Plank Sinatra
Izurich
BrokenPromise
Majoraa
The World
shadowsaint007
Ammokkx
HereComesTheSnowThen, into the storm.
The weather they'd faced in their training exercises pales in comparison to what lurks now in the skies above Palmyra. Even towering Selma Rosemarie, who has touched the snow-capped tips of the world, hasn't seen nature at this level of maliciousness.
Maybe it's because it isn't entirely natural.
Rain sleets down, a heavy curtain that would force a normal human to bow under its pressure. Lightning dances across the skies, jagged arcs with an unnatural red tint. Between those staccato bursts the world is lit only by the pale blue glow of Plamyra's Nox diffusers, glowing lanterns that cap the long metal poles suspending them above the city streets. Normally they'd breathe gently with light, a slow and steady pulse–but tonight burn bright and hot with effort to repel the poison in the frigid air.
It only takes a few minutes of travel, given the speed at which Team Kheper can move. Soon enough they arrive at the power station, a blocky two-story building surrounded by sturdy fencing. A row of blocky generators and stocky pylons sit within the protected enclosure, several of them protected by heavy tarps and sheets.
The path of destruction is immediately obvious: a chunk of the heavy duty fencing has been sliced through, a clean V shaped cut that's left the edges of the thick bars melted into slag. There are scorch marks along the concrete, thin burns that scour the path forward. Chie and Selma, both with sonars of their own type, can feel the limp figures of Imperium soldiers slumped across the inner perimeter of the power station.
They at least have some forewarning before the explosion. They are people-shapes moving amongst the pylons, disguised in the rain and dark. They're detectable for just a moment before the distortion of the eruption, a blue ball of flame that erupts from the line of generators and briefly lights the darkness. A nearby pylon, a chunk now missing, groans as the latticework of metal begins toppling toward the ground.
In its wake is another pop, and then another, electric blue sparks blossoming across the long line of batteries.
And in the midst of the machinery, wreaking destruction as she walks, is a woman. It's hard to make out clear details in the brief flashes of light, but she's of average height, dressed in a sleek and armored bodysuit. More interesting are what hovers in the air around her; around a half-dozen fist sized metal diamonds that glow with a burning yellow light. They twirl and arc through the air, releasing beams of vivid white energy that slice through the generators like a hot knife through butter.
On the streets nearby the sapphire light of the Nox diffusers flicker and dim, the buildings nearby letting out a anguished hum as the power coursing through their walls is abruptly and violently halted. The lights in the windows of the nearby control building flicker as well, dimming, slowly losing life as magic bleeds out from machinery and disperses uselessly into the cool air.
The weather they'd faced in their training exercises pales in comparison to what lurks now in the skies above Palmyra. Even towering Selma Rosemarie, who has touched the snow-capped tips of the world, hasn't seen nature at this level of maliciousness.
Maybe it's because it isn't entirely natural.
Rain sleets down, a heavy curtain that would force a normal human to bow under its pressure. Lightning dances across the skies, jagged arcs with an unnatural red tint. Between those staccato bursts the world is lit only by the pale blue glow of Plamyra's Nox diffusers, glowing lanterns that cap the long metal poles suspending them above the city streets. Normally they'd breathe gently with light, a slow and steady pulse–but tonight burn bright and hot with effort to repel the poison in the frigid air.
It only takes a few minutes of travel, given the speed at which Team Kheper can move. Soon enough they arrive at the power station, a blocky two-story building surrounded by sturdy fencing. A row of blocky generators and stocky pylons sit within the protected enclosure, several of them protected by heavy tarps and sheets.
The path of destruction is immediately obvious: a chunk of the heavy duty fencing has been sliced through, a clean V shaped cut that's left the edges of the thick bars melted into slag. There are scorch marks along the concrete, thin burns that scour the path forward. Chie and Selma, both with sonars of their own type, can feel the limp figures of Imperium soldiers slumped across the inner perimeter of the power station.
They at least have some forewarning before the explosion. They are people-shapes moving amongst the pylons, disguised in the rain and dark. They're detectable for just a moment before the distortion of the eruption, a blue ball of flame that erupts from the line of generators and briefly lights the darkness. A nearby pylon, a chunk now missing, groans as the latticework of metal begins toppling toward the ground.
In its wake is another pop, and then another, electric blue sparks blossoming across the long line of batteries.
And in the midst of the machinery, wreaking destruction as she walks, is a woman. It's hard to make out clear details in the brief flashes of light, but she's of average height, dressed in a sleek and armored bodysuit. More interesting are what hovers in the air around her; around a half-dozen fist sized metal diamonds that glow with a burning yellow light. They twirl and arc through the air, releasing beams of vivid white energy that slice through the generators like a hot knife through butter.
On the streets nearby the sapphire light of the Nox diffusers flicker and dim, the buildings nearby letting out a anguished hum as the power coursing through their walls is abruptly and violently halted. The lights in the windows of the nearby control building flicker as well, dimming, slowly losing life as magic bleeds out from machinery and disperses uselessly into the cool air.
