Mischief Reef/Đá Vành Khăn/Panganiban Reef - 11/01/2022 08:15 UTC+8 Crossing her arms, Qingshe watched and listened placidly, as Jin Li responded with Mandarin in kind and drew a rough sketch of Southeast Asia. As he spoke, her brow slowly furrowed, the Snake following the direction of his words in relation to the issues she had raised. As he spoke of Lao and Cambodia, she tilted her head, cocking a single brow at his return question. "You think Lao and Cambodia have reason to side with China then." It wasn't phrased as a question. "Yet, as concerning as that is," she added, "in regard to our traitor issue, the relevant question we must ask is if either of those countries have access to Task Force Obsidian's strategic information."
Shaking her head, Qingshe chuffed humorlessly at the nickname for Ren Huo. It might have been funny if it weren't for how very true it was. Rather than exhibiting any particular appreciation for the insult to the Zodiac's Dragon, she inclined her chin at the information regarding the Philippines. She clucked her tongue in disdain. "Then the Philippines is our prime suspect, it seems." She cupped her chin with one hand, rubbing it with her thumb. "Between a government built like a house of cards, openly treasonous militias being formed within their own borders, and the fact that Task Force Obsidian was both originally formed underneath their jurisdiction and seems to largely remain under their command?" The Snake frowned heavily. "Yes... it lines up. They would most likely have the easiest access to compromising data about our deployments."
But yet again, it left her with questions, the "who", "why" and "how" most prevalently. Even knowing of all the war crimes China was committing, it boggled the mind why people would continue to support them in spite of that. Despite all she had seen and done herself, Qingshe was -in some ways- an optimist about humanity. She liked to believe in the strength of good sense and decency in the majority... Well, perhaps she wasn't that optimistic, but she at least believed in humanity's sense of self-preservation. To side with China right now, even knowing what they had done to those they captured or conquered in this war already? How could you justify it? Did anyone really think the devil would play favorites once everything was wrapped up with a nice little bow? No. That was a fantasy, especially with the Downward Descent presently mucking about...
At the pivot to speaking about Ren Huo, Qingshe's expression gained a twinge of consternation. Sighing, she shook her head. "I don't necessarily disagree, My Emperor; Ren Huo is undoubtably a threat. However, that fool would not be as much of a threat without a traitor telling him exactly how and when to attack us. Regardless of his interest, it matters little if he cannot locate us to begin with." She crossed her arms, frowning. "And even if we got the chance to target him, there is demonstrably a major complication: the presence of Cao Bao." A highly troublesome sort if she'd ever known one; Cao Bao was only made more troublesome by the apparent metric that he was far saner and more tactical than the majority of his comrades. Not a high bar to clear, granted, but as an enemy... the Snake would admit he was genuinely dangerous. "Unless we can distract or otherwise deal with Cao Bao long enough to isolate the Dragon, Ren Huo will never die, not while he has that man as his bodyguard."
Pausing, the greenette's golden eyes briefly flicked to Marta, who'd remained quiet all this time and looked a tad bit lost. Well, to be honest, the nun mostly looked like she was paying attention, and an untrained eye might have mistaken her silence for someone merely musing on what was being said tactfully. However, the somewhat glazed look in her eyes betrayed her incomprehension.
Smiling apologetically again at Marta, Qingshe switched from speaking Chinese to Filipino, saying, "Sorry about this. I merely had a bit of a sensitive matter to raise, and such things are best conveyed in our mother tongue." She chuckled. "It would be quite silly to potentially have translation errors in these matters." The half-truth crossed her lips easily; her only true concern had been concealing the topic of her conversation from listeners. Shaking her head, she eyed Marta's bandaged arm. "I thank you for your patience, but I don't believe I got an answer before. If you'd like, I can fix up that arm of yours... along with any less obvious injuries you might still be harboring." She chuckled. "I promise it's not a bother. In fact, you might even say it's one of my main jobs in Obsidian."
@Letter Bee@Amidatelion Mischief Reef/Đá Vành Khăn/Panganiban Reef - 11/01/2022 08:20 UTC+8 Were Cristina to actively seek out Qingshe at this time, she would have little trouble finding a trail. The Snake of the Zodiac was not exactly a subtle figure to behold. Between the way she dressed, her own personal fame and recognition amongst the Qing Restoration Society and the fact that she had recently spent some time actively engaging with people in a search of her own for Jin Li, if Cristina were to ask around, she'd find no shortage of people willing to point her -one of their special guests- in the right direction.
Indeed, here in the heart of the QRS, amongst allies, Lei Qingshe had no particular reason to conceal her destination or target, despite being perfectly capable of it. If Cristina were to search for her, the trail would eventually lead to one of the many beaches that lined the island, and in the distance, she'd likely have little trouble spotting the tall Chinese woman, still clad in her usual eccentric salacious getup and speaking to a similarly eccentrically dressed boy in blue and frills. And sitting next to them on a towel underneath a parasol, there also appeared to be another member of Task Force Obsidian, Marta the "nun", presently clad in a modest swimsuit and with one arm swaddled in bandages.
"It's still so frustrating. New Roosevelt, bah!" Henri exclaimed, referring to the nickname the POTUS received from his corporate busting, "Real Teddy would have worked both in and out of his country, not leaving one side rotting!"
Henri closed his hands into fists, but quickly released them with a sigh. "Who am I kidding. It's everyone's fault, really. US may be isolating itself, but it's not the first time it has done so. Meanwhile Europe pretty much allowed America to handle all the military matters, so they could focus on their economies. It is just like economic bubbles. They've happened in the past, but everyone's just as surprised, when they happen."
He was quiet for a while, listening to Alonso's and Makri's conversation. Henri wasn't sure, how much use he'd be in a surgery. There were so many things that went wrong, and Leonidas's field was indiscriminate. Then the realization kicked in.
"Oh, I see." He finally said. "Well, who am I to force therapy. I'm not even a trained medic, let alone a doctor. I mean, if it came to that, I'd probably volunteer for help, but I'm not sure how much use I'd be. My power only lasts about half a minute, anyway, while a surgery would take hours. Meaning that if the tumor bounced back to magical once the field is gone, it wouldn't be much of a help. I suppose I could go and touch the cancer, but it wouldn't be hygienic by any means."
"Oh, okay," Noel said to Nico, understanding the other person's reasons to refuse. Then his disappointment deepened as he looked at Henri and said, "I see; I might have to ask Qingshe for help, then - Not that we're not already depending on her to carry the group's efforts. No offense meant to everyone else here, by the way..."
He didn't know what to say after that, not for a few seconds, anyway. Noel Alonso tried to find words, but all he could manage was a sigh. Then he turned to Nico once more and mustered a smile before saying, "Glad you're doing better; the group would not be the same without you. So, umm, you just want to rest and continue to - I mean, keep recovering?"
The young man started walking to the beaches, saying, "I'll be looking for Qingshe; here's hoping she is not in a mood to get irritated at being seen as a 'wish dispenser' - I know full well she prefers that humans learn to rely on themselves; that's not a bad thing, after all..."
You're disappointed, Noel, he told himself. Get over it; you're an officer.
Jin Li nodded and said in Mandarin, "Do not discount Laos and Cambodia as potential sources of leaks yet, but yes, the Philippines' local politics is structured such that keeping secrets is hard even among friends and allies. As for the problem of Cao Bao and Huo Ren... 'Thirsty Dragon' can be lured away by waving Noel and Nico - Alonso and Makri - in front of him and addleing his judgment to force him to rush forward without thinking. This will open up a moment of separation that we can use to get that pest killed or otherwise neutralized."
Self-assured, but not overly cocky; this was Jin Li, the founder of the Qing Restoration Society. This was no projected image, no fake guise that he believed. No, this was someone whose nature was to say what he wanted in such a controlled way that it did not come off as an attack, yet was still utterly sincere.
Turning towards Marta, Jin shifted to English, "You really should get healed, yes. Even if suffering builds character, you still need to take care of yourself."
Callie would find Myron sunning himself on the side of Mischief Reef that faced the waters encircled by the atoll; that was the safer area for surfing, as it had the lowest amount of unexploded ordnance. Wearing sunglasses and a speedo as he lay on a sun chair under an umbrella, one can also see that he was eating the Bibingka and Halo-Halo that Noel had asked to reserve for him and Nico - As if he knew the latter would reject the former. Noticing her presence, the young man opened his mouth to say, "Oh, hey, Callie; need anything?"
There were a few QRS soldiers of both genders already surfing, and plenty of spare surfboards. Surprisingly, Wei Rui, one of the soldiers who was with the PLA just a week or so ago, was with them and now wearing Qing Dynasty-themed trunks; Jin Li had a sense of humor, it seemed. Myron would elaborate on his presence, saying, "Oh, yeah, we have defectors - Two of them; the other two who awakened during that mission were too war criminal-y to be allowed outside of our prison camps."
Manila, Philippines - 11/01/2022 08:10 UTC+8
The National Intelligence Coordinating Agency's director, Cornelio Malong, was trying to plug up the constant leaks of confidential information from the Government of National Salvation's databases, even as he worried about the survival of his friend, Angelito Jaime, the Hero of 1988. Overwork and Magic-resistant Lung Cancer were doing him in when the Chinese themselves could not, and now he was on his last legs. And once he died... His Noble Arm would end up with some other person, someone with a similar personality and drive, but not necessarily with the same allegiances.
"We can save him, you know?" he heard Charity's voice echo in his mind. All he had to do was call out to her Avatars, and 'Lito would be transformed into an energy being - One of the candidates for Humilitas.
"I refuse," Cornelio steeled himself for the rebuke that would follow. He would not bow to false Gods.
"Will you let him suffer, then? Let him become one of us; he will lead the world to the cosmic bliss we've all strove for. To knowledge and fulfillment. Then again, Diligence's Candidate is younger and less tired out. Maybe we should redouble our efforts to go after him?"
"Go back to your fake Heaven," was the response. "Better to die as a man than live as a... Whatever you are."
"Not all think the same way," the voice chided. "You need us and our Avatars if you are to win. One call and utter loss and tragedy can be averted; choose wisely"
"We'll find a way," was the rebuttal. "Even if he dies today, or tomorrow, we will find a way."
"So be it, then. But when he dies, we will choose who inherits his Noble Arm."
“Hey” the freelancer greeted as the conversation between Quingshe and her friend came to a close. She didn’t expect to see Marta near ‘the snake’ or that she would wear something like that.
…It wasn’t her place to judge and she doesn’t really ultimately care. She knows more about following god than her.
“I…” she tried to speak before accidentally cutting her words, trying to think of what she should say. That was when she realized one thing.
She didn’t notice it because she knew that she was an ally. She was sitting on the same boat with them and it is in her best interest to keep them fighting. But here, the closest place she had to her own home, when she is about to reveal her vulnerabilities? She realized it.
She fears her, even more than the pervert dragon.
She contemplated pulling back and forgetting about it but she buried her land to the sand. There is nothing she could do by bitching away. She took a deep breath and swallowed her fears what’s the worst she would do, torture her?
“I…”
She recalled her sister. She saved her multiple times during that time, she can save her at least once.
“I need your help.”
She recalled Han Rui’s words, this is the group that makes miracles who said she can’t make one.
“I need to become stronger, fast.”
She stared at Quingshe's snake-like eyes and her figure reflected back to her. Gone was the terrified woman who could barely speak and in exchange was the nearly cold disposition that they always see in her. This time however, she was filled with resolve to accomplish whatever she was planning.
Marta decided she would put serious effort into learning at least a little Mandarin in the future. At the very least, it would prevent situations like being caught staring uncomprehendingly and the subsequent furious blushing. She had apologized, but...
Well, she was about to respond, but then Cristina arrived with a severe look on her face. That was about when she decided this had graduated from a conversation into a "meeting" of sorts, so she stood up and shook some of the sand off her body.
"This little corner is becoming quite popular. Not as popular as Qingshe, though!"
Marta forces a smirk as she gestures meaningfully to her bandaged arm.
“Sure, sure.” Callie only had to half-feign the discomfort at Myron’s casual attitude to their captives’ fate. Should check in on them later – for the intel opportunity and for my own satisfaction. Can easily disguise the former as the latter. “Realities of war, huh? Glad you’re keeping an eye – never thought so much about it when I volunteered over here…”
Okay, so that was utterly unsubtle. Tone it down, Caroline.
Callie nodded to herself, as if contemplating. She’d changed out of her Philippine Army fatigues and replaced them with a loose-fitting t-shirt, a stylised map of the archipelago emblazoned on the back, and a pair of cargo shorts. The simple ensemble lent her an image befitting the (marginally) less brash end of the spectrum of American tourists – just as they were intended to, of course, in other situations. For now, they were light enough for the heat and humidity and sufficiently inconsequential that she didn’t mind them getting doused in seawater.
Given the borrowed surfboard she had tucked under her arm, this was not unlikely.
“I should go ahead and join them, rep TFO.” she said, gaze settled on the shallows. “See if we can get some camaraderie going.” Good – reinforce that naïveté and good-heartedness, make him think he doesn’t have any more layers to peel back.
Callie paused another moment. And now, baiting the hook… “And hey, Myron? One thing I might need… Put in a word for me with command, would you? She turned her head, warm grin spread across her face. “Wasn’t doing well before, I realise that now, and thank you for helping me get to that… But I’m good. I want to help – that’s what we’re all here for, isn’t it? Just need their say-so!”
The last few words she spoke more loudly, calling them out as she turned, threw up a hand in farewell and strode towards the surf. Good, Callie thought, face falling back to its normal focused neutrality. Fingers crossed, he now thinks he can manipulate me with a desire to serve – should lower his guard if I played it right, maybe even get him to come to me with a problem or two – not that I don’t want to help people but – it’ll be fine. Fine.
How about I make this even more productive, huh?
Callie never lived near to the coast.
The US was a large place; one could be on the run for years (and that’s what it had been, she was sure now) and not pass within a hundred miles of the sea. Callie had, in fact, been to the beach but once, on a holiday that her aunt Sandra had insisted on taking after Charter manifested.
One would not, therefore, expect her to be a capable surfer. This would ignore two factors. Firstly, the young Caroline Lidmann had tried to surf on that holiday and, in brief, not exactly mastered it.
Secondly, this had followed shortly after the moment in her life that she became very, very determined.
Callie remembered those days well – remembered going out to the lake day after day, to the same lake where she had won that determination – and practising, on and on, often until the sun was beginning to blaze a bruised orange across its surface. To fall into those long-established patterns, to do something that demanded her focus but not her intellect – even if the vapour on her face was saltier than it was then and the air a searing heat rather than a cool midwestern morning, it still felt glorious.
Of course, another point of difference: actual waves, here.
Paddling out (during which she did actually give ‘Wei Rui’ a friendly wave and greeting) and then riding the crests back (including, as predicted, one dousing as she shook the rust from her old instincts), she’d slowly made her way up the beach, closer and closer to where her Charter-enhanced sight could make out a crowd in the middle distance containing some familiar individuals… Now she came to the final approach. Turning, she began the paddle back to shore, waiting, waiting… There – Callie felt the rising water below her and rose with it, standing with just the slight lean needed to let the wave carry her and the board forward.
For a long, long moment, she let herself exult in the feeling of effortless momentum. The rushing wind caressed her still-damp hair and blustered in ears already rushing with pumping blood and adrenaline; the spray of an ocean painted in deep azure whipped around her legs. Above, a shining, cloudless sky and sun cast her and her surrounds in glorious light, the waters glistening before her passage.
Callie grinned. Then she felt the momentum changing, slowing, closer to shore… Charter fell into her hand; she looked back with a practised focus, gaze piercing out to the seabed a ways beyond the coast even as she kept a part of her consciousness on the board beneath her…
And, with a familiar surge, even as the wave fell upon the sands, a new sheet of water rose under her, bearing her and the board aloft and following her above and over the shoreline! Callie let loose a bright, pealing laugh. Sure, she’d brought out this particular tool in her box to appeal to the aspiring Emperor’s theatrical side but that didn’t make it any less fun than it always was!
Of course, another part of her mind, still very cognisant of her other potential target dressed in her usual form-fitting garb that she had to fight to ignore, screamed at her that she was wet and unkempt and (in a flare-up that brought her back to the emotional awkwardness of middle school) definitely not at her most attractive.
Not that I should even be letting myself think like that in the first place! She’s dangerous – no, that is absolutely not a point in her favour – her loyalties are questionable, plus I was given explicit orders to –
To avoid anything that could be turned to her advantage. And look at me! I am damned capable myself and not so hard on the eyes either! She ignored the In my own way… added by a more tentative voice. I am worth the effort – and who’s to say that I’m the only one who can have their eye drawn? Who’s to say I can’t draw them? Who’s to say I can’t draw hers? I can take advantage of that, can’t I, if it’s in line with my goals?
Letting impulse get in the way of the mission…
Aligning impulse and the mission!
And so, fuelled by determination, adrenaline and more than a little wild abandon, Callie crouched to grab the board, leant back into something approaching a stall, loosed the energy maintaining the portal beneath it to cut off the rushing water and fell, graceful as a gymnast, even as she tucked the surfboard beneath her arm. She landed a few metres opposite the group, heralded by a prismatic cascade that scattered across the sand behind her, and transitioned seamlessly into an easy stride. “Well, this is a merry band!” she announced, flashing a truly brilliant smile at Qingshe before turning to the young man in blue. “And, if I’m not wrong, an illustrious one – your Imperial Majesty, it is an honour to…”
When Callie had taken the chance of glancing at them through Charter earlier, she had noted Sister Marta’s presence – a fresh recruit with an impressive humanitarian record and an equally impressive capacity for healing, from what she’d heard. That accounted for three of the four people she’d seen on approach. She’d recognised the other even at a distance – one ‘Cristina’, also a recruit, about whom she knew far less – but up until now, she hadn’t got a clear sense of her expression or body language. Now she did…
“…I have definitely interrupted something, haven’t I?”
Jasmine's sundress and flip flops were thankfully among the few luxury items she packed in her suitcase. The thought of roaming the sandy beaches in navy attire discomforted her. Those inevitable granules in her dress shoes... She shuddered as she strolled across the moist sandbar, silently delighting in what impressions her footfalls made. Nonetheless, the briefcase she carried had to double for a tote bag.
Her target was yonder cluster of Noble Arms Masters. Admiral Abasolo explicitly instructed to gauge and assist their well being, yet another reason why uniforms were a bad idea. Even so, her visage was drawn to the lone surfer on the outlying seas. Female, seemingly. Was it Lidmann? Jasmine squinted. Yes, apparently so! The Brit's rigorous determination to completing her task gave her an ironically graceful flow to her movement. Jasmine waved, though doubtless Callie's attention was directed elsewhere, judging by her own hand gestures.
Jasmine was so distracted that she almost ignored a massive pit in the sand. She approached it for inspection and was surprised to discover Orozco inside, busily shoveling away at the ground. The crevice was very clearly taller than he; otherwise she'd have spotted a head protruding off the surface. As she stood on the precipice, the sand underneath her began to give way. She staggered backward. Iker finally noticed as his bare toes were covered entirely. He glanced up and shielded his eyes. "What a pleasant surprise!" he announced.
"Yes, um," Jasmine stuttered. What response does such a situation warrant? "Apologies for refilling your hole."
Iker shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first; won't be the last. I wish to employ your assistance, if you desire penitence. Are those waves distant presently? I can't view them from my position."
Jasmine peered out towards Callie again. "I reckon the tide's coming in; it wasn't that aggressive previously. There's no urgency, however."
Iker snapped his fingers. "Confound it." He thrust his shovel into the side of his hovel.
"What's the matter?"
Sand flew out the opening. "So, when excavating this kind of structure, dampness composition is key. Water keeps the walls rigid. Too far from the waterline, and the dry sand falls downward and pours in. Too close, and-" To punctuate, a rogue wave stormed over the dreary gray plains, stopping just at Iker's construction. Jasmine yelped as the frigidity touched her. A foot's worth of progress fell off and slushed at the bottom, hardening to cement Iker's feet in sturdy sand. "That happens," he quipped.
"An exercise in futility, then," Jasmine lamented. "Why do you do it?"
Iker held up his hands. "It's a diversion. And eerily peaceful." Before resuming, he divined additional reasons. "I want to conclude my vacation with an accomplishment, you know?" He tagged a glint of white and blue. "Would you appreciate a seashell?"
Jasmine smiled. "That would be lovely; thanks!" Iker carefully extracted a pristine specimen out of the stucco and extended his arm upward. Jasmine collected and toyed with it, as humans often do with dazzling trinkets. "I'll cherish it," she promised, "but I don't suppose it's healthy to labor alone."
Iker surveyed his workspace. "I didn't bring a second trowel, and I doubt the spare space would fit you. But I'm certain you can locate tools in the abandoned Chinese base. That's where I got mine."
"No, I meant you should fraternize with the others," she laughed, pointing off to Qingshe. "A bunch of our friends gather beside that tree. You could use the social acumen."
Iker's countenance disagreed with that advice, but he had little rationale to support his objection. "The project isn't nearly deep enough for my usual specifications."
A sister wave dumped an extra load of sediment into the basin, ensnaring Iker to his knees. "Perhaps it's the will of God," he mused. Resigned to abandonment, he outstretched his palm. Jasmine squeezed it and pulled with her full strength. Iker was out in a jiffy. He dusted himself off and sighed in relief. "Lead me to this gathering."
The duo arrived in time to hear Callie's boisterous announcement, followed by instant regret: “…I have definitely interrupted something, haven’t I?”
"It likely wasn't important," Iker assured, scanning the scene for faces. He knew... probably two or three of those present, and none particularly well. "Our aim is to relax, and there's no relaxation in heavy talk. Certainly not while we have numbers for what constitutes a party, or maybe some manner of sports." He stretched. "Speaking of, 'twas you who rode the surfboard, wasn't it? Well performed!"
"Yes, you're quite deft!" Jasmine added. "Well, since the conversation is halted," she unbuckled her case, "I've been authorized by my superiors to distribute these for a job well done at Jinghong Dam." She opened her luggage like a book, displaying the vibrantly colored wrappers within. "Candies! Nothing that melts, of course. Select your favorites! They're American imports. I guess not everything from the United States is cutoff from us, eh?"
Iker perused the selection. "Anything watermelon flavored?"
"Gum, I think." Jasmine nodded to a lime green rectangular wrapper, and Orozco nabbed it.
"So, would anyone care for music?" Iker asked. "I don't possess instruments, but I'm sure our powers combined might assemble an orchestra of sorts."
"None taken, Lieutenant" Henri replied, saluting. The fact that he couldn't be much help on the matter really frustrated him, but he did his best not to show it.
"If anyone needs me, I'll be at the gym" He notified everyone as he watched Nico leave. It was good to inform everyone, especially in a situation like this.
As Henri reached the gym, there were some looks at his direction, but for the most part the soldiers inside were focused on their own training. Henri himself noticed a vacant sandbag and claimed it. He allowed himself to release his frustrations, as he pounded the sack with punches and kicks.
"30 seconds" He growled as he continued pounding,"30 lousy seconds, and everything returns to normal. Who can perform a surgery in less than a minute. And you can't even use Arm assistance, because they'll be neutralized as well."
Henri had to stop to take a breath after the assault. Never would he had imagined to wish the Leonidas was smaller. Size of a pin or something. Something that could be fit into a wound.
No. Wallowing over limitations was of no help. Weapons existed for different purposes. Anti-air is anti-air, and anti-tank is anti-tank, and that's something that can't be changed. If they found a way to improve Henri's ability, he'd take the opportunity, but now all he could do was what he was good at.
"Though, there is one thing I could improve" Henri thought to himself, as he saw the weightlifting bench. A kilo or two for the personal best might improve his mood.
He would continue training maybe an hour, before resting again, or something came along.
Striding along, Nil found out the island had little to offer outside the QRS installations and the sandy beaches, even then space was at some points too stringent for long continuous sand-filled beaches. The shores best fit for relaxation are of course where everyone goes, even at a distance you can see people grouping and interacting.
Observing the beautiful Panganiban reef with a flat, obstacle-free view one thing occupied her mind, thirst, smart people would have brought water for their long walk but Nil’s name was Nil so she brought none. Outside the main area near the airplane runway and docks there were just more docks, unfinished projects, less people hanging around and a boring load of nothing.
Nil turned around and started to go back, satisfied but also in part defeated, after failing to get to the end point of the island.
Here was a summary of what they had been doing in the past few weeks - After the ordeal that had been the Jinghong Dam mission, the members of Task Force Obsidian, our motley group of Arms Masters and key support personnel, had been sent to rest and recuperate in Mischief Reef, a former Chinese Base overran by a group of rebels against China, the Qing Restoration Society, where they were to wait for new orders.
The world changed in another week, setting the stage for those updated objectives.
During the final days of their vacation, two more recruits/volunteers were flown in; the first was Roberto 'Berto' Williams, a strange Arms Master who used to wander around as a freelancer. His Noble Arm was useful for support and repair, perfect for missions that required some form of utility.
The second was Aoi Mikoto, a mysterious Japanese woman who had awakened her Noble Arm fairly recently, and whose capabilities were largely unknown. Noel was suspicious of them both; finding the first recruit weird and the second to be slightly scary, but Myron had vetted them and that was enough, especially as there were bigger fish to fry.
Qingshe would find the source of the leak, the politically influential Danggal Clan/Family in Baguio City, which had briefly rebelled, taken the city, and tried to invite the Chinese in. They had been brought to heel, but only after their head, Dior de Danggal, had changed sides and turned against the Chinese troops he had himself invited, then pretended that it had been his plan all along. This meant, however, that no one was sure as to whether Task Force Obsidian's secrets were indeed safe.
But more important than whether Task Force Obsidian was safe from another ambush were the results of the Midterm Elections in the United States of America - Candidates that were campaigning on a promise of reducing aid to Ukraine and ASEAN failed to gain several key seats in Congress, and people more amenable to sending weapons, cash, and the US Navy to the South China/West Philippine Sea were in power instead. This 'Midterm Miracle' would not have been possible without the revelation of Ai Chen's 'depravities' in the Jinghong Dam Prison Camps, which shocked the American populace into action as each excess came to light.
Now, the members of Task Force Obsidian, old and new, were in Mischief Reef's Military Airport, where First Lieutenant Noel Alonso had set up an auditorium using abandoned People's Liberation Army equipment to announce the new orders. The young man, barely eighteen years old, was wearing a crisp green military uniform, and conscious of the need to avoid the mistakes of his last time conveying the goals for the current mission. Either way, there was a podium with a microphone, a projector, a screen, and slides showing the City of Phnom Penh, Cambodia... Their next destination.
"The King of Cambodia, His Majesty Sisowath Samnang, has called for a parley between the various ASEAN Countries and the People's Republic of China, and all parties have accepted his call for a diplomatic meeting at Phnom Penh, its capital. Why? Because the US is about to return to the West Philippine Sea and China does not to provoke the new War Hawks in the US Congress by revealing more Ai Chens and more Jinghong Dam Prison Camps," Noel's tone was raised in a slightly arch tone, reverberating with disbelief.
"This will not end the war, but the leadership thinks they can secure a sixty-day truce and better treatment for our PoWs, at the very least," The youth then looked at the various members of TFO, trying to keep a straight face, then snorted loudly at what he had just said.
”I’m certain a number of you have raised red flags regarding this meeting, and indeed our intelligence services have warned us extensively. For a couple of months of peace and the release of certain POWs, ASEAN has determined the reward is well worth the risk. Our job is to mitigate that risk, and protect them in case anything turns sour.”
"So, Chief..." Berto's deferential tone belied his casual words, "what's our role in this? Site security? Maybe I'm just the FNG talking, but this doesn't seem like a 'site security' kinda crew. I mean, we can have a look, shore up any holes... but is that actually what you want us doing?"
I'd like to thank my wife and daughters, who've tolerated me throughout this entire campaign. I'd like to thank Christ, who's tolerated me a tad longer. Keith out there, my coordinator. Yeah, he's as flabbergasted as I am! To each individual listening tonight, without whom the margins would be yet further razor thin! Also to Mayor Rodriguez. You fought with honor. In this day and age, I deeply respect that.
Both of us recognize rightly that the United States of America is good, a beacon of liberty and prosperity. Today we decided as a nation that she is a force for good. The more of the world we influence, the better it becomes. Now, darkness has covered the planet. I promise you, tyranny shall not have the last say. We will not hide our light under a bushel! The world will witness our qualities! God bless you all! God bless the USA!
Mischief Reef - Remote Operations - 11/9/2022, 13:25 UTC +8
Strange locations often unnerved Adrián, though this was a slight upgrade. The quarters on Mischief Reef were cleared of Chinese hardware and refitted with trustworthy, compatible home computers: a mishmash of old and new. Admiral Abasolo paused his computer work momentarily to view the small television screen in his overly sized office. His countenance bore no elation, merely a curt nod before closing desktop windows and opening others. His fingers furiously clacked away at the keyboard.
From her own smaller compartment, Jasmine piped, "New orders, sir?"
"I'll manage this time, thank you," Abasolo continued. "Continue the back burner duties." His typing was interrupted by the distinct popping of a cork. His eyes shot upward to find Bautista in the doorway. The clinking of glass crystal heralded Bautista's intentions, and Abasolo reacted accordingly. "What are you doing, Lieutenant General?"
"What do you think, Rear Admiral?" Bayani replied. "Celebrating! Didn't you hear the news?"
Abasolo directed a finger to the television screen and resumed progress. "It's the early afternoon, Bautista. It's uncouth to drink during work hours. We can raise festivities later."
Bautista chortled. "The Americans will double their support, and might intervene on our behalf! An afternoon off is well warranted. We need not carry the burden of war by ourselves!" Bautista placed his cups on Jasmine's desk and began to pour. "I brought a cup for each of us!"
"Nonetheless, for significant events, we should attend our posts."
The chivalrous Bautista offered the first drink to Jasmine. "What for?"
The phone rang on Jasmine's desk. She answered it promptly. "Rear Admiral Abasolo's forward operating desk." She looked up at Bautista's face. "Yes, he's here. Why, may I ask?" She gazed off into the distance, then retrieved a pen and paper. After mhms, yeses, and a flurry of scribbling, she promised that "I'll relay the information, sir." She hung up the phone. "The Kingdom of Cambodia reports a breakthrough in negotiations. Laos confirms it. The PRC have requested a ceasefire. The Kingdom offers to host negotiations."
Bayani, realizing that he alone was interested in revelry, lifted his own glass. "To hell with the Chinese! They're scared for the first time in this conflict. I see no reason why we ought to placate them when we have the advantage! They certainly wouldn't have returned the favor."
Abasolo wriggled his nose and sniffled. "Do you have any family, Lieutenant General?"
Bayani shrugged. "My spouse at home."
"I'd prefer to conclude this war with our sovereign territory intact, without losing further close relatives." He glanced aside at a deflated Jasmine. "We've already lost far too many, and revenge is hardly a way to mitigate that." He clicked on mouse buttons. "And sent. I will say it's curious that the Cambodians talked with the Chinese before informing us. Our talks broke down almost instantly, as did those of most of our allies."
"The king passed away recently, didn't he?" stated Bautista. "That's the extent of my knowledge about the place, anyways. Perhaps it weakened their will."
"Take it with a grain of salt, then. I'll keep it under advisement as I write my recommendation to the-"
"Sir," Jasmine interrupted, raising her hand. "I received a missive from the Department of Foreign Affairs. They've already accepted, and they request support from our Arms Masters."
Bautista nodded. "We've gained quite the reputation, it seems, for our accomplishments."
"Indeed," Abasolo concurred. "And protection is not unwise."
"Shall I go inform the troops, then?" Jasmine volunteered.
"No, let Noel handle this. He could use the leadership opportunities. 1800 hours." As Jasmine reached for her telephone, Adrián assured her, "I can handle it."
Phnom Penh - National Assembly - 12:25 UTC +7
Tola Chey swallowed as big text flashed across the bottom of the live feed from the United States. His shaky hands reached into his coat pocket for a handkerchief, which he used to daub his brow. He exhaled as an aide approached him. "Is something wrong, Assemblyman?"
Chey met her eyes. As a member of FUNCINPEC, he was always a dissident on a wide gamut of measures, but nowadays speaking out was dangerous. "What's your name?"
"Phuong Keo, Assemblyman."
"And how loyal are you?"
She cocked her head. "Sir? To... to what, sir?"
Truth be told, Tola didn't quite know himself. "To Cambodia."
She considered the implications, then nodded. "Very, Assemblyman."
Tola exhaled in relief. The answer revealed nothing, but the reflection told everything. He looked around his office. Bugged, probably. "Let's take a walk, Phuong Keo."
They traversed the halls of the National Assembly. Clogging the artery was a large band of Chinese muckety-mucks, talking with their Cambodian counterparts. Chey drew Keo aside as the gathering sauntered past them to acquire lunch. "Is this in preparation for the convention everyone's talked about?" Keo asked, innocently.
Chey resumed walking. "Sure, sure," he dismissed.
The development site at the building's side wasn't amenable to much, but sparingly few people used it for a meeting place. Any construction workers would've taken five to enjoy their midday num pang. It was perfect. Chey could no longer keep his reservations reserved. "We're playing with fire. The Chinese, the Americans. We kept the war a distant diversion, handing it off to the Filipinos and the Vietnamese, but soon we'll be the epicenter. I alone notice it. It's tearing me apart inside." His face turned ghastly pale.
Keo was ill prepared for confidence of this magnitude. Her jaw dropped, yet no sound came from it. After a minute, she replied, "So what's your plan?"
"Plan?" Chey scoffed. "There is none! Only death!"
At that point, the two heard sounds of powerful motors from mighty vehicles. Keo grinned. "Please don't worry, Assemblyman. The new tanks will protect us if something goes awry!"
Chey adjusted his neck collar. "Yes, that's what I'm afraid of."
"Well, with any hope we shouldn't need to do much more than that."
Marta spoke from the chair where she was seated, paying close attention to the briefing. She flexed her fingers idly, enjoying the recovery from the last mission.
"It's a diplomatic encounter, after all, right? Even after everything, the Chinese would not risk the bad publicity of attacking a ceasefire negotiation in broad daylight. It... doesn't have any rationale, yeah?"
The nun must admit that statement was charged with more than a little wishful thinking. It would be wonderful if there were a ceasefire, preferably one that helped the whole situation get sorted without any more violence. Still, she wasn't so naive as to expect that things had any guarantee of turning out that rosy.
Even so... she did sincerely believe it would be irrational in the utmost.
"But this is going to be a big, important event with tons of dignitaries and such, right? I hope we won't have to be in front of the cameras too much, I'm not really good with all that..."
After she said this, she reflexively checked to make sure there weren't any stray hairs peeking around the side of her headdress.
A number of things make Nil doze off, long briefings being one of them, fortunately she found it easier to follow Noel than the Admiral last time. Or at least make an attempt to follow, Nil had no idea what things like War hawks, US Congress or red flag all meant, but she didn’t question it.
Sounded important. While trying to figure out the relevancy of that, Nil observed the pictures on screen, the riverside city being a welcoming change from the tiny atoll they are currently on.
As the Lieutenant finished his talk, Nil sat a bit more comfortably, as if finally understanding their assignment was mitigating risks and those were clear orders and needed no further discussion.
Nil put on her new earmuffs, she did consider keeping a collection given how easily they broke in the recent missions, but failed where or how to buy them so the idea got thrown out that same day. Slowly she started nodding with her head, obviously trying to imitate headbanging she might have seen these past days, but listening to blissful silence instead, surely no one would enjoy putting loud rock music on their ears.
Glancing around she recognised a few faces and some others were rather new, to this moment trying to figure out what Berto and Aoi are all about.
"Hoh?" Qingshe raised a brow at Cristinia's request, a pleasant surprise. Although the timing could perhaps have been better... Glancing around at how crowded the section of the beach they were in was getting all of a sudden, the Snake had to loose a small chuckle, shaking her head in exasperation.
To Jin Li, she eventually said in Mandarin, "It seems our conveyance is growing less discreet by the moment. Perhaps we should continue this elsewhere another time. Perhaps tomorrow?" For now though...
She addressed Martha in English. "Hah, please excuse my interruption. I'll soon leave you again to your relaxation... this time hopefully more comfortable than before." From beneath her dress hem, her bubbling ooze spread forth, crossing the short distance to Martha and raising up a thin metallic plank from its mass that the ooze then proceeded to largely coat.
"Simply stick any part of yourself that requires treatment into the shadow, and I'll have you fixed right up~. No need for a full dunking... unless you want it, that is~." Giving a small hum, she grinned. "It may take a small while to complete, as I don't believe I've treated you yet. The first time is always the slowest." She didn't elaborate on why.
Finally turning her attention fully back to Cristina, Qingshe chuckled and spoke in Filipino. "I cannot say I was expecting such a request, Miss Bernardino, but regardless... I'd be more than happy to oblige you." Humming lyrically, she tapped her lips and grinned. "Still, such a conversation as I'm sure you'd require may be... sensitive in nature. Let us take our consultation away from prying ears, shall we?"
The Snake paused at the approach of yet another still, letting out a small chuff at the arrival of Callie. Shaking her head in good humor, Qingshe's lips quirked with a hint of wryness, as she answered the blonde's question. "Ah~, you're not interrupting all that much by now, really~."
Grinning, her slitted golden eyes squinted into smiles. "As it happens, Miss Bernardino and I were just now taking our leave, I believe." She smiled apologetically. "I'd invite you along for what promises to be a fascinating subject of consideration, but well..." She chuckled. "Consider the nuance of the matter something not dissimilar to doctor-patient confidentiality... Unless Miss Bernardino is willing to have you along, of course."
Nervously shook her head, she barely felt safe with what she's doing and would appreciate a company but this is her battle, she needs to face it alone.
"I'm not willing," she answered as she waits for Qingshe's move.
"Lead the way."
Qingshe’s mouth quirked. “Well, there we have it then~.” Sketching a small waggle of her fingers in farewell to the other beachgoers, the greenette practically sauntered away back towards the more industrialized portions of the island. Grinning to Cristina, Qingshe added, “I know just the place~.”
There was no particular rush, and so the pace the Snake led was a languid one. Traversing the streets of the Qing Restoration Society’s present capitol, the pair naturally earned glances everywhere they went. After all, Qingshe alone cut a notable figure even were her position in this nation’s hierarchy not also nothing to sneeze at.
Despite her own apprehension of the tall, unnaturally beautiful woman, if she had a mind to be looking, Cristina would likely notice that Qingshe’s presence seemed to put a pep in the step of many of the civilians. Some smiled. Others even waved. And the Snake sometimes returned those wordless gestures of amiability.
Whatever her past or often uncanny presence, actions in the present spoke louder still. The Zodiac were meant to be symbols of power, of hope and order, showcasing their government’s glorious inevitable victory against those that would oppose them.
For these people, traitors to that tyrannical regime, the fact that their movement had seemingly stolen away one of those beacons of power, those propped up as symbols? It was fortifying, hope granting, and it enhanced the legitimacy of their cause. To have one of the Zodiac take their side made the odds seem just that little bit less long, a welcome morale boost even for the genuine believers. It was, in a sense, a PR coup… one that had only gained even greater momentum after the latest mission had seen the QRS’s Zodiac soundly defeat the CCP's with the death of Ai Chen by Qingshe’s hands.
Qingshe, of course, did not fail to comprehend and bolster this phenomenon. In a sense, it was rather similar to the role she’d once played for the PRC, and it cost her little to form connections with the people of her new faction where she could, to show the flag and keep spirits high.
Not to mention… but there was a certain presence of “humility” one could cultivate by being a powerful figure and yet continuing to interact with everyday folk instead of sitting in an ivory tower.
And so, now, as she had before, Qingshe didn’t waste the opportunity to be seen on the way to her destination, throwing a smile here and a small wave there. A few times, she even addressed someone by name, inquiring after old business and their well being in passing. And the Snake naturally knew that the more she did this, the tighter her coils intertwined within the social structure of the QRS. Soon enough, she was confident her position would be quite secure and irrevocable regardless, provided the aims of the QRS panned out, but it never hurt to lay a firmer foundation for the future.
Not that that would have been too difficult anyway. The residential district the pair of Arms Masters were traveling through was located atop a massive stretch of land around 2 kilometers across that jutted out of the side of the already artificial island.
This “land” was, in fact, rather a series of interconnected concrete blocks, spreading out over the central waters of Mischief Reef’s lagoon. If someone were to have the right power, they might ascertain that the blocks had all been welded together somehow on a molecular level, such that it almost wouldn’t be incorrect to say the structure was simply one large half-circle jutting down southward into the innards of the existing half-moon of the island.
Meanwhile, unseen, beneath that structure, dozens of thick steel alloy pillars acted as supports, punched hundreds of feet into the earth. But perhaps far more interesting was what was built atop it.
A sprawling residential district proudly gleamed under the light. Largely composed of two and three-story buildings, this place was easily the most homely section of the island, home to the many QRS loyalists and many refugees from the PRC’s China. It was here that had quickly become the heart of the island in the past year, thanks in large part to the recruitment of the Snake.
It hadn’t take her long after arrival for Lei Qingshe to make no bones that the living conditions and quality of life were insufficient. To see the citizenry stuck living in meager bungalows wouldn’t be allowed on her watch. Therefore, for once put in a position of true authority, Qingshe had used her power to produce masses of material and oversee a sprawling, expansive construction project to invigorate and modernize the locale, truly turning it into something worth calling a “nation”. And for that, she had determined, they could not remain a mere military base. No, they must be able to support a civilian population.
And the results were clear to see.
The buildings here in large part possessed metallic, armored exteriors, layered with rust-resistant alloy that was often a foot thick or more. The windows similarly were largely constructed with conventionally considered “bulletproof” glass. For, though their defenses were good and the central area not as easily reached, Qingshe hadn’t failed to prepare for the eventuality that the Reef might come under siege. In such a case, the construction here in the heartland would resist splendidly, all but a massive sprawling fortress of a zone.
Despite the militaristic mind taken to the construction, however, aesthetics weren’t sacrificed, and the entire district gave off an air that could only be called “futuristic”. Instead of the “boxy” shape of most modern construction, these buildings had smooth, rounded outsides and sweeping curves. This, of course, was also slightly militantly minded, as curved armored structures would be more difficult to destroy with bombardment, providing angled armor to assaults.
Yet, still, they gleamed with a silvery sheen in many places, their fresh nature apparent. And where they did not shine silver, many other colors had quickly cropped up, as people came to live here and add their own personal touches in the forms of storefronts and homes. Though, most dominantly, there seemed to be a preference for brilliant yellows and vibrant blues, which seemed to be the factional color. Though, secondary still to that, there was a not inconsiderable number of buildings that hewed towards a light-drinking black and bright green, Qingshe’s own aesthetic and likely something many had adopted in acknowledgement of her role in pushing for this place to exist at all.
And all the while, the flag of the Qing Restoration Society flew proudly on practically every street and over many shops and domiciles, displaying a winding blue and white-scaled eastern dragon on a bold yellow background with a red dot in the top-left corner.
Striding along the bustling sidewalks, Qingshe led the way down the main street of this district towards a notably larger structure, positioned roughly dead center of the reef’s lagoon.
One could use several descriptors to encompass the place, but perhaps foremost among them might be “traditional”. The six-story building hearkened back to images of Chinese palaces, standing roughly twice as tall as the average building in the area. It wouldn’t be a long stretch to call the structure a declaration in and of itself of the intent of the QRS, announcing that they treated this palace is as a vision of the future where they had restored their monarchy.
And it was to that place that Qingshe was gradually making her way.
Cristina quietly followed the snake, as she makes her stroll around the capitol. It wasn't as hasty than she would've preferred, but there is no reason to voice her complaints to someone who's lending a hand.
She never felt so small standing next to someone, and she wasn't talking about their heights. The unexpected part was it doesn't felt that's being suffocated.
Admittedly, a huge part of it might be conscious effort, but seeing how she interacts with her own people, to see her talk to them and inspire confidence on them.
She looked like a symbol of hope to them, no she is one.
She snapped out of her thoughts when she saw the residential district of the Reef. It looked more like a resort than a refugee center and judging by how Qingshe looked at it, it seems like she had a hand on its construction.
Compared to little, weak, cowardly her she might as well be a god.
Does she deserve to stand in this ground?
She wasn't a hero, just a girl who wanted her sister back, and said sister hates her.
Qingshe will hear a laugh, a defeated laugh, one that you could hear when someone had enough as they enter the palace.
She might not intend to do it, but she had already beaten Cristina's self-esteem.
At the defeated noise from Cristina, Qingshe nearly paused. Though, being that she was still in public and in a position to be upholding appearances, she didn't allow her smile or confident air to wane, as she shot Cristina a brief look in the corner of her eye, observing the worn quiet the girl was languishing in.
The reasoning for her depressed air wasn't quite clear, but perhaps she was still mulling over the past and the future? The after-action reports regarding the interactions with "Superbia" and the one calling herself Cristina's sister had been... "interesting" to read... at least as far as how ridiculous they were. It all seemed so... absurdly petty to her, but then again, what was she really expecting from the Downward Descent? They were the embodiment of all that was irrational and loathsome.
Tangentially, Qingshe still could not fathom how horrendous Nico's luck was. How did this man somehow unfailingly manage to gather obsessive and powerful stalkers from every antagonistic faction he encountered? This was just ridiculous. So... so stupid. Honestly, it made her wonder if the likes of Huo Ren hadn't gotten such foolishness from the Downward Descent's influence... It was a nice fantasy anyway.
Letting out a hum of consideration, the Snake dragged herself back to the present and took a moment to organize her thoughts, as she and Cristina reached the palace complex and passed through a quick routine security check. As they stepped into a lavishly decorated and expansive foyer area, Qingshe allowed her pace to quicken minutely, heading for a large staircase and shooting some passing staff a nod.
Heading up toward the fourth floor, Qingshe smirked and leaned over slightly to conspiratorially whisper to her fellow Arms Master, "Personally, I'm not much for ostentatious grandeur of this kind, but apparently, there's certain appearances to uphold... or so Ren Zhao would insist." She chuckled at the thought of that silly, jealous man.
"He was the one to greet us on arrival," she elaborated as a reminder, just in case the man had somehow gone overlooked. Which would be markedly funny and true to form, regardless, given that the entire reason for his own defection as far as she was aware was being overlooked for his brother.
Loosing a chuff, as they traversed hallways gilded with traditional Chinese finery, Qingshe added, "Don't get me wrong, I enjoy showing off as much as the next person..." she smirked, "but I prefer to show off things with purpose." She gestured broadly to the halls. "In the end, what is all this but an imitation, filled with impermanence. For all that the QRS is using this as our capitol at present, we know it won't last. This is effectively a loan from the Philippines, given their own territorial claims, and I quite imagine that if we win this war, ceding it to them fully will be part of negotiations to maintain the sanctity of our alliance. Anything we build here is... fleeting, in the end."
Shaking her head, Qingshe chuckled. "But I'm getting away from myself. There's something to be said for putting on a show, but isn't it better to draw admiration for a purpose other than bragging?" She shrugged, grinning. "Grand works should do more than simply put others down or raise yourself up. They should inspire, lead by example. What they should evoke is aspiration, not jealousy. For in the end, one of those encourages others to rise up... while the other only urges them to drag others down."
Tapping her lips with one finger, she chuffed. "Such things are the reason the balance between admiration and spite is so delicate in the end. That's how I feel anyway."
Cupping her chin with one hand, Qingshe's golden, reptilian gaze focused more intently on Cristina, as they neared their destination. "What one should hope to invoke with one's own greatness in others is ambition, the thirst to improve and... evolve for the sake of themselves and others." Her smile was all teeth. "The development of one's Noble Arm most often is rooted in such a genuine desire as well... which leads me to ask..."
The pair arrived at a doorway with keycard scanner and number pad, the light on which flashed green without any movement from Qingshe to interact with it. Perhaps it had been remotely triggered somehow? Regardless, the door swung open to admit the pair into a room that was -though comparable to a luxury apartment- far less ostentatious than the halls outside. These facilities here, rather, seemed to share a greater reminiscence to the futuristic lean of the district outside the palace, and the Snake's black and green aesthetic was heavy here... though largely inverted. The dominant color was greens in the decor with black as an accent, creating a fairly more welcoming and less inherently ominous "vibe" than the owner usually championed.
As soon as the two had stepped inside and the door closed securely behind them, Qingshe finally deigned to finish her prior thought. "...What is it that drives you, Miss Benardino?"
There was a quiet passionate intensity in the Snake's words, as she strode further into her abode towards a small sleek... tea table? It had enough seats around it to easily accommodate them both at least. Qingshe availed herself, at that, and a small wave of her hand beckoned Cristina to make herself comfortable as well.
All the while, Qingshe was still speaking. "And I do not... necessarily mean what drives you in this particular moment." She chuckled, tapping a finger on the table. "I mean what drives you to improve as a concept. I mean as a pattern." Leaning back in her chair, Qingshe tilted her head slightly. "I mean in the sense of what mindset first drove your Noble Arm to awaken at all... and I'm willing to bet strongly that there's a correlation between that moment and many of the future points of... improvement in your capabilities."
Inclining her chin, Qingshe paused, seeming to stare into the distance for a moment, before chuckling and shaking her head. "Though, perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself again." She smirked in a manner that was almost self-depreciating. "Let me ask you then, adjacently, how much do you really know about the nature of Noble Arms?"
Cristina was visibly nervous, as she enters Qingshe's mansion. She'd infiltrated other mansions before, but this the first time she enters one as a guest. It felt wrong if anyone asked her.
"To raise others up? Was it really a good ideal?" she asked. Qingshe after all is not the first person who said those words.
Her sister was the best of them, the only one to unlock her Noble Arms among them. The best fighter, the most clever...
...and the kindest. The most caring.
She wondered what would happen if she just saved herself, she would make a better member of the Obsidian compared to her.
She did her best to keep up with the Serpent's ramblings.
Noble Arms are powered by desire, the will to do 'something' is what makes it powerful.
It needs a 'drive'.
She initially tried to answer money but it wasn't what really drives her. What made her start
"Everything I did was for a small hope that I can save my sister instead what she always do, it wasn't meant to be however." she answered as she looked at a window.
"As for the nature of Noble Arms, I think they are a reflection of what their owners wanted to achieve, some sort of soul manifestation?"
"Naturally, raising others up is a most laudable thing," Qingshe said with a grin, before chuckling. "Though, I find it more sustainable to encourage others to raise themselves up in turn. Rather than doing all the work for them, give others the tools to help themselves." She smiled warmly. "In such a way, they will not be left helpless without you, and you will not find yourself burdened with unnecessary expectations. And those you help raise up can help raise others in turn."
Not making any move to address her guest's nerves verbally, Qingshe chuckled and favored the anxious Cristina with a smile, as a small puddle of her shadow bubbled out from beneath her arm and smoothly ejected a small, pristine glass tea set with two empty cups and a cozy little teapot presently steaming merrily from the spout. A sweet, herbal scent drifted into the air, as Qingshe filled both cups and took one for herself, the other standing in silent offering.
"Though your knowledge is incomplete, you're on the right track," the Snake praised in response.
Taking a slow, comfortable sip, the greenette let out a pleased hum and then placed her cup down upon one of a pair of saucers that had manifested in the interim of her handing it. Her shadow slunk away, disappearing from sight once more.
Licking her lips, Qingshe briefly organized her thoughts, before continuing to address the primary topic of this meeting, "You are correct that Noble Arms have a connection to the soul. Most of them -the naturally born ones- are reflections of their user in some capacity. In fact, one could say a Noble Arm is never more possessed of potential than it is with its creator." Leaning back in her chair, she sighed. "Try as many might, inherited Noble Arms will never truly match up. There will always be some level of... let's call it 'spiritual dissonance' that holds them back."
"Despite the vast majority of Noble Arms not having anything worth referring to as 'sentience', it can't be denied that they possess a certain capacity to reject a user they find unfavorable." Qingshe let out an amused chuff, grinning. "They truly are immensely picky little things, and they exercise stiff favoritism. When it comes to inheritance, a Noble Arm holds all future users to the standard of their first one, and the more precisely alike one is to the original user, the more likely the Noble Arm will bond with them and successfully develop further abilities under their partnership."
Her expression turned a bit more serious. "Of course, because it's simply impossible for two people to have truly identical souls, there's no scenario where an inheritor will truly possess the same potential as the original. Really, it's a stroke of luck for a Noble Arm to allow itself to be inherited at all... never mind operating optimally for another."
Shaking her head, the Snake sighed, a glint of warning and pity in her gaze. "Some have thought it wise to try and force a bond by various means, of course, but the backlash of incompatibility is such cases... Well, let's just say the would-be inheritor usually ends up lucky to survive... or even come away sane..." The Snake let that statement hang ominously, allowing the warning to sink in, before adding grimly. "And still others... the likes of the Downward Descent... They have found... truly unholy ways to manifest success... at the cost of everyone involved. Forcing a Noble Arm to work with a normally incompatible user... Forcing two Noble Arms to coexist under the same host...?"
Closing her eyes, Qingshe let out a sigh of genuine sympathy. "I wasn't there to witness it personally, but I read the after-action reports..." Her golden eyes reopened, half-lidded. "What happened to your sister... The madness, irrationality and unfettered twisted desires... Such things are not unusual consequences of undergoing the Downward Descent's abominable enhancements."
Taking another sip of her tea, the Snake exhaled and tapped the table with one finger rhythmically. "The process of forcibly bonding to an unwilling Noble Arm is a wholly unnatural thing, and for it to result in anything but painful death or the agonizing evisceration of the recipient's soul, it requires both Arm and User to be... twisted to artificially create a commonality between them for the bond to truly take hold..."
Scoffing derisively, the Snake briefly scowled, shaking her head. "Or so I can only strongly theorize. Even under the PRC, that isn't something I've ever attempted." Largely for lack of technical capacity than any moral-based unwillingness at the time, granted, but Cristina didn't need to hear that less flattering tidbit.
"But as for what Noble Arms truly are in more explicit terms... Hmmm, how shall I put this?" Qingshe tapped her lips with one finger. "Tell me, have you heard of the phenomenon succinctly named... 'Occult Programming Language'?"
Cristina took the tea, it did little to calm her nerves but it was enough to make the 'consulation', breathable for the lack of better word. She smiled a little bit at getting the question partially right, making inferences was one of the few things she's good at.
She recoiled in fear as she heard of what Qingshe thought happened to her sister. Everything that happened to her was because she left her alone that time, she should've have stayed with her.
"And what will you do, fight with that piece of metal, please save yourself instead.
The freelancer stayed silent, before asking.
"So in order to free her, we need to undo the enhancements? Their forced bonds?"
The then looked at the teacup before answering the snake's last question.
"I know nothing, but if you ask me about it, it must be something important." she answered looking at her snake-like eyes.
Huffing, Qingshe took no pleasure in partially shooting Cristina's idea down. "It may not be so simple. As I said..." As inconvenient as it was... "Dabbling in matters of successful forcible Noble Arm grafting isn't something I can count under my repertoire. I have theories... ones with strong basis, yes, but only theories."
Taking another sip of her tea, Qingshe sighed. "I've inspected those... 'gifted' by the Downward Descent in the past, of course, enough to form the aforementioned conclusions, but I've never tried to revert the process." Not with a living subject to show for it afterwards...
She lifted up a finger, listing off. "The problems are threefold here. One, breaking the bond between the victim and a grafted Noble Arm. Already, that would be an immense feat, to shatter such a normally inviolable bond... and to do so without harming the bonded. This is the first step, because if we tried to return the victim to normal before doing so, even if we succeeded, they would immediately suffer from 'spiritual dissonance' and likely die due to the still bonded and now incompatible Noble Arm."
A second finger rose. "Secondly, there's no guarantee such a separation would inherently revert the victim's mind and soul. I suspect what the Downward Descent does is nothing so flimsy as an 'enchantment', fit to be unraveled wholly by the right hands." Her expression darkened. "What I believe they do is twist the victim's soul irrevocably... like playdough. And like playdough, returning it to its precisely exact former shape is something nearly impossible."
The Snake rubbed her chin, frowning. "No two souls are ever truly alike, and successfully determining the exact nuances of even a single subject enough to restore them? Well... the only one I might succeed in such an endeavor on is myself. There's no-one I know better, after all..." Nor whom she had such in-depth "blueprints" of.
A third finger rose. "And lastly... there is the matter of repairing your sister's Noble Arm itself. In this, at least, I can say I actually have some experience... not the 'repairing' so much as the ability to alter a Noble Arm at all, but... it is a delicate and finicky process with much risk involved. And I still need to know what my final result should be." She tilted her head, a humorless smile on her lips. "I'm sure you can see how that might be an issue, yes? I've never personally met your sister. I don't know her like you. I don't have her... template to restore her from backup."
Snorting, Qingshe paused to down the rest of her tea in one gulp, before moving to pour herself a fresh steaming cup. "As usual, no matter how much I learn, I'm still lagging behind where it matters..." she muttered, before shaking her head and reforming her smile. Though, it didn't fully reach her eyes. "Ah... but the path of science is one without end, and everyone has to start somewhere. Someday, eh?" she mused aloud, before refocusing herself on the matter at hand.
"Of course," she chuckled, "if we were to find that there was a way to institute a process of... 'self-correction', that would remove much of the burden of our side of the restoration. In that case, all we would need to do is remove any grafted Noble Arm your sister might have and start the process, allowing her soul to gradually sort itself out..."
Pursing her lips, Qingshe's brows scrunched in thought. "Either way, we must successfully capture your sister before anything can be attempted. She did show the capacity to teleport through portals, which complicates matters, unfortunately, but... if we can get her inside my shadow... spacetime will not avail her in escaping."
"As for how we might be able to actually do any of that, even with only our present Noble Arms...?" Qingshe chuckled. "Why, we'd attempt to revert the Downward Descent's work with the same thing they used: Occult Programming Language." Having finally pivoted around to addressing a topic she'd expected would be fairly necessary at some point in this meeting, the Snake continued. "I'm not surprised you haven't heard of it. If anything, I'd be shocked if you had. It's a highly classified topic, kept deep in the dark by just about every organized entity large enough to comprehend and utilize it."
Leaning back in her chair, Qingshe cradled her teacup in both hands and took another sip, smiling wryly. "This may sound absurd, so I'd brace myself if I were you. I promise... as much as I wish I were joking, this is no laughing matter," the Snake warned, before forging forward without hesitation. "Occult Programming Language is, to put it bluntly, magic. Very real and very dangerous magic. There's really not a tamer way to say it."
Qingshe leaned forward, placing her cup back on its saucer with a quiet clink. "Occult Programming Language -or as it is most often abbreviated, 'OPL'- is the art of 'programming' -or perhaps hacking- reality itself. It is a freeform, intensely math-based magic that functions by means that have... unfortunate cosmological implications. It treats everything in reality as something based in a form of underlying 'code', which OPL can manipulate."
Qingshe's expression was deadly serious now. "I don't think I can understate how dangerous OPL actually is, just how much unfettered calamity can result from its careless use." Snorting, the Snake's mien was one of bitterness, like she'd swallowed something unpleasant. "As much as I normally abhor the denial of knowledge, this is one such matter where I can at least understand... not going out of one's way to spread it around. There is a very good reason those in the know keep OPL quiet... and jealously hoard any secrets they uncover in how to manipulate it."
The Snake paused for a moment, cocking her head silently, as if she was organizing her thoughts, before adopting a wry expression. "To put into perspective just how existentially dangerous Occult Programming Language truly is... I will finally say it plainly."
Qingshe grinned in a manner that was perhaps unsettling, as an old bout of ire resurfaced within in the same as it did whenever she revisited this absurd bit of history. "Noble Arms are quite simply the completely unintended result of the first successful, fumbled use of Occult Programming Language, the blind shot in the dark of an idiot savant that somehow managed to alter something so utterly fundamental to reality and Humanity as a whole that it would eventually create the world we have today."
Closing her eyes, Qingshe audibly inhaled in frustration. "For good or ill, that is the truth. Noble Arms... were nothing but an accident."
Upon more fully restoring her composure, Qingshe's eyes slipped into a half-lidded expression of distant derision... though not one directed at Cristina, merely a memory. "Noble Arms, in truth, are a form of OPL." Pursing her lips, Qingshe tapped the table with a finger rhythmically. "A... 'preset' form of manipulation, if you will. Freeform OPL is difficult for reasons I won't get into immediately, but for that reason, it is flexible, technically capable of doing anything but generally lagging behind in practice. Noble Arms, by contrast, generally shoulder the burden that makes OPL so difficult, allowing their user to make use of OPL far more easily than a general practitioner... without even really knowing how they are doing anything. As a result, Arms Masters are typically more powerful. They are 'masters of one' compared to 'jacks of all trades'."
Tilting her head, Qingshe chuffed. "Noble Arms are essentially glorified, premade 'casting focuses', only capable of accessing a set series of 'code' that is generally determined on their manifestation. But for all they are generally highly secure and finicky, they are still ultimately expressions of OPL, and because of that... Well, once someone finds a way to cross the threshold of OPL mastery that allows them to manipulate the forces that presently largely shape today's world order?"
Qingshe's expression darkened. "That's when forces like the Seven Virtues..." She sneered. "-The Paragons of Science..." Her lip curled in derision and disappointment. "-and the Downward Descent arise." There was a cold, distant chill in her voice, as she mentioned the last one, before taking a quiet calming breath and smiling once more. "Though they all achieved that pinnacle of understanding in recent years, their machinations can be felt throughout the world. Even this entire war..." the Snake trailed off, before shaking her head.
"Regardless, you understand then?" Qingshe inquired. "If you want to save your sister, more than any amount of personal development of your Noble Arm, you will almost certainly need Occult Programming Language to address what has taken hold of her."
Cristina wasn't sure on what to expect when she asked for the Serpent's help, the most vivid image she could think of was her being strapped to a surgery table like a patient in need of a surgery. The second image was her meditating some form of eldritch knowledge where a single moment of weakness will lead to insanity.
She didn't expect the knowledge to be weirdly comprehendible even if such comprehension shows how impossible saving her sister was.
And yet...
"It was still possible." she muttered, there was a path to save her, it won't be easy and she may die and fail but the path was there.
She owe her sister this much and more.
"I do know that she will go for my head, does that mean that I would to stick with you?" she asked. "Or hope that my own Noble Arm can impede her escape?"
She listened on Qingshe's explanation of the Occult Programming Language. She was right, it was an absurd concept and yet it would explain how these 'magical' items existed.
"Should I really know about this? What was your guarantee that I won't reveal this to the anyone."
She then looked at the table, this Occult Programming Language was a huge thing, so important that no one should knowledge about it.
"It was a lot but how exactly would you use that to make me stronger?"
Leaning back in her chair, Qingshe nodded with a small chuckle. "Not discouraged? Good.Excellent even. Such determination will serve you well going forward." She grinned widely, approvingly. "That sort of attitude is exactly the type that creates great Arms Masters. While one should always be mindful of the odds for the sake of avoiding recklessness and waste, when it comes to your ideal future, never let them stop you from trying."
She chuffed. "You can't succeed without doing at least that much, after all. The fact of the matter is that success is always possible, no matter how daunting the odds. The possibility is there... You just need the tools to make it happen."
Giving a hum of contemplation, Qingshe considered the younger Arms Master's other questions, folding one arm under her chest and cupping her chin with her free hand. "Of course, while I cannot deny that my presence is a fairly secure place to be, generally speaking," she smirked, "there's a chance that your sister, even in madness, at least retains enough of a survival instinct to avoid a confrontation with me." Snorting, the Snake grinned wryly. "While in the past, I went to... great pains to conceal the extent of my strength... until the time was right, those days of obscurity are admittedly long behind me... for better or worse."
Looking morbidly amused, Qingshe's expression was conflicted. "While I have yet to attain Mr. Makri's own particular brand of... popularity... at least in that respect, I hope it's not too bold of me to speculate the reasoning at least stems from my enemies' conception of my threat level... which was perhaps elucidated upon more clearly than ever in my battle with the Rooster." Shaking her head, the Snake clicked her tongue. "That is all to say that I quite suspect my presence will act as a deterrent, even accounting for your sister's twisted state."
Taking her cup, Qingshe hummed and downed another soothing sip of the brew within. "If your sister is to pursue this imagined feud of hers with you further, I predict she will at least attempt to exercise it in situations where she can be confident in absolute victory."
Qingshe frowned. "The Downward Descent are... generally speaking power-mad cowards. They -including your sister now- will likely wish to never invite a situation that makes them look or feel powerless. The only losses they will accept are ones they can somehow justify as being 'planned' by themselves beforehand. They laud nihilistic anarchy and the power of the individual, domination, the exercising of one's own whims above all else. The greatest insult they can suffer is to be forced to submit to the dominance of another absolutely and without recourse... well..." She snorted. "Aside from those that are 'into that shit', as they say..."
"But that aside," the Snake redirected, "your sister will probably try to corner you alone or with limited backup, and with the power to create long-range portals, she likely won't find it all that difficult." Tapping her lips with one finger, Qingshe hummed in thought. "Then, presuming in the worst case that you cannot avoid a fight whose circumstances are dictated by your opponent, your best option is to simply prepare for that eventuality... One where it is quite likely I will be unable to immediately aid you."
At Cristina's words of concern(?) -perhaps mild paranoia(?), Qingshe only chuckled, her gaze half-lidded. "My dear~, I didn't tell this to you with any expectation that you'd remain silent... at least not by any means of my doing." Leaning back in her chair, her lips quirked. "I'll leave it up to the best judgement of your survival instinct, neh~?"
Her tone was laced with amusement as much as warning. "I'm not saying not to share this with other members of the Task Force. My, if anything I'd almost encourage it, especially..." She paused and stared out the window, briefly frowning. "-if I am unable to tell them myself at some point." Golden eyes tracking back to Cristina, she huffed. "Still, always keep in mind, as things stand in the world, there are some very powerful people that are very interested in that information not reaching the public consciousness. If you spread it around too recklessly..." she trailed off leadingly, before shrugging.
"Well, not everyone is as difficult to 'disappear' as I am, after all..."
Qingshe let those words hang in the air ominously for a while, polishing off her cup of tea and pouring a new one in the interim. Finally, after perhaps too long a while, Qingshe chuckled, not a hint of tension left in her mien.
"But onto a more productive subject, I think..." Her golden gaze was half-lidded in contemplation, as the Snake lazily swirled the contents of her cup with one hand.
"How will Occult Programming Language make you stronger, you ask?" Qingshe loosed a chuff. "Ideally, not directly. Though I wouldn't call myself a novice in using it by any means, I am not unaware of its risks and limits."
Rubbing her chin with one finger, Qingshe hummed. "When it comes to granting you the strength to accomplish your goals, we should focus firstly on your capacity to actively improve your Noble Arm's abilities." Grinning now, Qingshe's hand dipped down from her chin underneath the table and returned with several sheets of paper and a pen. "To that end, I have prepared a series of questions for you, ones aimed to identify with certainty your Noble Arm's Value, Element and Growth type."
Placing the papers on the table, she tapped the stack, indicating several large, empty spaces with accompanying questionnaires. "For the sake of security, I ask that you write these things down, rather than explaining it all verbally. This part of the process will require we delve into the functions and limits of what your powers can presently do before we truly explore expanding them. And perhaps it is needless to say, but I quite imagine that in the case we were somehow being spied upon, this should make it a bit more difficult for compromising details about your capabilities to be learned by others."
Pausing, Qingshe chuckled. "Of course, if you desire truly absolute security, we could both dip into my shadow, but I don't think that's quite called for yet, eh?"
"And as for OPL, itself, as an asset in your quest?" Qingshe tilted her head. "Well, I can provide you two main options." She raised one finger. "Firstly, tools of restraint." Her shadow flowed up onto the table, expelling a collar-shaped device. "Like this, an implement to restrict the flow of OPL in a subject that wears it."
She snorted. "In short, it is a tool that could greatly weaken -if not outright seal- a wearer's Noble Arm. As a mercenary who travels around, I imagine you've never had the misfortune to encounter these personally, but some governments -provided they have the means- 'encourage' identified B and A-Rank Arms Masters to wear these out of 'concern for public safety' if they should be of a mind to shun military recruitment. Similarly, they are often used to keep dangerous prisoners manageable by the same entities."
Qingshe's tone was leading. "I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this... I could provide you a few devices of this nature, but it would be up to you to apply them. Of course, there's always the risk of them being used against you, but if ever you are granted the opportunity, these could make the difference in ensuring your sister doesn't evade capture before more secure means of containment are prepared."
Meanwhile, a second finger rose. "Secondly, if you think yourself inclined to the dedication to see the path through..." Qingshe paused, her lips quirking invitingly. "Then I would provide you the means to learn Occult Programming Language." Smirking, Qingshe leaned back in her chair. "Of course, knowing it exists only gets you so far, merely strips the curtain off the stage, but I would offer you the means to pluck the world's strings as well... all for the chance to rip your sister from the tendrils of the Downward Descent."
She let that sink in for a moment, before continuing. "Naturally, you might ask what guarantees I have that you wouldn't misuse that knowledge, and the truth is?" She chuckled. "None of worth. None but my own intuition. Call me reckless if you like, but I've got a good feeling about you, Miss Bernardino. And in the end... can I really call myself someone that leads by example if I don't show others how to follow me? What do I get out of teaching you?"
She paused then, allowing her expression to adopt an edge of forlornness. "I get a legacy... in some form or another. Of course, I would hardly leave such an arrangement exclusive if opportunity provided, but..." Her golden gaze rose to meet Cristina's eyes. "For all that I have learned, the secrets great and terrible I've uncovered, the wonders and horrors I am capable of... What does it matter in the end, unless I can ensure that my knowledge lives on beyond me?"
The Snake glanced out the window, her eyes tracing across the glimmering blue of the horizon, the vibrant ocean waves rippling in the distance. A smile crept across her lips, even as an old, cold fear trickled into her gut. "I've made many enemies in my lifetime... in the frighteningly short amount of time I've been an Arms Master. Looking back on it, in hindsight, it's... almost frightening how things have changed. I've made many sacrifices, more than my share of mistakes, but for all the bounty I've made off with, I can't help but worry it will all be for nought. I've done everything I can to reach the top, but I still can't help but wonder... When the devil comes to collect his due..."
Her gaze flicked back to Cristina. "-will it be enough?" Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "I've been thinking about it for a while... and I've been taking measures, looking for ways to ensure that if the worst should happen, my dream... and the treasure trove of knowledge that was bought at all too dear a price... will outlive me. To make a better world, even if I'm not there to see it."
After a moment, her eyes closed, and she chuckled, shaking her head. "But listen to me ramble on..." She smirked. "I apologize. This is about you, not me, so please excuse my digression." A small laugh escaped the Snake. "Sometimes, I've got more thoughts than I know what to do with, and a few extra slip out."
Tapping the stack of papers on the table, she grinned. "First thing's first. We focus on this and address the most practical means of strengthening you with any immediacy. Beyond that...?" She shrugged. "The offer is on the table. No more. No less. So, don't feel pressured to answer me now. There will be other days, and my door is always open."
In the comfort of her own mind, Cristina felt relieved that she is likely to personally deal with her sister, it was little bit selfish but she still wants to be the one face her. She wants to face her and not run away like a coward.
She just hopes that her sister wasn't into the latter, it would raise some uncomfortable questions.
Cristina raised an eyebrow, she expected her to eventually leak it? That everything is up to her?
"You are too different than what I expected, or maybe you are the same but I'm just knowing why." she laughed as she asked for a refill.
She just sigh as she looked at the stacks of papers, it was more closer on what she expected albeit in a scale she didn't see coming.
Cristina nodded at Qingshe's words, she made a point of taking safer missions perhaps if she had been more daring.
"I could use some of that, if I got overpowered, me having that or not won't change a thing. My teleportation was short ranged after all."
As for Qingshe's second offer, it was a large step probably the largest she would take in her life.
But she had no time for hesitation, it is either she do it now or she wouldn't do it.
"I accept your offer, do whatever it takes to make me stronger.
I can take it." She immediately took the stack of papers and begin answering.
Qingshe's lips quirked into a smile, as she refilled Cristina's cup obligingly. "Different? Yes, I suppose I would be a bit... if all you'd ever heard about me came from curated propaganda... be it positive or negative." Shaking her head, she gave a small laugh. "Although, while some get it all wrong... others barely scratch the surface in how all too right they are..." Whether that was positive or negative... she didn't elaborate.
Returning to the matter of the OPL restraints, Qingshe nodded. "I will provide you a few then. If you have a preferred format or ideas for what shape they should take for best implementation, please don't hesitate to raise the matter." She smirked. "Really, the worst I can do is shoot an idea down, but it never hurts to consider your options." Giving a small hum and waggle of her fingers. "The collar is the most secure generally, of course, but it's more easily identified. I can certainly make it fairly easy to conceal, but once you whip it out, I'm sure your sister might have some conception of what you're attempting... Food for thought."
At Cristina's unhesitating acceptance, Qingshe cocked a single brow highly and then grinned widely, chuckling, as her shadow bubbled atop the table and with a static-like crackle deposited an inch-thick book atop the surface with a pitch-black cover and raised, golden text across the front cover, reading: "Collective High Codic Conversion - A Primer to Occult Programming Language, by Lei Qingshe".
"This," the Snake replied, "will be your gateway into the art, and this-" She flicked one hand closed, a puddle of her humming ooze suddenly bubbling up from beneath her fingers, before she opened her palm to reveal a black USB-drive with glowing green lines crawling down the sides as per usual of Qingshe's cyberpunk aesthetic. "-will be your alternative." The ooze disappeared from her hand, as she held the drive out to Cristina. "Should your physical copy be stolen." She smirked cheekily. "I wouldn't worry too much about the digital copy being stolen. I've packed some... fairly nasty surprises into this little cutie for those that dabble in unauthorized access."
"I give these to you as aids for self-learning, but I will find whatever free time I can to tutor you personally." Chuckling, she added, "And even if I don't necessarily find time for us alone, I do consider myself quite the accomplished multitasker when needs must. Rest assured, you will not lack for my input should you have questions." Grinning, her fingers flicked in a show of sleight of hand, and a card slid across the table. "My personal contact details, to more easily keep in touch."
That said, Qingshe lapsed into quiet, avoiding giving Cristina distractions from filling out the stack of questionnaires. If ever she had questions or need of clarification, only then did Qingshe speak up, otherwise keeping to herself until there was nothing left to cover.
The forms themselves, if not for the context of the situation, might have read as much like a personality test as any actual power analysis. The questions covered a fairly wide spectrum and often touched upon moral quandaries and other if/then situational inquiries. Much of this, according to Qingshe, was meant-
"-to narrow down your most defining characteristics as a person... particularly those with a high chance of being what your Noble Arm "values" most in a User, the defining trait upon which hangs the crux of the reason it chose to appear in your hands."
Other questions, aside from the actual capabilities of her Noble Arm (in as fine detail as she could manage) included what she thought was her weapon's "element".
"Noble Arms typically have a centralized... Hmm, I don't know if you play video games, but I suppose 'skill tree' wouldn't be a poor comparison. It's under the umbrella of whatever theme your Noble Arm is rooted in that largely determines what sort of abilities it's most likely to develop."
And lastly...
"Based on what I've seen of the field reports, I already have some suspicions, but I won't openly speculate yet. Even so, we should confirm for sure what manner of Growth your Noble Arm is inclined to. Generally speaking, Noble Arms fall under 'breadth' or 'depth'. To use the skill tree comparison again, a depth type invests all their power into a singular tree or specialty... or perhaps specific series of 'programs', as it were. By doing so, they become a 'master of one' and are vastly more powerful in their area of expertise... This type, in my experience, breeds higher -if not top- tier Noble Arms on average. Conversely, breadth-types do not typically constrain themselves to a single skill tree. They branch out to others and gain a certain level of unpredictability to them, a flexibility under which radically opposite elements can coexist. They are jacks of many trades... and accordingly, they cannot approach the greatness of a specialist in any of them. And then, there's the fairly common middle ground type..."
All in all, reading between the lines, the Snake seemed rather... excited to have someone to actually say all this to. If one didn't know any better, they might think she was a bit pent up. Though she seemingly made an effort to keep herself on-task, once she got going, the words and knowledge flowed like water from her. For every question, she seemed to have both an actual answer and at least a couple speculations to share as a bonus.
"Then give me the strongest variant." Cristina answered before giving the idea a few more thought. "Can also make something into the form of a extendable handcuff, in the off chance I could catch her off guard." she added.
Cristina took a look at the book and the hard drive, here it is the secret that everyone will kill for to know literally in the palm of her hands. "I will make sure that it won't ever happen in the first place." she promised.
She also took the card and add her number on her phone, to confuse anyone who will try to get access into it she didn't use Qingshe's name or serpent on the number.
No one in the right mind will call her Linlin, she's pretty sure of that.
The questionnaire however proves to be little tougher than she expected until she realized that the only way to answer it was through sheer instinct and honestly.
My Noble Arm, I think it values my resolve specifically the resolve to keep finding my sister. I cannot think of any other trait.
As for element, it would be Space as most of my abilities themed around making use of portals to move around or limit my enemies. Weirdly enough, I felt that it was an incomplete descriptor. Mainly because it doesn't explain my ability to create orbs of fire, normally I would think of it as a bizarre off-shoot but given everything I hear now, it could likely as huge of a part of my space abilities, considering I recently learned how to light Sinagtala on the fire of said orbs.
As for last question...
Most of the time, it was 'depth' considering that my 'abilities' are derived from other abilities but...
My trump card, Mirage Space seems to have the ability to induce my growth through 'breadth' considering that being inside it grants me the power to fly, shoot sword beams and even teleport as long as I'm inside.
After answering the questions, she passed the paper to Qingshe.
Come to think of it, she never went to an actual school. That would mean that Qingshe is her first teacher.
That was weird, but it wasn't that bad.
She smiled a little as Qingshe was checking her papers.
Chuckling, Qingshe nodded at the custom request for the restraint. “Well… as long as you’re confident in your aim~.” Smirking, she nodded again and made a note, as somewhere deep in her shadow, her power processed and went about churning out an answer to the request. “I’ll provide you a collar and a pair of bracers with a detachable set of chain-links. Individually, they should be able to greatly weaken a wearer, and all together…”
She frowned and hummed in thought. “Well, they should probably be capable of rendering your sister incapable of doing much other than summoning her Noble Arm. Given how powerful her portal-making Noble Arm appears to be, I doubt it will do more than that, and if she has more than one Noble Arm now… it might be even less effective, being that there will be approximately twice as much energy that needs to be suppressed.”
Shaking her head, Qingshe smiled reassuringly. “Be cautious is all I am saying. Even if she appears to be completely at your mercy… don’t count her out. A single slip-up could mean her escape.”
She chuckled at Cristina’s promise and simply smiled in wait while the space-manipulator added the Snake’s number to her phone contacts. She continued to wait patiently while the forms were filled out and then received and reviewed them quietly, making small noises of acknowledgement.
Once she was done taking it all in and letting the details percolate, Qingshe nodded and set the papers down into a navy-blue binder she produced for that purpose, closing it and securing the contents from any prying eyes.
“On the matter of your Noble Arms’ value… I would speculate it has little to nothing to with your sister. Such a thing would be… how shall I say this… too specific?” She shook her head. “Not that it’s impossible per-say, but the ‘value’ of a Noble Arm is usually far more general. For example, the Love of Family as a whole wouldn’t be unexpected… but something relating to a specific individual?”
She frowned. “Now, that would be very unlucky in a long-term sense. Let us hope the actuality is far more practical, like general Resolve or Determination. Those would be more reliable. Still… whatever the case, given that you wield a natural Noble Arm, I’m sure any Value it has will be well-suited to your desires.”
“As for your Element… Hmm… Space makes sense, and as it does, I’m inclined to wonder about some of your conclusions. There’s your flight, which sounds less like a separate tree delve and more like you are simply altering your position in space… which has some interesting implications. Similarly, your “homing” shots are most likely warping space to course correct. Your teleportation? Also space warping, of course. I am curious about the explosive orbs, but I have to wonder if space warping isn’t somehow responsible for them as well, perhaps by combusting matter with compression? Of course, we should test this, but…”
Qingshe paused, and a glimmer entered her eyes. “Alternatively, these ‘fire orbs’ might be an expression of ‘Space’ in the galactic sense; that is, it could be an element drawn from the concept of stars shooting through space. If that is the case, it means your Element is one with a generous interpretation indeed~.”
Leaning back in her chair, Qingshe giggled merrily, a grin on her lips. “And assuming that either of my suppositions are correct, I would indeed classify your [Sinagtala] as a Depth-type, if not a Composite-type.” Humming, she tilted her head in thought. “The best way to confirm one way or the other though… Well, we’ll need to test just how much of your powers are actually, in fact, entirely centered around your so-called ‘trump card’. If I’m not incorrect, then I suspect that everything you do is actually drawn from that as the root ability, which you are only able to exercise to its fullest in a limited capacity. And if we were to pursue full mastery of that aspect, well…”
Chuckling again, Qingshe’s golden eyes glimmered with anticipation, a wide smile on her face.
“…I’m truly excited to find out what would happen.”
Cristina quickly took the collar and the bracers, she would need to adjust her pants to keep these items on her. A pouch or something will solve the storage issue.
She grimaced at Qingshe's words about her sister. She got it wrong? But she cannot think of any other words that felt right?
Hopefully it won't be a problem right?
"It might a very generous interpretation." she agreed noting how she acquired the Noble Arm.
[If searching for her sister meanings finding a needle in a star-filled night, then she will find her or die trying.
She clenched her fist as she listen to to her teacher's explanation, she could see her vision and it makes her excited for some reason.
For once, she felt like she was actually closing the gap.
"When will we start?" she asked.
Seeing Cristina’s grimace, Qingshe smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t be disheartened. Even if we cannot identify your Noble Arm’s precise Value, just being true to yourself is often enough to align with it regardless.” She chuckled. “Speaking of, the very reason identifying your weapon’s Value is important is that the more your actions and desires align with that Valued Trait, the more easily your Noble Arm will be inclined to develop and improve your abilities.”
Leaning back in her chair, Qingshe sighed. “In a sense, your Value is a measure of your core self, and your Noble Arm recognizes that. It was made to fulfill that attribute. Therefore, you are rewarded for essentially… simply being you, really and truly, not allowing yourself to be fettered by restraints or the opinions of others. Arms Masters are, in a sense, empowered by doing whatever the hell they truly like, growing more powerful than their peers… which, as you might imagine, then conversely contributes to the reputation of powerful Arms Masters being unstable or forces of anarchy and disorder.” She snorted. “Which then creates fear that encourages others to try and regulate them harder, only for them to buckle back harder in return… A vicious cycle.”
Shaking her head, the Snake grinned wryly. “But I digress.” She chuckled at Cristina’s question. “When shall we start? Hah, well, though I expect we shan’t have much time for this leave, what with the diplomatic event encroaching so soon… If we want to make progress in a timeframe enough to be relevant…”
She grinned widely. “…When better than now~?”
“My God,” Callie pronounced to the empty room. Her portal had closed a few seconds ago; no danger of any complications now.
That’s about right… Spindle’s thought, tinged with uncharacteristic shock, echoed across her own. She’d tugged at the thread in her mind just about as soon as she’d managed to return to the barracks she’d found. The things she had been hearing at the time seemed important.
“I –” Callie took a breath, closed her eyes, let the wave of fatigue from keeping distant space connected for so long wash over her as she recentered herself. The biggest societal shift since industrialization was an accident caused by one guy playing with eldritch physics. Sure. Yep. That’s not disturbing.
Listening in on Qingshe and Cristina’s conversation hadn’t been especially difficult. Mischief Reef’s wide open sands and utilitarian grid layout made for some long sightlines; she’d been able to introduce herself eloquently to the young Emperor (Difficult to get a read – that theatricality both very clearly is and very clearly isn’t a mask…) over the course of a few minutes while comfortably keeping half an eye on the departing figures (and compartmentalizing the base part of herself that floated somewhere between maximizing the opportunity to appreciate one of them and being stunned by said appreciation). After politely excusing herself (“I think I’ll take a walk, get a sense of the place – yes, I saw it on the news a couple of times when I was younger, it looks so much better now the QRS has made it into a home and a haven as much as a base… Oh, no, thank you so much for offering, your Majesty, but I like getting to know somewhere by experiencing it myself, you know?), it had been similarly trivial for her to follow the pair at a distance of several hundred meters, relying on her usual combination of experience, over-tuned instinct and Charter’s vision to keep a bead on them while remaining beyond notice.
All that preparation had been in aid of a single portal, less than a centimeter wide, placed on the wall of the tread of Cristina’s left boot – barely visible even if you could get the angle to see it and only audible on the other side from the rush of blood through the inside of Callie’s ear. Granted, feeling the throb of the air in that ear each time the boot hammered on the ground hadn’t made for a pleasant jog back to the barrack block – nor had the guilt she’d felt over entirely violating Cristina’s personal boundaries, if she was being honest – but the intel had been…
Well. ‘worth it’ was perhaps the wrong way of looking at things.
‘earth-shattering’ might be a better fit.
So magic runs on code and Charter is a glorified programme. I mean, sure, but… Why tools of war? Are people just that prone to violence? I mean… Callie furrowed her brow. Then she sat up, blinking. Wait – how does all of this square with the whole ‘human potential’ aspect? Either humans are just innately, metaphysically special or he rewrote the codebase of the universe to treat them as special, and Hell would either of those be something! Sure, the ‘NA proves the soul’ argument’s been done to death on every NA forum and chatroom but… Did people even have souls before the 1940s? God… She covered her mouth, holding in a disbelieving laugh. Not that that concept means much anymore if one man could have changed humanity’s foundational metaphysics by accident!
Callie did laugh, now; the sound in the empty room and the whirl of her mind covered Spindle’s silence. By accident… And, if what she said was right, it’s a wonder that it hasn’t happened again. Or maybe it has! Maybe the stories of wizards and magic swords are true and every one is a precursor to this! And as more people find out, the likelihood of a rogue actor or an idealist doing something like it again grows… Her mind stopped dead. That amount of power being apparently in reach of those who could tap into OPL… Suddenly, granting magical powers almost at random to individuals dotted across the world seemed positively benign. If, instead of building something new within the universe’s nature, that first great act had been to undermine it…
The higher-ups have to know about all of this, right? Callie asked suddenly. They have to. I know we’ve got – I mean, I don’t know but we have to have people embedded in the Big Three, even if we didn’t know before then, right? If… For the second time in a minute, her mind screeched to a halt. If they had that kind of power, there was the potential to rewrite geopolitics in a truly literal sense. Would the CIA not use that power? Would not every organization in the world that got its hands on it? But they clearly haven’t, they clearly haven’t, so what’s going on? What made that first act special? Callie shook her head. And –
Augur.Spindle. Their thoughts clear and controlled.I’ve just received a directive from the very top of command. You’ve done well to secure the information you did and you will be briefed on its implications. Was that a hint of dread? Would have made sense, given what they’d both heard… For now, you’re exhausted from using your Noble Arm for such a period of time – you need to sleep, to recover so that you will be at maximum effectiveness for Obsidian’s next deployment.
I… She felt it, the growing weight of her shoulders, the fuzziness in her mind even as her thought jabbed at it, some new revelation waiting to pierce through. You aren’t wrong… I just don’t know how well I’ll be able to rest with so much –
Sleep.
Tiredness crashed over her. Sure, sure… Sluggish, weighty, Callie clambered onto the bunk. Her head dropped back against the pillow; her eyes fell shut.
As she slipped away, the last thing she felt in the midst of the haze was a thread pulling in her mind.
Henri was packing, as he heard the news through the Radio. "So, the second coming of Roosevelt decided to try his hands at foreign affairs"
Not that Henri really cared for what the POTUS was planning. Someone else might have been hopeful that the rest of the world would receive a piece of American reforms, but Henri knew better. The USA simply wanted to secure again their position in world politics they had been losing as of late. And even if their thoughts were more altruistic, a politician rarely was skilled beyond their specialty, if they were skilled at all.
But enough about politics. Henri needed to consider all the equipment he'd need in Cambodia. Besides the regular military gear, Henri needed to iron his formal suit. It was likely he'd be guarding some VIPs in Phnom Penh, and that would mean black suits, ties and sunglasses.
The whole job was exhausting enough that once Henri was finished, he needed a shower. The refreshing water admittedly helped to strengthen his spirit again. After drying, grooming and dressing, Henri looked at himself in the mirror.
"How did that saying go again" He pondered. "Oh, right. He's tanned, rested and ready for action"
With that, Henri took his suitcases and prepared to join the others.
Lounging on a black and green chair of her own making that was furnished with sinfully comfortable cushions, Qingshe was in a good mood, as she sipped a sweet, cherry-red beverage from a wineglass. In fact, one might even say the Snake was in a better mood than she'd been all year, as she idly swirling the contents of her cup between sips while listening to the briefing being presented by First Lieutenant Alonso.
A lazy smile sat upon her lips, a languid, satiated thing, and golden-green slitted eyes occasionally traced across the crowd that comprised Task Force Obsidian. Her smile widened at the sight of the newcomers, as idle curiosity over what fascinating Noble Arms they might bring to the table swirled through her thoughts. Amusement bubbled within her at the one called "Aoi Mikoto". For senses like hers, it wasn't hard to notice the hostility she felt for the Snake. The sensation of having a silent glare boring into the back of your neck... Ah~, it was like being home again~.
Really, there were quite a few reasons to be happy right now. ASEAN's major leak had -at least ostensibly- been plugged, and while Qingshe really thought the Danggal Clan got off far too lightly for their treason, she acknowledged the certain level of hypocrisy in that stance coming from her. Didn't mean she actually trusted them not to start trouble again later, but for now, she could be satisfied that they were sufficiently cowed and surveilled such that any further disruptions on their end would be noticed and/or swifty dealt with... with far more permanence this time.
In far more unequivocally positive news, however, America's Congressional Midterm results and the impending entry of the United States into the ASEAN theater proper spoke well for the future of the war's conclusion. The mercurial nature of American politics had its ups and downs, but it seemed in this case, things were finally about to go ASEAN's way fully for a change. Already, the mere implications of this inevitable titan entering the field had shifted the priorities of involved parties. And the biggest proof of it all was the now scheduled diplomatic summit and the willingness for the PRC to even entertain it. Some had reasonably raised concerns, but...
"I'm willing to be cautiously optimistic," Qingshe added her two cents to the discourse, grinning widely and shooting a wink to Cristina, who she'd made a point of parking herself beside in seating arrangements. "At this stage in the war, the PRC have few diplomatic cards left in their corner. If even a speck of rationality remains with them, then the idea of attacking this summit should be anathema, purely from any form of forward-thinking perspective."
Honestly, more than anything else, it was the sheer delight~ of having a student again that buoyed her mood so high right now. The past week had been nothing short of invigorating for her, a true callback and something she'd not realized she was missing so much in her present situation. The satisfaction she received from having someone to pass knowledge on to in a meaningful manner was second to none, and Cristina -to her credit- was an earnest and excellent learner. It really said something about her talent how far she'd managed to come in only a week of tutelage.
Proud showman that she was, Qingshe naturally enjoyed tooting her own horn, and so she wouldn't entirely dismiss her own excellence as a teacher. But in the end, the true burden of improvement lay with the student, and Miss Bernardino had shown tangible results in not just improving her Noble Arm but -far more impressively- demonstrating even the basics of Occult Programming Language. What made it all the more appalling and impressive in equal measure was learning that Cristina had never had any formal schooling before the Snake. That she could still grasp such a thing as OPL even then? Extremely impressive. Qingshe was almost tempted to say "genuinely genius", but she didn't want to jump the gun so early. Only time would tell if that supposed talent held true long-term...
Letting out a wry sigh, Qingshe's mouth quirked. "Then again, 'rationality' and the PRC haven't been close bedfellows for a while now, certainly not since they joined hands with the Downward Descent." There was no point in concealing that fact. It wasn't like Superbia had been anything subtle in his attack on Nico. Pretty much everyone in the Task Force had to know by now about the newest global faction to add the unbelievably unlucky Mr. Makri to their personal shit-list. "So, I wouldn't blame anyone for taking precautions... nor generally harboring doubts of the integrity of this venture." Shaking her head, Qingshe clicked her tongue, before smirking and taking another languid sip of her beverage. "Under normal circumstances, I might say the presence of Arms Masters at such an event would be an inflammatory, dangerous thing... but no-one can trust the risk of a rogue actor striking while they are vulnerable, nor that their fellows won't bring their own insurance. Ergo, everyone feels compelled to not risk being the only one 'unarmed' if the worst should happen, and the whole thing becomes a messy western standoff regardless."
Reclining back in her chair and resting her cheek on the knuckles of her free hand, the Snake chuckled. "Of course, even if this looks too good to be true, even if this is all a hoax, the chance that it isn't is too tantalizing to ignore, isn't it? That's the rub of it all. It's bait too good to not bite, and if this is a trap... well, they'll know that as well as we do." Her gaze traced over the assembled members of Task Force Obsidian, her smile growing a touch cold. "Whatever else they might be scheming, one thing is almost certain, the summit is the ideal chance for the PRC to make a diplomatic coup. With the public revelation of Ai Chen's crimes, people are going to be leveling more scrutiny upon them. Before all else, if this is organized with any sort of eye towards China's future, their priority in this summit will be damage control. Shifting blame."
She giggled darkly. "They can't deny the existence of Ai Chen's proven crimes, nor the recorded actions of other malicious actors amongst them. However, they can still feign ignorance, condemn the likes of Ai Chen and claim she was a rogue actor with lacking oversight. They can make empty promises that nonetheless sound convincing, and they will almost certainly do everything in their power to individualize the sins of accusations levied against them. The more they can avoid the PRC as a whole being held responsible for the actions of a select few, the better." At least, that's almost certainly what she would do in their place. Tactically, it just made sense. Admit nothing, deflect and counterstrike. "Let's assume this is legitimate for a moment. If so, then the PRC will be looking to buy time and put their best foot forward."
She snorted. "Let us be unfortunately brutally realistic: in this era of media sensationalism, the public's attention span is short. A truce of several months serves the PRC's interests as well. It will give them time for the public outrage to die down and for them to fully quell any public upset on the home front. By the time this 'truce period' is over, the American public at least will have largely fallen back into their apathetic overseas stupor, and their cries for justice and war will be but a whisper. The PRC is unlikely to stop committing war crimes... They will simply be more careful about hiding them. Still..." She hummed, one finger tapping her wineglass with a quiet tinkling sound. "For this to truly all blow over, the PRC would need to overwrite the public's outrage with a newer, fresher target, so unless Russia decides to do something particularly... sensational soon, there's a good chance of the PRC being unable to shake this. They need a scapegoat and lack for convincing ones... but that doesn't mean they won't be looking."
She was grinning, but there was a glint of seriousness in her eyes. "This is going to be a delicate political situation. It cannot be overstated how important it is to not be seen to 'strike first' should anything... untoward occur. So, dress to impress and bring your best manners, even if Huo Ren himself should stand in front of you. Our actions will reflect on ASEAN and the security of their position at the bargaining table, and if you're feeling trigger happy... Don't. In an ideal world, all we're there for is to look pretty and -at worst- loom with vague menace while the politics happen. Violating a national diplomatic truce would be a disaster for us... Rather, for anyone who is going to be at that table." Shaking her head, she smirked. "Really, this is the sort of thing that shouldn't need to be said, but I realize that not all of you here today may come from backgrounds sufficient to grant you a complete understanding of the stakes at hand... So, I say it anyway."
Early mornings were nothing new for Nico Makri. All it took was a cup of cold water and a bit of fruit for him to be relatively prepared for the briefing. His foot was mostly healed, he had a rare six hours of sleep, and he successfully nipped whatever Alonso was going for in the bud without any noticeable problems. For once, things are fully looking up. And this mission doesn’t seem all that awful. Nico smiled a bit despite himself, humming a nursery rhyme as the briefing took place.
“Glad I brought a suit...” All he was hoping for was a peaceful day, at least in the beginning. If someone pulled something after that, it would be a problem for everyone, not just himself. The thought brought a bit of surety to him as everyone started piping up. All he could pray for was some sanity from the PRC and Zodiac, even as a pipe dream.
I can’t wait to leave.
Odd thoughts, considering that the ghost known as Aoi Mikoto had only been on Mischief Reef for a few days. But after going through the routine of walking the base, checking the ceilings and walls for any leaks, and getting rearmed, there wasn’t much to do except find a new haunt for the few days before deployment. Despite knowing what would be polite, she made an effort to keep scarce before the briefing. The less people expected her to be present, the more likely she wouldn’t be asked to be seen, and the easier her job became.
An early briefing was welcome, even if it was a little boring. She arrived early and sat in the far back, taking the extra time to grab a mug of scalding tea to let cool off during the wait. As the briefing progressed, Aoi took note of the other members of the Task Force: from the locals, mercenaries like Makri, Lidmann, Rocha and Berto (Note to self, stay aware of Williams and Lidmann, learn some more about Rocha, and keep away from Makri), the other transfers like, Nil, Janssens, and…
There simply no avoiding the strand of thought that led to her. To say that she disliked the Snake was a severe understatement. Aoi tapped her fingers on her lap to calm herself down, listening as Qingshe spoke up about the potential obstacles and pitfalls of the current theater: a diplomacy event in Cambodia. Everything about the mission was almost laughably strange. This group, for security and safety? At least Williams has the right idea; this is absurd.
She was grinning, but there was a glint of seriousness in her eyes. "This is going to be a delicate political situation. It cannot be overstated how important it is to not be seen to 'strike first' should anything... untoward occur. So, dress to impress and bring your best manners, even if Huo Ren himself should stand in front of you. Our actions will reflect on ASEAN and the security of their position at the bargaining table, and if you're feeling trigger happy... Don't. In an ideal world, all we're there for is to look pretty and -at worst- loom with vague menace while the politics happen. Violating a national diplomatic truce would be a disaster for us... Rather, for anyone who is going to be at that table." Shaking her head, she smirked. "Really, this is the sort of thing that shouldn't need to be said, but I realize that not all of you here today may come from backgrounds sufficient to grant you a complete understanding of the stakes at hand... So, I say it anyway."
As the Snake finished, Aoi got up, and cleared her throat to get Noel’s attention, looking him in the eye with a softly haunting gaze. Filipino should work. Only a few people need to understand me anyways. “First Lieutenant, if I may state the obvious, this is a ploy. There are three things we know for certain. First, Downward Descent has been reported in, and allegedly has yet to leave Cambodia. Second…” She pointed a thumb at Qingshe.
“Like she said, China and Downward Descent are clearly connected in some way. So, there is no reason not to assume that the location is already either compromised or being watched by the Downward Descent. And finally, thanks to him…” She motioned to Nico. “We know that there’s no prerogative for either party to be subtle, as the People’s Republic can simply use the Downward Descent as a perfect scapegoat for any events that may transpire.” Her Filipino wasn’t exactly perfect, but her accent hardly showed in her speech.
“A delicate situation such as this cannot be viewed in a vacuum. So, I suggest that you and Rear Admiral Abasolo take my concerns into consideration alongside any potential plans or stratagems that you may have prepared.” And with that, she sat down, her eyes never leaving Noel and Qingshe from view.
The meeting was about to begin, and the venue was set.
Koh Pich, or Diamond Island, used to be a swamp. But now, thanks to Chinese investment from before the ASEAN War, it was a piece of luxurious real estate, the pinnacle of high living even in these war-torn times. Dotted with skyscrapers, restaurants, villas and parks, it was a playground for the rich and well-connected, a hive of diplomacy, business, and the trade of information both legal and illegal. And it was there, in the artificial wonderland built by the Chinese in better times, that Task Force Obsidian and the ASEAN Delegates they were guarding were going to meet with the Chinese ambassadors.
To the north of Diamond Island was the Diamond Island Convention and Exhibition Center, where the meeting between the ASEAN delegates and the People's Republic of China's ambassadors was being set. A rectangular building defined by copious use of beige-colored concrete, mixing influences from traditional Khmer architecture and the Western style of building walls and gatehouses, the exterior of the structure, now decorated with the flags of the various ASEAN countries and China, was meant to look prestigious enough to host a high-level meeting of this importance.
The entrance hall was a long, but wide, chamber with lines of square-ish pillars on each side, and lit by bright fluorescent lights even in the middle of the day. This open space was meticulously polished, the ceiling, floor, and columns a near-uniform shade of beige that slightly muted the onlookers' reflections. There was little place to hide from the camera flashes and roaring voices of the media personnel allowed inside to witness this high-level diplomatic meeting nor from the members of the Cambodian gendarmerie that provided security for the building itself.
Right now, Task Force Obsidian was tasked with making sure the meeting did not go awry, and that meant that First Lieutenant Noel Alonso had to repeat some of his orders, which in turn included answers to Roberto's questions two or so days ago, answers he was already sure he had given but had to repeat once they were in the building.
"We are site security, but our task is also to make sure that if things do go badly, that we can protect, then buy time, for the ASEAN delegates to evacuate either to the International Airport to the west, or to the districts to the east, or downstream to where our navies can evacuate them. This does not mean we're expendable, but we are going to hope that China intends no treachery... Which reminds me."
Noel then looked at the rest of the Task Force, saying, "We are meeting the Zodiac and not trying to kill them right away, with the assumption that they are not trying to kill or kidnap us. I want you all to be on our best behavior, even when confronting that simp Dragon Huo Ren -"
Footsteps could be heard, high-class leather boots tapping on polished tilework, each noise a demand for attention, for glory to be showered on the man who was walking towards them - It was Huo Ren, accompanied by a young man of Noel's age whose haunted eyes shifted from side to side, and a tall blonde, one who wore a golden military uniform that stole Huo Ren's spotlight; surprisingly, Huo Ren himself did not mind.
Huo Ren then introduced his friend with, "Greetings; this is Yulian Suburov, the Chainbringer. Russia lent him out to us and away from their side due to a... disagreement between its government and him over cultural issues, namely attitudes towards carnal activities between men. Otherwise, he has been very good at corralling entire groups for 'relocation' and individuals for... 're-education'."
Qingshe, as well as anyone with sensory-based Noble Arms, could see something odd about Yulian, namely the immense power the man had in his body, and how his body seemed to be made of energy. This mystery was cleared up when the man walked over to Noel and casually dropped, "I'm an Avatar of Superbia. One of many."
Yulian then whirled away from the group, then said as he walked away, "And this time, the Sun and Moon won't be up at the same hour; remember that, Nico Makri."
Now, Huo Ren and his aide were left alone to face the outrage of the rest of Task Force Obsidian... And maybe Huo Ren's own Zodiac members.
Marta's eyes tracked Yulian's departure carefully until he turned a corner and left her field of view.
"Well... it seems you keep very interesting company."
Her thoughts were more along the lines of "Wicked, Pompous Douchebag" - she'd seen enough of the PLA's camps to experience little but contempt for the idea - but it seemed like poor diplomacy to exchange barbs at this early stage, especially after she'd just gotten her habit dry-cleaned. Instead, she made an innocent gesture by placing a hand over her face.
"I was also surprised by the willingness of your delegation to make such bold statements in this time and place."
It would be even worse if Huo Ren and his toadies got used to making verbal shows of force and thinly veiled threats. Marta at least had more faith in the members of Task Force Obsidian... she kept close to Nil especially, however. Not that the young woman clearly couldn't take care of herself, but it might mean trouble if someone tried to take advantage of her relative lack of social graces. The nun kept her constantly within reach in case she had to be pulled from some unintended faux pas.
