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@Crimson Lion I mean, whole point of the show was people making up their own suits that far surpassed the official ones though... right?
Shame there doesn't seem to be much interest in this. I love Build Fighters.
It was the ecstatic beeps from his Scouter that finally got Glaceo's attention. Unlike every other Scouter currently in service, Glaceo's was an advanced prototype. It's visor shape allowed for a larger and more detailed HUD functionality. It's dual earpieces allowed for twice as much processing power, meaning it's readings were always faster and more accurate. It's overall range was also about twice as much as even the current generation Scouters. But the Scouter itself wasn't important right now, the sudden spike in readings from within his own ship was the main concern.

"What is it, now?" Glaceo muttered under his breath as he left his position on the bridge to investigate. He had more important matters to focus than settling some petty dispute between soldiers. Whatever this was it better damn well have been important enough to require his attention. When he stepped through the door to the observation deck he was greeted by having to step over a corpse of all things. He let out a disappointed, if frustrated sigh, "If I may be so bold, why is there is a dead body on the floor of my observation deck?" he sounded polite, but his men knew better than to assume he wasn't annoyed or even outright livid. Glaceo was quite infamous for his ability to sound calm and collected no matter how enraged he actually was.

His gaze fixated almost instantly on Satay. She was the only one on board this ship with a penchant for impulsive killing, "Let me guess, he looked at you funny?" Glaceo then knelt down at the body and reached under the soldier's battle suit. All soldiers were required to wear identification in the event of death on the job. Most of the time they were stored electronically in the Scouters, like digital dogtags. After finding what he was looking for, Glaceo spoke again, "Kiwamu... Galactic Frieza Army Scouting Division #742. Here," Glaceo removed the identification and handed them over to a nearby Officer, "log Kiwamu's death in the records. Just call it a 'training accident' or something. Those are easy enough to believe. And... leave a memo in my office to make communications with his family to inform them." the officer nodded and did as ordered. Then Glaceo shot his gaze back in Satay's direction.

"We're limited on resources out here as it is without us slaughtering our men for petty reasons. Don't let this happen again. Just because the Universe thinks we're monsters doesn't mean we have to constantly act like it. I heard you speaking to Arkos, what happened?" he pressed some buttons on his scouters and was able to detect the power levels - or rather one power level - nearby Arkos's position, "Hmm, must be a glitch. Two forms but only one power level reading...? Rutaba? Arkos has been spotted, unknown if he's been compromised yet. Provide reinforcement while I bring us in for a landing."
For all but a moment, Zarxe didn't hear anything being said. A single uttered word grabbed his attention and for that moment, it was the only thing he could think about. Knighthood. That word, something about it seemed so... familiar to Zarxe. And for another brief moment, a vivid picture filled his mind - and it was something he remembered...

Primus ~ The Past

"Come on, now, you won't win by pulling your punches." Prince Lyon spoke in a taunting tone. He stood across from his sparring partner, each gripped a training sword in their hand. The swords were real, save for the blades being dulled to avoid serious injury. It was only a training exercise, and so obviously real swords were not necessary.

Lyon was a Prince, one of several actually. The continent of Arvell had been torn by war and rivalries once upon a time. The Kingdoms of Arvell vied for land and resources, their bold and brave knights fighting bloody battles in the name of their kings. Then the Horrors appeared. Creatures of darkness, black as the midnight sky emerged from shadows and all manner of places. They preyed upon the innocent and guilty alike, their Hearts devoured and adding to the numbers of the Horrors. So great was this invasion, that all the Kingdoms nearly fell within the year. But Arvell was not lost, a young knight named Mithos called to his hand a mighty weapon said to be forged from the very Light of heaven itself. With this key-shaped blade Mithos vanquished the Horrors and saved Arvell from its destruction. With the Horrors defeated, all the kingdoms of Arvell were indebted to Mithos the Hero, who only asked that the wars between the Kingdoms be put to an end and peace be allowed to reign over Arvell. His wish was granted, and the Kingdoms came together and formed the Imperium Of Nations. Each Kingdom retained their autonomy but in times of crisis they would come together as the Imperium. That story had long since faded into Legend, in recent times in unknown where Mithos even hailed from - though many of the Imperium's nations claim to the Hero's homeland.

Lyon's nation, the Kingdom of Ashwall, was such a nation. Lyon's father even took it a step further and claimed to be a direct descendant of Mithos. But none of that mattered at the moment, for this day was not about Lyon, but the friend he was sparring with. A squire who later that afternoon was set to take on the final trial to prove his worthiness of knighthood. Different kingdoms approached knighthood in different ways, but in Ashwall one could only be called a knight if they pass the Trials of Knighthood. The trials involved completing a quest given by their sire, spending their teenage and young adult years training under an experienced knight. Then, if their Knight Master finds them ready, the Squire is to participate in an almost ritualistic dual against the very Knight who trained them, finally being awarded knighthood upon their victory. Lyon's friend had finished all the other trials, and only the dual against Sir Ardeth Balmung remained.

"Set the formalities aside for once, and let me see what you can really do!" taunted Lyon, awaiting an attack from his sparring partner. Nearby, Lyon's sister Rana watched the sparring with mild interest that became more serious when her brother started goading his opponent to go all out. She could only sigh and hope no one got seriously hurt. Once those two got going it was always impossible to stop them.

Lyon's opponent, meanwhile, tightened his grip on his sword. He then slowly rotated the blade into a wide circle before quickly twisting the sword around his grip. This action signaled an almost radiant glow in the blade as he lunged for an attack. The light the blade gave off almost seemed to extend the size and reach of the sword. Lyon managed to duck out of the way, and as a result the attack struck a nearby boulder. At first nothing happened, then cracks started forming and eventually the boulder cleanly split into two halves.

"What the - you could have killed me just now!" Lyon shouted, exasperated. He stuck the blade of his weapon into the ground and glared at his opponent with an annoyed look on his face. His opponent did the same with their weapon. Instead of talking back he dropped to a single knee, preparing to offer his deepest apologizes.

"Oh stop." it was Rana. She was stomping up to Lyon with an annoyed look of her own, "You told him to stop holding back, Brother. You have no one to blame but yourself." she said, putting her hands on her hips and giving her brother an accusatory point of her finger.

Then, suddenly, and without warning, all three burst out in laughter. Apparently this little argument - if it could even be called that - was just one of many examples of this trio mercilessly teasing each other.

"A fine attack." said Lyon, examining his opponent's handiwork and whistling with awe, "Looks like Master Balmung's been training you hard, alright. But... then again, Master Balmung is reputed to have felled fifty opponents with a single stroke. You might still be in trouble yet."

"Oh, please... probably just more knightly boasting. Don't listen to Lyon. Master Balmung wouldn't be dueling you if he didn't think you were ready."

"Hey, I never said I didn't believe in him. You'll do great, I'm sure of it. You're definitely ready. Right? Ez-"

Renovation

And just like that, Zarxe snapped out of it. He filed the memory away and put his attention back on the here and now. But it was a good sign, it meant that the Leader was telling the truth and Zarxe's memories would indeed piece themselves back together over time.
With all the conversing, and all the explanation going on, one would be hard pressed to remember that there was indeed a second black-clad individual in the Emperor's throne room. And Zarxe remained silent, though certainly still attentive. Most of what was explained were things the Organization had already discovered, either on their own or through their investigation of Renovation. There was only one real fact that was new, and that was the method by which the multiverse was created. The so-called X-Blade that opened the way for Kingdom Hearts. The Organization knew of Kingdom Hearts, the Leader even said that its raw power would someone to do virtually anything they wanted, they'd effectively be a God. Perhaps this was the reason why he took an interest in Renovation? Especially if Tocsax truly was the Nobody of the person who had wielded the power previously. Maybe, just maybe, the Organization was closer to its goal than the Leader originally led on?

We do not sense anything overtly strange.

A voice that sort of echoed in Zarxe's mind. It was Alpha, a Lesser Nobody that Zarxe commanded - one of seven that were known as Hunters. Even now, the canine-like Nobodies were stalking the palace grounds from the confines of the Corridors of Darkness, using them to remain almost completely cloaked. Alpha was essentially the pack leader, nicknamed such due their similarity to a wolf pack, though Alpha would always defer to Zarxe.

Except for that one. His scent is completely bizarre... No. That's not entirely accurate. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that he has no discernible scent at all. It's... rather confusing.

Zarxe could tell who Alpha was referring to. They just spoke up, saying their name was Orpheus. Of the entire motley group, he was most certainly the strangest of all. Alpha's analysis seemed to indicate that the person apparently existed while also not existing. A paradoxical situation that made the figure all but impossible to accurately gauge. Still, Zarxe remained silent. He probably looked even more stoic than the actual palace guards did. His hood also made it impossible to see and thus read his eyes and expression. One of the many advantages enjoyed by those who regularly donned the black coat of the Organization.

The others report nothing suspicious or out of the ordinary elsewhere in the palace.

While Alpha was technically in the throne room with Zarxe - albeit their presence was totally cloaked and masked by the Corridors of Darkness - the other six Hunters were prowling the palace grounds and corridors, acting as an almost constant recon of everything happening in the palace and reporting it to Alpha who relayed them to Zarxe. While very few in number, the Hunters were very good at the task they specialized in, that being stalking prey and - more recently - gathering intelligence. One would be hard pressed to find Zarxe in any position where he couldn't be made aware of something happening within the vicinity in a moment's notice.
It was a world whose very existence could be considered an abomination by some. All worlds have two sides to them, two Realms - one of Light and one of Darkness. Much of what people call the "real" world is the Realm of Light. As for the other side, it was more often than not a desolate wasteland of Darkness, devoid of light and lived in only by the Heartless and their ilk. But this world... it was different. Not like the others. It wasn't a natural world at all, but one that was created with the explicit purpose of existing between both sides. The world itself resembled a metropolis of sorts, tall buildings stretching up as if reaching for the starless night sky. The sky itself was also unnatural, always dark and with no stars or even a moon. The city itself provided light with which to see, neon signs and markers in the roads. And yet, for all this lit up city, there were no people whatsoever. It had no life, no citizens, no animals, not even any plants or vegetation. It was for all intents and purposes, a purely synthetic city. This was, like those who called it home, a World That Never Was.

There was one unique feature to this lifeless city, and that was a great castle built in the center of a great pit that could only be accessed by a large bridge. The castle, much like the city, was devoid of life. But the building itself was brightly lit, not a single dark hallway to be found within its walls. It was also a very modern castle, appearing to be built from concrete and steel like the city skyscrapers. Beyond that the castle sported very hi tech decor. Its floors alight with neon markers and doors that glowed with markers to indicate where they led to. This castle, this very world could uniquely be described as existing within both Light and Darkness. Or neither, it actually depended on whom you asked. The castle's main audience chamber sported no less than thirteen thrones arranged to form a symbolic unfinished circle allowing their occupants to face each other directly. The thrones themselves varied in how high off the ground they were raised, and each were marked with a Roman Numeral numbered between I and XIII. Well, the thirteenth throne had yet to be marked, and it currently held no occupant. But the other 12 seats in the Throne Room of Emptiness housed humanoid figures cloaked in black coats, faces mostly obscured by their hoods. The thirteenth hooded figure stood in the center of the room, knelt before Number I's throne on a single knee like a knight bowing before his liege.

"Leader, surely one of us is better suited for this task?" the voice came from the Black Coat seated on the throne marked with the Number XII. He'd previously been the newest recruit before Number XIII's arrival.

"You dare to question our Leader's judgement, Xagram?" the booming voice came from Number II, who was considered to be second only to the Leader himself.

"Calm yourself, Rexon." Number III spoke, his voice much calmer and yet somehow even more threatening than Rexon's, "It was not an invalid question. I, too, am unsure of his readiness."

"Don't pretend to give ME orders, Xadeth! Last time I checked, I was Number II and you Number III!"

The Leader raised his hand. He didn't even say a word, but the motion was more than enough to silence everyone's murmurs and arguments. Many of the hooded figures sat upon their thrones in differing positions and postures. Number II took to his throne like a King or Dictator. Number III sat with his back rested against the chair's back, a more comfortable position but still business-like. Others like Number VI and XII sat in their thrones with one leg crossed over the other, appearing like businessmen attending a board meeting. Some kept their arms crossed, while Number X notably sat on her throne in a lounging posture with her legs crossed comfortable and hanging over one of the armrests. Even Number I appeared to favor comfort over business. He had one foot up on his throne, using his knee as an armrest rather than the actual armrest of the throne. He still hadn't spoke yet, but everyone could just make out a wide, constant grin and occasionally a light-blue flash coming from what would naturally be one of his eyes.

"I'm with Xadeth..." the Number I finally spoke. His tone was not particularly threatening, in fact it was almost downright playful, "...you should really take a chill pill Rexon."

"But - Er... Yes, Leader."

"As I was saying, before Xagram rudely interrupted me..." Number I's gaze briefly shot over to Xagram who seemed to jump slightly as if expecting some form of punishment that never actually arrived, "...that world, Renovation, it's leader's goal doesn't seem entirely separate from ours."

"How so? Our spies only reported something about Keyholes and Princesses. What does any of that have to do with the Organization's mission?" it was Number III - Xadeth, one of the only members who remained unafraid to ask questions of their Leader.

Number I's response amounted to... a shrug. Not an uncommon gesture, he seemed to shrug almost as often as he grinned. However, he did speak afterward, "It's not really those things I'm interested in. It's the people seeking them. If my intuition's right, and it pretty much always is, the key to our mission will be found within this Emperor Michael's goals. So that's why we're sending in our very own Zarxe. He'll introduce himself, extend the olive branch and Bob's your uncle we've got ourselves a little alliance."

This seemed satisfactory to rest of the Organization, as none of them questioned the plan any longer. At this the grin on Number I's face widened a bit, "Oh good, no more questions. Whelp, Zarxe, you've been given your mission. Pull it off and this thirteenth throne is all yours! So get out there and let our enemies know what it's like to face the Cold Inferno." that was nickname assigned to Zarxe. They all had been given one. The Cold Inferno, The Hero of Chaos, The Scion of Space, The Pale Horseman, and so on.

"It will be done, Leader." Zarxe finally spoke, his words were quick and without hesitation. No doubt he was a knight and soldier in his former life to be able to accept orders so easily. He stood from his knelt position and offered a knightly salute to the Leader. As he did so a Corridor of Darkness opened behind him, and Zarxe silently stepped through it.


Relationships Added: Porato, Rutaba, and Satay.
Relationships Updated: Arkos
Techniques Added: Death Stinger, Death Slicer Salvo
Name: Zarxe (Zahrk-See)

Appearance:



Bio: Zarxe was once a knight in a world simply named, Primus. Very little is known about Primus, as Zarxe is the sole survivor and his memories are still in a bit of a scrambled state since turning Nobody. According to the Organization's enigmatic leader, this is natural for freshly born Nobodies and that Zarxe's memory will piece itself together over time. Regardless, Zarxe was clearly a trained warrior of some kind in his past life, as he has proven a capable fighter in the Organization's ranks.

Really though, Zarxe's home world matters little in the grand scheme of things, as his truly story truly began with the Organization. After his turning, a slightly amnesiac Zarxe stumbled blindly through the Realm of Darkness. Eventually he was happened upon by a man in a black coat. This man didn't offer his name at first, but seemed to understand exactly what was happening to the young man he'd found. He said that there were others who also shared a similar fate, and that he had brought them together in the hopes that they could reclaim what they had lost. He gave Zarxe his current name, and then made him Number XIII in what was now known as Organization XIII.

Within the Organization, Zarxe hasn't had much time to really get to know the other members. Some of seemed to have mild interest in him, while others were outright indifferent. Zarxe has completed lesser missions for the Organization but has yet to be trusted with a truly important mission. Supposedly the Leader is simply waiting for a good mission for Zarxe to embark on to present itself.

Age: ?

Skills: Zarxe wields the Crimson Blueblade, a double-sword consisting of a red and blue blade connected by the hilts. Each blade can channel or command a specific element, red being fire and blue being ice. This being the case, he's proficient with both Fire- and Ice-Elemental strikes and spells. The added versatility comes at a price, since one usually only needs to pay attention to which of his blades he attacks with in order to determine whether to expect ice or flame. Compared to most Organization members, Zarxe tends to strike a balance between speed, power, and defense. Almost as if to play into his versatility as a wielder of two elements. His versatility serves as a valuable asset to the Organization, which tends to view him as suitable for any mission type - be it combat, stealth, or even espionage and subterfuge.

Personality: Zarxe appears to wear two distinct faces. One of which is calmer and more calculating while the other one more heated and temperamental. This appears to stem from his dual-element nature, and can even be surmised to determine whether he attacks with fire or ice, though that isn't always the case. Regardless, Zarxe is the most impressionable of the Organization due to his being Number XIII and thus the most recent addition to their ranks. He's even still in the process of coming to grips with being a Nobody and having no Heart. But even in spite of that, if he's given a job or mission then Zarxe will endeavor to complete it to the best of his abilities. A job half finished isn't worth doing at all, a common phrase of his, almost certainly derived from his past life.

~World Sheet~
Name: Primus

Summary of History: Unknown

Important Nations (Great Powers, etc.): Unknown

Overall Technology Level: Unknown

Map: Unknown
@Letter Bee

My character's done for now. His home world isn't really all that important in the grand scheme of things so I've left it alone for the time being.
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