...

As if that transmission had never happened, Mithias gathered his resolve and began to speak. "I'm sorry father. I regret the rudeness of my intrusion, but time grows short." As if it were even possible, ages of multiversal travel had made Mithias even more blunt, and he dropped the hammer right out. "In 34 hours, this planet will make first contact with an invading xenos species intent upon assimilating it into their intergalactic empire. They come with overwhelming force and technology undreamed of by our kind. Unless the entire populace, both human and vampire, submits immediately as a whole, this world will burn."

Trying to gage Gabriel's reaction was laughably impossible, even for Mithias.

Mithias reached into his pocket. "I assumed you wouldn't believe me, so I brought one of their infospheres. It details their plans and designs which you will find are purely logical and efficient." He brought forth the black orb, which came to life floating in his palm. Mithias called up the charts, demonstrating how to do so. "This Earth, is not prepared to defend itself, although..." The young man seemed reluctant, "There is another faction willing to face this enemy and fight alongside us if we choose to resist. I have only but to call." He allowed his father a moment to indulge his curiosity. His expression was dubious however.

"But these beings too have their own agenda, father. Either way, the game is rigged." It was clear now that Mithias had already chosen his side. He had no intention of resisting the Necrons, but he expected it of his sire and was trying to sway him.

"Enemies among the stars were always going to find this planet eventually, and now, they have. Joining the Necron Empire is the only logical choice, if not for the guarantee of immediate survival, then for the order and peace the empire will establish. We will have strength with them, and we will be part of something greater than ourselves. ... If you still don't believe me, look into my mind. Know what I know for yourself. I can allow you to do this now, and I do not fear you. Join with me, or I fear you will die."

@kishin asura @Masterkeun

"We'll see. I'll send one of my generals to help fortify your world. He's not very scary looking, but trust me when I say he's a hell of a fighter, and harder to put down than one would imagine." Oswald says to the Draconic Woman he was talking to. Of course, he felt deep down he'd need to sort out this evil later, but right now he had little time to bicker with her. There were lives to save, and little time to do so. He then turns to the woman in black, and the Demon God.

"As for you, no, you didn't. However you were the strongest we could find, someone who could, hopefully, help us unite your world, before it was drowned in its own blood. The necron won't be kind on anyone, especially aspects of madness and death..." Oswald says, hinting at Lord Death, no doubt. "I've looked into your world. Witches, reapers, demons, and more. They'll gut each and every one of them, as both sides will not go peacefully into the night. Not the witches, or the DWMA. I know you've had it rough, I can read your story like an open book. I know you may not hold to much love for those of your world, but if the Necron get a hold of it, you'll never have a safe place again. You're dangerous, to them, Asura. Dangerous to the Necron, to humans. To everyone, but I see a sliver, maybe a small splinter of good in you. You've done a lot of bad, but this is your chance to turn over a new leaf. Are you going to huddle up, sucking your thumb like a child, or be the kind of hero that has nothing to fear?" Oswald asks, holding a hand out to the Demon God.

@jeroukoo

As Lorek picked himself up from the dust he had found himself in, a long whistle could be heard. "Wow. You killed that big fella? Impressive. You gotta have a lot of power to pull something like that off." He says. Walking into Lorek's view, a spindly pale man, shaved head, grey shirt and cargo pants. "So, my little friend. You seem pretty strong....I think you're the one my boss wanted me to find. My name's Grunt. Nice to meetcha." He says, holding a hand out, to help Lorek up from the dust. He had narrow shoulders, and was tall enough he looked exceptionally thin for the average human. However, should Lorek take Grunt's hand, he could feel there's far more power in his muscles than one would guess, Grunt almost launching Lorek to his feet.
"If ya got any business to clear up here, I'd like for ya to speed it up. My boss hasn't got much time left, till something bad happens...so...move with gusto." He says, pulling out a cigarette from his left pocket. He quickly lights it up, pulling a dented zippo lighter from his right pocket.

@supertinyking
"Wow. You killed that big fella? Impressive. You gotta have a lot of power to pull something like that off."

Lorek jumped a little as the man spoke. It was very unusual for moogles get caught off guard due to their large ears. One could chalk it up due to Lorek being tired from the fight. Nevertheless, Lorek was still a bit spooked. The man offered a hand that Lorek had no consent to, and he yanked Lorek up on his feet. The man's grip held power, much more than Lorek would expect from a regular human.

"So, my little friend. You seem pretty strong....I think you're the one my boss wanted me to find. My name's Grunt. Nice to meetcha."

Lorek didn't respond, but instead observed the man who called himself Grunt. The clothes he wore were not that of a soldier, but also foreign to the land of Gran Pulse. This man... He isn't from Cocoon is he? He most certainly isn't from Gran Pulse, but to send an unarmored soldier from Cocoon down her would be risky...

"If ya got any business to clear up here, I'd like for ya to speed it up. My boss hasn't got much time left, till something bad happens...so...move with gusto."

Now THAT sound liked something someone from Cocoon would say. But why would they want him? A black mage moogle with a vendetta for their entire nation? He preferred death to working with them. Still, the man didn't seem entirely like the Cocoon type. Most would taken advantage of his unawareness after the behemoth fight and killed him right there, especially after seeing he was a mage.

Lorek quickly propelled himself a few feet back and pulled out his rod, assuming a defensive posture. If this man were Cocoon, Lorek would attempt to run away rather than fight him. He was tired from the last fight and the man seemed to have more power to him than his appearance suggested.

"What do you mean by something bad, kupo?" Lorek spoke calmly. "And who exactly is your boss?"

Asha watched the proceedings with patience as a large portal opened behind her. A man with blue hair offered her a hand that she quickly took back to her own world. The large blue and gold world was the council chambers and to her surprise The Elder Council was already in session. The Key Lord and First Elder smiled at her unwaveringly "Fear not child I have begun preparations with Myria and she has agreed to put off our war until this new threat is handled." Asha could hear the spells already humming as the sky turned purple with energy. Myria to Asha's great surprise was sitting next to her sister in two newly added chairs.

It was foolish for Asha to assume a master of time would not already know of the threat. Asha not wanting to know didn't ask The Key lord if they'd win, but instead bowed heading to rally her fellow Whelp level brood and the army of Monsters Myria would provide. Asha beamed as she walked to the great forest happy that her friends would make there stand here. The council waited patiently for Oswald's emissary as Asha helped set up defenses. The forest monsters from werebears to harpies greeted her. The forest clan waiting with magic arrows ready for the coming invasion. Asha as the oldest quickly took charge of her forces having the Brood healers stay to heal and revive where they could leaving the heavy hitting to the newly reformed M.C. Tusk brigade. The three other elders moved to secure there own armies the forces being divided into whelp, dragon, behemoth, and Kaiser. The Key Lord and Myria waited in the council chambers the city of Gate flying in preparations for their counter attack.

Silently Gabriel observed as his impudent spawn monologued. At some point he was going to need to make a rule on that. No monologues until you're at least 1000 years old. That was a solid age to start. Regardless it seemed that Mithias believed this matter to be of the utmost importance, so Gabriel deigned to listen to his concerns. The boy certainly seemed different, as befitting his period of absence and the nature of his travels. But despite all the changes he had yet failed to gain a sense of humour, nor the indifferent attitude befitting of an immortal. Every little thing was 'the end of the world', and every apocalypse was to be taken seriously. Sometimes Gabriel wondered if Mithias smiled when he wasn't looking, because there was no way anyone could keep up that level of concern, that level of care, and not go completely bonkers. On the other hand, what was wrong with bonkers?

Sighing, the self-proclaimed god dragged his mind back to Mithias' little speech. "So you're telling me aliens from another dimension are going to invade in order to conquer the world?" For a solid ten seconds Gabriel just stared at his wayward son over the rim of his black-tinted glasses, thin eyebrows raised. It wasn't a silence that invited answers, and Gabriel used it to savour, momentarily, his wayward son's frustrations. Of course Gabriel believed him, Mithias didn't have a dishonest bone in his body. A damn shame, but that's just the way things were. Didn't need mind reading to tell that, at the very least, Mithias truly believed this. But there weren't enough awkward silences in the world, and Gabriel was on a mission to remedy that issue.

"Seems to me like you're bending over backwards for an alien. Tut tut. That's hardly the behaviour I expected of you. Well, that's not true, but it's not the behaviour I'd like to encourage." Gabriel snapped his fingers, and chaos erupted on the beach. Vampires burst from the sands and fed on the human tourists, who simply stood there obediently. But the vampires weren't simply feeding, they were turning each and every one of these random humans. Men, women, children, within moments there was not a single human on the beach. "See, I've been around for a long time. I've seen empires rise and fall. Dictatorships intent on conquering you 'for the greater good' very rarely deliver on their promises. And even if they did, where's the fun in that? No, that wouldn't be interesting at all." Small groups of vampires rushed out of the building, handing out weapons and armour to the assembled newbloods. The newbloods equipped themselves rapidly, a beautiful sight to behold. From the chaos and frivolity of mortal distraction emerged a formidable fighting force, a vampiric army armed to the teeth with the cutting edge of technology. "Regardless, I've been looking for something to get invested in for a while now. Gabriel, Dark Lord of Vampires, Saiour of the World. Has a nice ring to it, no? Oh, and you're grounded." Gabriel's luminescent grin dimmed momentarily into a caricature of a concerned glance. "I will not have and giving up in my household. So you're grounded for the next couple of days, until you learn to act like a proper vampire lord. Also smile. No phones, no playdates, no brooding."

With this final message Gabriel turned rapidly away, convinced he had done his proper parenting job. "There's orphan blood and a cold pizza in the freezer, and you're free to abuse the minibar. But if you break anything when I get back, no pocket money for a MONTH. You hear me?" Still grinning the immortal marched off towards his private airfield even as behind him his private army geared up. He had 36 hours to get everything ready, and he was planning one hell of a surprise party.

Mithias blinked, his heretofore serious gaze suddenly broken by a quizzical expression at the mention of grounding. Sure, he knew the term, but was caught completely off guard by such an unexpected response. He had no recourse but to stare silenced as Gabriel spoke, like any random offspring caught by his father's tone. It struck him that no matter how long he had been alive, how many deaths and rebirths he had endured, nor what powers he had acquired and made his own, he would always and ever be subservient in this engagement. It didn't even matter that he had dispensed with his vampirism; Gabriel's claws ran deep into his soul, spanning all meaning of time and space. This bond, was eternal.

Mithais hadn't quite expected his pride to be leveled so immediately, but he realized what his father was doing. Gabriel had unfortunately disagreed with the plan, but even as the ancient vampire prepared to deal with matters himself, he, in his own way, offered solace to his son. A few days 'grounding,' and this would all be over. It was a kindness that did not go overlooked despite the pompous dress of arrogance it wore, and it cut Mithias like a razor.

There was no arguing, not with a being like Gabriel, particularly not with Gabriel. At this point, there was going to be a battle, and this world was going to burn. Honor had compelled the council's chosen world-guardian to inform those he cared for of the impending Necron attack, and now that duty had been satisfied. He watched as Gabriel strutted toward the airfield, pink couch and entourage still in tow and the biggest toothy grin on his face. "You're braver than I expected." He mused to himself reflecting on old memories as he stood there. Had Gabriel read his mind as he had been asked to? Did he really think that he alone could have this under control and come out alive? No... There was no possible way. The old man was planning to go down with the ship, with a bang no doubt, but down nonetheless. Of course there was no way Gabriel the vampire would willingly suffer a higher order of any kind, not even an impossibly perfect system. Mithias subconsciously tightened a fist in frustration with his dilemma and turned to face the pitiless sea. He sighed and shook his head. "I am the spawn of anarchy incarnate."

----------

In the middle of the council room, Mithias suddenly appeared by teleportation. He glanced around at any others who were still present, or returned, and looked at the hooded council members. First, he located and addressed the Lord of Demons.

"Lord Oswald. I have met with the powers of my world, and our choice has been made." The immortal's face was darker than usual, and he hesitated to be sure he had full attention. "The world of vampires and humans declines your offer of aid against the Necron invasion. I am sorry."

There were some murmurs in the background in response as Mithias then approached the one known as the Silent King.

"Lord King of the Necrontyr." He found the council member with his green glowing eyes seated where he was hours before. Mithias lowered himself to one knee in what seemed to be a formal gesture of surrender before the ancient being. He had afterall just declined Oswald's offered aid, so what else would he be doing? Mithias spoke, "As the representative of my world, I must inform you..." He lifted his yellow eyes at him in a look of sincerity, "...that the beings of my homeworld fully intend to defend themselves from your attack. You will suffer great casualties if you insist on taking this world, and so I implore you to withdraw your forces. Leave my world out of your Empire. Do not attack, for it will lead to nothing but pointless death on both sides. My people, will not endure being indebted to or beholden to any other, no matter your intentions or the perfection of your empire. They will kill you. And so I beg you. Do not throw your lives away." It was the humblest gesture Mithias could make and his last resort to preserve his original family.