Codex
The crew now found themselves down upon the barren streets of Avisten proper. Most of all civilians had either been evacuated, or sought shelter deeper within the heart of the layered metropolis. A grand, bustling metropolis with nothing left but military to walk the streets. The moo-eyed soldiers were back, coupled with an impressive selection of automated defense units. The crew were laerted by an thunderous roll, like a thunderstorm had manifested all at once over the ghostly metropolis.
"The Republic was stricken with disbelief however, when their walls came crashing in from all directions."
Above the crew, white streaks of light crashed through the blue-tinted sky. Chunk by chunk, the great shield that was projected over the bunkered capital began to cripple and fade away.
Richter continued.
"Deep below the streets of Avisten, the word of the revolution had moved the poor and the overworked to join their cause." The view panned deep below the earth, spreading light on the massive generator coils hidden well below the city streets. The crew could see what was happening plain as day as the generators began to destabilize in a flash.
"They cast down whatever they could cobble together into the large power generators that kept the city defended- explosives, tools, even themselves. And in the end, we have their sacrifices to thank. Though Avisten was left defenseless, ATES and the Grand Council were not."
Just like that, the crew was dragged straight back to the surface- but to a different scene entirely. The entire metropolis was now cast in orange, and the cacophony of war had broken through the streets.
Faceless soldiers fought up and down the city as a barrage of artillery and gunfire hailed past. Stylized fire, explosives, and destruction range past as the focus of the scene shifted down the wide avenues. Hanging far above the city laid a massive floating island- one made of metal. The airship peered down upon the scene, beams of energy erupting from the hanging cannons located in a ring around the outside.
"They were prepared to cast down mortars upon their own capital from their Gardens above to cease their undoing by our hands." As Adila spoke, the guided projectiles seared through the streets, piercing several soldiers and crew members with a crystalline spearhead, followed by a stream of ceaseless green flame.
Adila continued, but something began to interrupt her- a glitch in the codex.
"Their atrocity and black hea rts s one th roug-h and throu gh as we s tor- med-" Time around the scene slowed as another stream connected, a much different, more
realistic one.
The ever-present voice spoke up again.
"Don't take my interruption wrong, Adila was always a sweetheart and a poet... but there are some things you can't just paint an appealing picture of."
There was no more narration, or witty dialogue. The new stream showed the same scene from a different perspective- the eyes of a person falling to the ground. The soldier was clad in a dark black metal laid over kevlar fabric, but the now first-person perspective limited their appearance. The soldier scrambled to their knees as they pressed themselves against cover, absorbing the scene. They were atop one of the many pedestrian highways of Avisten, the orange curls of flame pressing from beneath their position. Artillery rounds impacted across the city, kicking up plumes of dust and debris as opposing forces clashed in all-out urban warfrare.
From around the cover they spotted an ally, a soldier in matching rugged armor. The soldier was caught beneath a large metal clamp, struggling for freedom. The spectator behind covered physically winced and retreated when the man was quickly crushed in a unceremonious splatter of flesh and blood.
After a moment of breathing, the soldier hurled their weapon over the cover- a cheaply-produced battle rifle chambered in some wide unorthodox round. Farther down the street littered with corpses and debris laid a massive, quadruped assault machine. The gorilla-like machine sat in a predatory position, bloodily finished with its target and seeking the rest. The soldier grunted and fired off a burst of rounds into the machine's back. The rounds did little overall damage, but were more than enough to draw attention.
The beast turned, picking up speed as it found a new target. The machine wasn't any of Oakland design, or like anything the crew had seen so far- heavily industrial, modular, no nonsense. The machine let off a mechanical whine as a flurry of spear-like echyllis rounds impacted the unknown soldiers cover, quickly shredding the outer side of the concrete bulkhead. The sharpshooter yelled something intangible, though their voice carried a rich gaelic accent.
"As-kut!"
As the machine focused on the shooter, an entire patrol of soldiers could be seen rushing from the other end of the street. They carried heavy armor across their hunched backs, giving them protection from the falling debris. With them out of the way, the shooter prepared their escape from the mechanical beast. Their escape was, however, delayed by a new spectacle that befell the scene. The Upper Gardens of Avisten, the mechanical fortress that overlooked the entire battlefield- brought to its last legs. The airship gave out, descending towards the center of the city as gravity took it to it's grave. It was over.
The shooter was a moment too late, as the mechanical gorilla bowled through their cover- taking them underneath it's boxy foot. The heavy spiked paw visibly cleaved through the soldier's body armor as they let out muffled screech of pain. The struggle of the soldier was fierce, but in vain as an audible shock-wave rippled the air. Debris was sent flying into the air as the bridge beneath the soldier and machine crumbled, washed over in a horrid blue light. An unnatural supernova wiped through the streets as the soldier plummeted, slicing buildings clean in half as fire scorched the alleys. The falling soldier bounced from the debris and hit the ground beneath the underpass, their camera breaking free to fall down, and down, and down- eventually landing where the sun no longer shined before the feed was cut.
Dahlia stood there, incredibly concerned and confused with a lot to say but nothing to say it with.
The Overseer's voice returned from the dark, directly behind the crew. OSC-01 themselves laid a hand on the Captains shoulder. While the Overseer had been mildly enjoying putting the crew through digital torment, the scene had even jarred her slightly.
"Now don't fret, that's not where our story ends- or hers for that matter."
OSC-01 leaned back, resuming their regular posture. "But it would seem there's a situation brewing outside that needs attention- so let's speed this up."
The Overseer waved a wing, and the program resumed it's normal track, albeit farther ahead. The scene and dialogue accompanying it had been sped up exponentially, leaving the crew to listen.
"There are too few words to describe the nightmarish weaponry that the Councils had held close secret. Not even Amelia knew of what lie beneath the soil of Avisten. They could not destroy their creations, but only contain them in vain. When Avisten fell, the tortured souls were released and rampant. Our futile attempts at preserving the city were struck down in vain as a new force sought and destroyed. We could not determine if there was some malevolent thought behind them, or if these poor creations were simply driven by an instinct to escape. What took minutes felt like an eternity to all of us. The valiant stood against them, working to contain the fires of destruction and rebirth- and to finally seal them from whence they came. "
"In the end, there was somber silence. We had won, but not without sacrifices- from the personal, to the most extreme. We had lost not only our own, but out leaders, and the innocent that stood behind us as well. The event was forever known as the Schism."
"What happened to Nepheros was a tragedy. The land had been cleaved and carved, ravines of scorched rock left in its wake. The Schism had taken not only lives, but civilizations- lost beyond our wildest comprehension. From the highest plateaus to the deepest trenches of the southern sea, not a stone was left unturned. Chunks of the rock and soils had been uprooted from the crust, left to orbit a planet with a burnt and thinned atmosphere. Those that were fortunate enough to survive the Schism were left with ash and bare soil to rebuild on. At first, we thought it was the end. We thought we had lost it all, and our comrades were to never return."
"That was, until the seventh day. We found one of our former leaders, the person who helped lead the charge seal away the Folly. But they were not like the person we once knew, grown old but certainly not feeble. Their spirit still burned in the hopes that they too could return, to us. For our mere days, they stated they had experienced decades. The person proved to us all that despite the destruction and ruins we had been left, it was not the end. They were soon to become our first leader, henceforth known as The Faceless Baron."
"In lieu of the events they had endured, and his position as the first leader, the Baron asked of us all to state their name not in public. They wished not to be known by it, nor by his appearance. Instead, they desired to be known for their deeds, and let history decide upon their fate. Under their aim, we gathered the survivors of the destruction from both sides, and set forth on a journey towards the westward wharfs shores; far away from the decrepit remains of Mount Avisten, and the metropolis it once held. Together, we sparked new life into the wastelands that lay before us. A land we titled New Incipere."
The dialogue and scenery continued to accelerate to beyond comprehensible levels. It seemed the documentary went on for quite a while, though it was clear by the devolution into still images that it was never quite finished by the creators. The images flashed by of a new figure, draped in velvet, leading the survivors to a new land. The land became cultivated, and a new civilization flourished. The last still image stuck in view for a few moments. It was of that particular figure, an elderly but clearly strong beast of a man- or woman- standing tall as they oversaw the construction of a new manor overlooking the sea. Surrounding the man was a round table of odd souls. Some of them could be recognized from the new order that overtook the Nepherian Civil War, but others were missing. And for the first time in that still frame, the crew could catch a glimpse of an ever-familiar Overseer standing at guard near the head of the table.
The program ended without much grace, like a tape running out of video to display. The crew was left in an empty void, the sound of quiet crackling filling their ears. The Overseer returned, somewhat peeved. She waved a wing, returning the missing mouths to the crew.
"What a shame, just at the part where things started to turn up. The Marhearts never got to finish their work for the public debut, however."
Dahlia looked around, flooded with a lot of information and not a lot of time to process it. She had an onslaught of questions, and not enough time to reason them all out.
"Who, where did, what was, you-"
OSC-01 waved a hand, immediately regretting this decision as their eyes narrowed.
"There will be a time for questions later, for now it seems like your crew is on an edge."
The Overseer disappeared, spiraling into the thin air once more. The crew within the simulation started to feel a tug on their heads, as if being dragged once more into the real world.
When they surfaced, the Overseer was nowhere to be found.