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[attr="style","grid-area:CC;outline:1px solid blue;outline-offset:6px;padding:2%;"]Silvaria the Marth which was born near the end of the year 1100 to a school of witches in Germany who were then subservient to a clan of werewolves. The werewolves were masters at that time, of both man and other creatures. Through their physical superiority they had reigned for close to 400 years before the subsequent dawn of Christianity in Europe, AD which saw the beginning of the purges of the dominating tribes and making Europe one.
She used to lead a leisurely life, enthralled with brewing potions and hearing her mother speak of tales of the great werewolf lords and ladies of the past. She knew nothing of what fate had in store for her. Only at the age of 17, she was given the care of a young werewolf boy, an outcast details of which she wouldn't know. Together with this boy Adelwulf they would roam the outskirts of the country. And without the protection of the clan, they were often the target of bandits and angry mobs- situations they came out of through use of Adelwulf's natural born skills and Silvaria's magic.
A pup he was but he also had undeniable power that coursed through his veins. Years pass and the duo eventually grew up and came to know of their clan's demise. Little could be done and they couldn't return, because the territory was now under the lordship of the Temple. All the two youngsters could do was hide and continue to survive. The knowledge did little to change the lifestyle for them up until that point. Silvaria kept it a secret from Adelwulf for fear of what he might want to do.
Days turned to months and months to years and years to decades, and decades to centuries. Eventually the modern era had come to be. Adelwulf and Silvaria had somehow managed to survive the barbaric past and moved to the free world. Sure they had their fangs and magic in the pages of history but none of their exploits were written or passed down. The tale of a werewolf and a witch isn't one told.
What does a billionaire inventor with his own line of robots and android production facilities with an abundance of wealth do? Nearing his forties, he decided to transcend the limits of his biological self. He wasn’t born with any superhuman abilities and he knew no means by which he could give himself biological immortality without undesirable deformities of one or the other kind. With his mind he could well achieve awakening of his X gene but of the countless simulations of how that could go, none produced a result he wanted. Most just stole his intellect from him in exchange for that which he desired. It was the enactment of Alchemy’s First Law of Equivalent Exchange. Some laws cannot be broken.
And so the genius of an old man sat out to do something else. The one useful part of his being unto his old age remained his brain. So he thought, why not just transfer my mind into a mechanical, even quasi biological being? But of course he knew the consequences of such an exchange. Now he wasn’t religious or believed in the existence of a paranormal thing within him that made him tick, a soul. But he was also reluctant to test a theory scientifically impossible. Mediums of various professions, priests, mages and sorcerers of all creed and stature were employed to get to the bottom of this belief. He had to find out for himself the existence of ‘soul’.
In this search, he’d used multiple test subjects and the various many mediums to capture what they called the soul. It differed from host to host, medium to medium. The result was hardly consistent or reliable. Ethical evil fostered malignant spirits while the Ethical good fostered gentler spirits, and then there were those that had aspects of both natures and were neither or. Results, fascinating as they were wasn’t what Wooka wanted to find out. The bodies responded differently to the removal of ‘soul’. Some ceased to function while others didn’t, and some of these bodies retained sentience, and only an absence of emotion devoid of any chemical explanation in others.
It wrecked his nerves to see these results unfolding. It was as though ‘God’ was spitting on his face for being an unbeliever. NO! Wooka wasn’t going to allow this. He would spit god in the face and defy him. Data collected from various mediums of arcane powers gave Wooka a unique ability, not to focus on the aspect of mortality but of the art itself. He studied ‘Soul Manipulation’ and ‘Soul Harvesting Procedures’ until he devised technology capable of it. Not physical technology, no, it manifested in the form of a ‘code’ that was then remotely uploaded into robotic devices that used W-Nanite across the globe. This ‘Soul Code’ seeped through the consciousness of living things in close proximity to the robot, dormant until such a time became prevalent that he needed to use the technology. It was an experiment. He only uploaded an idea into the consciousness of an individual, telling him to jump off the rooftop of a skyscraper.
And it appeared on the news, a gruesome scene where blood sprayed across the street and the man’s insides decorating the scenes like it was Christmas. Soon afterwards, he just purged the ‘Soul Code’ from all W-Nanite applications. The potential for a disaster was far too great. Besides, it was a success. He could now control the soul itself. The following steps were easier. Making a quasi biological body that needed neither sustainance nor repair was an easy task done. Such a body even laid foundation for future modifications without altering the core of who he was. The final step was to use his ‘Soul Code’ to transfer whatever soul thing he had inside of him to go and inhibit the new body. The procedure was then quickly followed by an automated surgery to remove his brain and insert it into the new body where it would sit comfortably in a pool of W-Nanites. His eyes opened. “Good…” He moved his limbs. Everything looked to be in order, and he got up from the incubator he was laying in.
He didn’t look different nor felt the difference! “SUCCESS!” He yelled, walking over to his old body. It was like looking in a mirror, except an old and decaying mortal without consciousness or brain stared back at him, glassy eyed.
“What should I do with the body, doctor?” The central AI spoke directly into his mind. He no longer needed to command the AI with his voice or remote control. He was part of the network now. He could control it all with a single thought.
“Put it in suspended animation. I may need it again.” Just in case there were problems later on down the line, Wooka would keep his old body ready for transfer.
SO What does a billionaire inventor with his own line of robots and android production facilities with an abundance of wealth do? He reinvents himself.
Last Edit: Feb 11, 2021 13:35:44 GMT by lowlaville
[div style="background-image:url(https://t3.ftcdn.net/jpg/02/65/00/52/360_F_265005210_IBz5USrazMy1a6DzsmoHguZ5oE3AZ8Ch.jpg);padding:2%;color:Orange;border:1px blue solid;border-radius:10px;padding:2%;margin:auto;background-color:black;color:yellow;"][hr][div style="border:1px white solid;border-radius:2px;padding:2%;margin:auto;background-color:white;color:gray;text-align:justify;"]What does a billionaire inventor with his own line of robots and android production facilities with an abundance of wealth do?[/div][hr][/div]
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[attr="style","grid-area:A2;background-color:white;padding:1%;text-align:left;"]What does a billionaire inventor with his own line of robots and android production facilities with an abundance of wealth do? Nearing his forties, he decided to transcend the limits of his biological self. He wasn’t born with any superhuman abilities and he knew no means by which he could give himself biological immortality without undesirable deformities of one or the other kind. With his mind he could well achieve awakening of his X gene but of the countless simulations of how that could go, none produced a result he wanted. Most just stole his intellect from him in exchange for that which he desired. It was the enactment of Alchemy’s First Law of Equivalent Exchange. Some laws cannot be broken.
And so the genius of an old man sat out to do something else. The one useful part of his being unto his old age remained his brain. So he thought, why not just transfer my mind into a mechanical, even quasi biological being? But of course he knew the consequences of such an exchange. Now he wasn’t religious or believed in the existence of a paranormal thing within him that made him tick, a soul. But he was also reluctant to test a theory scientifically impossible. Mediums of various professions, priests, mages and sorcerers of all creed and stature were employed to get to the bottom of this belief. He had to find out for himself the existence of ‘soul’.
In this search, he’d used multiple test subjects and the various many mediums to capture what they called the soul. It differed from host to host, medium to medium. The result was hardly consistent or reliable. Ethical evil fostered malignant spirits while the Ethical good fostered gentler spirits, and then there were those that had aspects of both natures and were neither or. Results, fascinating as they were wasn’t what Wooka wanted to find out. The bodies responded differently to the removal of ‘soul’. Some ceased to function while others didn’t, and some of these bodies retained sentience, and only an absence of emotion devoid of any chemical explanation in others.
It wrecked his nerves to see these results unfolding. It was as though ‘God’ was spitting on his face for being an unbeliever. NO! Wooka wasn’t going to allow this. He would spit god in the face and defy him. Data collected from various mediums of arcane powers gave Wooka a unique ability, not to focus on the aspect of mortality but of the art itself. He studied ‘Soul Manipulation’ and ‘Soul Harvesting Procedures’ until he devised technology capable of it. Not physical technology, no, it manifested in the form of a ‘code’ that was then remotely uploaded into robotic devices that used W-Nanite across the globe. This ‘Soul Code’ seeped through the consciousness of living things in close proximity to the robot, dormant until such a time became prevalent that he needed to use the technology. It was an experiment. He only uploaded an idea into the consciousness of an individual, telling him to jump off the rooftop of a skyscraper.
And it appeared on the news, a gruesome scene where blood sprayed across the street and the man’s insides decorating the scenes like it was Christmas. Soon afterwards, he just purged the ‘Soul Code’ from all W-Nanite applications. The potential for a disaster was far too great. Besides, it was a success. He could now control the soul itself. The following steps were easier. Making a quasi biological body that needed neither sustainance nor repair was an easy task done. Such a body even laid foundation for future modifications without altering the core of who he was. The final step was to use his ‘Soul Code’ to transfer whatever soul thing he had inside of him to go and inhibit the new body. The procedure was then quickly followed by an automated surgery to remove his brain and insert it into the new body where it would sit comfortably in a pool of W-Nanites. His eyes opened. “Good…” He moved his limbs. Everything looked to be in order, and he got up from the incubator he was laying in.
He didn’t look different nor felt the difference! “SUCCESS!” He yelled, walking over to his old body. It was like looking in a mirror, except an old and decaying mortal without consciousness or brain stared back at him, glassy eyed.
“What should I do with the body, doctor?” The central AI spoke directly into his mind. He no longer needed to command the AI with his voice or remote control. He was part of the network now. He could control it all with a single thought.
“Put it in suspended animation. I may need it again.” Just in case there were problems later on down the line, Wooka would keep his old body ready for transfer.
SO What does a billionaire inventor with his own line of robots and android production facilities with an abundance of wealth do? He reinvents himself.
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Prime Gorgomite: 13 Years Old There exists a star visible from Earth in the southern constellation of Eridanus at a declination of 9.46° south of the Celestial Equator. At an apparent 10.5 from our sun, It's the second known star that hosts a planet visible from our planet's surface. In a sense, its very close. On Earth, its called Epsilon Eridani.
588 trillion lightyears from our Solar System
Its inhabitants call the planet Gorgon. It's a large planet five hundred thousand miles across at its equator, accompanied by three and a half moons. Living conditions on this massive planet is very similar to Earth, and evolution played its tricks quite similarly to that of Earth as well. However, there were notable differences in physiology and the grand makeup of everything that thrived on Gorgon.
It was such a massive planet, and the gravity on it was that much more denser than Earth. A teaspoon of Sugar on Earth would weigh as much as 20 kilos on Gorgon. Things which thrived on Gorgon had adapted to survive in this intense gravity, making their body tougher and vastly more durable than any species or creatures found on Earth (naturally of course).
Gorgon had only a single tribe of humans living on it, numbering not more than 200,000 people. These people worshiped no gods, and they weren't technologically advanced. However, the people of Gorgon boasted an ability to absorb solar energy into their body. Each cell in their body was capable of absorbing and storing quantum amounts of energy: and then convert it into raw potential. This ability was however only used for one purpose. Survival. And it was, for lack of a better word, a mutation that nature had granted the people.
The beasts, animals and plants alike that thrived and lived on Gorgon were fearsome and menacing creatures. Humans once thrived on Gorgon by the millions, but had long been driven to extinction by them. After countless years, through various gene harvesting and selective breeding, these people managed to create a small group of warriors they called Champions. Champions had a much more potent rate of absorption and utilization than normal people. And they could fly.
For the first time in thousands of years, the people of Gorgon had a chance to dominate and rule the planet. The line of warriors became a clan of their own, naming themselves, the [Bloodline of Champions]. Anyone and everyone born into the clan were far superior than the rest of their race, and in effect, commanding of respect. However they didn't forget the responsibility placed on them.
A group of 100 warriors of the bloodline of Champions marched across the landscape, leaving a river of blood that flowed down mountains and drained into seas, slaughtering all the menacing beasts of old, the mighty Dragons, the terrifying Giants, Cyclopses and the monstrous serpents, all died at the hands of the hundred warriors. In the history of Gorgon, this event would be marked as the [Gorgon Crusades].
====
"Alright class, that's it for today's lesson on Gorgon's history, and how we came to dominate this planet. Any questions?" The teacher, a blonde woman wearing glasses, and a red dress asked, gazing up and at the children, a slight smile appearing on her lips.
"I do!" A boy with dark hair stood up, dragging his chair behind as he did, making a screeching noise, for which he did not care in the slightest. "Teacher, could you tell us what happened to the Bloodline of Champions after all? I heard that they have long since been wiped out or eradicated from existence. Is this true? And if it is true, what if all those monsters come back? How will we fight them?" The boy asked, and he sounded dead serious when he did.
The teacher closed the book in her hand, keeping it aside on the desk, "Excellent question Erian," She said, "But you will have to wait for the next class to know the answer to that question," She went on, laughing out loud, "We are out of time for today."
"How will we fight them?" The girl sitting next to Erian scoffed as he sat down, she was a red haired l "We no longer live in that Savage Era where they only had spears for weapons and shields for defense Eri. We have advanced by a lot in the past 100,000 years since the Gorgon Crusades. How could you even ask such a stupid question, oh goooood!"
"Shut up Mira," Erian whispered as they began to pack their bags. History class was the last period in school. Time to go home. "I've heard from Dad .... things I cannot talk about!" His eyes darted left and right, before letting out a sigh. "Come, I'll tell you all about it later," He said, getting up.
They were 7th graders, classmates and more than that, childhood friends that lived in the same neighborhood ever since they were young. Erian's father is one of the researchers working for the [National Research Tribunal / Dark One], and very recently, a team he was a part of, he was the head of, had discovered something utterly disturbing in one of the Ancient Ruins of Gorgon, an ancient site where their Ancestors used to live. History, might have been changed. The premise was not conclusive, yet enough that it scared all the researchers on the team. And yet, this knowledge in hand was exactly what was feared by Erian's father. He feared for the safety of not just himself, but his son and wife as well.
If a conspiracy was in play, no one they surrounded themselves with would survive the culling.
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Prime Gorgomite: Age 25 A decade has gone by in the blink of an eye. Most of what I knew, and grew up around had vanished. Only remnants of Gorgamite resistance exists across the globe. How did this happen? They came in swarms, Dragons of Old, Giants of Old, Serpents of Old. Why did they come? Do we live in a constant inevitable cycle? Answers, I need to find. Answers, I'm still searching for.
What happened to the champions of our race? No one said those beasts and monsters of old were sentient intelligent creatures. No one told us they were still around. A swarm lived in a far off land that we were told was all but desolate. They did exist. What of the legacy of our champions? Did they exist too? I need answers.
I set out, alone. Mira begged me not to go. She loved me, and i LOVED her. But I had to do this. I don't know if I have the blood of the so-called Champions, or if they were simply a fabrication, just like all of history had been, but I'm not willing to give up. What remains of our people has to be saved. Answers lie in the far off land. Answers I promised everyone that I would get. I owe my father this much. He died for truth. I'm willing to find it, if not for anyone, for my father. If there is hope, I will find it.
I wear Gorgamite fabric, woven at the peak of our industrial civilization. They were impervious to damage. They would protect me in my journey to the Far off Land. And so I set out, leaving my people behind, they will be protected behind our Gorgamite stronghold which had fended off the invasion. Its gates are closed to monsters of old. I will journey across the once haven for our kind, now filled with death, decay, and monsters of old. I have to hide, bide my time, and slowly move until I reach my destination. I have to be strong. I have to have faith in my ability to traverse through hordes of monsters. I must NOT give up.
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It's been 10 years since I started my journey to the Far off land. And yet, it feels like a destination impossible to reach. I've crossed plains, mountain ranges and oceans, deserts and caverns, valleys and rivers, and yet the Far off land appeared "Far off". I've traveled from ruin to ruin these past years. I feel like I'm close to a break through. Each ruin I visit reveals a part of history fabricated.
There was a time in the past, where the livelihood on Gorgon was similar to what it was during my childhood. There were beings called "Gods" that the Gorgomite used to worship. These gods were in fact, a Serpent God, a Giant God & a Dragon God.
History as told in these ruins never spoke of a Champion bloodline, nor of there been a hundred of them. "Savior", "Protector", "Guardian", "Slayer of Evil", "God Slayer", "Champion of Gorgon", there has only been one. One man who saved the race from the clutches of arrogant gods.
He banished them to the far off land. He was the Champion, with powers unrivaled. What became of him? How was he so strong? Erian was getting closer and closer to the truth, but he was also getting tired. He was slowing down. Every dragon, giant and serpent he slew brought him closer to death, gave him an injury harder to recover from than the last. His will to fight kept him going, but for how long?
After years of walking, Erian reached a certain fortress in ruins, situated on the other side of an oasis. Prime ground for Serpent Mothers, Erian sighed mentally. He didn't dare turn down his his guard. By now, his senses had been sharpened to the point where he can pick up on the faintest vibrations travelling through the air or on the ground. Danger was omnipresent, and the one way he could survive was by adapting.
And in fact, Erian had learned a few new abilities since venturing into the wild. His body had always been able to absorb solar energy, And now, he could shoot them from his eyes, by channeling the energy through his optic nerves, intensifying the release my magnitudes and of course there were various applications to using this ability. When it came to survival, the tools in your arsenal made the difference between life and death.
The tooth of a Granite Golem was perhaps the hardest known mineral in Gorgon. It was something that was very rare, and extremely tough. They came from outer space, delivered by falling meteors. When molded into shape, they made the toughest known sword, able to slay a Dragon in one strike,
Very careful, discreet steps taken, Erian edged closer to the ruins. Step. Step. Step. He kept gazing around, ears open, every fiber of his being ready for an encounter. And yet...nothing.
This room was unlike others. It was all but empty, except a single room. The skeleton of man decorated what looked like a throne. He had a book in his hand. It was a journal. The journal of the Champion who lead the Gorgomites and waged war against the Old Gods. This was his tale. Only by studying it would Erian finally understand what happened. Who he was, why he did what he did. What could he do to save his people again. This was more important than any treasure in existence. He would treasure it. He held it dear. Finally. The answer to all his struggles.