[IC] Iris Ascendis

[AThousandCurses]

His attacks were clean and quick. The strikes cut clean and true, yet despite the inflicted injuries the boy didn't crumble. An answer immediately was supplied into his mind. Magic. What type of magic was beyond him, but it was clear that it prevented him from crumbling. Just as Chunji reached to his opponent's blindspot, his opponent turned just in time to retaliate. Chunji exhaled and strike true to his intent. The blade met flesh and a fist was met into his chest. A sharp pain and Chunji was sent skidding back. The soles of his shoes screeching until he finally came to a stop.

That attack was a long stronger than he had anticipated. He removed the grip from one of his hands formed a variety of hand signs before pressing it against his chest. "龙雨洗刷苦难的罪孽." While not exactly flashy, Chunji felt the pain alleviate from his chest. How insufficient. For the first time emotion graced the stoic face. A frown that expressed frustration. Though that quickly faded when he looked back up to his opponent. It didn't matter now. While mediocre, it was sufficient for the current situation. What he had to do now was plan his next action.

Whatever technique or magic his opponent did made him ignore the weight of injuries. No doubt his hamstring was cut, which made it a abnormal on how he was still standing. Was it some sort of body enhancement? The shield thrown earlier had decent weight, but it cracked against the boy's fist. Regardless, it'd take a lot more resources to defeat the enemy in front of him. Something that Chunji didn't want to use early on.

While the boy seemed impervious to lethal wounds, his body still ran on blood. If he cut more injuries onto the body eventually he'd collapse. The only thing Chunji needed to do that was to expend a little more energy on speed. He was initially caught offguard because the boy didn't finally immediately, but he wouldn't fall for it again. However, this came with the drawback of not knowing what else his opponent could do. If he pulled out another trick, then both sides would incur injuries again.

There was another option. Running away. With how everything was position, he could easily run down the bridge and make inside the building. From there he'd use his Ethos to locate the auditorium and find his seat. However that was idealistic. Even if he did run away, it didn't solve the problem of having to fight the boy throughout the building. Not only would he have to focus on running, he'd still have to deal with his opponent. It did not help that there was some sort of commotion happening behind him.

Then there was that. In one quick movement, Chunji jump backed from the battle. Before Chloe could react, he knocked with a quick kick to the head. With the all the injuries she had sustained (having a dagger thrown into her back, getting hit by rays of light, getting hit several times from what Chunji assumed was where her brain stem was, and finally crashing down into the bridge,) there was a high chance she would be out for a while. Her Ethos wasn't something Chunji didn't concern himself with. To begin with, Ethos required conscious effort to stay active. If she was knocked out then her aging ethos would be canceled out. His foot and shoe might have to sacrificed, but it couldn't be helped.

Standing next to the elf's body, Chunji lowered his sword to her neck. For the first time he spoke. "Forfeit and cancel your Ethos." The implication of what he would do as clear as his cuts. If the he made a move, or Chloe, Chunji would make sure to inflict fatal damage to the girl's body. Perhaps this was dishonorable, but that word wasn't in Chunji's vocabulary. The only thing he had to concern himself with was the success of his current objective. Get into the auditorium.

[Psyker Landshark]

Iraleth Kyrios

Iraleth's disappointment only grew as Chloe fell to her first assault. That was all it took? Truly? The fact that so many prospective students hadn't gotten past her was a poor sign. She could have defeated Chloe without resorting to invoking her Ethos. Her bolts of light had deliberately not been enhanced with the Inheritor's power, and even on foot, Iraleth wouldn't have allowed Chloe to get into grappling range given what she knew of the prissy bitch's Ethos.

The knight spared a glance over to Chloe's seeming companion, but decided against engaging him for the moment. While he was almost certainly complicit in the girl's deeds, the fact remained that he hadn't inflicted too much harm on everyone around him. The problem itself was taken care of for the moment. She still had to get back to finding the auditorium. Iraleth turned, and flew back from whence she came.

With the benefit of flight, Iraleth arrived back at the plaza just in time to see a horde of mannequins bearing kitchen implements, of all things, charging at a lone girl. Time to even the odds, then. She descended at full speed, her shield braced in front of her. The Inheritor's armor divebombed into the midst of the horde, knocking several mannequins flat before Iraleth rose from her crouch, her sword and shield a flash of steel as she started to tear through the wave of animated dolls.

"Provide support, or find us the route to the auditorium!" Iraleth barked behind her towards Hildegunde, several rays of light crashing down from the sky to try to thin the crowd out further. "Either or, I care not!"

@Sifr

[Estylwen]

Ciara Ventura

Wingram Academy, Walkway and Main Building
@Nanaya @ERode

---

Hatred.
Scorn.
Grudges.

She felt the eyes of the nannies of the orphanage, tightened and cold. She felt the hands that threw her out of her home, the wind hitting her face as the door slammed shut. She felt... the Hunger. Always.

For once, the Voices remained silent in the face of new hatred, unsure whether to take comfort in it, or fear it. For Ciara, she lost her breath as a layer on knowledge was added to her perception of the janitor. No one was as they seemed, not even him. Maybe... as essence approached essence, she could finally be understood, as her understanding of the janitor deepened.

"I'll see ya around, kiddo. Hope you're one of the good ones. It'd be nice if ya were."

Ciara hesitated at the door, staring, her eyes unfocused, dread settling in her stomach. The knight, flying through the sky, and Ciara's insatiable Hunger. She had wanted to taste the good one's essence as badly as she needed to breathe.

Ciara's head bent, her frame slightly stiffening.

"... I hope so too." She murmured, before pulling the door wide, and diving into the main building.

The 'receptionist' caught her eye instantly. A cold, unseeing stare. Around the corner of the hallways she could see new forms of mannequins creeping up, slowly closing the distance from across the foyer, overcoats billowing with every movement.

"Came to the wrong school, fool. Turn back now and the Mannekin given to me will not destroy you so mercilessly! I'm a merciful god, so I'd rather not have to thrash you, you see."

She scoffed, eyes searching the walls and corners of the foyer for the source of the loudspeaker and subsequent hidden eyes the voice may have been using. Her hands slowly inched to the daggers on her hips as she took a cautious step back, lowering her stance a bit.

"From the sound of your voice... you're another student, yes? There's enough seats for everyone, why cause trouble?" She said, eyes watching the ominous mannequins edging closer.

Slowly, her shadow shifted, darkness creeping down her arms and coating the blades of her unsheathed daggers, extending the tips into a type of shadow blade hybrid.

Her eyes narrowed, addressing the mannequins directly. "Come on, then."

As if on cue, they all rushed her at once, one leaping over the receptionist desk and the others crossing the foyer in mere seconds. As the first bat swung for her head, Ciara stepped back, and was consumed by shadow. A half second later, she reappeared from the shadows behind them, swiping with her dagger. One looked almost surprised before toppling over, cut clean in half.

She took a breath and swiped again, stepping to the side on nimble feet as two mannequins swung at her again with their bats. She could feel the wind whistling as she narrowly dodged, burying her blade into another mannequin and dislocating its arm from its body. Her feet moved in circles, almost appearing as a dance as she weaved between bats.

She took another breath, and disappeared in her shadow. As nimble as she was, one wrong move and she would be down on the floor, out cold. She daren't tempt fate. She reappeared again further down the right hallway, leaving the rest of the mannequins in the foyer as she sprinted, hoping to to get as much of a head start as possible before they would catch up again. She kept an eye out for a map or directory of the main building, having a strong feeling she was, indeed, in the right place.

And, most importantly, she willfully pulled on the telepathic link between her and the dark one. She packed as much information into it as possible, similar like if she was handing her new friend a piece of paper with vividly punctuated data. A snapshot visual of the red building with its golden plaque, "Main Building." A second snapshot of her pounding footsteps through the hallways of said building, looking over her shoulder at the very threatening mannequins with their bats.

She hadn't seen the auditorium with her own eyes yet. But she trusted Michael. So, she went on a limb, and tried to follow up with a simple message.

But, in that moment, her mind and her thoughts became paralyzed.

[Sifr]

@Psyker Landshark @Nanaya

Well, that was easy.

While she wastes no breath on Chloe, Hildegunde does take the energy to flip the frilly half-elf off as she dashes off. Good fucking riddance. She silently congratulates herself for making it through so far unscathed, and gives thanks to Iraleth's interference, even if it still boggled her mind. Her internal celebration comes to a quick halt, however, upon coming face to face with the wave of mannequins. The huntress scans her surroundings; where's the most easily accessible high ground? Is there anyone else nearby, or is it safe to use her ethos? After a quick assessment of her surroundings and options, Hildegunde puts her hand to the trigger...

...And Iraleth crashes down from the sky.

She swears under her breathe. What is her deal? So much for her ethos. She has no attachment to the woman, of course, but compared to the violent or panicking masses, she'd like to keep her around. It's not that she's not thankful, of course, but she could've shot the lady. And she's still hoping to make it through the day without seriously hurting anyone. Or god forbid, killing someone.

"You have wings, you find the route!" Hildegunde barks back, sounding a lot less appreciative than she is. In honesty, she wants to chew Iraleth out for being an idiot. Why is she jeopardizing her spot? Why did she land in front of someone with a rifle? But now is not the time. Without summoning her ethos, she turns so that Iraleth is not in her way, and begins to shoot at mannequin after mannequin, trying to keep a good distance between herself and them. While she doesn't have the pinpoint, surefire accuracy she would have with her ethos, and she will eventually need to reload without its usage, her aim is still alarmingly good.

"Don't slow down for me, stupid!"

[Nanaya]

@AThousandCurses

BRIDGE

"Tsk. So it's like that, huh," Rio would spit out, a hateful glare shot towards Chunji as his hands sunk into his pockets. "Made a promise. Can't let that girl die." His brow would furrow as he looked upon Chloe's bruised, burned, unconscious body with - for a moment as brief as a flash of lightning, such that only Chunji would catch it in all his focus - a slight softness, or perhaps regret. With a final push, his golden giant repelled a final wave of attackers behind them, his shields shoving them onto the ground before retreating back towards Rio.

"Yeah, alright then. Have it your way. Hand her over and we'll all call it even. No point in staying here any longer anyway," he'd reluctantly agree as the giant slowly seemed to shrink and merge into his back. "There's no need to go all-out on our first day, after all."

On Chunji's part, the front half of the shoe that kicked Chloe would have faded into dust, but the girl was most definitely out cold. Over the course of the conversation with Rio, would Chunji look around, he'd see smoke seeping out of the mouths of those that the pruner elf had aged; by the end of the conversation and as Rio's giant faded away, the students that were aged seemed to revert to their prior selves - with the one difference that they seemed to each fall unconscious from the violent and sudden shift in physique. The notable exceptions would be Chunji's shoe and the dagger he had thrown, which were not repaired. Priority of some students was dedicated to retrieving these downed students, while others began to stampede forward.

Rio, meanwhile, would look at his wristwatch, then show it to Chunji as well while maintaining distance. "9:30. The time remaining isn't ideal, and I don't have anything against you, so let's leave the fighting at that for today. My idiot friend and I won't interfere with you, and you won't interfere with us now that there's a fire under all of our asses. Sound good, knife thrower?"

Should Chunji accept, Rio would retrieve Chloe's unconscious body and begin carrying her across the bridge, making a mad dash to get ahead of the angry students wanting revenge for being repelled by his Ethos. Other students would quickly follow behind, rushing desperately to get off this bridge of disaster. Up ahead, however, they would see flames spreading quickly from the campus side, causing some to doubt their advance upon seeing yet another wall against progress.

The voice of the woman from earlier would ring out from further within the campus, echoing for all to hear. "Attention, all students. The time is now 9:30 AM on March 1st of the Sacred Record. It's recommended, though not required, that all students find their seat in the auditorium with all haste. I do, of course, say it's not required because there's always a comfy bed waiting for you back home - wherever that is, of course, because we certainly wouldn't care enough to confirm. That is all!"

---

@Sifr@Psyker Landshark

PLAZA

Wooden chunks scattered clear across the plaza in all directions - the Mannekin seemed easily replaceable and cheap to mass produce judging by the waves that ran out one after another, but a challenge for any warrior more competent than a farmer they were not. They were barraged by the combined attacks of the new duo that took charge in the heart of the plaza, completely ineffective and unable to even get within striking range. That was until one of the new waves found a different Mannekin at the back.

As the other dozen wooden warriors sprinted out of the many doors from the cluster of red buildings beyond the fountain, a Mannekin dressed in flowing purple robes with a wooden staff and a comically stereotypical conical wizard hat would strut out. It would raise its staff, and a ball of flame would shoot outward from the tip, hurtling towards Hildegunde at the speed of an arrow. Whether it hit her or not, it would explode at the location that Hildegunde was standing at the time of casting, sending smaller splashes of fire in all directions outward for three meters, partially setting fire to the wooden bridge.

The fire would spread quickly, its magical nature clearly enhancing its potential for destruction, and within seconds the foot of the bridge by the plaza would become wreathed in fire. The bridge itself wasn't damaged by this, but the fire spread all the same. Should either of the duo attempt to attack the wizard, they would find the wall of Mannekin suddenly move with supernatural speeds to take the hits for their wizard commander, as if pre-programmed to do so.

The voice of the woman from earlier would ring out from further within the campus, echoing for all to hear. "Attention, all students. The time is now 9:30 AM on March 1st of the Sacred Record. It's recommended, though not required, that all students find their seat in the auditorium with all haste. I do, of course, say it's not required because there's always a comfy bed waiting for you back home - wherever that is, of course, because we certainly wouldn't care enough to confirm. That is all!"

---

@ERode

TOWN

"Ah?!" The only thing Otis would hear at first was shock at the request. Davil's face was one of uncertainty and deep thought as they ran, clearly not fully sold on the idea. It was definitely a tough thing, giving up his pride and joy, an aspect of himself that was unarguably his. It was definitely a difficult deal to take, Davil fully aware of the risks involved of depriving himself of his greatest strength-

"Okay, sure! You seem like a good guy, so I don't mind. Oh, such chums we are! I'm real glad I met you, Otey! Otes McGoats! I'm just plum jazzed at my good luck right now," the boy would exclaim with glee, a mouth of pearly whites in full view as he gave Otis a thumbs up and a chuckle of goodwill. "My mum always told me it'd be easy to make friends once I just showed people what I can do, and now here we are, best of buds!"

As the dynamic duo ran, they would find themselves at the end of the street they had entered from via the walkway, and now found themselves in what resembled a town square very reminiscent of Neroite architecture. There were market stalls set up with Mannekin manning them, a podium near the center, and various buildings denoting different roles such as "Inn," "Blacksmith," "Clinic," and even a merchant guild branch that seemed to still be under construction. Though smaller than the average town, it definitely had the homely feel of a hub for ambitious adventurers.

Many paths seemed to split from here, undoubtedly leading to other parts of the academy city, but two locations would stick out immediately: on one side, a path directly ahead that led up a rugged dirt incline, into what appeared to be a forested region with an imposing tower in the distance mostly obscured by trees. On the other side, a red building immediately to Otis' left as he'd enter this town square, with a plaque labeled "Main Building" above the door.

"Hmmm," Davil would ponder aloud as he took it all in. "They have a clinic here?! That's really cool!" In the end, that was the full extent of his external thoughts as he took this area in.

Should Otis try for the door to the main building, the Mannekin would suddenly burst out of the market stalls they were resting inside with crossbows in their hands, firing at the pair with the intent to disable.

The voice of the woman from earlier would ring out from further within the campus, echoing for all to hear. "Attention, all students. The time is now 9:30 AM on March 1st of the Sacred Record. It's recommended, though not required, that all students find their seat in the auditorium with all haste. I do, of course, say it's not required because there's always a comfy bed waiting for you back home - wherever that is, of course, because we certainly wouldn't care enough to confirm. That is all!"

---

@Estylwen

MAIN BUILDING

Upon searching for any signs of her unknown attacker, she would take note, occasionally, of small eyeballs partially melded with corners and ceilings. They would vanish the moment they were spotted, withdrawing into the walls out of sight, but if she looked diligently enough, she would always see more as she moved. "Correct, I am but a humble student. You could say, though, that I've been given a special privilege in this... weeding out process. This divine culling. Something beyond simply arriving on time."

As she moved and dismantled the mannequins, she could hear low growls of frustration coming through that same loudspeaker, though she couldn't find a direct source through which the sound was coming. "I took the time to consult Ezzy about the best outfits to dress them in, and everything! It was my peace of resistance, or something. How could you do that?!"

With a deep exhale and a few meditative chants over the phantom speaker, the temper in the boy's voice calmed. "Fine, fine, you defeated some of my grunts. Pat yourself on the back. But you're not ready. Not for the terror ahead."

Ciara would find signs and boards along her travel that would definitely be where directories would normally be, but they all appeared crudely ripped out. In the midst of all of this, handing out the information, she could fortunately feel that it was being understood just as quickly as it was being received. Repetitive pulses of essence from within indicated comprehension and acknowledgement, and it all certainly made sense logically.

However, a crushing sensation would wash over Ciara in the moment in which she finished her snapshots. It almost felt as if she was being grabbed and lifted by her head by an incomprehensibly massive clawed hand, the stench of macabre curses filling the area around her. A low-yet-high voice would whisper near her ear in that moment, raspy and off-key. "Time will progress apace, and as I am time, I decide when to move. You forget yourself. Perhaps a thoughtful begging will see you with more fortunate results."

The hostile essence would dissipate in an instant afterwards, leaving Ciara again free to move. More bat-wielding Mannekin would be swiftly closing in behind her now, and the speaker with that nasally boy's voice would once more crackle to life. "Yikes, essence rebound or something? Don't worry, we all fail now and again, that's just a part of life. You can always apply next year. Gives time for some of the real heroes to get their rightful head start, heheheh. Mannekin! Thrash her mercifully!"

Upon that command, the Mannekin at the front with a pompadour wig would suddenly speed up with a faint trail of lightning behind it, and would perform an acrobatic front flip, aiming to bring its lightning-infused bat down upon Ciara. If she successfully dodged, the bat would create a crater in the ground of the hallway, sending a small arc of lightning outward and shards of rubble in her direction.

The voice of the woman from earlier would ring out from further within the campus, echoing for all to hear. "Attention, all students. The time is now 9:30 AM on March 1st of the Sacred Record. It's recommended, though not required, that all students find their seat in the auditorium with all haste. I do, of course, say it's not required because there's always a comfy bed waiting for you back home - wherever that is, of course, because we certainly wouldn't care enough to confirm. That is all!"

[ERode]

_{@Nanaya@Estylwen}

They weren’t the best of buds, but Otis wasn’t a stranger to one-sided relationships.

It was impressive, in a sense, that Wingram Academy had constructed a facsimile of a small town, one not dissimilar to the college towns that made up Rekordia’s academic core. The leanings of the shops and buildings that presented themselves were a touch sterile in how bland and straightforward their names were, and the place itself was still a ghost town when all things were to be considered, and yet all that could be explained away with a simple statement: there would be nervous students and roving Mannekins. The civilians who would operate such stores and facilities were undoubtedly not present, in order to allow for such a violent entrance ceremony to occur.

And, just as his gaze settled upon a door labelled ‘Main Building’, his connection with his partner on the other side tightened. One thought, confirming both physically and spatially the veracity of the auditorium. The second thought, confirming that whatever awaited them inside was going to be a fair bit more combative than the lot of them were prepared for. The third, underlined with urgency.

The fourth, manifesting from his own thought?

Mannekins rushed out from market stalls, crossbows pointed towards the duo before they could even enter the Main Building.

“Show me wonders of this world.”

Crossbow bolts embedded themselves into the back of a wooden door as Otis turned the brass knob and pulled it open to reveal a world of illuminated darkness, of stars and planets craft from prototypes and materials. Where a dozen weather patterns co-existed within the astral plane, where islands of marble upheld workbenches laden with texts and instruments.

He strode on in, sparing a backwards glance to Davil. If the lad feared the dark, that was all there was to it, but if he followed through, joining the Strigidae in this expanded domain, where a mortal’s whims became divine decree? Blades of all sorts would be pulled from their resting places amongst the stars and orbit the youth, a veritable armory of an inventory’s whimsy. Springloaded cane-swords designed to perfectly ricochet back into the hands of their wields. Massive greatswords with a hollowed-out middle that would resonate like a tuning fork upon impact. Chainsaw katanas that belched out grease and smoke at the touch of a button. Bladeless hilts that would spring out a hardlight edge with but a firm grasp of their handles.

“Pick one. Figure out their utility in ten seconds. You’ll be playing hero for a girl, so don’t mess up your debut, Davil.” A furrowing of his brow. “And my name is Otis. Awe-tis. Get it right, or I’m sending you an invoice after this.”

With those words, he continued down a path, each step upon the void replaced by blocks of marble. There were doors in that hallway. There will be more doors too, with a spell to expand the utility of his telepathy spell. All he had to do then, was pick the correct exit.

The entrance disappeared. The exit appeared.

His hand rested upon a silver handle, ending his sojourn in his world.

…

A door to Ciara’s left swung open. If her gaze turned, she’d see first the barrel of a familiar gun and second a void that drew away to reveal a regular room.

Third on that list though?

Otis’s hand, fanning the hammer of his revolver as he emptied five explosive bullets into the Mannekins closest to her, his words drowned out by the roar of essence-amplified gunpowder, but his intentions clear: he had arrived, and they would see through the last stretch together.

Well, no, maybe it wasn't so clear, because upon recognizing his folly, Otis repeated his message.

"Capture one of those things! If they're just magic-based constructs, I can reverse-engineer their signalling and take control!"

[Estylwen]

Ciara Ventura

Wingram Academy, Main Building
@Nanaya @ERode

---

"I've been given a special privilege in this... weeding out process. This divine culling."

The resistance this academy gave really was on purpose. But why? Why did they only want a few select Ethos?

Her expression darkened as she spotted the eyes watching her, keeping pace as she ran through the hallways. Was that how this student was keeping tabs on her?

All hints of the auditorium's location were destroyed. Maps, directories. Hastily torn away. It was either this student's doing, or some of the teachers who were heavily interested in causing more difficulty than they initially intended.

She felt a positive response while sending out an SOS on her telepathic link, her feet hitting the floor at a rapid pace. But, before she could get the full message out, something grabbed ahold of her. Her entire body froze up, and instead of turning the corner, she smashed into the wall of the hallway, a surprised whimper escaping her gritted teeth.

The dread set in instantly, her blood running cold as a new Voice spoke, either inside or outside of her head, she couldn't tell. She only knew blinding fear. The air was heavy with blood-curdling darkness. She couldn't see the hallway or the approaching Mannekins. She could only feel the claws digging into her skull.

"Time will progress apace, and as I am time, I decide when to move. You forget yourself. Perhaps a thoughtful begging will see you with more fortunate results."

"P-please don't kill me-" Was all she managed to think before she was released, her thin frame trembling, supporting herself against the wall as she tried to regain her breath.

The voice over the loudspeaker pulled her out of her existential dread just in time to see the glossy wig-wearing Mannekin sailing through the air, the space between them charged with static. She hissed, snapping back just in time, the bat catching the curls of her hair as it missed its mark by a hair's breadth.

The ground shook, tossing Ciara back as she took the full brunt of the shockwave. She landed roughly, rolling to a stop on the floor, body twitching as lighting sparked over her body. The air was charged with singed hair and dust. She coughed weakly, trying to drag herself off the floor. She could hear footsteps. A bat scraping the floor as the lead Mannekin drew closer, others close behind.

"I'm hungry." Came the child-like Voice, whining. It echoed her thoughts, feeling the ache in her stomach. It was more pronounced in this moment. It always was when she was in pain. Her entire body was covered in bruises. Her mind still felt sore. It hurt.

"I'm... hungry." She thought again, half-raised off the floor, squinting up at the Mannekin towering over her, raising the bat for a final strike.

"I'm... HUNGRY!" She cried out, her shadow reacting faster than the bat could be swung. Tentacles sprung at the leader Mannekin like a python, constricting around its torso and limbs, wrapping tighter as she gritted her teeth. Her eyes darted to the other approaching Mannekin, and another tentacle sprung forward, knocking them off their feet with a heavy blow.

Ciara stood, drawing the Mannekin closer to her. There was a maroon gleam in her eye, her expression darkening. She was so Hungry it hurt. Everything hurt. Her prey, squirming in front of her, was full of essence. Delicious essence. More so than the limp grass in her satchel. She wanted it... needed it...

She brought the Mannekin face level, tentacles squeezing tight enough that she heard a pop somewhere in its 'spine,' and the Mannekin went limp. Drool escaped the edge of her mouth as she leaned forward, preparing to consume it, to breathe its essence in.

Before cracks of thunder echoed behind her head.

She blinked out of a near-drunken daze, alerted to the sound of another Mannekin toppling over. Ciara looked over, finding the dark one with his pistol raised, entering the hallway from what appeared to be a classroom. He had shot down the Mannekins that had tried to jump her unaware as she was, well, fully engrossed at the prospect of Eating.

"It interrupted-" The Voice whined, recognizing her new friend, yet torn at the prospect of nearly being satisfied.

"It saved us." She thought, coming back into her senses a bit more.

Self-conscious. Hasily, she wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth, offering her friend a prize: the leader of the Mannekins, wrapped tightly in shadowy tentacles.

"It can't move. I think I snapped something in its torso. Do what you want with it."

Her eyes glanced at her friend's companion, the boy with winged boots. She recognized him from before. She stared curiously, noting he only seemed slightly banged up, before swatting at a Mannekin trying to attack him from behind. Her tentacle retracted, eyes veering to the Mannekin that was now sailing towards the far wall.

"It... looks kind of delicious." Said the Voice, watching the winged boot boy with interest.

"It... does..." She thought, eyeing the boy curiously, her face a blank. She painfully remembered she had been interrupted before Eating the Mannekin of its essence, and was still somewhat Hungry.

But...

"Attention, all students. The time is now 9:30 AM on March 1st of the Sacred Record..."

She glanced at the dark one, a serious expression in her eye, trying to swallow the Hunger gnawing at her chest.

They had other problems.

[Psyker Landshark]

Iraleth Kyrios

"I'm so very sorry for thinking to help you!" Iraleth snapped back at her newfound partner, her sword cleaving through two mannequins in one swing before she slammed her shield into another, sending it crashing into a nearby wall. The sudden appearance of a dozen more mannequins almost covered up the only important one: the mage. She cursed under her breath as the fireball shot out too quickly for her to intervene, the explosion masking what had actually happened to the other girl.

Almost as bad was the sudden announcement that half their alloted time had elapsed. Already? Damnation. Iraleth's Ethos was draining her stamina slowly but surely. At the rate she was going, she'd likely be able to keep it manifested for the second half hour, but no more for the rest of the day. If she and the other students were fortunate, there would be no further trials from here on for the rest of the day. If they weren't...well, she'd power through. Ethos or no Ethos.

First things first. That one had to go, no matter what.

"If you're still able to fight, I'm advancing." Iraleth called out behind her. "Do as you will, if you so disdain my aid."

With a mighty roar, Iraleth shrugged off the remaining mannequins mobbing her, shoving them aside to and fro before spreading her wings of light and dashing straight towards the caster. Her charge didn't stop as she ran it through on the Inheritor's oversized blade, continuing to glide through the plaza and beyond it even as she lifted her shield in her other hand to bash the magic mannequin off of her blade and to the side like roadkill.

@Sifr

[AThousandCurses]

To Rio, Chunji merely moved away from the elf once he had Rio's confirmation. No words were given to exchange with those that came Rio. All Chunji did was turn around and dash towards the enflamed entrance by the time Rio started talking. As Rio had said before only thirty-minutes remained before the deadline. Chunji was going to be the one to miss it. While the fires seemed intimidating to most of the crowd, Chunji had no such fears found within him.

"透过现象看本质!" His pupils started to dilate and shift. Now, Chunji was seeing into a different world. The flickers of the fire that danced were mesmerizing. It was hard to determine where would they move and where would burn. In the world Chunji was seeing, Chunji focused on the flames. Find an opening and exploit it. At the first flicker of an opening, Chunji threw himself through the gap. His clothes were singed and his unprotected foot grazed the flames. Just barely making at the end, Chunji found himself rolling on the ground to put out the flames, sword still in hand. He looked up.

His eyes shifted targets.

Iraleth would soon find mannequins that attempted to prevent her from getting to mage disarmed in the literal sense. Chunji weaved by through the wooden mannequins and cut down those who tried to obstruct him. His eyes were now focused on the internal workings of the wooden automatons. While his opponents were humanoid, they lacked the blood and bone of one. His knowledge in magic was also lacking, but he was aware that even cutting their head might not disable them.

So, he looked into them with his ethos. If there was a core that controlled the puppets, he would have stabbed through eacn and one of them. Regardless, these puppets had the ability to move which meant he could still cut through the joints. A flash of iron cut through as Chunji made his way to kill the puppet mage in the back.

@Psyker Landshark @Sifr

[Sifr]

"No disdain! I'm just sayi-!"

The fireball was not an issue. The following explosion, however, would be. Hildegunde yelps as the blast knocks her off her feet, pain searing her side as she slides across the floor, cheek scraped. She grimaces, getting back to her feet as quickly as possible, bashing a mannequin that she had gotten too close to with her rifle. Distance. She needs distance. So preoccupied with her need to make distance and the stress of the engulfing flames that the announcement is white noise to her. She backs away from the crowd, eyes scanning for an exit, before locking onto Iraleth and the mage. Why is she like that.

Mannequins came to intercept the incoming attacks, and some primal part of her brain was screaming to get out of the flames. Would they even fall with the mage? Even if it didn't, she couldn't allow more damage. Never in a million years did she think now of all times is when she'd evoke her ethos. But if the whole place goes down in flames because she didn't, it'll be one more weight on her shoulders.

Besides, she supposes she owes Iraleth. And with her and Chunji so close to the mage, there's no other way for her to make a safe shot without risking blowing off one of their heads instead.

She inhales, briefly wondering if this is a mistake, without giving herself time to dwell on it. Mage. Head.

"Freikugeln."

The cackle of gunfire follows her whisper.

[Nanaya]

@Sifr@Psyker Landshark@AThousandCurses

PLAZA

Upon Iraleth's charge, rending foe after foe hurling themselves in her path to block the wizard, she would find her blade meeting a barrier, the casting Mannekin conjuring a field of defensive essence around itself to halt her charge. This clash would persist for a moment, before a thundering boom would ring out across the plaza from behind Iraleth and Chunji. In the next moment following this hair-raising jolt, a small hole in the barrier was made apparent, alongside a new hole through the wizard's head that was not present before. In that exact instant, the barrier all at once shattered like glass, the brief moment of lost concentration giving Iraleth all that she needed to break through. The wizard was run through and smashed aside by Iraleth's might, tumbling away in pieces, landing among the remains of its brethren as nothing but a torso, head and arm.

Chunji, meanwhile, would see small stones radiating essence inside the chest cavity of these wooden warriors - a clear sign of the target to aim for in order to most efficiently incapacitate them. Cuts to their joints would hinder and slow them, but Chunji would notice an immediate limpness upon a Mannekin's chest stone being run through; yet, for a brief moment, he would notice one key difference from the wizard Mannekin before him, now cast aside and tossed to the ground in a heap: it had no such stone.

The broken wizard slowly levitated just above the ground, its body seeming to catch fire as it raised its staff towards Iraleth from behind, a ball of flame twice the size of the last now gathering. "iT'S... nOt... oVeR..." In a muffled, distant voice, as if trying to speak underwater, it would grunt these words with the most emotion that an emotionless doll could perhaps muster. In the moment in which these flames were conjured, Chunji's vision would see something forming inside its chest cavity - a stone that seemed to light itself aflame while forming.

Out of nowhere, however, the flames dispersed all at once. The rock inside its chest burned to ash, and the wizard was now a smoldering pile on the ground. The fireball it conjured shot into the sky, where it exploded safely out of reach, but clearly exploding in all directions by dozens of meters. Embers slowly rained upon the plaza, giving the area an almost sunset afterglow.

Students began navigating around the spreading flames around the bridge, and by the time that the wave of warriors led by the fallen wizard was vanquished, dozens of students were now flooding the plaza and dispersing in all directions in a desperate dash for the auditorium. There appeared to be three main paths for those in the plaza: the cluster of red buildings that these mannequin had emerged from, and walkways to both their left and right that seemed to lead to other areas of the campus.

---

@Estylwen@ERode

MAIN BUILDING

"Got it, Otty, but I don't think we need to be using our invoices right now. We're not in a library, after all, hehe," Davil would exclaim with an enthusiastic salute as he followed Otis through his dimension. Gawking at each and every item on display as they walked, with various 'oooh' and 'ahhh' noises emitting from his awed mouth, he straightened himself up upon hearing that he'd be playing hero. With a huge gulp of anxiety clearing down the lad's throat, his saucer eyes looked upon Otis with sudden nerves. "W-Well, if you say so... right! Then I guess I'll do it like that!"

He marched over and grabbed the chainsaw katana with both hands, nodding. "It's just like the Shoguknights from Western Rotid... this is badass, dude, seriously! Oh wooooow~! Squeeee!" Davil would continue this fanboying as he swung it around a few times with various 'kachaaa' or 'whishhhhh' noises, before running to keep up with Otis, following him through a door to the unknown. "Time for another adventure with my good buddy Otis! The Otster!" With a half-stumble outside, Davil followed Otis into the hallway, sword in hand, and yet there was not even a single enemy within range to swing at - him disappointedly noting the already fallen Mannekin at the hands of Otis' revolver. "O-Oh, yeah, that's fine too I guess."

Were Otis to study the Mannekin, he would find it rather trivial to override its prior controls and become its new master. Having seemingly been crushed into a state of inactivity moments prior, it would prove far easier than if it were still active and moving in defiance. That being said, it would not move very well in its current state without additional repairs to its body. Meanwhile, more Mannekin took to the halls, rushing after them.

Meanwhile, Davil was simply petrified for a brief moment, not even processing the Mannekin descending upon him before being smacked away by shadows - instead looking at Ciara with a small blush. He'd lean in and whisper to Otis, "Otty, you didn't say it was going to be a pretty girl, downright divine, and now I don't know how to perform...! What do I even do?!"

Shuffling his feet, he greeted Ciara with a wave. "Hi, I'm Davil! My deal is that I'm the guy who's gonna save us, so don't worry, your troubles are all over now!" With that, he'd rush forward towards the next group of bat-swinging Mannekin, including another one wearing a pompadour at the back of the new wave, crackling with lightning. At any point, should Ciara look upon Davil's aura to gauge its 'taste', she would be met with the sight of overwhelming darkness swirling about the boy. Unlike many people who had a fairly even balance of light and dark within them, by her Ethos' estimate on things, it seemed as if Davil's 'balance' was shifted entirely towards negativity and shadow.

"It was something like... thiiiiiis!" With the push of a button, grease shot out of the katana Davil was holding, the revving of the chainsaw growing louder, thundering throughout the corridor. However, in a moment of either great misfortune or immeasurable stupidity, the grease shot onto the ground in front of him, tripping him up as the sword fell freely out of his hands. His body flailed as he performed a backflip, landing on his head onto the grease pile while the chain-katana skidded out of control across the hall like a spinning top, chopping off the feet of the first Mannekin at the front of the pack. Slathered in grease, Davil hurriedly clawed his way back towards Otis and Ciara, panic in his eyes. "Help, please, I'm not a hero, I lied! It was all a joke! A glorious jest! I'm just chums with Otty and nothing more, I sweeeeear! Help meeee!" While these pleading cries went on, the Mannekin would be closing in fast.

To add insult to injury, in the midst of all this, the snobby voice of the boy from earlier would crackle over the invisible speaker near the trio. "Ouch, wipeout. There's no way this is your help, right? I mean, that would just be downright sad. Real men don't need to rely on Rekordian tech to solve their woes, you know. Real men can conquer the world with nothing but their mind. Men like me. Heh."

[AThousandCurses]

So, that was what the working of the mannequins were like. Chunji took note of this as he withdrew his sword from a now immobile wood doll and looked over towards the mage. Well, the former mage. After it had been hit by a bullet and beaten down by the charge of the winged knight, it crumbled down onto the ground. It struggled to get up, as if it were human, the stone that operated the mannequins appearing within to cast one last spell. The wishes wouldn't be granted as it fell back down lifeless, the magic that sustained the movement of the mannequins cracking and ceasing to exist.

Chunji eye's lingered on the broken doll, before turning towards the pathways. They were all swarming the entrances similarly to what happened at the bridge, but now they were relatively doing in a 'peaceful' way. Peaceful as in chaotically trying to push each other to get through the entrances. How inconvenient. Chunji took a glance around and shifted to the building. His ethos enabled to observe all parts of an object. The sections of a building were no different from a skeleton and a bone. Chunji used his ethos to identify which room was the auditorium and which path was the quickest.

From what he understood what an auditorium was, it was mostly a big space with chairs lined up for many personnel to sit down on. There was also a stage at the end of the room.

Upon locating the area that fit the description and memorizing the path, Chunji deactivated his ethos. Now all he needed to do was get there. The problem being was how. Before he was disabling people left and right since it was chaotic, but now everyone seemed to form a truce amongst each other and head into the auditorium. Though the answer was right in front of him.

Walking up to Iraleth, he extended his hand out to the taller knight. "Fly me to the auditorium. I know the general layout of the building and I will restore your strength." The words sounded commanding, but the tone behind them lacked any emotion behind it. A mixture of monotone and disinterest could be heard in his words. As he waited for Iraleth's response, Chunji tried to formulate the correct incantation for his spell. Sheep was the correct spirit for the incantation, if he believed. It was a spirit of gentleness and calm and a symbol of rejuvenation from rest. He would use that spirit as the basis of his next spell if Iraleth came to accept.

@Psyker Landshark@Sifr

[ERode]

_{@Nanaya@Estylwen}

Otis, however, ignored Davil’s pleas and the puppeteer’s taunts. He had at least somewhat expected the former to bungle things up, going by previous examples, and he was well-accustomed to the sorts of words spewed from the oral cavity of the latter. Conquering the world with nothing but their mind? The folly of someone who knew nothing and created nothing. Technology was an extension of the will of humankind, the clearest indication of how one can take the principles that govern the world and twist it to suit their needs. The towers that scraped the skies were not craft from some benchwarming nincompoop thinking about them. They were built with bodies well-experienced in the craft of masonry.

Huh.

Otis’s head twisted in thought. He had overthought it. The puppeteer had only spoken about conquest, spoken about it like a pirate or a thief, incapable of production, in which case yes, a mind may be enough to do so. That, at least, was fair.

Leaving Ciara to answer Davil’s cries, the Strigidae himself got to work pulling apart the Mannekin before him. It was just a torso after the shadowy evisceration that had been delivered upon it, but the core components remained. Internal gears to generate physical power, with your standard Essence-conversion rune to convert atmospheric magic into kinetic force. A two-stage transformation process, alongside spherical gears inscribed to the shoulder and hip joints that would receive commands from the command web to operate parts of their body. This particular Mannekin featured a three-set gear system too, allowing it to manipulate its limbs at differing speeds for differing purposes. It wasn’t an ingenious design, but it possessed both utility and simplicity, making it ideal to serve as a disposable army for Wingram’s examinations.

What he sought, however, was the spindle-like object that served to receive magical signalling and transmitted those requests to the auxiliary gears. That was the origin of the whirring of these puppets as they moved, an inscribed piece of aged and lathered oak that even now spun with an obvious desire to attack.

And it wasn’t something that Otis had any intention of overwriting. He could disrupt and hijack one core, make it subservient to his own whims. Taking what was within hand’s reach, for no reason at all.

Or he could use it as his standard instead, as his litmus test.

Thus, the Seeker’s reasoning. Essence made up all of existence, and the fundamentals of magic was altering what already existed externally. As the Mannekin’s construction was not foreign to him in the ways that mattered, it was indeed a magical construct. It possessed some form of autonomy, judging by every situation where the Mannekins approached in a disorderly, but not wholly disorganized, mob, but it did not issue its own commands. There would be someone else doing this then, sending something in the air to serve as a way of signalling. These were constructs, not organisms, so life-to-life links established in standard telepathy spellwork would not work, and maintaining such a network was exhaustive too. It was wide-range signalling then, signalling that could not be disrupted by combat.
Couldn’t be airborne. Too vulnerable to disruption in closed spaces like this.

Couldn’t be lightning-based. Readings from a quick spell he crafted detected nothing abnormal, and there was only anti-synergy using lightning with wood.

Couldn’t be visual. While there had been instances where the Mannekins showed a response to their environment, primarily in chasing down their quarry, every instance had been triggered by…

Audio. Commands were never verbally issued, either by the woman or the boy, and they had not always been speaking, but that was no indication that the ‘vessel’ that delivered their voice was shut off during that silence. Animals had long been proven to be capable of hearing sounds that humans can’t, and only specific sounds could truly cancel out other specific sounds. Vibrations as well, did possess synergy with wood and strings. Twas the form of musical instruments, perhaps, of the violin or cello, resonating at pitches he could not hear but that the spindle-core could parse.

That would be Otis’s hypothesis.

A shame, really, that he didn’t have time to isolate the specific signalling noise and then reverse only that. The brute force solution, inartistic as it was, ought to be attempted.

Breath escaped his lips, tranquility smoothing out his furrowed brows.

“Calm.”

The essence of tranquility subsumed the air and stilled everything, until one could not even hear the sound of their own heart, the sound of their own lungs. A maddening silence, to still even the hearts of the artificial.

If that was enough to cut the strings of the puppets, then Otis would be pleased enough.

If that wasn’t though?

Then it’d be back to reloading his bullets and blasting, while wheeling further down the hall and leaving Davil to muck about like a pig in the mud.

[Estylwen]

Ciara Ventura

Wingram Academy, Main Building
@Nanaya @ERode

---

Darkness.

Upon closer examination of the spirited boy, calling himself Davil, Ciara would tilt her head curiously and relax a bit. She inwardly smirked, "You should never judge a book by its cover, idiot."

"Don't call me idiot, idiot!" The child-like Voice bit back harshly before seeming to relax as well. "It's dark... It's all dark..."

Cirara hummed, nodding to herself, her initial impressions of Davil changing to one of strange, unexplainable comfort. Logically, one could never trust a person with so much darkness in them. But people like Davil and her new friend made the Voices in her head relax, which was something she could never do on her own. So she took it all in stride, the benefits outweighing the risks for her.

As her friend carefully examined the disarmed Mannekin, her gaze flickered to Davil as he enthusiastically charged at the intruders down the hallway.

Before... well, he came crawling back, covered in dark grease stains.

She sighed, already taking a step forward.

"There's no way this is your help, right? I mean, that would just be downright sad."

She heard the voice echo through the halls, staring at the walls where she saw the eyeballs briefly before blinking out of existence. She had to scoff again, taking another step forward as a wave of darkness grew in front of her feet, sweeping down the hall to push away the Mannekin, slowing down their charge and giving herself a few precious seconds.

"If you're really so confident, why don't you tell us where the auditorium is? I imagine that's where you're holed up. We can settle this, face to face." She said to the hallway, trying in vain to find the source of the snobby boy's voice.

She smirked coldly. "Unless you're scared."

As she spoke, her tentacles were busy at work, pulling out whatever loose furniture she could get her hands on. Quickly, classroom chairs and desks filled the hallway, stacking on top of each other to create a barrier between Ciara and the approaching Mannekins. Almost instantly, the sounds of bats smacking against wooden desks ricocheted off the walls, creating an uncomfortable staccato in the air.

She pursed her lips, trying to ignore them, tentacles pushing the desks and chairs to give more strength to the barrier. At the same time, she eyed the katana spinning uselessly on the floor. She gingerly snapped up the handle of the katana, taking great care to avoid having her shadowy tendrils touch the razor-sharp edge before shutting it off with another appendage and returning it back to the grease-stained Davil.

She thought they might have a moment to relax. But alas. That was before she saw another leader-type Mannekin making its way to the barrier, and she gritted her teeth. A bashing sound louder than all the rest resounded as the pompadour wig Mannekin's lightning bat crashed against her barrier. Desks and chairs were knocked into the walls, until the Mannekin made contact with bare tentacle.

"Ow!" Ciara hissed, tentacles buckling the moment they were hit with an electrical shock.

With the air charged with electricity, one final smack caused the barrier to fall, desks and chairs flying across the hallway in a haphazard manner. Ciara quickly moved back, shifting out of the way as a desk landed where she used to stand. Quickly, she unsheathed her daggers again, darkness coating the blades as she eyed the pompadour Mannekin with an intense glare, aftermath lightning arcs flickering across her twitching arms.

How would they make it to the auditorium, at the rate they were going now?

Her eyes shifted to her friend staring hard at the incapacitated Mannekin on the ground, before the air was charged a second time. This time with essence.

"Calm."

Her knees wanted to buckle as she heard the magic-filled word, and everything grew unimaginably still on the battlefield. She couldn't even hear it when her hands dropped the daggers out of blind serenity, the hilts making a metallic clink as they scattered at her feet. She tried to blink, hearing nothing, not even her own heartbeat.

Wasn't she in the middle of a fight?

She blinked again, trying to get her bearings uselessly. She could only stare at the Mannekin on the ground, wondering how the word would affect it and if they finally had an ace with which to seek out the auditorium.

[Psyker Landshark]

Iraleth Kyrios

Iraleth's reckless charge halted as the mannequins fell silent and she was met with a crossroads. Two separate walkways, and the building the mannequins had initially emerged from. She knew damned well the auditorium wasn't in there. The two that had initially arrived in the plaza with her hadn't gone that way, wherever they were now. That still left two possible paths to take. The wrong one would likely shatter her chances of making it to the goal in time-

The boy next to her spoke. How convenient. He knew the layout already? It likely had something to do with his Ethos. The chance that this was an attempt at sabotage would be counterproductive. Any attempt to disable her while she was flying with him in tow would risk himself as well. More than that, the offer of a restoration spell was extremely welcome. While Iraleth could heal her own wounds, refreshing her stamina with her own magic was a different story entirely. The effort required to shape Essence to rejuvenate herself would cost her strength as much as it restored, making the entire venture a net zero sum. That alone tilted the offer in his favor. If there were further trials after this, preserving her strength would be more than worthwhile.

Iraleth's helmet nodded, and she turned her back before kneeling down.

"I accept. Mind the wings." She replied, as the other girl with the gun caught up with them. Iraleth tilted her head in thought for a brief moment. As mouthy as she had been, the girl cooperated well enough and hadn't done anything foolish yet. Plus, she'd be weighed down as it was, escorting one. A second might even help, with the aid of a ranged weapon.

"You." Iraleth dismissed the sword in her right hand, using it to point at Hildegunde. "Join as well, if you wish. How is your aim while moving?" Her right arm beckoned, evidently looking to tuck the gunner under her shoulder and carry her that way.

@AThousandCurses @Sifr

[Sifr]

Whatever doubts Hildegunde had been harbouring earlier scattered along with the rain of embers. Bullet well spent. Hopefully she will do fine without spending another. The parting words were ominous, but they were an issue for later. She spent maybe a singular second admiring the shower of extinguished flames, before deciding she needed to get a move on.

That was, until Chunji approaches Iraleth. She freezes, observing, expecting another fight to break out. As demanding as Chunji was, she is relieved that he is approaching peacefully. While wary of him, and still not super on board with the idea of him as a classmate...well, it'd work to get on his good side. Best to be cooperative - it was maybe the smartest thing Iraleth had done all day, in her opinion. And who is she to turn down help from the woman who saved her earlier?

She points back at herself, as if to ask 'me?', lips curling into an playful smile. False bravado. She is nervous, but it would be hard for someone to pick up on this with how airily she is carrying herself.

"My aim's all I got," she half jokes, approaching the duo. If you're sure I won't weigh you down. I think you've dawdled enough helping others. She holds this back, however, in case the girl actually reconsiders. Not just because Chunji might react poorly, but because, quite frankly, she could use the lift. While she's not so injured that her physical ability is impeded in any way, now that the adrenaline has died down, she can feel her scrapes stinging. She'll need to clean them once her seat is secured. If she even manages that.

Hildegunde will feel bad if carrying her is the reason Iraleth ends up losing her seat, but...well, it was her own decision.

@Psyker Landshark@AThousandCurses

[Nanaya]

@Sifr@Psyker Landshark@AThousandCurses

PLAZA

Upon taking in the building in front of him in full, Chunji would see a chunk of the building near the back that matched his idea of an auditorium. It was a wide room with undoubtedly hundreds of chairs in rows and a stage at the front. The only part that might come as a surprise would be the fact that the auditorium was packed. Most of the chairs were filled with bodies, seated and obediently facing towards the stage, where a boy seemed to be moving about the stage as if practicing a speech and reciting lines. Judging by the familiar glowing cores in each seated individual's torso, it was obvious that each and every single one, apart from the boy, was a mannequin.

Apart from them, there was a trio of individuals holding off a horde of mannequins in a hallway near the auditorium - students that clearly managed to get the farthest ahead of the pack, so far, and have presumably been wandering beyond the plaza for some time now. To reach both the auditorium and the trio, Chunji would see that the proper path would be to follow the right walkway until reaching the town square further in, and then taking a left into the first door before running straight.

Even without this sight, however, the plaza trio of Hildegunde, Iraleth and Chunji would hear the sounds of battle raging further on down both walkways. All hell seemed to break loose, with rabid mannequin warriors descending from the rooftops and from out of windows to assault the desperately dashing students. Despite the student conflicts largely coming to a close after clearing the bridge, danger still lurked, as those trying to cross through either walkway would have to contend with the stray attacks of gods-know-what Ethos attacks and magic alike. The entire campus became a fireworks show shortly thereafter, the ticking clock signifying a no holds barred rush for the finish. No consideration was given to property damage or friendly fire, absolute chaos and unrepentant violence becoming commonplace on school grounds as each minute flew by.

Much of this, however, could be severely mitigated with flight.

---

@Estylwen@ERode

MAIN BUILDING

"Hmph. You really think I'd fall for such taunts, little girl? You have a vast gulf of experience to cross to reach my level of mental fortitude. I would be generous enough to take you on as my underling in the art of diplomacy, were it not for our shared fate as foes in this game of life." His words were snide and slimy, clearly reveling in this authority he felt, looking down at students from on high from a place of safety - a status quo he wished to maintain shamelessly.

His snooty laughter was quickly drowned out by a single word. "Calm." With but a simple phrase and some clear and thought-out intent poured into essence, the horde of Mannekin relented. As Davil crawled his way back to safety, giving a grateful nod to Ciara upon having his katana back, he looked at Otis with confusion. "Are you... a power word user? You should've told me sooner, dude! That's really awesome, I can't believe you just did that! Ahaha!"

Davil skipped and hopped over to the nearest Mannekin, hands at its sides, idling mindlessly, and tipped it over with a flick of his finger. "Guess they just couldn't handle the might of Otis and the Davster! The Dav!" He'd pose with his katana as if he were a proper samurai, before getting caught up in the moment as his eyes met Ciara. "Oh, and you too, actually. You were really great, uh, whatever your name was? Digging the shadows, real 'don't mess with me, punk' kind of vibe off of that."

As Davil gave a thumbs up, he almost fell over, not noticing as the Mannekin he had just shoved over had already stood up and moved past him. He took a swing in a panic, somehow missing the target that was moving at a walking speed, as it kept on moving towards Otis and eventually around him and further down the hall. The other Mannekin followed shortly behind, their weapons discarded, all moving in orderly lines down the hall and turning a corner, moving left to continue further down another hall.

"...Fine," the snobby boy's voice would crackle to life, sounding dejected. "Because of that little stunt, all interior units are being recalled, and you may follow them if you so wish to find your precious auditorium. I will be there, waiting for you all. If you value your lives, you will not follow, though. I will not hold back the moment I bear witness to your miserable faces in person. I will crush you, one and all, and become this academy's only student - the true hero of Vaal Nero!"

The sounds of battle would rage on outside, audible even from this hallway. Explosions and screams would ring out, alongside the sounds of scattering and breaking wood from Mannekin collapsing by the dozens. It was apparent now, for better or worse, that the hallway trio would not be alone for long one way or another.

[AThousandCurses]

With the knight accepting his offer of partnership, Chunji didn't waste any time walking over and climbing onto her back. By the time he wrapped his arms around her clavicle, the knight had offered another girl a ride as well. Given the rifle she was holding, that girl was the one making all the gunfire. If Chunji was displeased with this arrangement, then it was hard to tell since he didn't seem care about either. "Head down the right walkway to reach the town square, then take a left. Upon reaching the first door, we've reached out destination." As it was his newly made partner's choice, Chunji felt that his input was not necessary in the matter.

"Additionally they're over a hundred mannequins and a singular male that seems to be parroting off words and gestures in the auditorium. Evidence suggests he may be the one controlling the mannequins." An impressive feat considering how many puppets the boy controlled. Even if they varied by quality and automated, it was no doubt that it required massive amounts of skill to do so. Even so, that did not deter from Chunji from progressing.

There were many ways to proceed with this situation. Chunji didn't care as long as they got into the auditorium, but the way there could be made more easier with the right steps. "Suggestion. We can help students along the way, so they'll be able to deal with the mannequin problem for us. Or, we could head straight there and deal with ourselves." The knight's firepower seemed be trustworthy enough. Judging by how she smited the elf, from what he assumed, and trampled down the mannequins like a tornado through a town, they might be able to do it by themselves.

The girl could also additionally hide herself and try to snipe the golemancer from afar while they distracted him. Her aim was immpecable in a situation like this. Though this had the general risk of the person tanking the bullets to face like that martial artist from before. Though it may still disrupt his focus with manually controlling the puppets.

Forming a few hand symbols, he placed his palm onto the knight. "梦的循环抚慰羊群," Immediately when he casted the spell, Chunji realized the spell had an unattended effect. Chunji felt his energy slightly drained away as it disappeared into the spell. A frown appeared on his lips as it did so. He recited the incantation correctly, but it had a different outcome. How frustrating, further study was required. The unattended benefit of this however was that not only was Iraleth's strength replenished, she was also strengthened as well.

[ERode]

_{@Nanaya@Estylwen}

“When?”

That was all that Otis had to say in response to Davil’s praise. There had been no time, after all, where the excitable wannabe-hero had actually asked him what his capabilities were, and thus, he had not seen any reason to explain what exactly his own capabilities were. Power words, impressive as they appeared, were the least preferrable method of problem solving in Otis’s arsenal. It was a blanket solution for specific problems, like using a grenade to open up a present box. Even with intents focused, the effects were still often area-of-effect, expanding outwards at the speed of sound. And, most importantly, it required a specific personal essence that one radiated outwards; such power words were far too inconsistent in terms of performance when the situation was actually stressful.

It was fair to say then, that despite the success, Otis wore a scowl.

Without any further hesitation, the Strigidae wheeled off once more, following in the wake of the returning Mannekins. There was no sense of urgency in his movements now, however, with his speed just enough to urge a light jog out of his companions. Their opponent sounded like a student as well, but it seemed entirely incomprehensible that they were able to reach the auditorium before anyone else even got to the starting point. The attitude, however? That was a hero he could understand, so full of ego that they would throw away their heroism in order to become the singularity. A meaningful obsession. A proper arrogance.

“Remember the conditions,” he spoke, as they neared the final stage of their journey. “We need to be seated inside the auditorium at 10AM. Nothing more, nothing less.” Actually vanquishing this final boss wasn’t something that would give them extra marks. It could even be detrimental, if collateral destroyed the seats in the auditorium, if they were caught up in the mad melee that would soon ensue when all the other students finally caught up. “Our opponent is arrogant and desires a true confrontation, but we don’t need to give him that.”

Empty shells clitter-clattered in his wake, new bullets slotted in to the freed up space. He lingered upon one, inscribing upon it a simple spell to generate a brilliant light.

“Davil, you go first, on my gunshot. Close your eyes to account for the flash, then rush in as fast as you can towards our friend in the auditorium.” Otis’s lips twisted. “If he’s going to be the true hero of Vaal Nero, you’ll have to overcome him. Do it now.”

“And…” A slight pause, his gaze turning towards the shadow-weaver just long enough that she knew he was speaking to her. “I’m Otis Tan Arillo. I’ll need you to secure three seats or one bench after Davil gets in. A door will open up beside you. Toss the seat in and if you don’t wish to fight, enter that door.”

That was the safer option, after all. They could just hide until it was almost time, then return their seat to the auditorium and sit down from there.

“I don’t mind whether we fight or hide, but all things considered? It’s a waste to show everything we can do during the entrance exam, so that option’s open to you as well, Davil. But I’ll still need you to give that ‘hero’ a scare beforehand.”

[Estylwen]

Ciara Ventura

Wingram Academy, Main Building
@Nanaya @ERode

---

"Oh, and you too, actually. You were really great, uh, whatever your name was?"

She blinked, a little overcome at simply watching Davil. He… He didn't react to the word. The Mannekins were still, and even she was struggling to come back to herself. Yet he…

Davil's aura was dark, similar to her friend. Dark auras proved to be the most unpredictable, despite the comfort they gave her. This one, this Davil, the one she pulled out of the sky to save the Light, was proving to be very, very interesting.

"Ciara." She said, stooping to pick up her daggers, sheathing them at her hips, trying to hide the gears turning in her mind. She shifted on her feet in agitation, trying to shake off the last of the word. Her eyes followed the Mannekin as they moved slowly. Something had… changed.

"Because of that little stunt, all interior units are being recalled, and you may follow them if you so wish to find your precious auditorium. I will be there, waiting for you all."

Ciara glared up at the edges of the hallway, picturing where she imagined the puppeteer was watching from. "Challenge accepted."

She disappeared in shadow briefly, appearing beside her friend near the front of the trail of Mannekin. Her head tilted as she moved at a quick pace, hearing the sounds of utter chaos outside. It wasn't a surprise they were the only students who had made it thus far. But a part of her frowned. All students deserved a chance. This entrance exam was… well, dangerous, to say the least. Ciara could imagine all the coddled Ethos users from warm, bright homes coming to Wingram. They wouldn't stand a chance, couldn't stand a chance. The entrance exams favored battle prowess strongly.

Ciara's brows furrowed.

Was Wingram secretly a military academy?

Her friend, the Stridigae, spoke as they moved down the hallways at a rapid pace. He explained a well-thought out plan, especially given the urgency of their situation.

“We need to be seated inside the auditorium at 10AM. Nothing more, nothing less. Our opponent is arrogant and desires a true confrontation, but we don’t need to give him that.”

She smirked inwardly at that, feeling the urge to strangle that snobby kid.

“Davil, you go first, on my gunshot."

Her head tilted, gaze flickering to Davil briefly before returning to her friend. Was he… wait, no. He knew Davil was useless on the battlefield. Why would he send their weakest member out first, even under the cover of light?

She had her own theories on Davil, but there was no need to get the boy injured needlessly.

“I’m Otis Tan Arillo. I’ll need you to secure three seats or one bench after Davil gets in. A door will open up beside you. Toss the seat in and if you don’t wish to fight, enter that door."

Ciara gave a polite nod of her head, "Ciara. Ciara Ventura. Thank you, by the way."

Otis had come through when she pulled on the telepathic link. A part of her thought she would have been abandoned, given the gravity of the situation.

Her nose wrinkled briefly. "A flash of light, huh?"

She sighed. "Your battle plan is sound, and I agree with you. But… Might I… make a suggestion?"

She pulled on the telepathic link. He had given no indication of closing the link, so she used it to her advantage.

"Either give Davil a flash of darkness, or let him walk in and pretend to be a hero. He's a good talker. He can buy us time by stalling the boy waiting for us.

"A flash of light will render me useless as long as it's overwhelmingly bright. It'll kill my shadow. I'd rather use those first few seconds to get into a strategic position."

She paused, glancing at the eyeballs in the dark corners of the hallway as they scattered from her sight, before her focused gaze returned to Otis.

"We're being watched, and I'd rather have the element of surprise, whatever plan we decide on."

Time was short. Terribly short. She would make it work if Otis went ahead with his plan. But, she did have an idea. A way to improve the plan.

Her head tilted, a mischievous glint in her eye. "If the auditorium can be drowned in darkness, all the lights shot, curtains blocking the sunlight… I can grab every seat needed, and destroy that twerp."

A dark mist rose off her arms briefly as her expression became vexed. "This kid is needlessly causing trouble… I'm gonna teach him a few manners…"

It was the opposite of what Otis had recommended. But she couldn't help how she felt.

She wanted to strangle the kid.