Flashback :: High Priority Target

The Center Of Emergency Responders headed by Michio Kham, this is where he trains those in in the use of Naten and how to properly protect the planet.
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Savaj Vanguard
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Re: Flashback :: High Priority Target

Post by Savaj Vanguard »

“You kiddin’ right? Yo’ cocky ass don’t wanna’ see me right now..”

-Savvy said planting her shades back on her face and wrapping her locs back into a functional, curly bun. She was vexed as fuck and she wasn’t exactly thrilled to take her pent up demons out on her allies. For her master’s amusement no less.

“And yo’on even know what new toys Cross been keepin’ from you, or the hypothetical file she’s been building on the Jeagur Luminoso.”

-She smirked through her aggressive emotions before leaning back in her seat.-

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Re: Flashback :: High Priority Target

Post by Cross »

Cross stood up in Atra's embrace, inadvertently pushing him back in the process. His breath was eerily sweet smelling and decadent. After getting some distance Cross broke into a stretch, didn't make sense to drop in the field cold either especially if they had to wait to intercept cargo. So why not throw a few blows? Either that or she could get back to work for a couple hours. She couldn't help but piggy back off of Savaj's trash talk with some theoretical scientific bullshit.

"An Anti-Matter distortion field is in the works yes. A type of technology that locks our dimensional grid from interfacing with your 'Shadow Realm' for a certain period of time. Rendering the majority of your arsenal useless."

She spoke through breaths and grunts stretching her now techno-organic limbs.
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Atra Luminoso
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Re: Flashback :: High Priority Target

Post by Atra Luminoso »

"We'll all have our chance to dance eventually." Good luck you two."

He laughed to himself, and excused himself thereafter.

"I'd happily test your technology to prevent unsolicited attacks from the Shadow Realm. Once you all make it back alive. Good luck you two."

Atra took the door, a nice long walk back to Neovia would help prepare him for the road ahead. While The Destroyer secured the border, Atra secured allegiances. It was time he was in play.
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Michio Tribe
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Re: Flashback :: High Priority Target

Post by Michio Tribe »

Vyrin's Theme

Kham let out a brief exhale, and sunk into his highbacked chair. The sun had fully set with the light of Lumin reduced to a soft hum. The moons overhead were align with its apex, and the twinkling stars interconnected all of these great spheres with a streak of luminescent collection. The Moonlight Equilibrium began. The cosmic alignment of all of these gravitational bodies filled Kham with life, paired with an unhealthy dose of anxiety. His spirit was thumping, vibrantly, electric with anticipation paired with great nervousness. His shifted in his seat, and simply restored to stand and gaze out into the world, of all he chose to protect. With all his warriors off to their respective tasks: Cross and Savaj warming up, Atra to his Gala, it was time for The Destroyer to finish this, himself, once and for all. The distrust, the animosity felt by his soldiers didn't leave the room with him. It stayed on top of his shoulders, like a weight, pressing itself down upon him, heavier than anything he had ever lifted. But he kept his back high and supported it. He weighed their concerns upon his heart and with a resound nod, it was time to use their trust in him as power. Perhaps they were right, it was time for this game of chess to end, with The Destroyer at the helm. With his eyes closed, Kham saw through the eyes of The Mother. All of Vescrutia lay before him. Like a bird his eyes flew across the planet, spinning it on a pin in his mind, scouring every inch for his foe. He peered within lakes, through the eyes of rodents, through the lens of stars and the setting of the sun. He saw injustices, of murders, rapes and robberies, all people he wished he could save but he was just one man. He was only one man. But where was that voice?

I am here.

Kham pivoted behind him. It was like someone smacked him across the skull, playfully like a big brother; egoic and condescending.

I've been watching you for quite sometime.

He looked over his shoulder and saw no one.

You are an embarrassment to us. But it is not your fault.

He looked ahead of him and saw no one.

I will teach you.

slowly Kham was drawn to a suffocating presence to his left. That filled this empty board room with power and presence he had never felt in thousands of years. He could smell him first, he smelled like work, sweat, training, contemplation, and drive. Dirt, grime. The scents of war. The Destroyers eyes looked him over. He was dwarfed by about a foot, and a few thousand pounds. Vyrin, The 1st Breaker Far superior in stature and size, but of equal height. A hulkish being of sandstone skin, white hair, and red eyes. Covered in branding marks with two chains hanging from his neck with sigils etched into each. One reading Vyrin, the other read Breaker. He looked upon Kham with a soft sympathetic smile and spoke like the grinding of stones and the crushing of boulders in his jaw as he pushed him with his index finger back, and back, and back.

"The Meru-Ahk Thal. Quis ahlmon, Tu'et Ahk Si?"
The Great Destroyer, in the flesh! Did you think I would hide from you?

Vyrin narrowed his eyes, he could almost smell Kham flinch in confusion as he staggered to the walls of his boardroom, Kham's knowledge of the Michio language, a dead language, was amateur. He felt like an idiot.
"Must I speak to you in this guttural tongue?"

Kham snorted and grabbed Vyrin's massive finger. It felt like a tree in his hands, calloused, and worn by many years of resistance. Only for him to smile in reply-

"You have soft hands. Your Kah is weak."
Kah meaning, resolve, skin, spirit, one-in-the-same. The Michio grew in proportion to the tasks they surmounted. And Vyrin was very unimpressed, so he shoved him again. Kham staggered back a few more feet, but he refused to take a knee and bow to this... this cant be a Michio. He killed them all.

"You're an apparition, an illusion from the horsemen. A figment of the-"
Said Kham in utter disbelief. Though everything about Vyrin seemed real, his diamond eyes, showed his genetic structure was identical to his own, and TJ's. It was like looking in the mirror and not recognizing your own reflection. He was scared, his hands hand't stopped shaking, nor his quivering lips. Vyrin pounced upon his fear.

"I'm wounded, Meru Ahk Thal. I greet you as family. Using our language. And you call me a mirage?"

He paced around the board room. His back was wide as the Alps of Chaos, bulging with cliffside handholds and craggy crevices. He too wore little clothes, save for a pair of cloth pants that stopped at the ankle over his calloused feet that must have walked the surface of the Mother's womb unburnt. He looked out upon Neovia and shot Kham a sharp glare.

"Call her, call the Divine Anima, Daughter of Genesis."


"Call your puppet master."

He yelled, he could handle this himself.

Coward, a word fashioned to sound like spit.

"I can handle this myself."

"Oh! Can you really? If you fail, I will raze this village to the ground. Mercilessly crush every single one of your loved ones. I will finish tasks personally you yourself could not complete, all while wearing your skin, and your mantle. No one would even question it. We are masters of disguise."

Kham tried to find the words, bu this mouth felt dry. Like his oxygen had been robbed from him. He opened his mouth to speak but Vyrin was over the idle chatter.


"Drax Scen!"
Kham belted from his gut raspy and exhausted. Michio ritual Single Combat. Usually only used in the Cenmotori to move up in rank, or used against anyone who wanted to challenge the Master Advocate or The Breaker for Cosmic Right. In this case, Kham could behead the snake before Cross and Savaj's mission. Vyrin's eyes narrowed into a fine smirk, he nodded to himself in approval as if he had witnessed a baby bird take flight.

"You have one hour to prepare. Then meet me there."

He gestured to one of the moons inline with the others in the distance. With a hungry grin, Vyrin looked at The Great Destroyer with admiration.

"The rest of us will be there too." Bring the Anima! I'm sure she would love to watch the third Silent War. A family reunion as you cattle say?"

Vyrin vanished, and Kham collapsed in a corner with his hand to his chest. The massive weight of his presence lifted. Able to breathe. The Destroyer struggled to a stand and searched the recesses of his mind for his connection to The Anima, the source of his strength, his vulnerability. She appeared before him, a picturesque image of beauty encapsulated in the visage of the sky that surrounded the COER base. From her head to her feet were stars, planets, suns and moons, comets thats glided across her belly, and constellations that interconnected her eyes, nose, ears and mouth. Among her radiant countenance was genuine concern, the thinning of her lips and the off axis stance. The past had come back to haunt. And it wanted blood.

"Kham... I"
She didn't know what to say, how to summarize tens of thousands of years of lies into an hour lecture? It would be impossible.

"-The truth would only distract me. Come."

Kham raised his hands in front of his shoulders and Gaia walked over to him cautiously. As she did so, she tore out braids from her hair.

"I can tell you a few things."

"Anything that would help me defeat him?"


"Shame. We'll I'll take a story then."

Gaia began wrapping her braids around Kham's hands, in the rare occasion when his own skin wasn't enough to block blows, or when he was contemplating summoning that terrible weapon.

"Despite their pacifists Nature, The Michio were allowed to keep a very small military. The Breaker and the Cenmotori were the appointed fighting force. Vyrin was the First Breaker. He invented everything you know."

"He never died?"

"Only disappeared, dissatisfied with Michio Orthodoxy. My divine decree."

"Which was?"

After his hands were wrapped, Kham sat down in a char that materialized from the floor. Gaia began wrapping his feet in her sturdy braids.

"A caste system. In order to limit the amount of super powers, I decreed that Michio were to be made, not born. And upon birth they were drafted into categories, with their abilities specialized to a certain purpose, hence his name, Vyrin and his modifier, Breaker. All unsanctioned births were to be destroyed."

Kham sighed again and let his eyes rest upon the ceiling. Vyrins children were torn from his loins, and destroyed in front of his eyes. Gaia continued nonetheless.

"He thought all Michio should have the chance to grasp their inner potential, so he founded an organization hell bent on loosening Michio legislation, this group was simply called the Devout."

"And now he wants me dead, because I murdered his family."

"Vyrin cares for the Michio with all his heart. It's this passion that makes him strong."

"Stronger than me?"

Gaia simply chuckled under her breath.

"No one is stronger than you."

Kham would laugh, if he believed it.

"What is Kaah?"

"Your skin, your resolve."


He stood and walked over toward the view slowly the climate control windshields, keeping the room cool against the subzero temperatures, began to lower flooding the room with frost, sleet and hail. The Destroyer lowered himself into a track runners stance.

"The truth... when I return."

Kham said, and Gaia nodded. She could tell Kham was surprising his rage, of being lied to his whole life. But was channelling it into his Kah, his resolve. That only tightened the wraps around his hands and feet. With a burst of impetus, Kham launched himself toward the moon.
This is a pen-name account which writes from the narrative perspective of:
Michio Kham, T'ajsa Michio, Gaia- The Divine Anima, The Devout (and its members)
Michio Tribe Lore

Everything posted by this account is official property of ©Vescrutia2018, no reproduction, or reposting of this content identical to or closely resembling is allowed.

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Michio Tribe
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Re: Flashback :: High Priority Target

Post by Michio Tribe »

Drax Scen Theme

Beneath that floating promise land, that oasis in a wasteland, a wonder of engineering, magic and divinity, the The Khralaessara was their demise in the form of a young boy whos every limb, finger, and apendage was bound, strung up and stretched to uncomfortable contortions. Hunger, and thirst were his only thoughts. Misery, pain and confusion kept him company. Every now and then he would cry, and his mother Zaraya , demi-god and beauty would rush down beneath The Mother's skin to soothe him. She would sing songs to him, share with him tears, for countless hours. Only for his Father, Ragnar The Fifth Breaker to tear her away, to protect them both. Both parents didn't want their son, one of the first unsanctioned births to be treated this way, and the boy only wanted an explanation. But there wasn't one. Yet how could you be arrested for a crime you didn't commit? For one hundred long years did he exist in suffering. His crime? Being born. The Meru Ahk Thal, the child of prophecy that would bring about the end of this magnificent yet peculiar people. Everyday that passed Kham would remember a stirring, a fury, a burning hot passion that grew exponentially larger. The more he fought with Gaia's divine power did he realize that, perhaps it was her that tore his family asunder. He had other inuqiries besides this, but never before did question it. It was in the past. He would just let it go. But today, the past came to haunt. But never did he forget those days, Kham didn't forget anything. He just buried it. Like he did the Khraleaessara. He buried all of it. And now he was to kill more Michio? The answers to his past, the hope for his future lie in front of him and it didn't want anything but blood. Could he not plead his case? Among stars the Michio flew. Their glistening beauty fell hollow upon his cold heart and heavy head laden with thoughts of genocide, murder, redemption. That orb of a mass of rock approached in the distance. Kham touched down upon it with a soft tap. He had left instantly, the only thing he had to prepare were questions.

"You came early? You must have questions."

Called Vyrin who appeared in front of him seemingly out of thin air, flanked by other figures that were equally tall, muscular, brown of skin, white of hair, and red of eyes. They each wore very plain robes and garments that modestly covered their sensual parts. Kham was never one for fancy clothes, he wished he could find humor knowing it ran in the family. They numbered in 30. They were Michio through and through. Eerily enough, Kham was stunned, he was tingly all over, electric with surprise. He could feel them all, the catharsis of a family he never had, that he had laid waste to lie before his eyes. The others stood around Vyrin, his own Cenmotori. Tools of Warfare.

"HA! You shield your Kah in the Anima's hair!"

Whispers of the word Pthraa echoed among their ranks. Kham just curled his lips. The Cosmos Destroyer, that terrible weapon burned his hands to the bone. This was the only way he could hold it as the weapon never truly felt his.

"Meru Ahk Thal? Como Thiix"
Whatever She said sounded like she was spitting coals , the one who was taller than Vyrin, with one eye, and a scar that ran down the length of her body, bisecting her muscular figure in two, elicited a smirk from Vyrin and a laugh among the others. The Alhm' Tongue a gift by the Primodial Scholars, let Kham speak all languages. All, known languages. Not dead ones. It was frustrating how they spoke in their native tongue about him, throwing his past in front of his face, constantly reminding of his intentional ignorance. Kham let their laughs befall him, while he wondered what in The Mothers earth could permanently scar a Michio so deep.

"She says you're smaller than your brother."

Kham was floored, his eyes were agape, why imprison him and liberate his sibling... he had a-

"It's a figure of speech. Etuum, he's all of our brother. But you, Meru Ahk Thal are a direct carbon copy of him, down to the toenail. It was why your mother and father were never supposed to breed, why any unsanctioned birth was forbidden really. A genetic contingency in case we broke the Ayma Dharva- The Divine Law. Any one of them could turn into you, rabid beasts that would destroy us. It is of this slavery, this oppression that we broke free, and stand among you Devout."

Before Kham could say another word. Vyrin sat upon the moon's cold surface. The other Michio behind him spread out in a circle locking them in an arena.

"Come. Sit. You are family. And for that, and only that. I will tell you what the Anima omits. Before I kill you."

Kham preferred to stand. But something in Vyrins glare, piercing down to his soul made it seem like the longer he stood, the more Vyrin considered this an insult, and that he would happily skip straight to the fighting. So begrudgingly, Kham sat.

"Where did she get that scar. Training?"

"Who? Maael? Ha! No. Her scars are a small part of the reason why I'm going to kill you. Maael! Maael!"

She was obviously deaf in one ear, Vyrin was practically screaming to get her attention. Maael, responded with a grunt as one of the Devout to her left tapped her, then gestured toward Vyrin.

"Tus Kah! Meru Ahk Thal comsci tus Kah!"

How did you get your scars? The way Vyrin said it made it seem like it was a casual question tossed around in some Michio training camp. The would compare scars, and speak of conquest. The devout, closest to Maael, whispered in her ear. And she nodded, to only reply one word.


Kham knew nothing of the word. But it's sound seemed to anger the others, but only relax Vyrin. With a breath he begain.

"She got the scar by fighting a Djou'Vik. And it roared in her ear, permanently rendering her deaf. You have one in your ranks that we would like to get rid of. Savaj?"


Kham replied.

"She's just a psy-"

"No. A Djou'Vik. A dragon Dhvani, who can reduce continents to ash with a flap of their wings. You can smell our imprint on her cant you. Our sigil? The icarus pact. Something Maael almost died for."

Savaj really didn't give a fuck, and changed in front of Kham numerous times. There was a sigil imprinted on her body that looked like the same script that Kham himself used to teleport, use his awareness and other things. Without the knowledge he dare not remark upon it, he figured her for a Golem- A michio hybrid race. Not this Djou'Vik that Vyrin spoke of. With a sigh Vyrin continued. This was going to take a while.

"You have much to learn. But its not you fault. But how much you learn depends on how skilled you are at asking questions."

"How many of you are there?"

"Ah! Spoken like a general. Estimating our numbers. But this question avails you nothing in the end. It is your past, our past that makes you the most curious. So ask about that instead. But, an honest question deserves an honest answer so... 500? Right? Sii?"

Vyrin gestured to another Michio across the ritual circle, this one was the smallest of the bunch no taller than TJ, she was... literally a child? Her eyes squinted, and she counted her fingers in deep thought, eventually he nodded and Vyrin nodded back.

"About 500. Using the Chorno Chakra powers we extrapolate from Djou'Vik DNA, we can see into the short future. And foresaw Ragnar and Zaraya, your mother and father's sin. We saw how they would be unable to kill you like they did our children. And so we went into a deep hibernation. We were much larger, until what you sit upon happened."

He tried to not look surprised, but some magnetic force brought his eyebrows up toward the heavens. 500 Michio survived that day? Impossible. All full grown? Battle hardened? And thirsty for blood? How could he stop them. How. Calmly, Kham persisted.

"What I sit upon."

"Use your eyes Michio. Peer into the depths of this moon... see what we see, feel what we feel. This moon is where The Ghost Wind and The Fourth Breaker almost killed us."

Kham's eyeys struck a fierce blue glow, and he peered into the depths of the surface he sat, he was taken aback by what greeted him, this place was a graveyard of Michio skeletons peppering the core of this moon in the thousands, a body count far more impressive than his on the planet.

"Why would anyone defend The Divine Law?"

He asked next, from what Gaia explained. The Devout's purpose was rather just. If their ambitions were just to be free from those restrictions why would anyone disagree? Unless Gaia's mind control was that invasive.

"Oh they didn't. You see Meru Ahk Thal, The Michio are born from this planet's loins, the remains of Etuum incubated in her womb. Who else can oversee this planet's protection than us? The Michio are the alpha, apex predators. Everyone else? Cattle. YOU, ally yourself with Cattle. And it makes you weak. Steel sharpens steel Michio, and you keep company among rusty swords. Makain descendants they may be, but you know in your heart they are less capable than you."

"Then let me stand among you together we can-"

The Devout laughed, they picked up on the common tongue easily. Vyrin almost fell out of his seated position. He waved the masses to silence, and continued.

"YOU? Among us?! As equals? And forgive you for murdering my family? OUR family? Never. If you best me in Drax Scen you will have to defeat every single one of us thereafter. And more of us awake out of hibernation by the day. Our intention to kill you, and take back ownership of the planet from The Mothers weak pillars."

There it was then. Vyrin was unwavering in his resolve, he was angry Kham slayed the Michio. It was time to make amends. Kham stood up from his seat, Vyrin as well and the two began stretching.

"Who is Etuum."

He asked mid stretch. Vyrin replied honestly, and in kind.

'Our primordial Ancestror, the Titan Dhvani. Created by Gaia to purge Vescrutia of Desolation, The First Horsemen after they expunged those children from the planet. It was written in our lore that Etuum fell in battle, but we made contact with him through much struggle and strife. He did not fall. Gaia murdered him, after he "out lived his use"."


"HAH! There you stand wrapped in your puppet strings and you call me a liar? What is it you feel every time you hold that terrible weapon? The burning of your hands is not because it is not your own, or that is heavy...Its because you're swinging it the wrong way."

Vyrin began pacing the outer rim of the circle with Kham in the center.

"I... what do you-"

"It is the dying will of Etuum that cries out to you! For you to slam his maul into the face of the slaver than took his life! You ignore it!"

"The Anima she..."

Vyrin yelled to his Devout, Kham flinched and took a stance. Nothing was coming his way, but Drax Scen had begun, and one by one the devout on the outskirts of the rim began slapping their hands upon their hips and knees in a hypnotizing rhythmic chant , with the youngest one carrying on the primal sounding chants.

Kham was stunned. There was so much culture he was missing. Locked away in those hedrons he could never open. The throaty, dry, screams sounded like raging beasts. An animal more fearsome that Kham had ever experienced. He could hear their pain, their loss in every slap, in every cry. Something he channeled into every one of his strikes, expressed on the physical plane. In song. It was beautiful. Vyrin paced around Kham like a predator stalking it's kill. His shoulders laxed to a drunken sway, the music stimulating his primal instincts.

"The anima is a murderer, a hypocrite. And, she's pregnant. After I kill you, I will have your son. Show him the ways of a proper Michio."

"You... My..."

He was having another child? If only he could contemplate this further, but Vyrin was charging his way. For the firs time in his life, Kham thought he was going to die.
This is a pen-name account which writes from the narrative perspective of:
Michio Kham, T'ajsa Michio, Gaia- The Divine Anima, The Devout (and its members)
Michio Tribe Lore

Everything posted by this account is official property of ©Vescrutia2018, no reproduction, or reposting of this content identical to or closely resembling is allowed.

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Michio Tribe
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Joined: Wed Nov 07, 2018 10:57 pm

Re: Flashback :: High Priority Target

Post by Michio Tribe »

He had a son. He was going to be a father? He had a-


Vyrin slammed in to Kham with his right shoulder, the shock electrified his body. He had never felt anything like this. He had never experienced this level of pain. Infinity kicks, hellfire, blasts from the son. Even his own blows paled in comparison to this level of impact. With one hit, every joint was thrown out of place, and back into place like the seismic shifts of the planet below. He enjoyed it, it called to him. It set his jaw and forced a smirk, resolved to enjoy this last moment. His wrapped feet, standing on the braids of gaia, glowing white with celestial stars spangled among them braced him against his constant pressure kept him upright against this animal. Kham dug in with both of his hands repelling Vyrin away, his heels dug into the moon, into the past. Into the Michio Genocide. Vyrin had given himself to the rhythmic chants of his forefathers, their ritual combat song fueling his strikes, taking over. This had to be ‘Reckless Abandon’, a fighting style created in the absence of form, structure, a fighting style only for those who were born impervious to damage. A fighting style of absolute self sacrifice. Vyrin drove Kham into the moon, turning Kham’s upright sturdy back into a piece of furniture to be sat upon. He wanted him to use all his might to drive him down, he wanted him past the point of no return. So that he could spin away from under Vyrin, causing him to plant his face in the past with The Destroyer above, left fist cocked back. It was called the Global Fist. The Legendary Punch. It’s deeds and misdeeds were heard throughout the planet, it hit its mark in Vyrins right cheek, sending him sprawling across the ground, only a few feet? Kham challenged him and ran across the radius of the ritual circle. Keeping the pressure on. The slaps and chants hypnotizing him into a focused fury. The Devout on the outskirts of the circle effortlessly stood danger close to these nuclear punches without waver or stumble. Truly, his family was remarkable. Birth defect or not he was Michio, Vyrin said it himself, he was family. And Drax Scen? Was just where family settled disputes.

Vyrin was up in an instant showing no wear and tear from a punch that severed the heads of lesser men. No. He charged again in a blind reckless rage. Kham pivoted out the way to his left, while ducking under Vyrins trunk of an arm that washed overhead. He wanted to follow up with a takedown of some sort but he couldn’t move. He was caught in some invisible force. His body was paralyzed. It was the Aftershock, the gust of force that came with his charge, a comet circling past the planet, a tidal wave of a man that rendered him immobile, the consequence of choosing to stand in the wake of a Michio. Vyrin capitalized and spun on his heels, he palmed Khams face with his right hand and drove him into the moon. Over and over again did Kham strike Vyrin’s forearm with his braided fist, the hair of Gaia tearing away at his skin, melting away his craggy exterior. Roar after roar, yell after throated yell did he scream and pound away at this meaty gavel with quick untraceable strikes. The Mahk Fist, a technique of quick furious punches each as strong as at the global fist. He had to have let loose about a hundred. Vyrin was simply enduring, preparing, for one terrible blow. His left elbow raised overhead and he brought it scything down upon Kham’s neck. Kham screamed in howling pain. He left knee impacted the back of Vyrins head which sent him rolling off of into the corner again. He felt lighter which was good. He could get up easier. He just didn’t want to look at the damages. He already felt it. His right arm was severed from his torso, discarded among the arena. An offering to the Devout. A piece of their family's murderer.

Vyrin slowly rose to his feet, and with an abrupt twist, he snapped his neck back into place. His eyes opened for the first time since the fight began, he looked among the circle, his eyes fell upon Kham and noticed his foe looked a lot thinner than before. He almost looked surprised like he had just emerged from a coma.

“I see, you let me push you around earlier.”

Kham had no reply but breathy pants. He was tired. Oh so tired. And hurting all over. But Vyrin too had scars all over his arms. They just seemed accessories to his regalia of battle hardened experience. The Devout leader stalked the outside of the arena, Kham stood firm in his stance, ready to fight this to the death. The chants continued, in its third cadence transitioning from a furious song of battle to a silent hum, a rhythmic series of hums and stomps like the beating of Khams fleeting tired heart.

“Do you Yield Meru Ahk Thal?”

He spoke, full of energy and youth despite being 10 times Kham’s age.

“You’d kill me anyway.”

“I would. You must die. My peers would see it no other way. You are a murderer after all-”

The emotions of being blamed for something he had no control over her, by a family he always wanted exploded from his throat. Tears fell from his cheeks and it Vyrin's prowling step came to a halt.

“Give us the Anima then. Kill Gaia, and you may join us.”

“She holds my son.”

“He will be salvaged and be whole still.”

“And my daughter?”

“That thing?! She must die. A child of a Michio and some otherworldly calamity. Pfft. How dare you make such a thing.”

“My cousin? The Ah’Kyr?”

“What rational minded Michio fucked a plant!? He will die. They all will. We began life on this planet, it will remain that way. Give us the Anima and we will accept you into our ranks. Is this proper payment?”

Vyrin asked his peers who stopped chanting. One by one they weighed the toll. Gaia was to be blamed for their life of restriction, sacrifice, the countless children butchered and taken from them, slavery imposed upon them, their ancestor killed at her will. If she died. Surely The Great Destroyer too can be liberated. Pure blooded Michio only. They agreed.

“They agree. And do you? You have no ties to those people. They are cattle Michio, they only drag you down, make you weak. Imagine how much stronger you would become if you stood among your real family. Shit Kham, the only ones who can resist the Horsemen’s temptation stand before you! EVERYONE down there is a liability. We’ve seen the future. We know of the forthcoming curses. Listen to me. Summon the Anima, and we will take the fight to the Horsemen.”

Kham let the contract befall him, it brought his eyes to the floor. Michio were always beings of contracts. And they held nothing more sacred than a promise, and their family, God bless the one who interfered with either of those. Again Kham’s commitment to his code ran in the family. He had no time to cherish that revelation. Sacrifice his daughter? Cousin? Mother of his child? For absolution? He would do it in a heartbeat.

“I… I cannot.”

Vyrin looked offended, and slightly confused.

“I will ask you one last tim-”

“NO! I… I cannot betray the ones that trus-”


And Vyrin’s fist lodged itself in Kham’s gut elevating him off the moons surface a foot or two in the air. A spinning back kick later, Kham was sent rolling across the ground.

“You have the gall to deny MY generosity? Do you know how many people I’ve killed? Who begged me for mercy? How many of MY own brothers and sisters I’ve snapped in half?”

He took a fist full of Khams hair and brought him to his eyes and spat in them with such bullet like force, Kham went blind in one eye.

“You insult me.”

Vyrin slammed Kham’s face into the ground once more, he jumped into the sky and placed both of his knees into his back. He stood up thereafter with Kham in his titan sized hand.

“A waste of time.”

And slammed him back on the ground. Vyrin walked away toward his end of the ritual circle, there were no more chants. No more cultural cries echoing from the Devout, just reverence for The Breaker. Pitty for The Great Destroyer.

He yelled. Pain in his words, insulted that a Michio, blood of his blood would choose a foreign half baked family of hybrid bastardized sheep than one of his own. Gaia was right, Vyrin loved Vescrutia, he loved his family. And Kham’s disregard for his offer wounded him. Shakily, did The Destroyer stand. Broken to his very foundations, cracks and bruises all over his body. As Kham drew a stance, Vyrin cocked his head to the left. Grossly offended.

“You give your life for cattle.”

“I love them!”

Kham struck his braided hand against his braided foot, the quick friction between the two blows, akin to a match against the rubber set them both aflame with a crimson intensity. The Gaia Force. Even his severed arm grew back near instantly. There was a fiery passion in his eyes, a hollow facade, he had no idea how long he could keep this up. Vyrin had no weaknesses. Still the flames burned bright, and the devout around the ritual circle took a collective step back. This terrifying power brought their like minded family asunder. In it they saw the sins of the Ghost Wind, of Rite, of Zaraya, of Etuum… Vyrin still looked disgusted. Kham exploded from his position and slammed his fists into Vyrins forearms that covered his face, the burning Cosmic Braids lacerated at his skin, skinning him alive but he did not falter. After reading the punches he grabbed one of Khams fists in his hand, then the other, cupping them like a mother would overwhelm their child's face, and locked him in a grapple. The Destroyer couldn’t win in this area. He jumped his feet up and shot them forward into Vyrins chest forcing him free. Mid stagger, Kham leapt toward his foe with a terrible haymaker which Vyrin took to the face, the braids of Gaia and the Cosmic Fires tearing away at his cheek. Again he followed up with an uppercut to the belly, and another, and another, and another. Again- the Mahk Fist. Vyrin just roared, he stomached the blows, and brought his gavels above his head only to slam them down upon the back of Khams head sending him face first into the moon extinguishing the flames. Knocking The Destroyer unconscious.

“I will take everything you are, everything you own. Become you. Become better.”

Vyrins eyes struck a silver glow, that terrible technique, Carbon Infusion, governance over the fabric of creation was at work. The Devout on the outskirts of the circle did the same as they extended their hands to Kham. Pieces of Kham peeled off of his flesh and melded with Vyrins own terraforming his Kaah into The Great Destroyer. Naturally Vyrin had to get smaller, leaner, younger, but his tenacity and resolve remained the same.

“I hate this part.”

Vyrin/Kham brought his heel up to the heavens, and brought it scything down upon Kham’s skull, but the explosive aftermath was not from the killing blow no. Something was peppering the moon with a steady salvo of cannon fire.
This is a pen-name account which writes from the narrative perspective of:
Michio Kham, T'ajsa Michio, Gaia- The Divine Anima, The Devout (and its members)
Michio Tribe Lore

Everything posted by this account is official property of ©Vescrutia2018, no reproduction, or reposting of this content identical to or closely resembling is allowed.

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Michio Tribe
Posts: 56
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Re: Flashback :: High Priority Target

Post by Michio Tribe »

Followed by the repeated cadence of thunderous war drums which rhythmically melded with the cannon fires hypnotic palpitations. They peppered the moon so, drowning the scene below in thick, constant smog and bathing them in concussive explosive blasts. Out of space itself emerged the source of this divine intervention, Ascension Reborn, a grand space pirate ship. It was an average sized ship, only 80 feet long from bow to stern, 40 feet wide looking every bit like a thin needle. She had three masts that pierced the heavens above with glistening golden sails that drank in the sun’s radiation. Upon the central masts was the crows nest of course and atop it was a tiny flicker of crimson red T’Ajsa The Pirate Queen, The Ships Captain, adorned in a white fleece that she left open, a pair of high waisted boots, a very short pair of black shorts, a cutlass she kept loose in its scabbard and a head full of wiery crimson hair. From this vantage point she could see figures in a circle positioned around two in the center. One of those had to be Kham, the one in the middle looked a lot like him too though. But she could tell the difference, they were connected still. Despite his transgressions she could feel his life force fading and needed to get him out of this. If for nothing else but their daughter.


She shouted her orders down below to her cannoneer, Zultan. He was a bearded stocky man, who looked as old as Kham should be. He wore decorated boiled leather armor and held two giant mallets in his hand. “YES MISTRESS!” Zultan received the order. He sat on the main deck of the ship surrounded by an ornamental set of timpani. He wielded giant mallets that he tossed around like twigs, and continued to thunder upon the sturdy hides of his drums with a seasoned musicians poise. Despite the nature of his position, he heard his queen loud and clear, and sustained the salvo by the beating of mighty drums.


T’ajsa continued, the ship's wheel, adorned in dark, finely varnished wood and gilded accents appeared to be moving on its own and turned the ship around leveling all its giant cannons toward the ritual circle where T’ajsas husband lie, clinging to life. By the time Zultans cadence was complete, the moon was drowned in a sheet of black smog which in the following moment was awayed in a furious primal scream of concussive force rocking Ascension Reborn by her foundations. Vyrin and The Devout at the center covered in ash absolutely unharmed.

“Interlopers! Vandalizers!”

He sounded very much upset. As he should be. This was a gravesite. Sacred ground. Holy ground. Consecrated by the spirits of the deceased. Vyrin looked toward his Devout, Maeel gave him a firm nod and he nodded back as they backed away into nothing. This was hi burden, his interruption, his Drax Scen. He had to handle it himself, and they all agreed. Their withdrawal was no abandonment, just affirmation of his ability. Despite their flattery Vyrin growled in annoyance, their help would be invaluable stalling these interlopers while he finished the Meru Ahk Thal.

“Intruders on Drax Scen must die!”

He bellowed toward the ship. The Pirate Queen yelled a battle cry and pointed her cutlass toward Vyrin, Zultan thundered upon his Timpani and cannons flew toward the moon. Vyrin got all the more enraged. He let out another scream. You could hear it in the cracks of his voice, the pain he felt at the Pirate Crew for launching artillery at a grave site. A scream so loud his ancestors heard him.


Out of the moon's surface itself flew silver ethereal wisps, The Pirate Queen’s eyes got wide at the sudden reinforcements. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” She couldn’t believe it. Zultan persisted with the salvo, but only in vain. These were no mere sprites. Upon closer inspection she saw the wisps had faces, features, identical to the Michio. Devout Michio never know rest, they can never be reunited with the mother after severing their connection to Gaia her very existence acts as a barrier to the afterlife, but they will forever protect their own. With otherworldly strength the wisps assaulted the cannonfire detonating and deflecting the blasts away from their graves and from Vyrin by the same property. There was a maniacal smile of satisfaction on his face. Proof his cause was righteous.


Vyrin kept the galleon in his sights, and took a stance. He drew his left his back, T’ajsa narrowed her eyes and drew breath. Something huge was coming. She leapt from the ship toward Vyrin and drew her sword, Righteous Fury, it’s long silver blade etched in foreign script, its scabbard encrusted in jewels.


She howled and zultan clung to his drums. With a mighty roar Vyrin launched a haymakers fist toward Ascension Reborn. Nothing seemed to happen for a while, until T’ajsa positioned the flat side of the blade in front of her face and caught a destructive invisible force the radius of some spatial meteor. She tried to push it back, shove it off, but like it’s owner Vyrin, it was persisted. With a mighty grunt she tried to deflect it clean away from her ship but it took off a few masts in the process sending them hurling the depths of space.


She looked back at the damage, distracted. Vyrin was upon her with another airborne haymaker homing in on her face. Her cutlass, Righteous Fury intercepted the blow in kind, shaking the foundations of the moon and her ship, the latter of which was blown far back out of cruise altitude, the former was nearly dislodged from its cosmic alignment. Vyrin was boiling over with passion, steam leapt off from his skin and his eyes were washed over with the clear white anger of a frenzied beast.

“You’re spit. A chuck of cosmic bile. The afterthought of Babylon. The fecal matter of a dying world. Livestock. Cattle.”

He screamed, laying into the Queen with poison laced words who was eerily composed.

“You’re fertilizer for my conquest.”

He said again. T’ajsa just yelled, and shoved Vyrin away a few feet and pointed her cutlass towards him. The wheel of Ascension Reborn spun a full 180 degrees and aimed its bow toward Vyrin, it was pointed at the tip much like her blade perfect for ramming ships, the figurehead was was the statue of a decorative serpent with two heads and open mouths. From them emerged two small miniguns. Zultan brought his mallets down upon the drums to a sustained silent paradiddle and peppered the airborne Vyrin with a spray of small pellets. T’ajsa vanished toward the surface of the moon. Vyrin roared in protest as the constant barrage of pebbles tore and ripped at his flesh, the hot steam of the salvo bled from his skin covering him in a ghastly blanket of white. Hoping that would hold him for even a second, The Pirate Queen drew ever closer to The Destroyer who upon closer inspection was iced over at the toes and fingers. His unconscious state shut off his Naten supply and his hard earned resistance to the cold.

Floating above the elusive queen, trapped in a bulletstorm Vyrin flailed his arms out revealing glowing silver eyes, the bullets stopped in their tracks. The ones that followed also stopped they seemed to be blocked by some invisible force, in the next moment they too looked iced but in actuality, Vyrin usesd carbon infusion to cease their momentum entirely. Zultan tried to overwhelm him, but he only ended up in adding to the mass of crystal that Vyrin was collecting. He searched for The Interloper, grunting his head this way and that, the ghastly veil of steam persisting around him, oozing out of his fresh scars. He found the Queen who was heading for his kill. With a murderous poise he brought his eyes toward the ship and extended his hand compressing the salvo of bullets into a elongated javelin. Once finished, the makeshift weapon dropped into his hand, and he drew his arm back, keeping Ascension Reborn in his sights. While he solidified his aim, T’ajsa landed upon the moon's surface and saw Kham for the first time in thousands of years. Age did him so well even in this pitiful broken state. It was hard to believe that a man of such great power was bested this easily. She shook her head violently trying to remove the thoughts from her skull. Pity later. She hoisted his unconscious body up on her shoulders and motioned to head to Ascension Reborn but Vyrins sights were hell bent on blowing it out of space.

She looked toward Kham, unconscious. Barely clinging to life.
“Sorry baby.”

And she threw the multi-ton man toward his assailant. Vyrin drew back, but before he could deal a killing blow to the ship, and possibly all its crew he was smacked in the back with some extremely heavy object which sent him reeling in orbit. The freezing, unconscious Kham was intercepted by T’ajsa thereafter, and the two warped back to the deck of Ascension Reborn.


The magic wheel turned again, the old wood groaned, the pointed end of The Ship put Vescrutia in its sights. From behind the ship white hot gusts of flame burst forth from the thrusters which sent her hurling into its orbit. Vyrin righted himself in space, dazed from the unexpected collision. He extended his palm toward the ship and mumbled something under his breath.

“Nova Cosmic…”

A purplish black energy collected in his palm the size of a coin, his eyes oozed black steam, which also seeped from his open cuts and wounds-


Shouted a young voice from the moon. The Devout reappeared on the planet's surface, Scii, the youngest appearing of the bunch roared in protest. Vyrin looked down at them, and at Ascension Reborn making much headway leaving his sights. To fire a blast that far would eventually collide with The Mother, and probably destroy the planet in the process. He drew breath, the smog from his body evaporated, his eyes filled with red pupils again. He lowered himself back down to the planets surface.

“We tried it your way.”

Scii said, Maeel and the others nodded.
“Now it’s ours turn.”


Vyrin agreed. He was no commander, they were a family, a unit. They took orders from each other. He touched down in the middle of the circle. And hung his head in shame, he failed single combat, failed to stop simple interlopers. One step farther away from summoning their brother Etuum and having vengeance against Gaia.

“What would you have me do?”

“First, hold your head Michio.”

Boomed Maeel, the others replied with a affirmative grunt. She stepped toward Vyrin and lifted his head high with her index finger.

“We find the anima. We take his boy. We sit upon his throne.”

He nodded. The ethereal wisps of silver feel into ranks around them turning their 30 into hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of restless souls, alive and dead who simply wanted their planet back.
This is a pen-name account which writes from the narrative perspective of:
Michio Kham, T'ajsa Michio, Gaia- The Divine Anima, The Devout (and its members)
Michio Tribe Lore

Everything posted by this account is official property of ©Vescrutia2018, no reproduction, or reposting of this content identical to or closely resembling is allowed.

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Michio Tribe
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Re: Flashback :: High Priority Target

Post by Michio Tribe »

Nothing but blackness surrounded him, an infinite expanse of dark emptiness that yielded no echo or whisper. The ground beneath him, if you could call it that was solid enough to lie on. But not comfortable enough to sleep upon. It felt much like Cross’ condensed space, when she defied the laws of this dimension, treading upon reality itself. But he didn’t feel like he was somewhere else. Kham felt very familiar with where he was. He could feel his eye lids parting, his body hurt all over, a tinging pain in his shoulder, and an electric shock down to his tail bone. He placed his hands beside him to stand, the ceremonial braids of Gaia were gone but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need the now. As he forced himself up a sharp pain punctured his middle back. He winced, and sighed; It hurt far too much to stand. This familiar place felt peaceful, and there didn’t seem to be any immediate danger about so why not just be here for a while? And he did lay for a second, than a minute, until she appeared, and he realized where he was.

“You held back.”

Gaia’s voice, all encompassing and imposing yet smooth and choral-sounding, like song birds and flowing rivers entered the space. She appeared above him, skin awash with constellations, hair white and glistening, face yielding no sympathy or disappointment. Conversations between the two of them, like this, used to happen all the time. It was then, Kham realized where he was. He was inside his mind. Deep in his subconscious. Time to leave. His body flickered, quivered and vanished, but reappeared instantly where it was, the pain came next. Attacking him all over again. He couldn’t just step out of his mind? Was he imprisoned here? Some sort of technique?

“You held back. He’s not stronger than you. No one is.”

Of course he held back, so did Vyrin. He could feel him pull his punches. But that didn’t change the fact that Kham deserved this. He murdered his family, and it was time he was punished for it. He wouldn’t kill another Michio again. But he didn’t need to hear this from Gaia, he still had to stop The Devout from infiltrating the Nightmare. Time to leave this place, and silence Gaia… yet nothing moved. He breathed in and out again, trying to wrest himself from his subconscious.

“Let me go back please.”

“I cannot.

“Gaia, let me go-“

“Maximum Break. A technique invented by Vyrin to kill Michio.”

Kham groaned again, and the visions of his circumstance appeared before him. Taunting him, haunting him. Vyrin appearing inside of COER, towering above him and imposing. Their single combat on the moon among ritual chants, until his fist hammered him on the back of the neck, and after that, nothing.

“He broke the connection between your mind, body and spirit. Maximum Break. In short, you’re unconscious. Forever.”

“Unconscious? Where is my body?”

He wasn’t dead. He would know. Would he? Is this death? If Gaia was speaking with him he wasn’t dead. Was he? Kham had never been unconscious, he had never come close to death. Sure he’d been mortally wounded before, the scars were testaments to that. Again the visions of the past filled the space: he tired to shut his eyes to them, his past, but the sounds could not be muted. A child, with white hair and red eyes throwing himself recklessly, murderously and angrily at everything enduring what came his way. An assassin in black, The Shadow Boxer skewered this boy effortlessly with attacks from another realm capable of passing through solids. Cadences of the younger Kham fighting against the world played repeatedly, Gaia’s voice layered underneath the visions.

“You’re alive. Someone rescued you.”


Kham tried to sit up, but his body wouldn’t move. The visions around him of his past, his regrets assaulted him from all sides but if he could listen close he could hear her voice. A soft shout of desperation, someone was calling him. But the visions tried to drown her out, cloud him with regret. Kham shut his eyes and reached into the depths of his mind, he drew breath tried to center himself but the visions of his misdeeds got louder and more obnoxious. They increased in speed, fast-forwarding through the long years of his life, growing louder by the second. It was irritating! He screamed for it all to stop but it just kept aggravating him even more. He belted out a sigh and lay there still. it was true… Vyrin hit him so hard his mind, body and spirit were having a civil war. Maximum Break. It all made sense. You could break a Michio into pieces, but if there was sufficient organic material they could stitch themselves anew, but if you stunned them? And then killed them? They wouldn’t return. Maximum Break.

In the depths of this despair he heard the voice. And he could feel Gaia turn up her nose. Kham tried going to it, but he winced in pain, it made his body hurt more. So he instead lie here and breathed a heavy sigh of relief, knowing that his physical body was in the most capable hands.


Gaia replied, with a tone that could cut steel. It could only be one person. The Pirate Queen. Come to collect her daughter. And just so happen to have a sliver of humanity to save him from certain death.

“She saved you.”

“She shouldn’t have. I abandoned her.”

He did. Left her with child. Called back to The Mother on shallow promises of power and knowledge. Bits and pieces were given to him.

“I made you.”

She did. Knowing Vescrutia needed her Pillar. Knowing she could cajole him with prestige.

“And I fell for it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. Truly. You are inheriting all my sins.”

“And what do you propose I do, kill my family again.”

“I propose you wake and come protect your son.”

“Wake me.”

“I cannot. All of my power is being used to nourish this boy. He will be the last to inherit my abilities. The rest I’ve given to you in addition to the ceremonial braids.”

Kham could care less for the gifts. The braids were a very handy accessory. Striking the intangible, scar the invulnerable. But again, Gaia was hiding something. Kham needed to get to his son.

“You speak as if this is your last will and testament.”

“… Vyrin comes for me.”

Finally, Kham didn’t care. From what he was hearing, Gaia was all to blame for this. She, the influencer behind the genocide, and the murderer of their common ancestor, the Titan Dhvani, Etuum, the First Michio.

“So be it.”

“Your lack of empathy is justified.”

“Of course it is. You killed our ancient ancestor. Oppressed our peoples, used them to carry out your agenda, and forced us to live with your sins. Even now there are things you hide from me. Things you refuse to tell.”

“And what do you wish to know.”

“Everything, from the beginning. The Truth. And show me.”

“I can’t. I don’t have enough power. I can only tell you, and you must trust me.”

“I’m going to be here a while so, I suppose I have no choice.”

“You must reconcile your despair and wake Meru Ahk Tal.”

“I will not harm my family. I deserve to die for the murder of our kin.”

Gaia grew silent. As did Kham. His eyes peeled open as the memories of the Michio genocide played out before him. Events he recollected countless times. A young boy, screaming at the top of his lungs, struck defenseless brown bodies, causing them to burst into diamond dust. Kham winced. He hated watching this.

“You need nor harbor my sins Kham.”

“Yet here I am, forced to bear their responsibility any how… Every unplanned birth would turn out like me? Like Etuum?”

“And lay waste to the Michio yes.”

“And every unplanned birth was slain by the Master Advocate.”


“Where are the bodies?”

“They became That Wicked Blade.”



“Vyrin seeks it.”

“Unless you wake he will have it.”

“I can’t. I don’t know what is right or wrong. And I need to know the truth. You must show me all that happened.”

“I can only tell you.”


“Then listen well, as this is the last conversation we will ever have.”
This is a pen-name account which writes from the narrative perspective of:
Michio Kham, T'ajsa Michio, Gaia- The Divine Anima, The Devout (and its members)
Michio Tribe Lore

Everything posted by this account is official property of ©Vescrutia2018, no reproduction, or reposting of this content identical to or closely resembling is allowed.

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The Pirate Queen
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Re: Flashback :: High Priority Target

Post by The Pirate Queen »

“…Wake up Kham, Wake up. WAKE UP!”

There was something about him lying there unconscious, toes, fingers, and hair frozen that took T’ajsa back to a place most vulnerable. The lump in her throat, the gloss of liquid that covered her eyes, filling up at the cusp, where one blink could make them run over was all from those times they spent together, hundreds of years of bliss together, conquering the stars. She wasn’t queen then. But he was her king. And how he was unconscious? How. T’ajsa shook him. Smacked him. The latter made her hand sting. But nothing. Surrounding her were all her loyal subjects, all members of the crew, the strongest sources of freedom across the galaxy. All helpless.

“Swipe steal his cold! We have to stabilize him.”

“I- Okay.”

Came a voice of helplessness to her left, a shorter boy, the smallest of the group with a head of feathers and pale white skin wore an all black hoodie and khakis. Swipe and the others surrounding him all wore the same gaze, they knew there was nothing they could do. Kham was one who did the saving. They didn’t have the slightest idea on how to bring him back from this. But maybe warming him up would help. He kneeled down next to T’ajsa, his queen. A woman he would fight and die for, unless she ordered them to stay on the ship while she threw herself in harms way for a man who abandoned her! But… later. He held his hands over The Destroyers body, and he took a deep breath. Kham’s toes and fingers, crystal white and blue from the cold vacuum of space leapt from his skin like tiny grains of sand and onto Swipe’s own. Kleptokenesis, the power to steal the qualities from anything and take it as your own. Swipe, and Boost, the slender, pale skin, notched earned crewmen behind him, in the circle were of the same tribe of intergalactic thieves. Slaves really. Bred on their home planet and used as mercenaries throughout the galaxy. They were very affective at near any avenue of application. And warming Kham up was the shallowest use of Swipe’s abilities. Swipe and Kham used to spar all the time, just so he could steal his strength away.

“Look, its not helping. See? He’s dead. Breathing but dead.”

A gruffy, throaty, nay-sayer spoke up from the outer circle. Invested in the fate of the Pirate King, but pessimistic all the same. The Pirate Queen paid it no attention, she was watching the color go back to Kham’s toes. Swipe was far too focused on making his body a vessel for the extremities of cold. Being a thief of this sort was a give and a take. The conditions he had to endure to make sure he could steal extreme weights, temperatures and other qualities made his body a malleable shell. He had to be focused and had no time for Brute’s typical negativity.

“So what he can feel his toes now, he’s not gonna come back.”

Brute was a shirtless chisled man of muscle. He was skin of cream with a long black ponytail that dropped to his lower back. Shirtless with a pair of denim jeans on, he was the Pirate Crew’s strong man, until Kham arrived. He’d been bitter since, and felt very much replaced. But to see his rival unconscious made him feel fragile. Knowing that if he set foot in the ring with Queenie, he would surely die.

“Silence Brutus.”

The authoritative dad-voice of Zultan. Always a pleasure to hear even when he was cursing you out. Zultan had been with The Pirate Queen the longest. He was the only one who called her T’ajsa, and even said they were from the same planet. Wherever that was. Not only was he the maker of the ship, but fought in nearly every engagement. He had no love for The Destroyer. But was invested in his queen’s happiness, he shed a tear.

“Don’t entertain him Zultan. Reggie? How are his vitals.”

“Um. Pardon me Swipe.”

A figure awash with green scales, reflecting the rainbow spectrum of light and the stars kneeled down beside Swipe. Reggie was a Bio-Path. Capable of manipulating organic material, very similar to Kham’s own Michio abilities. They served as the crew’s medic. And failed to deliver a prognosis on this situation simply because it was just… incalculable. Reggie peered deep into Kham’s body, through all that craggy exterior on the outside and saw, again years of perfected evolution, after thousands of years of his absence he was awestruck. The life of the universe paled in comparison to Michio genealogy. Every atom, sinew, muscle tissue looked hand stitched, battle worn and adjusted to be the ideal weapon. Gaia was a craftswoman. And yet Reggie could do nothin but sigh, the news was the same. He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued…

“I… My Queen-“

“What? Is he getting better? We warmed him up.”

“His temperature is, stable. Yes. And his heart is still beating steadily, But-“

“Just spit it out man. We’re all fucking adults.”

Chimed in Brute from the rear. Reggie looked behind him toward his overbearing, tall and savage comrade then to Boost, Swipe’s mentor who was simply silent, fixed with a permanent grin.

“There’s no neural activity.”

“Wake him up.”

“I’m trying to connect his neural pathways. But they won’t stay connected long enough to transmit thought. It’s like his body wants to remain fractured.”

“But his body doesn’t want to stay cold.”

Swipe spoke as he stood up from Kham, hands a deep blue, frosted over. He fanned them out and sprayed the ice all over the deck.

“His body betrays him. He needs time.”

Zultan resigned to say, and he dismissed himself from the circle toward the helm of the ship. It was only moments before they entered Vescrutias atmosphere someone needed to ensure she touch down safely. Collectively the group sighed until Boost stepped forward and lay his hand on Kham’s chest. The Queen, Swipe and Brute were all stunned. Usually Boost didn’t do anything without orders, he was always staring off Into space. After a few moments he just nodded and finally spoke.

“His heart wants to come back. His body is afraid, having never known pain like that before. His mind is caught between the two. And his soul knows he should stay down.”

Zultan stopped in his tracks. And nodded to himself too. Kham just needed time to find his resolve again. Brute was of course the only skeptic.

“How the fuck do you know?! You can grope a man and figure al that out?”

Even Reggie couldn’t believe it, or justify it with science.

“I do detect inconsistencies in his nervous system but, I’m at a loss as well.”

“There’s no time to take time. We came here to get TJ and get out.”

The Pirate Queen silenced the speculation with their objective. Her daughter. Her princess. She stood up and let Kham lie there looking down upon him with soft eyes of fear and pity. She had bigger problems. Like where her daughter was, she didn’t want to get involved in this family reunion. But one way or another, she was apart of it.


Zultan was observing Vescrutia through a spyglass, and was looking deep into Vescrutia in their sights, growing larger and larger by the second. His precision eyes, spotted something very peculiar.

“Did Vescrutia always have atmospheric defenses?”

“No. Why?”

“We have incoming.”

“All hands on deck!”

Snapped the pirate queen, and the rest of the crew sprung into action. Brute, Swipe, and Reggie ran toward the bow o the ship. Boost stood still over Kham with his hand pressed to his chest. He was always a few steps behind the others.

“They look like, shooting stars?”

“How many?”

“I can’t say, its closing in terribly fast.”


She yelled, climbing her way up to the crows nest, she peered into the distance. A cluster of twirling white energy headed straight for them. Some anti air cannon? Brute could just tank it and bitch about it later. With a grumble he ran onto the pointed end of the ship, and failed his arms wide open while the rest of the crew braced for impact. The collection of energy instead bent around the savage and 3 ghastly figures, with masks of strange glyphs, composed of stars, comets, and other celestial bodies positioned themselves around Ascension reborn, totally interrupting it’s momentum.

“We’ve been halted my queen.”

“No shit.”

She wanted to say under her breath, but she knew Zultan was just keeping her updated. These figures did not seem threatening. They also lacked any sort of eyes but you could tell they ere looking at Kham.

“The King of Beasts has fallen?”

They spoke In unison, sounding breathy and disembodied.

“The Who?”

The queen replied unsure of what they were talking about.

“The King of Beasts has fallen?”

In the same tone they replied. They neared his body collapsing upon ascension reborn like a three fingered grip. The Pirate Queen grew righteous fury from its sheath and pointed it toward the figures. They halted I unison. T’ajsa was glad they didn’t want a fight.

“You wont take him!”

“It is not your choice. When the King Falls, the scholars choose a new successor.”

“He’s not dead!”

“But unable to fulfill his duties.”

“His what?”

“Come… We will take you. To his throne."

The entire grew was thrown to the ground, save for Boost who looked up and marveled at rapid passing of pretty light streaks all around the ship. T'ajsa clutched Ascension Reborn's mast. And Zultan cradled his drums for dear life. They had been hijacked and were being taken somewhere rapidly, toward the surface.
The Pirate Queen also RP's her crew! Here's their appearances!
Swipe- Thief
Boost- Thief
Brute - Bruiser
Zultan- Cannoneer
Jerry - Medic/Butler

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Michio Tribe
Posts: 56
Joined: Wed Nov 07, 2018 10:57 pm

Re: Flashback :: High Priority Target

Post by Michio Tribe »

Under the infinite expanse of stars, a glitter wash of crystals in a sea of black mass, glistening and unique, varying of age, alignment and power did the Devout convene upon their sacred ground: One of Vescrutia’s many moons; a former battlefield, and a graveyard. To any, it looked like an ordinary space rock, littered with craters, having been dashed against the other moons in Vescrutia’s figure-8 rotation. It was bleak and dreary. Cold to the touch as any moon would be. It was gray as well, covered with dust and ash from the cosmic debris that makes its way into Vescrutia’s atmosphere. It had a certain Sheen and polish to it despite the dated weathering, having been exposed to heat from both of The Mother’s many suns. But as The Pirate Queen demonstrated, this uninhabited moon was very much alive, this was sacred ground, haunted.

Beneath the feat of the 23 Devout, underneath the space rock, invisible to the eyes of lesser men lie bodies ontop of bodies. Precious skeletons. Genetic material more valuable than gold. The offspring of a titan. Michio. While their bodies were testaments to the work of the Ghost Wind, splintered and broken, if their graves were to be disturbed is threatened their spirits would rise. The Devout were charged with a burden heavier than any Michio could carry. To uphold their legacy, perpetuate their ideals and make manifest their vision: The Michio were supreme. Rulers not servants. This is where they and the orthodox Michio differed. Where they and Gaia differed, an ideal by which much blood was spilled.

Here upon this sacred ground, they stood in a circle, literally perched atop the shoulders of the countless fallen laid to rest by The Ghost Wind. Around them stood a near endless number of ancestral wisps, collections of silvery white glistening smoke in the likeness of Michio- the broad nose, the hair of wool, the near permanent leering stare. But they began to dissipate after a while into the moon, feeding into it like a small stream. These were fallen soldiers of The Silent War, the ancestral burden that motivate The Devout so.

In a circle they stood, some looking off into the distance as Ascension Reborn made off with their vindication. It was only seconds after The Pirate Queen interrupted Drax’Scen and plucked The Great Destroyer from Vyrin’s grasp. Here they stood. 23. Vyrin in the center, his body still flayed by cannon fire, fuming purple smog, skin folding, twisting and contorting, terraforming into The Great Destroyers’s likeness to sit upon his throne. He especially leered at the wake of That Ship. The Rage of Etuum blinding him! He could see nothing, but he could smell his query. The Meru Ahk Thal, week and fading, afflicted with Maximum Break, practically begging for the kill. Vyrin didn’t pant or snort like a raging beast. He didn’t even breathe, he was a fuming silent exhaust of perpetual power.

“Be still… Vyrin.”

The cool hand of Maeel fell upon Vyrin’s rigid shoulder. Vyrin jittered at its calloused, yet cool touch. His shoulder once thick and mountainous was becoming a lot smaller to fit Kham’s inferior stature and Maeel’s hand gripped it completely. A familiar sensation brought the rage to a calm, and naturally, the rage in Vyrin subsided within him, the purple smog of the Nova Cosmic dissipating, the sun emerging after the calming storm. And of course, the ‘Vents’ in Vyrin;s skin began repairing itself. The cracks in his forearms, the crevasse in his hide, repairing, containing the energy for later use. With a deep exhale his vision returned to him, he was no longer blinded by the Rage. The Nova Cosmic was a tricky in that way. Unlimited power blinded, corrupts. But he was among family. He looked around at the Devout. 23. A congress most sacred in Vescrutia’s grand design. They appeared hooded in peasant robes, disguising their faces from The Destroyer but now they could all be themselves.

“Well? Let us begin.”

He sighed on his final breath. And the surrounding Michio took a seat upon the moons surface kicking up small tufts of dust in its wake. They all undid their disguises, an amateur use of the manipulation of organic material but it worked on lesser men. Like a spool of yarn did their likenesses reveal themselves one by one and a collection of sandstone faces with red eyes remained. Vyrin backed out of the middle of the circle and took a seat among his family, next to Maeel. They were used to each other, comfortable in one another’s presence. With a simple gesture she could bring him out of his tendency to sulk.

“Who will keep the circle?”

Vyrin asked to his family, and member of the Devout, previously disguised completed their natural aesthetic. He was a much older man, hunched over with a beard of white cotton, and skin of sandstone. Wrinkly appearing sagely and wise. No means older than Vyrin, yet his Michio Kah had chosen to evolve him in that way, lessening the body to further hone the spirit. Much respect was given to Samoosa. He served on the Council of Elders, responsible for many sanctioned births and furthered the agent of the Devout under much scrutiny. It was only natural for him to speak up in this tumultuous time.

“I shall.”

He declared, speaking the Ahlm Tongue- the native Michio language of frequency that allowed them to speak to all things. It was a resonating tone of quakes and tremors, the striking of coals and shifting of sands. Samoosa scanned the faces of the others briefly, a few he recognized, others he did not. Especially the child, Sii was it? Samoosa did not fight the silent war, he rarely fought at all. He was very much considered an orthodox Michio, playing both sides of the fence to further their collective agenda. He wept that day as his family clashed, but knew in his heart that Michio were not meant for a life of servitude. He exiled himself after The Ghost Wind cut down thousands, most of The Devout did, most Michio did. But as the years progressed he could sense the presence of The Devout among the mothers skin, this was their first meeting with all of them present in hundreds of years without fear of The Ghost Wind’s wrath. The Anima was weak, The Great Destroyer blind, there was nothing for them to fear anymore.

It appeared there was no objection to him leading the circle of confidence, and why would they? This was Samoosa, his reputation spoke for itself. So he continued and spoke the initiating words.

“Now let us speak our truth.”

Now they were bound. A ring began to form on the outer edge of the circle, inch by inch it was drawn econmpassing the 23 inside its binding social contract. The 23, Samoosa included placed their middle fingers upon their palms. With a collective inhale and exhale, they laid their hearts bare. Miniature circles formed around each of the 23 and branched lines, carvings, glyphs in complicated artistic fashion, each of these 23 designs were unique yet complementary as each of The Devout were writing out their topics of discussion should words fail. Yes the Ahlm Tongue allowed them to speak to all things, but emotions were so complex some words failed- this is where the Michio Written Language- Glyph’s succeeded. It’s arcane applications gave those words life and altered the physical and spiritual plane but here? It ensured the accurate interpretation of emotions we’re captured.

Samoosa, was the circle keeper this time. It was his job to interpret the glyphs and moderate the discussion.

After the circle was complete, it looked like a series of complex designs, a mosaic of line art with 23 different circles on the outer rim of a much larger circle. Samoosa looked at the intricacies with narrow eyes in concentration, nodding to himself, analyzing the curves, the designs, geometric and never before seen conveyed much disagreement between their order. The Devout had much to say, but to make sure this didn’t was done in an orderly, restorative fashion, there needed to be checks.

“First, let us remind ourselves of our values.”

On the outskirts of the circle, from the moon, the grave, emerged crystalline pillars with single glyphic inscriptions at their center. There were 10 of them, imperfect In their construction, none looking quite like the next. Like emotions themselves, the skin of these obelisks was rough, jagged, white and inconsistent. They enclosed the inner 23. These were the core values of Michio beliefs: Truth, Honor, Integrity, Experience, Care, Sensitivity, Trust, Creativity, and Laughter. When the circle was activated no breach of these beliefs would be tolerated.

“And now, to begin.”

He extended his hand out over the circle, it was jittering with old age. The sight of Samoosa this way made Vyrin curl his lips. If the Michio body wasn’t put to use it caved in underneath its own weight, sure you could use Naten to compensate, but Samoosa was from an age where it was illegal to use Naten in a way the Master Advocate could. His circumstance made Vyrin weep on the inside, and judge him secretly for not pursuing the Devout sooner, but he was happy to have his knowledge of their practices all the same.

From Samoosa’s seemingly frail, wrinkly palm came a single crystal about an inch in height, it was set a flame with Naten: green, crackling, and magnificent with power. The crystal floated downward into the circle and traced the Naten upon the intricate lines giving voice to the glyphs below expressing raw emotions.

“First is Sii.”

The young Michio, the Youngest of the Devout who was only recently thrown into hibernation before The Meru Ahk Thal lay waste to the tribe. She nodded to herself while maintaining her meditateve state. It was always uncomfortable to have ones ‘heartstrings’ interpreted first. The Michio were always an honest people, brutally so but the circle of confidence was more than brutal honesty, it was raw emotionally charged telling of ones personal convictions.

But Sii was fearsome, the spark that kept the flame of the Devout burning. She took a deep breath and to Samoosa, consenting to be the first. Her heart strings were jagged lines and revolving shapes, speaking to inconsistency yet strong opinions, as the crystal ignited her lines aflame her true voice was heard in the heads of all the circle encompassed.

“Vyrin held back against The Meru Ahk Thal, and would sooner lose control of that Sacred Power than see him destroyed. Regardless of the opinions of our ancestors, The Destroyer is the murderer of our family. He must suffer.”

Murmurs from the pallet of sandy brown faces, a grunt from Vyrin. Maeel stayed silent. New information was offered, and so existing opinions shifted. Samoosa rose the crystal from its position, and the glyphs rotated upon each other, some shifted their script entirely save for Vyrin’s. You could tell by his scowl, unwavering and firm, that he anticipated this criticism. Samoosa, by the lowering of his wavering hand set the crystal upon the heart strings again and set it ablaze with Naten, this time the crystal took a divergent path, one connected to Sii’s own glyphs a response to her emotional woes. These originated from a thin woman, a face pointed like the end of a dagger, with a lush head of hair and crimson eyes who had watched The Destroyer very closely throughout his life- Nina, her Michio name, Nansa. As the crystal continued to translate the script, Nina’s heart was given life.

“It’s natural for you Sii, a refugee of the Khralaessara to feel frustrated at this development. We all weep for you and the sacrifice your parents made to seal us all away until this time. But no one survives The Breaker. Vyrin perhaps noticed that contrary to our beliefs, the Ancestors forgive The Destroyer. They accept that he is another pawn like us, who should not be destroyed.”

Nansa shot Sii a warm glance, and it was halfheartedly received. Sii being the youngest barely knew these people save for Maael who was a mother to her. She looked upon Nansa, gaze unflinching, sensing she was being belittled with her words. Her facial structure and permanent airy glare made it seem like she knew more. But if the crystals sensed any dishonestly, they would silence her heartstrings. Sii was a child yes, fueled by rage who wanted nothing but to avenge her fallen parents. But she too often forgot the point of their campaign, to abide by the wishes of their ancestors. Again the crystal rose from the ground, some of the glyphs shifted. Most stayed the same, their questions were consistent, or conveyed agreeable with Sii. After Nansa, came Sheala. An older Michio by the looks of it, but still younger than Vyrin and Maael.

“Even if we cannot kill the Meru Ahk Thal, he is not our priority. It is the Anima that bars us from The Mother.”

None of the glyphs shifted, so the crystal persisted along the heartstrings, they were all in agreement, the Divine Anima, The Offspring of The Prodigy of Genesis had to die.

“I will take this task, and retrieve the Magus.”

Spoke another Michio, with a very wide face, strong cheek bones and hair that seems to grow out of his face. He looked every bit like a lion- he was Gideon, The Exile. None seemed to disagree to his volunteering, none were more capable than he to slay a God, so the crystal continued, the heart strings seemed to disappear save for Vyrin’s who opinion hadn’t wavered in the slightest, finally it was his turn.

“I am sorry to have disappointed you Sii. To see your vengeance be swept away on some wooden crate must have hurt you. But the ancestors are clear, The Law of Erosion still stands. A Michio mustn’t kill another. The Meru Ahk Thal is forgiven for his crimes.”

Out of Sii’s on circle splattered glyphs, but she took a deep breath and retracted them thereafter. Nansa couldn’t withhold her glance, young Michio were such balls of energy. The crystal had yet to finish tracing Vyrins words to completion.

“He will thwart us at every turn. And we will stop him at every turn. He thinks his family of hybrid monstrosities make him strong. Blood is thicker than water.”

Resound grunts and nods from the congress. Samoosa silent of course, too busy interpreting the raw emotions that spoke volumes while lips were closed.

“He will recover from Maximum Break.”

Intersecting lines burst from one of the Michio to Vryrins strings from multiple directions, hijacking the conversation. It was Maeel, always the strong silent type, deaf to normal communication but very sensitive to the frequencies of the Ahlm Tongue.


She proclaimed.

“The Breaker is Absolute-“

Said another.


Rebuked Samoosa, and the crystals on the outskirts of the circle began to glow. As emotional flares died down, and with a heavy heart Vryin continued. The more he spoke on the issue the more disarmed and surprised he became. He nearly sounded ashamed.

“The Great Destroyer is chosen by the mother, he is an anointed Pillar, touched by one of her children. He is blessed. Protected. Entitled.”

“And by that same measure he will be broken Vyrin, Pillars rise and fall like the sun. Rite. The Ghost Wind. Qhorm’m. To be a pillar is to die young. To life a life of opposition.”

This sliver of great wisdom came from Sheeba, a Michio who chose feminine features, she looked as old as Samoosa but conditioned her body during the loosening of Divine Law to optimal physique as to stand among her brethren.

“But still, he-“

“He shall fall. The Michio are the beginning and the end. We have the power to punctuate life.”

None contested her wisdom. It appeared the Circle of Confidence was concluded. But it was customary to ensure no feelings were hidden.

“Closing Remarks?”

Questioned Samoosa. But none spoke.

“Very well, the circle has concluded. Let us be off to our respective tasks, and live for the dying.”

“Live for the dying.”

They said in unison, and The Silent War 3 had begun
This is a pen-name account which writes from the narrative perspective of:
Michio Kham, T'ajsa Michio, Gaia- The Divine Anima, The Devout (and its members)
Michio Tribe Lore

Everything posted by this account is official property of ©Vescrutia2018, no reproduction, or reposting of this content identical to or closely resembling is allowed.

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