#ca ic

Even sighs as he looks to a somewhat crumpled picture in his hand, charred around the edges.

its EASY just find someone with a normal scythe and STEAL IT.

A hero?

John found himself silently talking into his phone as a mini diary as he recorded his thoughts.

“June 1, 2016″

...

Citta has gotten a visit from the mysterious supercomputer, Athelos. One who reminds me of Skynet..

One claims to save us from ourselves, another kills humans to save us. Is this all related somehow?”

No... I refuse to die against this Supercomputer... I will NOT become another victim of this war..

Humans vs Machines, Those with Powers vs Non- Powered humans..

Everything about this war just felt too much alike, it was scary.

Well before it even dawned on Rika that she had returned to the Sea of Fragments, she could tell something was wrong.

There was no air here, but it felt charged all the same. She looked for Hanyuu, but did not see her. She tried to call out, but found her voice muffled and weak.

A shadow was spreading. Some distant, unnatural shape was forming across windows to all the different worlds, moving in perfect sync as some abstract shape eclipsed all the crystalline formations simultaneously. Everywhere, across every world Rika could see and ever interact with, something was coming. No, it was here - it was touching them. Touching her.

The last thing Rika remembered was an overwhelming sense of violation before, like a light, her consciousness blinked out.

Waking up after being placed carefully in a world could be unpleasant. Being ripped from one mid-life and being shoved into another hurt.

The vertigo was debilitating. All of Rika’s senses overlapped and knotted together at once in a confusing, terrifying, sickening mess. Light hit like a fist to the brain, sounds tasted like poison, the feeling of her nerves prickling and short-circuiting smelled like eggs crackled like breaking glass, up was left and down was spinning, screaming, spiraling, she was sick to her stomach and all her other parts and just make it stop-

Countless dry heaves, an hour of weeping in agony, and a brief seizure later, Rika’s brain finally pieced itself back together in a way that she could make sense out of. The room felt hotter than Hell itself, her skin felt like ice, ants rolled up and down under her skin like ocean waves, her chest and face were sticky with drool and tears and bile, her head beat and throbbed like a second heart, and she no doubt looked like death itself as she picked herself weakly off the floor, but she was here. Rika was alive, as disoriented as was humanly possible, and had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Then the TV across the room clicked to life. The video played. She heard the noises, and she knew the man on the screen was saying something, but the words didn’t stick, ringing hollow as the bounced forcibly off the sides of her skull and the insides of her ears. Her eyes were glazed and her thoughts feverish and dream-like - nothing was going to register right now. Not in her state.

Other than absolutely everything being different, this was no different than normal. In hindsight that might make no sense, mostly because it did not. Unable to appreciate that (or much of anything else), Rika popped the tape out of the VCR and stumbled numbly out of the room to the world beyond, proceeding to do what she always did every other life: recuperate, gather her bearings, and try to un-live everything that had just happened to her.