[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=duuec5Ybtps&ab_channel=VetoShizu[/youtube][/center]

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[@Estylwen][@ERode][@Sifr][@Psyker Landshark][@AThousandCurses]

[b][h3]AUDITORIUM[/h3][/b]

Davil's features sharpened, nodding at Otis' orders. It seemed the mention of rising up against a tyrant appealed to the boy, thoughts of heroism clear as day across his face. "You can count on me, guys. And if I don't come back, tell my wife I love her." Having already gotten into character, Davil gripped his chainsword tightly, turning towards the door with the intent to storm in as the chosen warrior to fell a power-hungry king.

"...Huh?"

That was, of course, until he looked to his right just in time to see another group zooming towards the same door - the familiar flying knight at the forefront, leading this charge. "Oh [b]fuck[/b]," Davil would exclaim, losing his cool in a blink as he dodge-rolled to the side, freezing up as he watched the others disembark and breach the door. "That wasn't part of the plan! Wait, that's not how this was supposed to go, oh gods above!"

Seeing no other option, Davil would shrug his shoulders at Otis and Ciara in a desperate, cold sweat, and then rush his way into the auditorium shortly after the other group had entered. "Onward! To victoryyyyy!"

All present would hear the laughter of the boy, now from his own voice rather than some kind of phantasmal projection of such, and those looking inside would see a [url=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9c/91/83/9c91837ea285cb963fafd02d2a179c6b.jpg]pale boy[/url] dressed in lavish whites and blues, decorated with a billowing white cape held up by the finest silk threads. He raised his left hand, a crystalline white signet ring flashing with near blinding light.

"I had prepared myself, initially, for the others. But barbarous ones like yourself are all the more fun to watch thrash about. Dance and sweat for me, squire, and mayhap come graduation day I will take you under my employ. For now, though..."

As the light faded, a being would seem to take shape amongst its fading rays. As Iraleth charged forward, the Mannekin in the auditorium appeared to be made of sterner stuff - whether it was the materials or some other factor, those that rose to defend their lord in the auditorium took longer to repel and pierce through than those she had tossed around outside. Some even clung to her as she flew, attempting to jab at her limbs with various blunt objects or even their fists. Ultimately, though, their intent seemed to be to hinder rather than harm.

[b]"Upon the name of House Bronsteel, this chosen heir invokes the name of Eligor, compelling Him to battle once more against hounds of hubris. Rise, Foreteller!"[/b]

As these words landed, laced so potently with essence that the vibrations of the boy's voice could be felt, the light exploded outward from the center of the auditorium, sending shockwaves in all directions that knocked some Mannekin prone as well. In the center, the light fully dispersed, was a [url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/dd/a5/12/dda512aabc92bf44244873118e4956f2.jpg]golden clockwork giant[/url] that cast a grim shadow over much of the auditorium with its ten meter height - and equal bulk to match. An ornamental clock on its right arm began to tick, and it would begin slamming and smashing at anyone and anything that wasn't a Mannekin or its summoner, not holding back in destroying the ground and chairs around it, splintering wood and ground as makeshift shrapnel aimed towards its foes as well.

The boy, meanwhile, had a barrier of visible essence surrounding him now as he proudly posed and laughed atop the grand stage of the auditorium. "[i]This[/i] is a finale worthy of a hero! I, Gulliver Bronsteel, will become the hero these lands need! With my Foreteller and these Mannekin alike, all will become just and righteous upon my steps! Thrash them all, my servants!"

The Mannekin would move faster, seemingly becoming more realistic copies of true warriors with each passing second as they swarmed to attack any of their lord's enemies with precision and coordination unlike any Mannekin that had come before. Davil would be defending the best he could, barely managing to swat away a few while taking strike after strike, slowly being worn down.

"Doesn't sound... very heroic to me, actually. Where do you get off, anyway, trying to stop us like this?! All we want is to take our seats and attend classes, and you're so far in your own ego that you can't even allow that?!" A moment of distraction, lashing out in frustration with a glare towards Gulliver, was all it took. Leaving himself wide open in the heat of it all, a Mannekin that seemed to mimic some kind of open-palmed martial art struck Davil square in the stomach, sending him winded and sprawling backwards as more shrapnel from the golden giant launched towards him in the crossfire.

"Ghhhh," he would grunt, doing his best to defend from the onslaught. Gulliver, meanwhile, would simply stare at him with cold, sadistic spite, like watching an insect squirm through its last moments of life.