Welcome to Gaia! ::

Shouyin had found himself in the Hell's frost Valley Complex, and as he walked he obviously didn't know it would activate the security system, which would then scan his body and memorize his genetic struture and would program it self to to attack anything with that genetic structuce, and there were motion detection systems everywhere, it would be near impossible, to be able to evade the process. Out of the ground rose 1,000 30 foot tall Energy Cannon, that were all aiming at Shouyin and continuesly adjusting there aim to compensate for Shouyin's movent and any other important changes. Alot of them where to far away for any humanoid to reach quickly, as they were mounted up on the top of the valley. If that wasn't enough, out of the sky would come hundreds of medium sized remote controlled jet aircraft with a top speed of mach 11 and with heat seeking missiles that could be remotely uploaded with a genetic sample, which it would now seek, in this case Shouyin.

((I edited))
Neither would happen, as they were spaced in such away from each other to prevent that and that they had been made out of the same stuff that had been made out of a powerfull metal called tritium.

((I edit before you replied, and the base nothing, I'll just recycle the leftovers and start again, once your dead, and the complex is not little.))

Patheticly, he just barely dented the things, if they could stand up to a high yield energy blast, then this guys fist were nothing.
((I have to go , my mom's making me go to sleep.))

((Way to pick on the little guy Shoe. Bullies are so useless.))

::Now if it was going to take a couple of days, it was going to attract attention. For a few hours it could be ignored, maybe even for a day. But the explosions, the noise, the earth melding...it was annoying. And so it had to be dealt with.

He would soar by as if shot out of a cannon, as if precisely calculated he would land directly beside Shouyin, landing as if his fall for 30 stories up didnt effect him in the slightest. He was just in time! Only about a quarter of the fleet had been destroyed, Shoe was busy hacking away at the rest.

The man was entirely bald, wearing only a black track suit, and holding up his right hand. It was the way you might see a police officer hold up his hand when trying to stop traffic. His violet eyes had a slight glow to them, and they seemed to lock onto Shouyin as he spoke.::

Anomolous Lifeform. This is your first and final warning, cease and desist then return to your domocile. Failure to comply will result in the use of extreme force.

::It was odd. He was standing in the middle of a battle field but all the projectile fire seemed to miss him by mere inches. Was he just that lucky? Who knows! What could be assumed was that he was ordering Shouyin to stop. And he would make him, if need be.::

((I could have sworn there was a rule against dragging OOC into IC, I'll check the rules. Akira can deal with the rest himself, as long as your running away.))

::Needless to say he didnt get the reference. But the man was complying and so he had no reason to use force. He did however keep his eyes and hand trained on him as he walked away and until he was out of view.

Every thousand feet or so a whirring could be heard from the "mans" head as his sights adjusted. And they would continue to adjust for the next 5.42 miles, at which point he would lower his hand and begin a steady patrol of the area. Standard patrol time was 24 hours, and then he'd have to switch to general observation.

He would make no efforts to interact with, or repair anything, lest it enter into or interupt his mission parameters::

Regret, has the awe inspiring power which haunts my actions to this day. Despite my research, to this day I do no understand why...

::The fountain pen pauses its rythmic etching for a fraction of a moment as emotions swirl into thoughts, thoughts into ideas, ideas into words...and without further delay the writing continues.::

I do not follow in his dogma...I know this. Time flows on and no technology can reverse it...I know this. She is gone, forever...I know this. Regret is useless...I know this. But it enslaves me still, it enraptures itself around me and demands action....but what? Who...? For what have I not attoned. For what sins am I still accountable!?

I will learn, I remember, what my mind has buried, what memories were stolen...this shot will be my last...then I will see you.

::The fountain pen, and the first attached to it, slam into the hard wood desk. The vibrations shake the unsteady lamp on the edge of the desk...Anger. The dominating emotion, anger fuels the shakes across the mans wrist. The rythmic rat-tat-tatting of the machinery within his left sleave knocking against wood. The pen is slid into the ink well and a head of white hair rises up as a man lifts himself from his chair...::

I need only a bit more time.

::His accent is strong, as strong as his mind, as strong as his will. His back creaks and pops...his body is weak, as weak as his sanity. Old, as old as sin...::

Anozher decade perhaps...a century maybe?

::His hands slide across the wooden desk and slide open a small drawer...in the drawer lies a small unassuming, black box. Silver lines the leather body of the box, as does dust and yet decay has not come. Though age has. The mans aged and shriveled hands flick open a small lock and then gently lift the lid of the worn box. The rainbow hue strikes his face immediately, but he is without fear. His finger comes to rest on a vial of an ever changing liquid...and a syringe. The needles tip rests gently on his wrist...his spotted hand shaking unsteadily.::

Zhe elixir of life...zhe blood of god...

::And in it goes. His wrinkly skin parting by the wayside of the thin metal shaft, the pain shooting up his arm, but warranting no reaction. There was some slight discomfort, yes in honesty, it did sting a little. But it was over as soon as it began.::

Aaaaahh....Life.

::His right hand slides the syringe from the wound and dabs it on his taught flesh to clean up the excess, and he immediately runs his hand through his stark, almost firey red hair.::

Anozher decade...to find vhat plagues my being...to make it right...for you my love...

::His fingers can be seen tracing a photo within the box before closing it yet again and returning it to its home within his desk.::

...for you...I vill live vithout regret. For you...I challenge zhe fool named god.

::As another thunder clap ripples across the frozen wasteland.::

---

::A room over sits a tube with murky green liquid swirling within it. A faint figure can be seen in the center of the ovaloid tube. It seems round, uncertain...or perhaps unformed. And yet its so tiny...so miniscule.

A lacy thin hand runs across the outside of the glass gently singing. Mary strums her nails against the glasses as she paces around it. Her eyes lost in the green glow of the tube, the light casting off on one other figure. A hulking sillohette in the corner...and she speaks.::

Almost...

::Her eyes scan over a device above the tub, it displays a series of yellow bars. They go from left to right, and yet as it progresses the light seems brighter...Another lightning bolt, and another tally blinks into being. Another mark fuel cell filled.

She smiles, the time is near...::

....almost.

---Outside---

GRRraaaaaaaahH!!

::A roar, a freakish combination of animals we dream of in our nightmares. We are trained to attacked when our home is in jeopardy, our animals know to bite and scratch and howl and bark. This animal was no different.

This was an attack, the dent in the door had actived the auto-turret defenses causing a vertible army of 200 floating orbs to break free from their frosted prisons and take aim on the red haired man. Dark Violet scanners from literally hundreds of different sources descended on him in seconds...What was it? Who was it? Why was it? Knowledge is power!

Something...moved in the distance. A figure covered in the gentle frost, it was monstrous, hulking, freakish. It dragged two giant knuckles in the ground beside it as it made its way to the wound be attacker. A low growl escaping its massive maw.::

---86th Floor---

::The impact drew caused a mans pen to strike out a set of letters on the paper he was writing. It was something to the effect of...::

And by such means we can finally harvest the infinite energy of the Sun...

::He paused. The defenses were functioning at optimal proficiency, there was no reason to hurry. Steady, calm, steps made their way to the elevator, to a button. A smile was persed on his face, as he pressed the "Lobby", button.::

---36th Floor---

Mein Gott!?

::Mary didnt speak german....at least not all of her did. But part did. She dropped the scalpel and screwdriver, and grabbed her project by the hand and immediately made her way to the elevator.

Her "leather", boots clicking and clopping down the hall as she galopped to the new guest, dragging the old guest behind. A mechanical arm and hand, laced into Mary's as she dragged him along.::

Come on Kraden!

::Mechanoid parts fused with flesh, bone grinding against machine, viens swirling past wires...he was being fixed. The mechanical arm led into a mechanical shoulder, which led into a mechanical side, and a plated hit. All were highly visible. Patches of steel and mesh held his exposed chest together...not entirely exposed, but the bloodstained white vest he wore didnt cover much.

His lost toes had been replaced with mechanical clods, and so the two made a sort of music as they trodded down the hall.::

Is it a...

::He said softly, until he was rudely cut off.::

Yes! I new brother! Or sister! Or parts!

::She was so excited.::

---Outside---

::The snow had all but stopped, and above the red-headed figure was a man. Not a beast, a man. He was all too identifiable. A black cloak covered his body and a hood was drapped over his head. Black gloved hands slipped out from within his sleaves, and he was without a face. Rather, the inside of his hood was filled with black, only his left eye seemed to cut through the black like a glowing white knife through a curtain of shadow. The scythe in his hand seemed ever so ominous as it was tipped forward toward the fallen red haired man.

The world had come to a crawling halt. The snow flakes hung in mid air, and all color had faded from view leaving only a bland world of black and white. Spirits weaved to and fro from this place. The dead, the unborn, the fallen. All watched but none spoke...there was silence for a moment. And then he spoke, and as he did, what seemed to be thousands of other voices spoke exactly in chorus with him. A voice without compasion, without pity, without emotion. The voice of an army, speaking as one. The voice of the Reaper.::

It is time. Are you ready?