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Ants among the Flowers(IC)


Ari

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GM

The keypad was directly beside the elevator door only a few feet past the checkpoint itself, the guards ignoring the two supposed officers now that they were sure neither was suspect. The chimaera was a little harder to persuade, staring silently at the pair with non-reflective eyes on its lengthy head.

The keypad was a simple 3/3 arrangement with the zero under the 2. It had a glossy black finish and silvery highlights, and a small insignia on the lower-left corner that held two parallel red bars joined by a threadlike gold strand. A small camera was set just above it looking at whoever was typing it, revolving at an agonizingly slow speed if one bothered to actually look at it.

The floor right in front of it was covered by a blessedly soft purple carpet on which was a complex pattern that bore the rune raidÅ in a serrated series of diagonal ranks that criss-crossed the small carpet.

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Myrmidon shook his head. << Sending an exterior communication would be akin to shooting a flare. All it would serve would be for the to easily locate us when they triangulate the transmission. One moment, I think I know of a method to gain access. >> The clone hero tapped his comm-link, putting it to broadcast on the command channel.

<< Sir, Flay and Groan here. We are currently about to search the South Facility but Commandant Burkehardt has voided protocol and not changed daily codes, again. How do you wish for us to proceed? >> His impressions of the real officers they were imitating being sticklers for details and operations would hopefully pay off, along with the small but noticeable schism between the tech and magic management of the base. Certainly the real officers would had better use of their time than bothering with memorizing week old passwords.

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GM

The voice that spoke in placid reply to the message from the phony Flay was, as usual, like John's own without his warmth and feeling, each word flowing smoothly together into the next without regard for grammar or emphasis. <> with a short tone the message ended.

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  • 3 weeks later...

It was not often that Myrmidon gave into his baser emotions, but currently there was a smug grin underneath the helmet as he punched in the elevator code. He switched back to Blodeuwedds' and his private channel. << Bureaucracies. >> he answered to the unasked question with a disdainful snort.

<< It seems that this Commandant Burkehardt might be showing signs of rampancy, so be on your toes. Sometimes the cloning process has...quirks. >> The helmeted hero replied to his current ally, as he pressed the ornate floor button once the code cleared.

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GM

The elevator was commendably quick and smooth. The interior, in contrast to the hallways had wood paneling and a mural depicting a mostly nude Nordic man punching a giant as he leaped down from a precipice. After a wait of a few seconds they landed with a soft thud at the bottom. The doors slid open to reveal a dead silent hallway, which branched off into other hallways at the ends. Lights shaped like runic sentences(most of them saying simply "I bring light") lined the ceiling. A clone soldier walked up to the pair of supposed officers <<"Hello officer Flay, officer Groan. Welcome back to Commandant Burkehardt's wing, I have been requested by him to escort you to his sanctum, as he believes there may be a slight impurity in the magic he has affixed to you.">> he bowed slightly, and both Myrmidon and Blodeuwedd could tell that he sounded surprisingly young, and almost...eager <<"If you are here for an inspection, I will of course be happy to assist you in that first. If you require no observers, merely say so and I will depart.">>

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Blodeuwedd switched to their internal communicator, hoping that it was as secure as Myrmidon claimed.

<<â€It might be worth accepting this guide, there are bound to be magical related traps between us and these Giants. I can detect them, but I’m probably not going to be able to disarm them all. But of cause there is a chance that he could rumble our ruse, well I could, my lack of knowledge is probably the weak link in this plan. You seem to know these people better than me so I’m follow your lead.â€>>

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  • 3 weeks later...

The counterfeit Officer Flay acknowledged the new arrival with a slight nod before looking to 'Officer Groan' << We need to 'finish' the inspection and then I was informed to report to the Commandant about his ongoing violations. If something does go wrong we do have cause for self-defense. But somethings feels wrong here, be on your toes. >> 'Flay' turned back the aide and switched back to the external commlink. << Inspection? We have reported intruders and are scouring the base. Get your men set to securing this wing, and direct us as to the Commendant. >>

Something was off here, between a clone commander who did not follow protocol and the schism between the departments. He gestured to the aide to lead on, as he kept a wary watch on the surroundings.

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GM

<<"Not to worry, officers, follow me.">> the clone said heartily, leading the way rapidly down the hallways marked by a patchy and frequently scraped-off purple line, the halls it passed through all strangely empty <<"I doubt the intruders could get this far into the base on their own! The Doctor has unleashed his new assassin into the vents, the Cyborg should bring the heads to the meeting hall in just a few hours.">> he declared confidently, halting before an oak door that clashed terribly with the metal that surrounded it. Bowing before the portal he removed his mouthpiece and called out "Commandant! The officers are here!" There was an interminable silence before a familiar voice sounded behind the panels, saying "Good. Let them in, Fuchsia, then assemble the guards at all known exits and entrances. Nobody else must be allowed into this wing." Bowing again before giving a discreet and very un-Overshadow friendly wave and a smile before donning his helmet's mouthpiece, Fuchsia sped away, sword fixed on his thigh.

When he was out of sight the door swung open, revealing the clone in the more loose attire with a rope in his hand attached to the handle, staring down into small vase that reflected in that unmistakable watery way onto his cold face. The vast but crowded room was mostly dark wood and bright stone and neat as a pin, a massive bookshelf with color-coded tomes and slates covering one wall, a large bench filled with metal, wood and stone odds and ends that Blodeuwedd could tell at a glance were based on known mystic relics of the past, and an incongruous bank of computers squeezed next to a narrow metal staircase, on which were innumerable security feeds. A small circle of runes on the ceiling gave the room a gentle, even lighting to the place.

Once they had stepped inside, Burkehardt said crisply, still watching the vase of water "Welcome, brother! It has been too long! You should have visited months ago." He turned for the first time, and gave a horribly real and welcoming smile to Myrmidon, ignoring Blodeuwedd entirely. Raising a hand he added "You should have copied the rune onto yourself if you wanted to escape all notice. A good effort! The Overfather would be proud of you."

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  • 2 weeks later...

The jig was up. Myrmidon knew that their disguises would not last, but at least it gave them the chance to eliminate one of the base commanders. However, it seemed like this iteration of clone stock had had retained a flair of the dramatic and egocentric tendencies from the original. Had he been in the other clones shoes, he would have just had the pair ambushed and shot on sight instead of this parley.

"I am no fool. Application of magic text to skin without knowledge of its effects is reckless at best, suicidal at worst." Myrmidon walked forward a bit, halfing the distance between him and the commandant before continuing.

"As for the Overfather as you call him, I will throw him down and smite his ruin across the remnants of his broken empire." The statement was punctuated by the clone hero leveling his pilfered weapon at the commandant followed a heartbeat later by the signature whine-bark of blaster pistol discharging.

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GM

Commandant Burkehardt opened his mouth to say "I do not think that is a wise plan, brother, you s-arrgh!" he cried, clutching his chest as his face almost became a rictus of agony, the horrible sound and smell of flesh burning under an energy bolt clear even to the pair wearing their helmets. Sinking to the ground, he stared up with an eerily calm expression, though blank irritation gleamed in his eyes.

He opened his mouth, and after a few short, painful gasps, he mechanically asked "Why? We would not have killed you if you had revealed yourself. We want the same thing as you. Only your comrade" the blue needles swiveled over to Blodeuwedd "would have needed to die. To secure our secret. None must know we are down here. Our great experiment must proceed, if we are to stand against the Overfather."

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Blodeuwedd had been expecting trouble for a while; she’d already had a hand on Dyrnwyn ready to draw the sword.

She hadn’t expected Myrmidon to be the first to act. Whilst she had suspected he’d had acquired knowledge about the organization, until now she hadn’t know it was because he’d once been in the organization. But she didn’t have time to react to this information as the other hero decided to take matters into his own hands.

As the shot was fired Blodeuwedd sprang into action, she dropped her disguise and as her cloak once again unfurled around her she activated it special cloaking ability fading into the background.

“It’s a touching family reunion, but don’t I get a say in all this?â€

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  • 2 weeks later...

John spared a nod in Blodeuwedds' direction. "Yes you do."

Turning his attention back to Burkhardt, Myrmidons' tone was ice cold. "As for you Brother, you seem to be confused. I care not for your reasons. You are just another rampant clone with delusions of grandeur. You see, there will be no place for me as well when I am done with Kantor and his ilk, being a soldier without a war." Myrmidons' aim shifted slightly, as waited for the commandants' response. "Now. Tell me where the civilians you have abducted are and I will not prolong the inevitable."

It was clear the commandant no longer considered parley a viable option, and the clones' response was an abrupt "Very well," followed by the blaster pistol discharging again.

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GM

"I am not allowed to say."

Burkehardt got back to his feet, looking blankly at Myrmidon as he supported himself by one rigid arm on the table holding the vase. "Any further information will compromise site security, and run the risk of revealing us. Our experiment must not be halted or discovered." He looked for a moment at Blodeuwedd before adding "All clones here are so programmed, even commandants. Questioning for specifics is fruitless. My greatest work."

Shrugging his shoulders he removed the long jacket, tossing it over a chair as he examined the burn mark in his shirt "I will of course defend myself if you attempt further violence. This is as far as I can help. I am sorry, brother" he added blandly "but all I can say is..." his face contorted as the shot blazed into him before suddenly it was smoothed, and the clone stood silently.

The blast left a smouldering wound, which didn't help with the smell of burned wool and flesh.

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  • 2 weeks later...

She understood that Myrmidon must have major issues with this organization in general and this individual specifically. But they still needed answers and this guy was probably there best chance to get answers.

So she suddenly appeared right in front of Burkhardt the tip of Dyrnwyn mere millimeters from his Adam’s apple. Her face, shrouded in the shadows of her hood, showed a grim determination. Her arm didn’t waiver one bit as she stood there.

“My friend here is inclined to kill you, and I’m quite inclined to allow him to do so. But then again I want to know the full extent of your plan. Tell me everything and we’ll keep you alive, even clones must value there life…â€

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GM

The Commandant shivered under the sudden threat, and words flowed forth "We have shorn the souls and legs from giants, making war machines that cannot be stopped by one art. The people will be turned to cyborgs, silent knives sent into the upper world!" he blinked, and his eyes hardened "Idiot Agate, he told me threats could no longer work...curse your useless science, brother!" Burkehardt glared up at Blodeuwedd "As soon...as soon as I get my limbs to obey me, I'll spit you both on lances of Ymir!"

As he spoke, a faint chill began to grow in the air. Outside, the sounds of marching feet could be heard. The bank of computers hummed away with an electronic drone, reflecting passing squads of clones and wolves loping at their sides, strange arms waving from their backs.

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Myrmidon leaned over the fallen commandant. "You have stood on the shoulders of giants and thought yourself tall, only to learn otherwise when you strode blindly forward and learned the consequences of your hubris. Auf Wiedersehen, brother." The blaster pistols' report was surprisingly loud but he did not flinch, as his deadly intentions were focused on sending the insane sorcerer on his way to Valhalla.

"As I suspected. They have used the missing people for human experimentation and they are and will be no longer the people they once were." He did not face Blodeuwedd as he said that, nodding at the sound of the oncoming troops. "Next objective: destroy this facility."

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GM

With a wet thud, the beheaded remains of the clone slumped limply to the floor. As he fell, his left hand glowed softly, and suddenly a piercing warning resounded through the disguised heroes' helmets. It was in German, but the tone was unmistakable to Blodeuwedd. <<<"ALERT. COMMANDANT DOWN. ALL EXITS TO THIS WING SEALING. TROOPS SEVEN AND EIGHT, APPREHEND INVADERS!">>>

The monitors showed the clones and their wolves stopping dead, then wheeling in one uncanny body to race towards Burkehardt's laboratory and sanctuum. There were three exits from the room: the staircase leading up to a sub-floor above, a door just to their left marked 'Notausgang' with a heavy electronic lock, and a dusty oak door at the very back of the room only accessible by shoving a table laden with iron and stone carvings aside.

And then there were the ventilation ducts, an opening of which was only a few feet from the cooling corpse and spreading blood of their recently departed enemy.

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Blodeuwedd didn’t flinch at Myrmidons actions, even if she didn’t agree with them she did understand his reasons. If she had given her word then it would have been a different matter…

“We need to secure or put out of action any mystical artefacts they gathered. And even if there’s the slightest of chance the people are okay we’ve got to try and save them. And we’ll need to find a way of destroy the base without harming the patrons of Red Benny’s.â€

She tilted her head slightly and her voice softened slightly.

“I know you’ve got issue’s with OVERTHROW, and I don’t know all the facts, but you can’t let your hate for these people blind you to all the innocent’s we could hurt if we’re not careful.â€

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He stood, quickly scanned the room , and turned his attention back on his ally. << I am not a expert when it comes to the occult, so I cannot discern magical trinkets from mere mundane ones. However, I will assist you, but I you seem to not comprehend who our opposition truly are. This is not OVERTHROW, who is a splinter terrorist group meant to draw the public, private, and governments of the world eyes away from the true origination: SHADOW.>>

Myrmidon pointed to the door marked 'Notausgang' and the vent. << Kick the vent in, and jam open the door. I will move the desk. They will have to split their forces three ways if they wish to pursue. >> He stepped over the corpse of the sorcerer, heading behind the desk and began shoving it out of the way of the oaken doors. << I respect your opinion, so please do not think that you understand where I am coming from. >> The clone said to Blodeuwedd as he put his back into it. It is amazing how there is always a little bit more innocence left to lose. he noted sadly, wishing that the woman did not have to see what horrors and perversions of life would likely lie ahead.

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It seemed the time for arguments had passed; all she could do now was try to stop him going to excess. Before she carried out his order she quickly scanned the room to see if the cloned sorcerer kept anything magical in his office. If this SHADOW were starting to take an interest in magical artefacts maybe she should advise the Order to add them to their watch list.

Satisfied that there was nothing to magically dangerous in the room she proceeded to kick in the vent, releasing a little of her frustration on the metal grill. Venting her anger if you will. She then used one of her throwing knives to jam open the door.

“Anything I should be watching out for in their tactics? “

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<< The dual-nature purpose of this facility between science and magic will likely chance the opposing force layout, but the average trooper has the training roughly equivalent of a member of a first-world nations military. Typical deployment is two four man fire-teams, making up a squad led by an officer. Multiple squads will coordinate and use pincer tactics to eliminate enemies or flush them into kill zones. Judging by the size of this facility I would estimate between one hundred to two hundred troops. >> Myrmidon succeeding in getting the desk out of the way, went to open the door for Blodeuwedd.

<< After you. >> He said, keeping his eyes on the main door.

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GM

The door revealed a broad and well-lit back passage that through narrow series of vertical windows looked into a dark room crammed with stacked slabs of rock marked with runes, small bookshelves, other mystic paraphernalia and in which three inhumanly big and oddly truncated figures lay draped in white sheets on small pedestals. The pedestals were arranged at roughly the points of a right triangle, and between them at the feet of these Procrustean beds stood three clones, their hands joined, eyes covered with veils and lips slowly moving. Above this odd tableau moved a triad of wisp-like shapes, which could dimly be made out to have long beards and stern faces. They each hovered around a draped figure.

A door two meters from Burkehardt's study exit led into that room, and at the opposite end of the hallway were double-doors that held the Staff of Aesculapius. From it came a distant, throbbing hum.

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As Blodeuwedd stepped into the corridor she faded from view and her footfall faded to almost nothing. For most people it would seem that Myrmidon was all alone. Carefully looking through the window’s she scanned the room to see if, as she suspected, there was any magic in the room beyond.

<<â€For now your disguise might still be of some use to us. I’ll scout a short distance ahead and try to shut down any potential problems. Those people down there…â€>> she fought to urge to point, useless at this stage <<â€â€¦they have information that might be useful, for now we need at least one of them alive.â€>>

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Myrmidon nodded, as the blue glow surrounded his lower legs and arms. When it was finished, the helmeted hero had what appeared to be heavy armor in those locations, which he flexed slightly with the slight whirr of servomotors before following Blods directions. He stalked over to the three clones deep who were deep in meditation or maintaining a spell, whichever he did not know, pausing before he instigated his attack. Hopefully they are not magically protected he mused before dispatching the two on the outside with a strike to the neck.

The third and final clone was taken out of his reverie by the distinct sound of bones snapping followed by two lifeless sounding thumps hitting the floor. Before he could parse the situation he felt a hand on the back of head and then nothingness. Myrmidon picked up the one he had spared, and dragged it back into the passageway. << Here. Smelling Salts. >> He said as he fished the item in question out of his medical kit and flicked it onto the chest of the unconscious clone. << What now? >>

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Blodeuwedd didn’t move into the room behind Myrmidon, her attention was instead draw more toward what couldn’t be seen. Above what she’d reckoned was the giant skeletons were the unhappy spirits of the giant’s themselves. She wished she the ability to speak with them but such a thing was beyond her abilities. She paid no attention to the technicians around them, confident that Myrmidon would do what she asked.

She dropped her concealment and offered her goggles to Myrmidon.

“If you look through these you can see the spirits or ghosts of the Giant’s trapped within their skeletons. We need to remove them from the base and away from these people’s control.â€

She leaned down and woke the man up, the first sight he saw was her dark hooded form.

“Tell me how what were you planning to do with the Giants, and how were you planning to transport them?â€

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