Samarie didn't quite fit right. In a literal sense more than anything.
Physically, her body was disfigured, the product of experiments with powers far beyond human comprehension, and the folly of those who thought better than themselves.
Spiritually, she practically had no stake on her own soul. Having bargained it to fulfil the mad whims of the Vatican…
Safe to say, she was doing so hot.
Laying on a mound of potatoes, she slumped her head back and tried her best to calm down.
It was going to be a long train ride, and it would be best if she forgot about what happened after her latest dealing with the powers that be…
Samarie's thoughts drifted. Passing as though they were slipping through her fingers, one at a time.
It might have been the stress, the chronic pains, or perhaps even her deep longing calling out to her.
But no matter the cause, she still passed out. Even if she felt something sinister was waiting for her on the other side.
Samarie's eyes snapped open. Nails clawing at the wood in front of her.
This was not right!
Mold was a smell that stunk her nose like a pervading fog. A constant pitter patter echoing at the back of her mind.
Wooden walls that stretched beyond the bounds of sight, piercing through her thoughts. And an orderly series of tables that looked too orderly to be natural.
It stunk of Rher's work…
However, the trickster god was not the only one with the capabilities to do such a thing.
The New Gods…
Humans playing at god, those who wished to be like All-mer, but with just a sliver of the power.
They were false idols.
But they were still strong enough to make their presence known in the modern day.
It made her skin crawl just thinking about it.
But she first had to make it out of this illusion. She had to make sure Marina was safe.
Gritting her teeth, she looked at her surroundings. And Samarie found…
Malformed children.
They formed a factory line, each child handling a step of the manufacturing process as they repeated each task ad nauseum.
But what was it that they were making?
Samarie's eyes narrowed, watching as the children crafted an item.
Bit by bit, it transformed in their inhuman fingers. First it was a sphere, then a cylinder, transforming into a rhombus, then finally, a square puzzle box.
An ornate puzzle box, clicking, shifting, folding. A box which unfolded into something that seemed decipherable.
A puzzle? A key? It was precise in the way that no two boxes were the same, even if they all shared similar elements to one another.
There was something to it that stirred something within Samarie.
But first, she needed to find an ex-
"What are you doing back here, you're holding up the line!"
A voice broke her from her thoughts. Loud, like metal tearing.
"Get your ass back to work, before I whip you into shape!"
Holding a blade the length of her forearm, the denizen of this dreaded workshop approached her. The weapon pointed menacingly at her, as if it wasn't clear enough that she was the outlier.
"Human, what do you think you're doing!?" It snarled, saliva frothing from its lips.
With the way it was stomping towards her…
It was a grotesque thing. Skin stretched too thin, to the point she could see the blood flow pumping through its veins, a steel halo stitched to its back to keep the mangled flesh in place.
A constant smile stretched on its face.
Like a mockery of emotion.
"Slackers make a good sacrifice…. You will be next!" It decided, a dark pit twisting in Samarie's gut.
Then, a very real pain stung the back of her neck.
The mark of Gro-goroth.
In return for the God's favor, she had also recieved a permanent scar on her soul. A call to any being willing to do anything for power.
The crazed look in its eye, gleaming with lust, as each step took it closer. "Die for me, human!"
Samarie needed to act.
A tingle sprouted from the small of her back, as foreign limbs moved of their own accord.
This wouldn't be long.
From Samarie's spine, a tail-like appendage made itself known.
A Bikaku, her blessing had informed her. The first of many gifts she'd received from the gods.
However, despite it, she still cowered from her attacker. She wasn't there for a fight. She just needed to buy herself some time.
Grimacing, the girl ran away.
"Come back here!" Her attacker called out, but she refused to follow the words of a lunatic.
'Keep running, keep running!' Her lungs burned, the effects of the experiments rearing their ugly heads.
Weak, and cursed to stay that way, it would take a miracle from Sylvian to fix what they had done to her.
"You won't be able to outrun me for long, human!" The monster mocked, bringing his blade down onto Samarie's back.
Clang!
Sparks came to life, as the appendage protected her. Repelling harm, as she skid to a halt. Her back pressing against a table.
No matter how fast she could run, there was no doubt this thing would eventually catch up to her.
Weakly, Samarie clenched her fists, bracing herself for what was to come.
Her hands came in front of her, forming a seal. "To inflict harm onto another, an equivalent exchange must be made…"
A chant.
"A pound of flesh for my life, is a small price…" She ducked under a swing, using the bikaku to throw the table in the cultist's face.
"Dragon Scales, Duality, Twin Meteor…" Samarie rolled back, the weight of her words heavy on her tongue. As though the world rejected her following words.
"Hurting."
Her throat grew dry, as blood spilled.
Thankfully, it wasn't hers.
A spiral formed centermass on her target, invisible to all but her.
It spun like a vortex, the world distorting, until it finally corrected itself.
An error made manifest, only to be corrected soon after.
However, in order to correct itself, space had to distort to make up for it.
Cleave.
The cultist, for all its devotion to the gods, didn't have defenses against the otherworldly.
Like a hot knife through butter, one half remained standing, while the top half slid to the ground.
There was no blood, there was no mess.
Only the husked remains of someone who thought too highly of themselves.
Stumbling to her feet, Samarie clutched her head. The influence of the Violent One still remaining strong inside her mind.
Samarie would need to focus, lest she allow herself to devolve into a bloodlusted beast.
She couldn't, afterall, how would Marina react if she found out this was the real her?
"Do it for her," Samarie muttered, brushing what splinters remained on her black dress. She had to look her best for Marina, after all.
Stumbling from the hall, she eventually reached a space that was darker than pitch.
No light came from it, and no light would pierce it.
It was similar to accounts of the ocean. An all consuming darkness with no sense of what was underneath the surface.
Except, it was seemingly the only way to go. Everything trickled down to here, there was nothing beyond this point.
So, taking the plunge, she entered, steadying her breath for what was to come.
Her feet met the floor, all sound void, except for her heartbeat.
What was going on?
Her pulse thrumed like the church's bells, deafening to her ears, until a heavy choir echoed in its stead.
The voices were deep, resonating with the soul. Stabilizing at a frequency, until…
Tall, like goliaths, or the statues of All-mer.
They towered over all the people she'd seen so far. Sitting on chairs that were equally as large.
A council, Samarie's mind supplied. The New Gods, their presence suffocating to endure.
But that meant she was getting closer to the bottom of whatever it was.
One step closer to the object of her obsession.
Marina, wait for me, I'll find you.
Bracing herself, she wandered the halls, passing by great figures, each lost to the annals of history.
Until, she was brought to her knees.
She wasn't tired, nor was she taking a rest.
It was like something was forcing her down.
Pressure built up against her skull. To the point where it felt like she was about to explode.
"No!" She yelled, curled up in the fetal position.
Except, it was futile. As all the resistances she'd painstakingly built up, crumbled against whatever attacked her.
When she came to, it was to an entirely different setting.
A platform, overlooking…
Rher, the trickster god.
It hung before her. The moon, with a skeletal-like face carved into it.
Four empty eyes stared back at her, as the god's mouth was set into a perpetual smile.
So this was the presence…
If a god wanted something, you had not choice but to accept.
And Rher was an Old God, one of those who ruled the Earth long before time began.
"Ah, I see you've awoken." A voice greeted. From a man who looked barely human.
Dressed in a jester's robes, and bearing the face of a man with two expressions. He had an aura of someone who delved too deeply into the occult.
"You… You set this up…" With a dry mouth, Samarie said what was on her mind.
She'd been in Rher's dimension long enough to have the vaguest idea of where she'd gone. But Samarie didn't have the slightest clue as to why?
"My apologies, the space between the inbetween can get quite messy for those like you or me." He said in a sing song tone, a smirk constantly playing on his lips. "But, our God has deemed you worthy of participating in the festival."
"Festival? What festival?" Samarie wondered, clawing at her arm for even a sliver of the answer.
"The Termina Festival, of course." The man smiled a smile too wide, the slide of the face parting to reveal muscle underneath. "The festival in honor of our God. A jubilee of cosmic proportions. A celebration of the divine's gift onto the world. An appreciation for what we have."
From all the text she'd read, she never never heard of anything resembling the Termina Festival, before.
Although, with what recently happened, Samarie doubted it was going to be anything good.
"My name is Per'kele, humble servant of the Delinquent One, Rher. Any questions you may have for my Master shall be passed through I, as our words cannot possibly reach my master."
"What is the Termina Festival?" Samarie asked, almost afraid to hear what the words meant.
"The festival to end all festivals!" Per'kele cheered, "A grand spectacle to give humans a chance at taking a peek behind the curtains, as it were. A chance to grasp at greatness itself."
He spoke as though he'd seen it hundreds of times. And yet, Samarie couldn't shake the feeling there was more to it than just that.
She just wanted to get back to Marina! Where was she?
"The festival has invited fourteen participants, and you are one of them. However, at the end of seven days, only one shall remain," The words tore a pit inside Samarie's stomach, bile rising to her throat. "Be the last person standing, and you shall ascend to heights few have even dared to reach."
"Last one standing? But what if I don't want to participate!" She yelled, clutching at her arms with a vice grip, the bikaku behind her sprouting without prompt.
"Then don't." Per'kele snorted simply, crossing his arms. "Do, or do not. At the end, there is only one outcome awaiting."
"The festival will end, with a victor, or not. As long as there is joy to be had, the festival will have fulfilled its purpose."
It was then that a grin split the man's face once more. "Indulge in the city, under my Master's green hue, all is permitted."
"But remember, once it ends, seek the tower. Claim your rightful reward as a servant of our Master."
Reality cracked at his words. A surprised expression taking over his face.
"It looks like our time is up." Per'kele mimed reading a clock, chuckling at his own joke. "We shall meet again under moonlight. His Grace can only be seen when the sun clears, and only his presence dominates the sky."
The tower crumbled, bit by bit, the floor tore apart. Samarie tried getting onto steadier ground. However, a simple gesture from Per'kele held her in place.
"Goodbye now."
A flick of the wrist, and Samarie was hurtling for the ground, streaking across the sky faster than a star.
Her body shook uncontrollably, her mind trembling as she got closer and closer to the ground.
"I'm going to di-!"
Before she met the tiled floor, she came to.
Heaving deep breaths, as several potatoes around her shuffled under her sudden movements.
"What was that?" She breathlessly pleaded, her question left in the air, as she tried to compose herself.
Despite everything that happened though, she knew she had to do one thing.
Samarie would protect Marina at all costs. Her beloved could not come to harm…
A/N: Fear and Hunger, my old friend. This time with a non playable character whose already been dealt a bad hand, getting 3 straight poundings of curses. It really wouldn't be fear and hunger without them though. Don't plan to make this story very long. Just an enjoyable amount before Samarie levels everything to the ground.
[Komi]
|Severity 6|
You are somewhat mute, making it very hard to speak to others; you can groan, scream and cry, but trying to talk to others is incredibly difficult. You'd be lucky to be able to say a word or two on a good day. You are likely to get misinterpreted or misunderstood.
|Resolve: Acquire Adept Rank Communication skill or intermediate and above charisma or 2 uncommon rank and above reputation boosting traits.|
[Brand of Sacrifice]
|Severity 19|
You are marked with the Brand of Sacrifice on your neck, which constantly draws the attention of the Demons and Evil Spirits towards you like a magnet. If the world you are in does not have evil spirits, they will start emerging to specifically to target you. Whenever you are near an Evil Spirit or a Demon the Brand of Sacrifice will throb to warn you.
|Resolve: Get yourself cleansed with an Epic Rank or higher purification or exorcism effect, roll a rare rank or higher demon affinity trait, change race to Demonic or get 3 rare rank or above stranger effects|
[Wrath of Flesh]
|Severity 20|
Your physical stats are locked; whatever your strength was when you got this trait is how it will always be. Even if you get a mythical strength boosting ability, it will do nothing, nor will training or traits. Your physical stats and abilities are locked.
|Acquire 3 or more Elite rank or above traits that give a direct boost to your physical stats OR get your biology completely remodeled by a legendary rank or above effect|
[Bikaku]
|Rare Ability|
Tokyo Ghoul - Allows you to manifest a tail-like biological appendage made of special RC Cells that allows it to freely go from fluid-like water to tough as steel. The Bikaku forms the shape of a tail at the location of the tailbone and is capable of defending, whipping, and piercing as a giant super flesh tail would.
Acquired from a Gold Ticket
Previously Unlock Achievements:
Survive a direct encounter with Gro-Goroth - Gold Ticket
Achievements Unlocked in the current chapter:
Meet with Rher and the God's servant, Per'kele- Gold Ticket