#computed

The other rightened himself and brushed off his robe a bit.

“I… Well-you see-… I mistook you for someone else. That is all,”

he said with his head lowered a bit. Poor thing sensed this pissy excuse of a man as someone he had tried to pull into this realm. Timing made the mistake come all too easily, and who he was looking for is, sadly, in another castle.

The shorter man sighed, then tugged at his hood to further block his face. Clearly he was hot in this over bearing light, and the humid breeze coming in from the nearby sea only added to his misery.

Again, Nero groaned. This time he took the other by the wrist and made a point by dragging him into some nearby shade from a short cliff, all the while mumbling under his breath,

“Really… I don’t know who you are, but you certainly don’t look capable of wandering your way back to wherever you came from. Not without some help anyway. You did save me when that white devil of a thing made for my back while I was in a daze, and I did return the favour when it decided you were the better appitizer. I’ll chaperone you home, then you can answer a few of my questions, too.”

No, Nero wasn’t asking for permission. He outright decided on it. Even with the other’s disagreement and rejection of the offer, it was pretty clear that he wasn’t about to take no as an answer.

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, the smaller of stature stranger yielded.

“Fine. Fine. If it would please you. Let us be on our way then.”

Thankfully the road to civilization wasn’t a terrible one. Nothing that Nero couldn’t handle anyway, although helping someone seemingly feeble was certainly different.

When they did eventually arrive, the outlander’s heart stopped. There it was. The Crystal Tower in all of its’ familiar glory, as well as a rush of memories and emotions that came with it.

“What.. I… Oi-”

Before Nero could question his newfound companion, other fellows came running with obvious relieve from worry written on their faces. They greeted him happily, asking if he was alright, although referring to him as the Crystal Exarch is what further gave appetite to curiosity.

That would be for later. Right now this place looks like a perfect foot hold while I seek out Doll. I just need a half-decent opportunity to further that.

That opportunity, thankfully, didn’t take too long to present itself.

Nero was offered lodging in exchange for work, and even had a bit of a foot up due to the ‘good’ deed that he has done. He was speaking and asking simple but relative questions towards the Exarch when the subject of his state weakening when distanced from the tower peaked.

“What rot. You’re too bloody stubborn to let others offer their protection for you. I’m no citizen of this city or of this world. There for your command has nothing over me.”

Before him, the still mysteriously shrouded man shifted uncomfortably in his chair within the Cabinet of Curiosities. Thankfully their choice of seating was rather private from prying eyes.

“I’m afraid to ask what point you are coming to-” but Nero promptly cut him off.

“I’m going to be your bodyguard.”

Crystal Exarch:

Either way, it felt like a good start to Nero, considering what circumstances could have been. He needed a base. He needed to find his doll child he has grown so lovingly fond of. There were new wonders and oppertunities. Lastly, but certainly not least, he could smell Allagan reeking off of this new client of his.

And so it goes in this new and mysterious world, although not without a heavy dose of worry and anxiety over his little angel, and, unknown yet to him, towards a second that has now come under his wing.

Once upon a time he would have laughed himself to death at the idea of becoming a guardian over another in any sort of serious way.

He could still remember the first time his equipment picked up the chant. Back then, he was still tasked of spying on the Warrior of Light--still a part of an Empire he wished to be recognized in. It was that day where his motivation towards knowledge and power began to shift heavily. 

       W.s ...t g..is chs hy....s ..a ...♪                     E. ch..e f..l, ..al me...♪

What was this exactly? He had no idea. He could only remember entirely dropping whatever work he was doing on the Ultima weapon to dive towards the contraption that was barely picking up this static-y excuse of a message. It was in a language he had never heard and, through the crackling, the voice sounded.... odd... as if the source had multiple vocals somehow. He knew it dripped of power. A power that would shame anything else that had been found or invented.

 “What?... Wait, what was that-”

At that moment everything else around him no longer existed. There was only this superb mystery and there was very, very little to go off of it. It would be this very recording, although incomplete, that reignited his passions that has thus driven him this far. The instrument he used to spy on his enemies would be altered to not only track his foe, but also to attempt to pick up anymore of this message.

Nero continued to follow and watch the Warrior of Light, being that he felt that this blip on his radar was only found due to this rival. If he continued to follow and study the Warrior, he assumed more information about the source of this chance would eventually surface. It had to.

Of course there would be no doubt that he would be right. He is Nero tol Scaeva after all.

“He who will out do Garlond and even the Allagans themselves,” as he often said.

Finally, the contraption upon his wrist that he often doted over sang out, but much more clearly than before:

      Was yant gagis chs hymmnos mea...♪                        En chsee fwal, fwal mea...♪  

Fou paks ra, diasee, sarrifis hyzik tes dius yor... ♪

This was soon after the disaster that was Praetorium. Soon after he was exiled from his homeland and forced to wander the land of the savages. At this point his desires were defeated and everything lost. The only thing left was a fleeting flutter of revenge and the contraption that he still clung to. The song. That song--what was it?

Quietly, he schemed. He still followed closely at the wake of the Warrior of Light’s footsteps. He needed to know what was the source of this, even if it killed him. After all, he had nothing else to lose.

Certainly, it must be something connected to the Crystal Tower, There was too much potential at this wonderland of knowledge for it to be anything else. The events that transpired there was only further proof of his assumptions.

“So...this is the legacy the Allagan Empire left behind. If my readings are correct, the energy source waiting atop the tower is a match for even the Ultima Weapon. Nay...more than a match. Heh heh heh... A new toy for me to play with.”

At least that’s how he convinced himself to feel about it. In all honesty the source was playing with him due to the extreme obsession that had grown from it. If only he had any idea exactly how much of a toy he would end up being to the source of this voice. That voice which was now repeating a single phrase, over and over,

Rrha ki ra tek wim tes yor....     Rrha ki ra tek wim tes yor....            Rrha ki ra tek wim tes yor....                       Rrha ki ra tek wim tes yor.... ...

After all was said and done, and after his newfound debt he had towards his childhood rival, there was yet a single quote that lingered at the back of his head. A quote from that woman he so selfishly defended and saved,

“What you seek by this instrument may not be possible, Nero. But do not give up. There are many other paths that await you.”

...Of course they do.

Nero remembered all too well how he stood alone afterwards, looking down upon the instrument in his hand, and jaw clenched in both disappointment and enlightenment.

The thing was now silent.

Too silent... and somehow he knew he would never hear that beautiful voice from it ever again. Therefor, he tossed the now useless thing into the abyss before him.

At the same time, he also had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time he would hear it. In the mean time, he would study the recordings. He had to try and decipher it. That passion of his to climb to the top would never falter.

He would continue on. Renewed, he would continue to grow and evolve at any means necessary.

He will find the source of this voice.

Suddenly his body jerked and startled itself awake.

“Ngh... How long has it been? Curses-” he grunted as he pressed against a knee to hoist himself into a sleepy standing position. Reaching up, he finally switched off the contraption that had been repeating the chant.

This was a sort of ritual of his. At least once a day he had to listen to it--analyzing what he heard over and over to the point of insanity and back. Again and again. He was hoping for some breakthrough in deciphering it.

...At least that use to be the reason for listening to it.

“Ah, I better retire properly. Not unless I want a little god-creature waking and being insufferably upset due to waking up by themselves. I know I’m certainly in no state to be able to withstand the sour pout they would likely guilt me with.”

After brushing himself off, Nero quietly retreated back into the cave where bedding was dressed into the deeper, cooler section of it. There, something that looked similar to a child lay asleep. Captured between their arms was a makeshift plush, which Nero had no doubt sewn himself. Male? Female? Who knew. Not even Nero knew after extensive study of this synthetic yet living humanoid. It seemed as though this animated ball-jointed-like doll was created without such trivial characteristics in mind.

This made no difference to the engineer. To him, this creature was perfect and beautiful just the way they were.

The source of the voice? This was certainly it. Now, how did it come to be that he came across this creature? Why, that will be saved for another fit of accidental dreaming.

As far as the Garlean was concerned, he was just happy he ended up with the antiqued thing from another world. That much was prominent with how he leaned over to gently place a hand over the other’s forehead. All the while a very fatherly-like smile managed to wriggle its’ way to the surface.

This sort of life and these sorts of emotions was exceedingly far from how he first predicted his happiness would be upon finding the source of that voice.

Not even he knew that his obsession for power would somehow twist into the love of that of a parent.

Not only a parent to what he was convinced in being the greatest thing ever created within the very fabrics of space and time--but a parent to his first and only family. 

                          This was his child.

   Rrha ki ra tek wim tes yor,...♪               en weel waath dius manaf, yat!♪