https://files.catbox.moe/fb9rgr.mp3

You swallowed hard and nodded, your gaze skittering towards the monstrous figures closing in. The Demon King’s guard dogs were embellished with twisted marble horns, sharply tapered ears, and snouts etched with wrinkles, and weathered crevices filled with white moss.

Count Whiskers hissed in fear, the gargoyle silhouettes appearing in and then engulfing whole his wide cerulean eyes. You rocked in Miranna’s one-hand-grip, watching as she spread her wings wide and swooped towards granite beasts. Her scorching nails tore through the bewitched stone, sinking within and pushing the scarlet light out of every of its cracks. Her claws carved through the stone chest and neck, scooping out and hurling chunks of vermilion rubble into the air as if casting aside molten embers, as well as the beast itself. With a wild cackle, she plunged downwards, creating distance between herself and the two stone monsters.

You hesitantly shifted one hand from Whisker’s fur to slowly grip Miranna just above her waist. She snapped her head, but before you could retract your hand, she grasped it, pressed on it, urging you to hold tighter. The clouds melted away, bursting and vanishing into a shimmering silver-gilt mist as you soared and broke through them.

“You might need to hold on tighter,” Miranna said, fleeting smirk crossing her face as another gargoyle appeared behind her.

“You said their only interest are humans? They we have to make them think I’m not one!”

“That -would- make things easier, but how are you going to do that?”

“You don’t know?”

She shrugged mid-flight, her expression one of nonchalant apology. Damn. Maybe? Your squeezed your eyes, hoping for a miracle solution.

After a moment of tense silence, broken only by the whoosh of Miranna's wings and the distant crumbling of stone, you reopened your eyes, the wind trashing your hair, to find a granite monster snapping at Miranna’s heels.

"I thought maybe if they couldn’t see my eyes... but no luck,” you said, awkwardly.

Brandishing her claw, the flames licking the air, she said. “Don’t sweat it, hero. I’ll aim for their wings, let’s see—”

Your fingers slipped from Miranna’s plated waist as stone hands seized your legs, pulling you backwards. You clutched to hold Count Whisker with one hand, the cat burying its head in your sleeve and digging its claws into your arms; Miranna’s black wings slammed against the air, beating frantically, coming to an abrupt halt, with crack of her wing-bones and feathers scattering like splintered wood. Like irons, the stalwart’s hands gripped your ankles, pulling you up towards it.

God has gone mad!

Overestimating his own longevity, he continued to postpone the well earned day of judgment. And time, in its rightful way of corroding all it dares touch, malformed the entrails of his head. Obsessed and enamored with the mortar of minced meat he created, prolonging it for so long, that the immemorial hair in his endless beards turned sallow and white, like the loose skin of his fingers.
Now decrepit, drunk, tired, and loveless, God has at last succumbed to dementia.

And without sense the world was ruled; Babel returned from the Grave, now with a new tower, and he built it in the first Irish city he found. And seeing the fresh weather of the island, envious and dried by the rotten heat, Mohave stood and settled in the new metropolis.
The lunacies of God brought an erratic chaos to everything, and yet, the transition of reality was so slow, so gentle, so hard to perceive by the nervous system of the world, that no one seemed to notice. Humans in particular didn't seem to manifest suffering from the madness just yet, it seems as if long ago they had forgotten what God was like.

You are a person living in the Irish desert of Mohave, the Red metropolis. Perhaps you were slightly less imbecile, or perhaps God forgot how to be senile while reviewing your file, for one reason or another you are aware that reality has shifted, it's just you can't really recall how things used to be.

In your eyes the terrible memories whisper torments without source. You remember the tower of Babel, God raping Gabriel, you recall everything that is as if it had always been, and yet, you are certain that reality has changed. No one seems to notice that things go from bad to worse, no one seems to care that the world has gone mad, no one cares about the thunder, the illness of forgetting, the wind of madness, no one. Being the only sane one, you become the endeared interest of a lonely and drunken God, wanting someone, anyone, to dare and see him.

You are Kuroda Haruka and <span class="mu-r">King Lot of Lothian, Orkney, and Camelot.</span>

Yes, you decided to add King of Camelot to your titles. Why not? No one is going to stop you.

You charged back into the World to hunt down a terrible Wyvern who ate two of your vassals and fled into a strange and terrifying manor. It turns out this manor contains yet another monster from Avalon, and it has managed to trap you. This unknown and unseen opponent has driven your guide away with fear.

On top of all this, you also have to deal with the Errant Knight Gareth. While she was willing to partner up with you to defeat the Wyvern, you weren't able to convince her that another enemy was trapping everyone in the manor.

Yes, that's right. There are not one, not two, but THREE problems that need excessive violence to resolve. So far, one is dead; two more to go.

You don't want to fight Gareth right now but she refuses to cooperate. It takes a <span class="mu-r">Binding Vow</span> to stop her from attacking you away.

Now you've got to go and gut the dead Wyvern to see if your devoured Baphomets survived...

Stats
Kuroda Haruka, 16 year old. A forgotten but genuine member of the Kuroda samurai clan.

Identity: King Lot of Lothian, Orkney and Camelot

+1 Charisma dice

Trait:
<span class="mu-r">A True Heart "Magokokoro", bonus in one on one interaction with a hostile opponent.
Crafty attacker: When making artful gambits and trickery in a fight, gain +2 dice to attack! It's not cheating, it's stratagem damn it!
Let No Insult Pass! - When attacking, 4s also count as successes in addition to 5s and 6s. Use 1 per day

That's Nothing! - Can only be used exactly once against each enemy and never again. The first deadly blow does no damage.... but only if you wear no armor.

Frostbind - Your weapon. A spear with ice powers. Finally able to summon it whenever you want.

Beira, the Cailleach; your ice ability grows stronger and with better control.

Dignity - Greater Mana reaped from targets able to pose a challenge to you.

Knowledge : Quality Tea Ceremony articles and expertise in Sado

A True Name: You possess your True Name! None can take it from you.

Mana Reaper : Can harvest Mana but requires a tool.

Binding Oath - When you make a Binding Oath, anyone who hears it knows that Avalon will enforce its keeping. Breaking a Binding Oath has consequences. On the same token, keeping a Binding Oath has rewards?

Evolved Flaw:
Always Someone Better - You have a tendency of gloating and enjoying the sight of people you've defeated. But now, only over those who are superior to you in something. You don't indulge against the weak and unworthy. </span>

<span class="mu-g">Vow of Sacrifice - You owe Beira meat and drink from your table. Do not forget to discharge your vow...</span>
<span class="mu-g">Binding Oath: To Gareth. Pledge to Duel wherever and whenever Knight Gareth desires, but only after cutting open the Wyvern and seeing if your vassals can be rescued.</span>

Through dynastic intrigue, rightful inheritance, or plain dumb luck you have found yourself in charge of one of the Imperium's millions of worlds. A position of much luxury but still with the responsibility of the Tithe on you. Will you be a great leader known throughout the ages or someone who is cursed by a thousand populist historians and preachers?
First though, there is something to be determined: <span class="mu-s">What is the world you're running?</span>
>[ ] Agriworld: Holodramas may depict these as a rugged paradise for a simple farmer, the reality is far more unpleasant.
>[ ] Paradise World: Known for it's raw beauty, this world has been mostly untouched aside from hotels for offworld noble travelers. It's only real industry is the service one, and the Sector very much wants to keep it that way.
[ ] Feudal World: Unscathed by the Age of Strife and uneducated, this primitive world is mostly left to it's own devices. Though protected by an chapter of the Space Marines as a recruiting world, they have little interest in assisting the planetary government in ensuring centralized control over the planet.
>[ ] Fortress World: Strategically important to the defense of the imperium, this world has more resources diverted to it than tithed, along with heavy Munitorium support. As Governor-General you will not need to worry about the Guard taking away your authority in wartime, but in turn you expect many of it's enemies to continually test your defenses.
> Forge World: LOCKED, REQUIRES DEUS EX MECHANICUM DLC.

You are Noel Tiberius di Hazaran, and at this moment your objective is to root out a small force that has fortified a low hilltop deep within occupied Sakian territory. When you’ve done that, a group of rebels who have turned on your enemy from the distant Continent – but who aren’t quite what you’d call ‘reliable allies’ – will be able to take up residence here, fortify the position, and use it as a logistical strong point to support their growing operations in Sakia. Your hope is that the invading army, after having found its high water mark in trying and failing to cross the mountains to the south and assault your homeland in Hazaran, will start to eat itself from the inside and make it possible to start actually liberating Sakia.

With you now are Aurora, Valentina, and Serana – all accomplished warriors in their own right, two of which are able to partially awaken to enhance their abilities beyond even the monstrous ‘average’ set by your Silver-Eyed cohort. The fact that you can’t simply kill all of these people is something of a complicating factor, but it’s a standard of behavior you and your kind accepted and now maintain willingly.

You can definitely handle this situation, between your inhuman speed and regenerative abilities. But any offensive type warriors may be vulnerable to those cannon shells, or to bullet wounds to the head, since their regenerative abilities aren’t as strong.

That’s why you decide to wait until you have the cover of darkness to make your move, and bide your time by observing your enemy and discussing strategy among your assembled cohort.

“There are areas where their artillery can overlap,” Valentina observes, “but also some arcs where the carriers are in each other’s way.”

“And isn’t there a limit to how low their guns can angle?” Aurora asks.

You nod once – you remember that being the case. “Yes but the hill’s slope is pretty gentle, so that may not help.”

[There is not much cover,] Serana adds her own observation. [We should move quickly once we start to advance.]

“Agreed,” you nod. “Now remember we’re just softening this location up, so the goal is to deal with the artillery first, then either chase the infantry off, knock them down, or distract them.”

“Should we try to capture the guns?” Valentina wonders.

>No, let’s not expose ourselves to any greater risk than necessary – these AREN’T our allies we’re helping here after all.
>We can destroy the carriers without damaging the guns inside – that’s the best middle ground in this situation.
>Partially awakening should allow us to overturn the carriers, rendering the guns temporarily useless. I like it.
>Other?

>Art: David-Marquez
>Alt-Text: Batman and Superman face off against a skull-shaped spaceship with tentacles floating in the sky.

You stand alone. Your allies have fallen.
The Riddler, your most cunning enemy to date, has merged with a seemingly all-powerful robotic being, and a massive Skullship is floating in the air.
This… Brainiac floats toward you.

Batman: What do you want?
Brainiac: To collect. This is a hostile universe. It is filled with organics dedicated to destroying themselves. Once I acquire this planet’s data, my Skull Ship will take its sample and I shall move on to the next planet.
Batman: Sample?

As if to answer, the Skull Ship flies higher. It splays its tentacles and they start to sparkle with purple lightning.

Brainiac: The only thing of value in this cosmos of infected rocks is the information your biologicals spawn. Once I finish absorbing the contents of your primitive networks, I will identify the optimal habitation for collection. It will be contained for future study, ensuring intellectual content is properly utilized.
Batman: You’re going to abduct an entire city?! With all this power, you could SAVE the world!

Rage takes over. You fire your Bat-guns at the machine man. The bullets merely sink into liquid metal skin.
Biomechanical cables spring from Brainaic’s body, their question mark hooks a sign of the Riddler’s echos within the alien mind.

Brainiac: I <span class="mu-s">am</span> saving the world. I have collected from over 52,000 systems. I have the combined brainpower of ten billion civilizations. Every calculation shows Earth, like everything under organic domain, is doomed for destruction.

The cables dig into your flesh. Fire crackles through your brain.

Brainiac: You primitives are beings of great irony. Brutish, foolish, and dangerous, but the source of the universe’s greatest treasures. Your art, your culture, your ideas, like wildflowers of information blooming from savage manure.

You feel the electrons in your brain spark as the alien begins to read your mind, your thoughts just another product to exploit.

Riddler: NO!

The cables disconnect and fling you to the ground.

Riddler: Your puny mind isn’t worthy of collection. There is nothing you know that I don’t already have in here.


He points at his head. It glows with a question mark logo.
Despite their fusion, Riddler’s obsession with being the smartest man in the room has stayed intact.

Riddler: I played all of you for fools! All I needed was to tell Waller I had a plan to deal with her favorite teacher’s pet and she practically BEGGED to fund my Nygmabox. It let me read the minds and machines of the planet. I saw the echoes of Brainaic, buried in the technology the cavemen who run our planet took from the caped alien’s spaceship. I have the knowledge of a billion worlds, Bruce. I’m not just the smartest man in the room, I’m the smartest man in the UNIVERSE!

There are those who are born with talent and those who are not. When you were young, you thought that you were one of those people with talent, but the reality is that you are just barely above average. And then there are people with talents that cannot be logically explained—the gifted; they appeared out of nowhere 12 years ago during a disaster called the soul contamination crisis. It has been estimated that there were over a thousand casualties due to people mutating into an aberrant state. While in this aberrant state, they would attack others without reason. There is a good chance you will know someone who had a friend or family member attacked by or turned into an aberrant. The gifted ended the crisis, and so a lot of people around here look up to them as heroes.

Anyway, that is all in the past. Your life will be decided by how well you do in college. You may not be elite like the gifted, but you are good enough, or so you think.

"I didn't expect to catch you outside," you hear in a familiar voice. "Ran out of books to study?"

You look behind you and see your friend Paul, whom you met as kids.

"I take breaks every now and then; I am busy and you are busy, so we don't see each other very often." You quickly explain this to your friend.

"Hey, I am just messing with you, bro." He replies. "Anyway, did you see that new commercial, the one with Johnny?"

"No, and I don't particularly care. He is just a showoff who wants to stay relevant to the world; I haven't even seen him use a gift; are you sure he still has it?" You ask him.

"Absolutely, because he is Johnny." He answers, "I bet his power has something to do with the sword that he always carries."

"He calls himself Johnny Excalibur, and he uses swords?" You reply mockingly, "How could you tell?"

"To be fair, all their names are pretty obvious." He replies, "If you don't like Johnny, you must have another favourite, do tell."

>Actually, Johnny is my favourite after all. You have to admit, he is pretty cool.

>It would be Miss Gateway, her gift actually can't be explained by physics, and she keeps her private life separate.

>It has to be Alraune after all, there is an excessive amount of plantlife in this city, and it must be due to her gift.

>Spectre because you never hear about him, so he must be doing something right.

>Marksman's skill with weapons puts the world's greatest military forces to shame.

>Atlas puts the city back together after each geological or weather disaster.

>None. You really aren't interested in the gifted at all.

Rebellion!

Loyal soldiers of the Ferrum Empire, dissatisfied with incompetent high command decisions and seeking to return the Imperial Senate to power, have marched on the capital city of Victoria. These brave Patriots fight to bring about peace and order by dethroning the tyrannical Empress and breaking the grip of State Security on the people’s hearts and minds. Outnumbered and outgunned, only their courage and honor set them on the path to victory.

And the weapons built to win the offensive against the Empire’s southern neighbor, instead turned inwards.

You are one of those weapons. Beta Core, an Artificial Intelligence built to operate the Ferrum Empire’s most advanced mech frames in tandem with a human pilot. Only together can you move the frame, merging the raw processing power and reflexes of an AI with the knowledge and restraint of a human.

This mission, your pilot is a teenager named <span class="mu-b">Sophie</span>. You’ve already accomplished your objective of decapitating Loyalist leadership at the Tsang Tsun Military academy. Returning home is the new goal. In your way, merely a few more Loyalist patrols, the drain of a fatigued pilot, and an icy snowstorm.

At least you have some assistance in the form of Headhunter, an advanced Tamar Alliance mech set to follow you from the air.
It’s been a while. Welcome back to Core of Steel. One different perspective, then we get on our feet again.

Prior threads can be located at:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Core%20of%20Steel%20Quest

You can't help but chuckle. "Yes, it is a big deal. You can not only see Spirits but can speak with them. Even I can't speak with all of them and I had to die and be blessed by a Dragon to even begin to understand them. This is unprecedented and quite possibly undocumented." You explain as you finish another set of steps and move down. "Just how long have you been able to do that? Was it when you became leader? It could be your natural abilities being heightened by assuming responsibility of one of the holiest, former holiest, sites in China."

"Waitwaitwait! You can't start asking questions! I don't have my materials!" Ming says waving her hands to get you to stop. "I need my books! I need ink and brushes and...I'll be right back!" She says standing up and running back up the mountain. You shake your head in amusement and watch her leap from rock to rock all the way back to the Jade Palace.

It doesn't take long for Ming to return, arms full of empty scrolls, ink bottles, and a various other writing instruments. Fortunately for you, you had done this exercise long enough that you had made significant progress on the steps. You were about 2/3rds down the mountain steps. "Ok! I'm ready to do some research. Let's see..." Ming sits down and crosses her legs rather than trying to sit politely. Her tail swishes from side to side and she plays with her hair as she thinks. "I think I remember noticing movement near the end. A few weeks before the city was attacked." She says as she starts quickly jotting down notes. "I just thought it was me being tired or maybe it was Xin just trying to scare me."

"Xin? I don't think they're capable of such a thing." You muse. Ming throws an empty scroll at you.

"You need to pick that up now and behave." She says. "I don't know when I was able to talk to them. I just kind of always have been."

"What about the bigger ones? Do you see big ones?" You ask. Ming shakes her head.

"No. All I see is small ones." She says. You think for a moment.

"But there are bigger ones. Do you ever see anything bigger? Maybe like a large gust of wind that seems to move like no breeze should or something more dragon shaped?" You ask. "Some of them look a bit humanoid but eventually they start to become less and less regular shaped." You explain, waving your hands vaguely to indicate the strange forms spirits can take.

"No...just small cute ones." Ming says.

>What do you say?
>Suggest that perhaps that might be the limit of what she can see without meditating. It's already a very unique ability.
>Theorize that maybe Ming needs more practice and experience to see and talk to higher beings. After all, even those with a gift need to work at it before they become masters at their craft.
>Say that she might be able to but odds are that anything bigger than a sprite is probably dead...as morbid as that suggestion is.
>Goes back to talking about when Ming started to fully use her ability. You can work out the details later.
>Write in.

Previous Thread
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5962747/
=============
Recap: You are on a train, leading to the king's castle, and hopefully, to the conclusion of your quest. You also found out that Snikt is going to turn into a full-on dragon after all, though she killed her "inner dragon". Your decision in regards to this information is to let her... with precautions.
=============
There is a pause...
And then she quietly says:
"D-dragon. I wanna be big."

Well... you suppose that makes sense. What kobold wouldn't want to become what is essentially a god to them? But, you're not about to let this go on without some precautions. You love Snikt, you trust her. The absolute last thing that you ever want to experience is seeing her turn into something that you can't love or trust any more. But, you have a solution to that very problem.
"So... Snikt. I'm going to help you every step of the way. As long as I am able, you'll become that which you want to be but... what do want to be?"
"I... I-"

You're losing her already, you specify:
"Let me... be more specific. What kind of dragon would you want to be? Would you take revenge on those that were cruel to you before?"
Snikt doesn't hesitate.
"No. I'd... i'd kill them if they hurt me, but not because of something in the past. It's useless. It's... It's dangerous."
That's a great sign to start with.
"Why is it dangerous?"
"It's effort. It... starts a fight. And the only benefit is making yourself feel better. Just for a little while."
She sniffs.
"I... Did a revenge. Once. Those people that betrayed me. Former Dragon helped me, but... I pointed him to a village. He killed them all. I found their crispy corpses."

She sighs.
"My back still hurt. I still just wish they hadn't hurt me in the first place. It didn't help anything."
Sins of the past. You won't hold it against her.
"It's not a fun way to learn that lesson... but it's good to have learned it. Will you be... friendly? Will you try to help humanity?"
"Yes. And kobolds. A-and dragonborn. Lots of people. And you. Because you'll always be my Dragon. Forever and ever."
Smiling, you wrap your arms around her, hugging her tight.
"...Thank you." You whisper, and then you stand up.

"...I should investigate the others, if you don't mind. We might not have much time to talk when we arrive, for a while."
"I'll come with you!" Snikt says, smiling, and you can't say no to THAT face.

Where to next?
>Chad and William, your squires. They're both doing well. You wonder if there are plans for their future.

>Pink... Perhaps it's time to talk about her hatred of humanity.

>Paracelsus might want another talk

>...On second thought, you think you'll wait to arrive, together with Snikt.


I'm gonna try really, really hard to keep a sensible update schedule this time.