EMPEROR'S END

(Somewhere at the back of his imagination, he can almost hear Caelus playfully calling him a nerd.)

(Well... Guilty as charged?)

Still, he has no intention of letting his curiosity get the better of him and fumble or cause the Genius any inconvenience; as his ally displays his power, ripping through the Fragmentum monster and simultaneously offering him protection with what seems like almost childish ease, Dan Heng sharpens his focus. It feels tempting to just let go in this moment, to release himself from all restraint and let the tides and thunders roar for him, drowning all in their path - but he pushes these thoughts back. The time for him to give in to the call of the Dragon's Delirium is not now, not yet. He anchors himself to the feeling of Screwllum's presence and the sound of his voice to keep himself in check, his eyes locked on a singular spot - the weak point the other has pointed out.

There is a loud sound of cracking and crushing that resonates through the air as he collides with the enemy - but the Cloud-Piercer was made to withstand much more powerful foes than this. When the chaos of wind and ice combined finally dies down after a bone-chilling elemental display, Dan Heng is left standing there among the distorted, contaminated chunks of ice scattered all around him - rubbing his left shoulder lightly, ever as frost clings to it as a result of a hit he took.

Birds begin to chirp in the air once more, long adapted to the cold, and yet Screwllum's attention instead turns to the Polar Bear staring them down before turning eastward and trotting off with a loud huff, as if disapproving of the lack of snow surrounding the once battlefield. "You fought admirably, young Nameless, in a way I confess to not having seen since the Borderstar Trade War." The highest praise he can, for there was little admirable to be found during the First Mechanical War, watching as the cubs of the Polar Bear finally disappear behind the metal.

"... I can only hope they don't cause trouble for our allies." Although it would be somewhat amusing to see the cuteness of the cubs as they swarm his junior, Screwllum can already tell the mother is rather territorial that any fight with her would result in a rather nasty lost as he reaches inside of his coat to pull out a flask of tea.

Thirst born already in those dark times when books and the knowledge contained within, even if carefully selected and curated by those who caged him since birth, were his only companions aside from the clanking of his chains and the wails of the damned echoing throughout the Shackling Prison. Thirst made only stronger when he stumbled upon and boarded the Astral Express, and was given access to the full scope of its data bank, with which he had spent many a sleepless night to absorb as much information as he could; fearing internally and unknowingly, perhaps, that this chance could be taken away from him just as easily as it was given.

Unfortunately, this time, broadening his horizons would have to wait for another day. There are another matters at hand - such as protecting Belobog and getting out of here alive. "I'll do everything I can," he declares to Screwllum with a nod, as the crystal orb embedded in the Cloud-Piercer begins to emanate gold and black energy. "Please feel free to instruct me should you see it necessary."

He watches at the water rise, the droplets condense in the air as the beam begins to coalesce, spinning and spinning until the air itself becomes a vortex of a rainbow of colours before silence falls. A faux breath, two, as a deafening burst of wind blows forward, snow and ice blasted into nothingness as the arm of the Fragmentum creature begins to reform. "How... disappointing." Clearly the past few centuries have left his aim lacking, and yet he's done more damage than would often be possible to the creature slowly advancing.

"Dan Heng, the armor on the side should be rather easily pierced now." A simple observation, yet he lets the weapon crumble away, focusing his attention on the butterflies that make up his barrier to cover the young nameless, paying careful attention to the destruction that seems to radiant off the young man. Yet... there is no malice to be found, none of THEIR signature touch.

A beat, wingshaped projectors spreading out as the white-gold barrier shines forward to wrap around his companion, icy bolts turning to little more than wisps on the wind from the elemental barrier. In a way he could almost laugh, how content he is for his companions to take the lead, yet the Emanator doubts that she would take kindly to being compared to another, especially when she so rarely makes an appearance.

("Weren't you supposed to be a political leader technically?" Someone asked him, and well, he's glad not to be. Maybe he wouldn't even be too bad at it if he gave it an honest try, but that doesn't mean he would enjoy it.)

He listens to the Genius' musings at the same time, noting mentally any detail to memorize and input into the data bank at a later date. Some others, perhaps, would see those words as little more than casual rambling, and perhaps Screwllum was talking to himself just as much as to Dan Heng at that point - but the Vidyadhara knows better than to disregard any observations of one such as him.

"To be honest, when I first heard the news, I wondered if it were possible that this world has somehow managed to suffer a second Stellaron disaster," Dan Heng responds with a wince, summoning another dragon-shaped stream to clear the area around them, and ignoring entirely the furious roars of the enemies that respond. A magnificent display of power to some, described by a few observers to his power as beautiful; nothing special to him, however. He finds no Beauty to be had in Destructive maneuvers. "But surely if that were to somehow happen, we would have known. Someone would have detected it." Clearly the Express Crew would have - Himeko and Pom-Pom continue to observe the world from the orbit - and even if they were to somehow miss it, there's no way two Geniuses would have.

Something by his boot catches Dan Heng's eye, and he stops for a moment to bend down and examine the colorful spot he saw; however, he gives up on the effort after just a few seconds with a wince. The color emerging from beneath the snow turns out to be part of a jacket covering someone's arm... frozen hard as stone. There is no way the owner can possibly still be alive. He would have sensed life traces if that were the case.

Perhaps in another life Preservation would have gazed upon that fleeting spark, and yet it is now to be this one as barriers begin to crack, becoming a fragile with the relentlessness of it all. Were he human, perhaps that mechanical mouth of his would have raised in a smirk, and yet for the Emanator of the Erudition, all his can do is remain amidst a sea of solemnity as the blizzard surrounding them becomes harsher, a sea of green intertwined as the fragmentum is reduced to little more than dust on the wind by their combined assault.

"Celenova has not been seen near Jarilo in centuries I fear, even were she to appear here, to suffer a second Stellaron is... unheard of, even amidst the final days of the Swarm Disaster." A conundrum for another time, yet perhaps it has become past time to reach out to the other geniuses despite his reservations about doing so. For so many Emanators to have appeared in one place without the presence of the destruction is all but unheard of, yet here he stands amidst the snow and ash in quiet consideration. "Perhaps... the reason in which we have not heard it, is because the storm has long since cut us off from the outside."

He sees the hand, long frozen, and stops, kneeling in the snow to grasp at frozen and warped metal to mark it like so often has been done. This is yet another habit he wished unnecessary, to leave the departed where they rest until time can become more kind to those precious beings.

Wincing lightly, he waves through the air with his hand, summoning a surging, dragon-shaped stream that surrounds them akin to a protective barrier and sweeps away any more monsters that attempt to approach - before bursting, clearing a wide area around them and giving them at least a little breathing room. Already in mid-air, the tiny drops of water freeze, resulting in a glittering shower of white, azure and purple around them as the enemies disappear.

Only then does he find the opportunity to return to the Genius' question, giving it a moment of thought before he speaks.

"Less so, I would say. It was still ill-advised to venture outside of the city of Belobog, and many who did so never returned - but back then, it was unimaginable for the Silvermane Guards to request help from a group of what ultimately are civilians." He takes a small break here, scanning the area again using cloudhymn echolocation to check their surroundings. Looks like this wave of enemies has been eliminated, at least.

It is only then that he returns to something else that Screwllum had said earlier, thinking.

"Adlivun... Nanook's home planet, destroyed by repeated disasters striking one after another," he muses as he recalls the section of the data bank where he stumbled upon the name. How did the Ruin Author feel about the annihilation of everything THEY once knew? Did THEY even feel anything at this point? Dan Heng sighs quietly before he lets this thought process dissipate into nothingness. There's no point in trying to dissect the thought process of an Aeon, especially Nanook.

He focuses instead on the here and now, and frowns as something tugs at his senses, his grip on the spear tightening.

"Interesting... And the Stelleron was present at the time... to call upon pathstriders to assist in the defence, even knowing that Diamond has an eye upon this world..." He thinks, experiment after experiment running through his mind before a shade begins to approach, only to find layers upon layers of energy barring their path as the ice in the air is sharpened, made into a sea of blades to slow the advance of the creatures.

He hasn't thought about the mechanical wars or the swarm in far too long, yet the tactics feel familiar, a force lying in wait for the opportune moment to seize the advantage.

"The diamond world is what those of us that remember it from before the myriad disasters call it. By the time THEY descended, it had already been marred by both the Propagation and Erudition..." A history lesson as the barriers are shifted, expanding further with a wave of the mechanical aristocrat's hand. There is a puzzle here, one that begs to be solved, and yet he has precious few in the way of pieces of which to solve it. "To push this world towards Terminus' embrace without rhyme or reason is unheard of, even for THEM."

A beep, the chronocognitive anchor in his personal space spinning to life as if warning him to turn, barrier swirling before becoming a jagged edge to carve throw the torso of a shade sneaking behind him.

There is a small note in his voice; a hint of hesitation, an unspoken hope that the Genius accompanying him might have some thoughts or theories about the matter. Of course, the Cancer of All Words remains a largely unknown enigma, even to the Society, and he is aware of that. Still, if someone may have some form of an answer, he would be one of the best bets.

The Cloud-Piercer remains in his hand at all times. Dan Heng doesn't waste words on pointless warnings - he doesn't have to remind the Emperor of Intellitrons of all people to remain vigilant in those circumstances. The Frostspawns that strike at them take little more than a single swing of his spear to dissipate, but they're numerous and relentless, and blend into the blizzard dangerously well.

After a thoughtful moment in silence, Dan Heng's eyes light up with a celadon hue, and he focuses as he scans the immediate area with cloudhymn echolocation.

Teal hues turn upon the destructive crystals, tinted blue by the sheer cold, raising from the earth, summoning one of the many many poisonous monarchs from within his personal garden space to slice through the air in a sea of ominous purple as destruction falls to the erudition once more. "Perhaps the answer lies within the Adlivun system... yet that is not my research topic to lay claim to, nor do I wish to intrude within a space long considered unknowable, even to the society."

A gloved hand brought to faux chin, a habit picked up by lifetimes spent amongst humans as he considers the nature of what could cause such a disastrous recurrence, drawing into himself to debate the merits of deploying the cognition beacon and calling his home to disrupt the world's precarious orbit even further. Had he all the time in the world, perhaps he would have even called upon Stephan to arrange a meeting between geniuses.

... yet the calm words call him back into the present, summoning a butterfly to cut amongst the building blizzard. "Conclusion: there are no creations of the antimatter in the vicinity, I suggest we deal with the smaller members before dealing with the larger entity in the distance." He's reminded in a way of the swarm disaster, of the endless legions falling upon a thousand worlds until a precious many rose in defence.

His companion, his junior, can only be called a recluse, yet for her to be present here is almost surprising to the Genius that once likened Humanity's development to a cocoon, expecting the recluse to remain safely in her tower far beyond the edge of the wilderness. Still, the Fragmentum can hardly be called his exclusive topic, so he cannot claim her appearance in person is shocking, not when the science here is almost foundation to their work.

"Madam Herta." A simple greeting to the woman almost dancing amidst the snow drifts, as the imaginary wave theorem is made real through the five mirrors revolving around the key shaped staff. His circuits feel almost inadequate in comparison to his junior, and yet that cannot be allowed to stop him, raising a hand as willing the teal butterfly to bloom to life, a ticking clock that counts the moment all equations reach null as bladed wings surge forth to slice through a particularly persistent symptom of prior contamination.

"Hypothesis: You have travelled to Jarilo-VI under the guise of a puppet attending Solwarm. Variable: The presence of Polka Kakamond's proof of the four apocalypses was unexpected." The reclusive Fourth Seat has not appeared, which means Nous has long forseen this moment, how intriquing, if only Stephen had joined him, they could have had an impromptu meeting over that which has been and will be again.

"Conclusion: An offer, then, to share the spoils of this particular research topic, what say you, Genius Society, 83rd Seat, Madam Herta?" A necessary formality amongst geniuses, to address each other with the upmost respect when the topic strikes.

Just the dudes by themselves below bc why not lol