#nexus zone

[perishrad]

a bunch of sketches, here we go

[superstargaycare]

nexember day 10 - guy who is normal abt butterflies (i can be trusted to be normal about butterflies) this design is by the wonderful @@alex-finechi-is-back !! i rlly love the concept of nexus's body physically showing signs of star power strain and this is suchh a unique way of doing it, butterflies 10/10

[knightforflowers]

is it being the Halloween month a good enough excuse to post abt my Ethersea Bloodborne au

in which the Coriolis Crew are amateur beast hunters subjected to the abominable victorian eldritch horror torment nexus that is the plot of Fromsoftware’s Bloodborne 2015 👍

[razorblade180]

So you said that if you had theoretically infinite cash, you'd make a full-scales RWBY game. On that note, if you had to pick an already-existing game (standalone or franchise) to have a collab with RWBY, which would it be, why, and how would it work? I've had brainworms on the topic and they've been craving roommates and/or food.

I think this is cheating but a some sort of Dynasty Warrior collab would be cool specially for that gameplay style. Somehow our heroes end up in the time period where the Great War was happening in Remnant; there’s your excuse for new maps and fighting more enemy types than grimm. Have a special mission that’s the fall of Beacon.

This is also cheating but a collab with almost any Tales Of game. I’m biased to Xillia but I’d listen options. Once again, the franchise’s battle system really leans into multiple characters fighting together and using team attacks. Also many of those games have an endgame location that always ends being some realm in between realities where they add characters from their other games, so getting a collab to show up is pretty easy. There are weirder things in that series than walking through a portal that leads to Remnant.

I’m really thinking in terms of gameplay aesthetic and genre. This one kinda doesn’t make sense but Nier x RWBY would be fulfilling to me in the sense that I would very much like to be RWBY characters in a giant open world where I could run, dash, use my abilities, and snappy fighting. Just thinking about going through the amusement park in Automata as Blake or Weiss feels nice to me.

In the same vein, my brain is going “the cast in a BotW world would be wonderful, but I don’t want BotW gameplay” which annoyingly leads me to think “so Genshin Impact” and the last thing I want is farming for them in a gacha. If ZZZ wasn’t a gacha then I wouldn’t hesitate about the idea of putting RWBY in a game with flashy fast paced combat. Honestly as I’m typing this I’ve come to an interesting thought. If you mixed the some of the structure and mechanics of Zenless with Scarlet Nexus, you’d probably end up with pretty good foundation for a RWBY.

[thegreatyin]

two down, five to go.

[cypherscript]

Eclipsed teaser

Purple gears turn slowly with a tick tick tick as a pendulum swings back and forth in the background.. Floating below, a lone figure looks around at multiple round lens, he watches as in each lens a white-haired young boy dressed in a black and white hazmat suit does a variety of tasks; one has him fighting a blue dragon at a dance, the next one shows him running through a jungle with an African girl holding a sack of flour as a robotic ghost chases them, the following shows him squaring off against a pale man dressed as a ring leader, another shows him fighting a host of older ghosts while bound and the final lens shows him fighting against an imposing giant of a ghost whose head was alight in flame and only winning once the flaming ghost was shoved into a sarcophagus bearing his image.

The figure turns his staff around and looks at the clock face to check the time, the air and building around him began to shake and vibrate as a pain filled scream echoed across the realms. “Hmm, a minute early,” The figure says, his body regressed into a young boy, looking back to the lens to find that many of them have changed.

Now the first lens showed the young boy now fighting a black dragon, aided by the previous blue dragon. The second lens now shows the boy floating in a magic circle as two brothers aim firearms at him. The third has been changed to the boy dressed in a fur cloak and guarding what appears to be merchants through ancient greece, while the fourth has him speaking to a disheveled man in a trench coat smoking a cigarette while a female magician looks on displeased at his smoking habits while the final lens remains unchanged, that future remains to pass which soothes the figure’s worry a little. The figure shifts once more into a young man, he waves a hand over a nearby lens, “Show me Daniel Fenton.”

[bioticgoddess]

Gaming...

Games I'm currently playing on a semi-regular basis:

Honkai: Star Rail

Destiny 2

Zenless Zone Zero

Games I need to return to that were regulars:

Scarlet Nexus

Baldur's Gate 3

Spiritfarer

Games I need to play again that I played briefly and quite enjoyed:

Sea of Stars

Jedi Fallen Order (I'm stuck on a jump puzzle though)

Transistor (I may be stuck in a room. hahahaha)

Yes, I know ZZZ has only been out for 24 hours. I find it delightful and can see myself playing it more frequently. It's less grindy and labor intensive than I found WuWa to be. (Neither of those gifs are mine)

[little-book-of-me]

My aesthetic is doors to other worlds in a patterned void.

[hardcoregamer]

But it's far from the only game with those elements. So, if you love Zenless Zone Zero and want to broaden your horizons, these titles should easily fit your gaming library. The included games aren't ranked since they contain various elements that fans of Zenless Zone Zero may appreciate from combat to design style.

[belghast]

World Boss and Meta Add-On

World Boss and Meta Add-On - This morning I talk about a Guild Wars 2 Add-On that has greatly improved my success in getting on board the Zone Meta trains.

Good Morning Friends. Zone Meta Events are the secret sauce of what makes Guild Wars 2 amazing. For the uninitiated, a “Meta” in Guild Wars 2 language is a zone-wide event that takes place on a reoccurring timer. Some of these are straightforward single-shot world bosses, and others are complicated if/then/else chains that start with minor escort events and end up in giant 80+ player raid fights.…

[lndslorepuzzler]

Under Deepspace 03: Talented Hunter, pt 01-11

01: Order Number 85: FMC is sent on a mission to investigate and resolve a fluctuation in No-Hunt Zone 7, Zone IV, but her partner hasn't arrived.

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02: No-Hunt Zone No.7: FMC decides to make her way in without her partner. From the ground, she sees Shen Xinghui confronting a Wanderer, and wonders if he's comforting it. It explodes in a blast of light, and Shen Xinghui destroys its protocore. The red collar appears around his neck. He confronts her, and she gets caught in one of his traps while trying to explain herself.

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03: Reunion Under Moon: After wrapping up her sprained ankle, Shen Xinghui suggests that she leave, as the . He notes that it isn't the Metaflux surges she has to worry about, and that many Tenebrae who go there seeking high-grade protocores to sell are never seen again, once they've obtained them; that the forest itself is alive, and consumed them. FMC tells him not to scare her, but he directs her to leave the forest while he goes off in the opposite direction.

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04: Maze: FMC considers whether or not Shen Xinghui is her partner. There is some brief comedic back-and-forth where he comes back to check on FMC, he goes out and kills a bunch of Wanderers, he comes back to check on FMC, he goes out and kills a bunch of Wanderers. He tells her he's decided he shouldn't leave an injured teammate behind, but his identity can't be verified by her Hunter's Watch. She wants him to prove who he is. He uses his Evol, and creates a 3D pattern made of several diamonds. He asks if she looks familiar; she tells him it doesn't, and the light flickers. ("Maybe Shen Xinghui was hoping to hear something else.") He tells her to keep an eye out for the pattern, as it can appear on the Flux Nexus, a device that captures Metaflux.

When FMC continues to doubt him, Shen Xinghui drops it; when FMC asks him what a Flux Nexus looks like, wanting to compare his information to Tara's, he uses her words against her and reminds her that nothing he says can be verified, so why would she believe him? But his description of the Flux Nexus matches the description of the stele at the abandoned research base.

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05: Exit: FMC wonders why she and Shen Xinghui always seem to be trapped together every time they meet. He asks her why she always happens to be around when he's in trouble. They locate the Wanderers causing the spacial irregularities; before FMC can finish her suggestion on how to deal with them, Shen Xinghui has taken care of them.

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06: Awakened Forest: FMC and Shen Xinghui banter a bit; she wants to know what his deal is, reminding him that he said he'd explain everything the next time they met. He tells her it's a long story, and asks if she really needs to keep her guard up. She says he hasn't been honest, but they can 'work together for now.' They find the Flux Nexus, in the location of a former signal station. FMC realizes that the Metaflux is converging on the Wanderer, which is absorbing it. Shen Xinghui identifies the Wanderer as an Aeonwyrm, and that the Metaflux particles are being used to reconstruct it. Shen Xinghui tries and fails to activate the Flux Nexus, and says FMC should sense its energy and use her Evol to create the same fluctuations. She does so, and the Aeonwyrm evaporates, leaving only a yellow protocore. Shen Xinghui points out that the fluctuations prove that someone wanted to resurrect the Aeonwyrm. Shen Xinghui appears to be very in tune with the forest, claiming that 'it's waking up,' before entering combat.

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07: COMBAT

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08: Where Light Vanishes: Shen Xinghui and FMC escape the Wanderers by virtue of Shen Xinghui's Big Leap Trick. Upon inspecting the protocore obtained from the Aeonwyrm, Shen Xinghui explains that it's been modified, and the modification is the work of the organization, Onychinus, which is stationed in the N109 Zone, which carries the infamous achievement of modifying protocores. Shen Xinghui tells FMC that the moon is much brighter, so she'll be safe to head home, while he walks back into the forest on his own. As the camera pans back, there is a shot of a black, quasi-mechanical crow with red lenses for eyes sitting on a branch.*2

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09: Another Predicament: There is a flashback from the FMC about the attack on Linkon; references to the rusty rain, the ruined streets, and the red moon that slowly blackens, as though it's an eye blinking at her. Coming back to the present,*1 she reminds herself to get in contact with Nero about the eye she saw. She sees Shen Xinghui, in his hunter uniform, being accosted by journalists. ("I don't really have dreams... Also, I'm the only person in my family.") There is mention of complaints that hunters have been destroying public facilities under the pretense of eliminating Wanderers, but when FMC tells Shen Xinghui to beg her to save him, he does. So she does. She notes that it's strange to see him in broad daylight without any disaster surrounding them. Jenna arrives in the office to give them a briefing.

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10: Invitation: Jenna explains that the protocore has both red and blue protocurves, proving that it's been modified. She calls it 'a gift from Onychinus,' and that they clearly know more about the protocore than they do. She says they'll need to use FMC's Evol to locate and obtain more information. She says Onychinus' goals are unknown, but given Qin Che's track record, it's not about money. She instructs FMC to take the next two days off.

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11: Selection: Shen Xinghui and FMC eat gross dry bread and discuss the plans going forward; he advises her to not join the project. FMC says she'll take Shen Xinghui as her partner, because his teleporting ability is useful. He reminds her that her Evol might not be the only option, and to keep her options open. ("You might enter a world that's beyond your wildest imagination.") He expresses his worries that she might have just said yes without thinking it over, that she might not be fully informed about any dangers that lie ahead. He was also worried she wouldn't choose him as her partner.

.

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*1, This event occurs the next morning. *2, In hindsight, we know this is Mephisto.

[perishrad]

Don't worry, she is not going to shoot you! ...until you piss her off entirely.

Meet Linda Wolf!

[universalcaffination]

My brain just clicked on this with something new, I barely remember generations' full plot but ooh well

Word vomit on mobile time yay 🖖

Sorren the antagonist of generations, is only so because he's trying to return to the nexus. The same nexus he was pulled out of the same day kirk fell into and was legally declared dead. His "I will do anything I can to reach this goal I dont care what damage I might leave in my wake" in his desperation to return makes him the antagonist that must be subdued.

He's not the leader of some planet or far off place place trying to destroy a different planet that would cause a war, or any of the extreme movie villan types. He's a dude that's ego and selfishness are hurting others, for no other reason than to return

And why?

He is a widower. A wife who died during childbirth along with the child if I remember correctly?

The nexus gives the people that go inside it anything they could ever dream of

And so the nexus gives him his wife

Not literally of course, it's all in the mind, but it's so vivid it might as well be. This is how he copes, and when he's torn away from that in the prolog in generations, it's like he's been torn away from his love all over again. No wonder he has to return, it might be the only part of her he has left

What does this have to do with the original post? Well...

Does "my partner has died and i must find a way to get her back no matter the cost" ring a bell?

That's why it would have been far more cinematocally engaging because the villains entire goal not only is similar to Kirk's past pursuits. Tng characters remarking something like "sorren stole a shuttle to get to the asteroid? Kirk stole the whole enterprise to run to genesis". but the end that they're reaching out for is the same, even if it was unintentional for kirk.

My partner has died (several times technically) and in my grief i try and find them (kirk is successful sorren doesnt). I fall into the nexus, which recognizes the fear of being torn away from my love like before, and gives me my dream life of a warm home, energetic pets, quiet peace, and my partner by my side for the rest of my days (which is actually quite a long time, since the nexus prevents or slows down aging iirc.

And technically this does happen, kirk is in his Will shatner cabin making breakfast, for a lady we don't see,, and only hear a few sentences about,,, specifically making her favorite meal so it cushions the news that he's going back to starfleet,,,,,,,, this is the memory he is reliving when picard meets him, and it's like.. . Even they both recognize how sad that is, that his history of having to choose between work and a love life and choosing the enterprise every time, is the memory that he is experiencing

I know mr nimoy didn't want to be in the movie (good on him), but I really feel like the scenes with kirk in the nexus are so out of character it's basically shatner acting as himself with the things he likes, but something related to starfleet or the enterprise or fuck, even just being with his friends and his son is alive and loves him or fucking anything that could have been a very emotionally compelling (and revealing) moment, if what Kirk's dream life was wasn't just shat being narcissistic

On the enterprise again with the crew, on the family farm in Iowa, his fucking brother and son and dead family are alive... or nestled in a log cabin making breakfast for your partner... who comes down stairs and greets you... with a sleepy rub to his eye and a delicate touch of two fingertips... moving to the kettle to make two cups of tea... who is your bonded th'ya'la and you've loved since you first met all those years ago

Picard easing kirk out of the nexus, able to make him recognize this wasn't real, but it could be, is what manages to pull him away from the siren song he fell prey to so long ago. Unlike sorren, who was ripped out of the nexus and told he wasn't allowed back into eden, who had no wife to be with in reality. Comparing the two and their similarities/differences could have made for a very cool plot, told from the picard/tng perspective so it's learning about both side by side

Or something along those lines

Thinking about if kirk actually was to fall into the nexus and picard found him and brought him back into reality 80 years later...

Picard seeing kirk's dream existence as living in a cosy home with his favorite dog while making breakfast while picard tries to talk to him, only for spock to come down the stairs in a cosy bedrobe like he just woke up, much to picards immense confusion. It's only then while kirk looks up with so much affection while spock makes a comment about them not expecting any visitors so far in the country - while greeting his jim with a little morning finger kiss - that picard notices the blend of vulcan and terran aesthetic decorating the house. Realizing then that Kirks dream life to live with spock in quiet peace...

Using that to his advantage to tell kirk this isn't real and that's not actually spock (to which he receives a raised vulcan brow), but if kirk comes back to reality with him to stop sorren he can be reunited with spock, the real spock, who has refused to believe kirk is dead and has been searching for him for 80 long years, and that leaving the nexus means they could find each other again and share in this vision in reality and together. That makes kirk pause and after some time finally agree to come back (even the nexus' version of spock informs him of the logic of returning to reality, because of course he would)

Kirk not actually fucking dying at the end of generations because I still refuse to believe they did something so dumb. Reuniting with his t'hy'la who is so overcome with emotion a tear actually escapes his eye as he cradles kirks head, which kirk gently wipes away with a finger before they kiss and embrace like on genesis when they found each other before.

Kirk not having aged for 80 years which actually lines up with the vulcan's longer lifespan so they're pretty close to the same page now and can grow old together in a way that would have been impossible otherwise

Spock telling picard he owes the man a life debt for discovering the half of his soul the universe had told him was extinguished

I just want these boys to find a happy ending okay...

[therizinotfuckingthere]

IN 25 DAYS I CAN PLAY ABERRATION AGAIN

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Do not give them Toys

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

When the human government wished to initiate trade with the Filthrax Conglomerate the Filthrax were understandably cautious. They had always been sensitive when it came to sharing technology with other species. To that end they had an extensive amount of restrictions on what could and couldn’t be traded; excluding much of their more advanced technology from ever reaching the market.

The humans in comparison were technologically inferior to the Filthrax in nearly every aspect so they pictured the humans to heavily lobby for advanced technology to be made available. So it was with some surprise that when negotiations began the humans did not lobby for advanced technology, they instead seemed deeply invested in obtaining the Filthrax toys.

This was not something the negotiators had expected. Research into human culture had showed a deep rooted sense of aggression, towards outsiders and themselves when promoted, which made them believe that the first opening bid would be towards military grade technology.

Sensing the discord, the human diplomats explained that while they would like more advanced technology to be an option, they understood the hesitance and reluctance to trade such dangerous items. They said they would be fine earning the Filthrax’s trust over an extended period of time through trade. It seemed that several human enterprises had their eyes on Filthrax toys and they seemed like a safe enough items to begin trade. The Filthrax agreed and so trade lines were opened between the great powers.

What the aliens saw as a harmless deal was in fact the first foot in the door that could never be closed.

Several million orders for toys were placed almost overnight and the economic boon was felt overnight throughout the Filthrax Conglomerate. None of them understood the fascination humans had with their trinkets but if they were willing to pay then they would be more than happy to sell. It wasn’t until the Nexus Wars began that the Filthrax would come to understand their folly.

The “Nexus” was a series of star systems that held the majority of trade lanes between the core worlds and the far flung resource rich outer zones. Trade through these lanes was deemed to be the most stable for long distance transportation so whoever controlled these regions would make considerable wealth from their stewardship.

Current stewardship fell to the Omicron Empire who had held the systems for the last several hundred years and as such used the profits it generated to fund their empires expansion. The humans wished to control these routes to fund their own imperial ambitions but had never leveled the playing field with the Omicron military to make such a transgression possible.

Then, without warning, the human military launched a series of strikes against Omicron bases and fleets in the Nexus systems triggering the “Nexus War”. The Omicrons raised their fleets and armies and dispatched them to the systems with the full intention of repelling the humans and then carrying on their counter offensive into human space. What they met however was a suddenly technologically advanced human military spouting drastic advances in military equipment not seen.

Human soldiers now carried portable shielding units that blocked everything less than a direct hit from a hover tank, while their ships launched fusion bombs carrying a heavy enough payload to shatter Timbar class battleships in half.

With this new technology, the human military had taken control of half of the Nexus systems within five months of the wars start. Other powers dotting the stars took notice of the sudden prowess of the human military, as well as the calculations predicting that within another five months the Omicron Empire would be driven from the Nexus systems. Some cheered at seeing their old rivals in the Omicron’s brought low, others sent delegations to the human government pledging alliances and treaties, many more came to join the war effort now sensing blood amongst the stars; but to the Filthrax, they quickly came to realize the part they had played in this war.

While Filthrax toys were rather unremarkable, they were unique in the way that their power sources could last an entire lifetime. Through controlled energy distribution, the Filthrax had created a rudimentary power source that, while considered basic in their society, was light years ahead of any neighboring species.

The humans were well aware of this feature.

They knew before negotiations even began that the Filthrax would never part with their advanced weaponry or technology, but they would be willing to part with something they considered nothing more than a toy. Toys that were then torn apart to get to the power source, reverse engineered, and then used to power weapons and machines of human design.

Filthrax toys were now forming the basis for a new galactic power, and they had been fooled into giving them away for nothing more than currency.

The sudden realization sent shockwaves through the upper echelons of the Filthrax. If they admitted this they would be not only be publically humiliated on a galactic scale; but also be portrayed as cobelligerents in the war. Not only that, it would invalidate their own standing treaties with other species which specifically stated they would not trade anything that could be repurposed for war. They could see trade agreements torn asunder for a dozen species with even embargos placed upon their territories. Worse yet was if they did cease trading with the humans the human government could release the information and still black list them to the wider galaxy.

So they sat and watched the war from the sidelines, contemplating that their bobbles may have very well just doomed the universe.

[zara-renata]

Alike and Cornered Beast: Sylus's POV

Summary:

I was desperate for Sylus's point of view during the first time that MC meets him in the Alike and Cornered Beast chapters of Long-Awaited Revelry. So I uh wrote it myself. I wanted to know why he touches MC so reverently but also quite brutally, so I spent a lot of time thinking about possibilities.

A/N:

Sylus x gender neutral reader/MC, second person POV (but we don't use Y/N in this house). Brief, derisive mentions of Xavier and Zayne (this is Sylus's POV after all, don't come for me). I love all the LIs, but Sylus has his hand wrapped around my throat and I see him as arrogantly having something to say about the other people who are also interested in his shiny treasure. He has mean thoughts about the other LIs, but he can be mean and we love that for him. Slightly canon divergent if you believe Sylus can't tell that MC is scared and repulsed by him until the shopkeeper informs him. I however believe this man is a little more perceptive than that. CW: violence, cursing, rude language, death, grief, murder, ok this is Sylus hello, non-consensual (non-sexual) touching of MC, metaphors involving hunger and blood, overuse of the word "lovely," but Sylus is a simp and it's mostly his POV so we must endure it. SFW, although clearly there is a thread of desire running beneath the interactions depicted ao3 link here

He doesn’t need the aether core in his eye to know how you're feeling. He can see it in the way your lovely jaw is locked tight, teeth clenched behind soft lips twisted into a tight line. The shudder you’re trying and failing spectacularly to repress, desperate to conceal your weakness: the fact that almost as much as you fear him, you hate him.

Almost from the very beginning, things have been going sideways for Sylus. First, that imbecile having the hubris to believe he could just pilfer what had clearly been claimed as belonging to Onychinus.

Second, the palpable fear that had juddered through you as he had graciously relieved the larcenist of the burden of his pathetic life, only for that fear to flare into bright, barely controlled hate once you figured out that using yourself as bait had succeeded in reeling in the largest predator in the N109 zone.

Third, even when he sauntered close to you, allowing you to drink your fill of his face, no other spark of recognition fired besides that of the leader of the most powerful criminal organization in the region. You didn’t recognize him personally at all, even as he hungrily mapped your face with his eyes and felt the bottomless well of want deepen even further in his heartless chest.

You didn’t remember a fucking thing. And for some reason, you hated him more than his worst enemies. And he had quite a large body count in the worst enemy column of the ledger of his existence.

The fear, he can understand. Onychinus is on the Hunter Association’s Naughty List, and you’re one of the Association’s true believers, a jewel in the hilt of their blade composed of naïve warriors. And like the noble, naïve creature he knows you to be, you firmly believe that any intel they fed you about him and his organization was the pure, unfiltered truth.

But the hate? He muses as he looks down into your upturned face, a face that has been carved into his dreams for weeks now, ever since Mephisto had reported back after scouting the Flux Nexus in the no-hunt zone. Ever since the night he finally found you, stumbling around and battling at the side of your sleepy, cunning rabbit of a partner in the dark wood, oblivious to the real danger perched amongst the leaves, watching through mechanical eyes. His lips twitch in an ironic smile, as he knows he should be grateful to the rabbit for the fact that you’re in front of him now, so agonizingly close. He can see the rise and fall of your chest. The breath you exhale, for him to inhale. All he has to do is let his hand do what it wants—reach out, fingertips drifting softly along the curve of your cheek, your throat, the pulse point that betrays your racing heart. You’re close enough that he could swallow you whole. A good man might be grateful, but he isn’t a good man, and he doesn’t have it in him to be grateful; he only catalogues the threat, and tucks away the thought of the light evolver to be a problem to contemplate, and solve, another day. Right now, he needs to solve the problem of why you hate him on a level that professional distaste can’t explain. The hate he sees in your bright, sharp eyes is personal.

Consequently, he might not need the aether core in his eye to know that you hate him, but he sure as hell needs it to figure out why.

He knows he should wait to use his power on you. He knows that strategically, the best play here is to move slowly, to rebuild your trust, to tease out what he wants from you, to prove to you that despite every instinct that the Association has indoctrinated in you, he is not a threat to you and never will be. He knows all too well that one can’t force trust and forge an equal relationship from coercion, but he doesn’t have the time. Not with the entire Nest on the hunt for his Prey tonight, not with his own house in chaos with Sherman running amok and running up the bill on collateral damage. He needs to know why you hate him so that he can deal with it now, all of it. To borrow the vocabulary of another one of your hapless suitors: now is the time for triage, and after he has assessed the carnage, then he will begin suturing the aftermath. Sylus may be a businessman, but he can appreciate a surgeon’s precision in approaching a crisis. Even if Sylus can’t appreciate the iceman himself, if only for the lingering looks the doctor indulges in when his patient is looking the other way. Sylus files this problem away, like the other, to be solved in quiet solitude another day.

So he indulges in a lingering look of his own, fingers twitching with the need to touch where they’re deceptively, casually resting on his hips. And then: Sylus lets himself look. He can feel the familiar warmth increase within his eye socket, the ember beginning to glow hotter and hotter, until it’s almost unbearable, and then truly unbearable, as it is every time, the price he must pay so that he may see.

A little silver apple on a chain.

A pair of smiling eyes.

An old woman’s hand placing a dumpling on a plate.

The relief of realizing that the danger has dissipated, and dinner is still waiting.

A strong, broad back, shoulders shaking with laughter as a door swings shut.

Almost from the very beginning, things have gone sideways for Sylus. He shuts his eyes, feels the heat and the pressure fade like grief with time, as the power in his aether core goes dormant once again. But you haven’t had time, have you? It’s still fresh, the wound still hemorrhaging. You think that he caused this. You’ve been bleeding for months, thinking it was his hand that wielded the knife lodged in your heart. Or rather, detonated the bomb that incinerated the only family you’ve ever known, leaving a smoking crater where your heart used to be.

Sylus’s mind races, compiling this new information, archiving the whys and hows, constructing and reconstructing his carefully assembled plans and all of the contingencies in between, laughing derisively at himself for not seeing this possibility coming. Sideways is an understatement. Things are well and truly fucked, Sylus thinks, looking into your lovely, livid face.

For a moment, an unfamiliar sensation drifts through his chest. He tests it gingerly, letting it cascade through him before he can identify it: despair. After all this time. Every year, month, week, day, second, breath, he has been carving a path towards you, littered with the broken dreams and broken bodies of others, and now he has finally found you, and what should have been his greatest victory (the spoils? His fingertips drifting up your silken skin, his fingers entwined with yours, home), may have been his greatest loss—a loss that is for once, despite all of his crimes and all of the corpses at his feet, every terrible thing he has ever done, not his fault at all.

He savors this strange feeling for a few heartbeats, indulging in it, pressing into it like a bruise, if bruises would actually remain under his skin. And then he discards it: the unexpected rarely obstructs his carefully laid plans, but nothing about you has ever been expected, has it? If he were the kind of man to resign himself to unexpected loss, like the other men clumsily flitting around you, he’d have been a dead trophy tossed at the feet of an enemy long ago. So the rules of the game have changed. So what? Sylus will adapt, because no matter his fucking luck, he is playing to win.

Because while gazing into the depths of your beloved eyes, Sylus not only saw the why of your hate, but the only thing that could soothe it. Something that you refuse to admit, even to your fundamentally honest self. Something you can’t admit, as you spend insomniac nights training until collapse, as you slice, maim, and end wanderer after wanderer, as you bare your teeth a little too savagely as blood spills beneath your fist and blade. You need vengeance. You need someone to hurt as much as you’re hurting. And not just anyone—the wanderers and criminals that you’ve trained your fists and pistols and blade on do not satisfy the blood-thirst burning through your veins. You need to punish the person responsible for the inferno in your chest. Maybe then you’ll be able to sleep again. Maybe then you’ll be able to not smile again, but at least retract the fangs that have been frightening the people around you for months now. The fangs you feared were always there, underneath the careful façade of the well-adjusted, law-abiding, healthy paragon of a hunter you’ve built to keep the nightmares at bay for years, to show your colleagues, your partner, your doctor and your superiors: Look, I’m harmless and righteous, the perfect tool, love me, love me, love me, please do not leave like everyone else I've ever loved.

And Sylus? Sylus has always, and will always, endeavor to give you everything your damaged heart could possibly desire. He knows that you will not believe that he was not the one who ripped your ‘family’ apart. And he knows that it will take time, time that he does not currently have, to rebuild what has been lost between the two of you. He recalibrates, sweeps aside the despair, and reinforces his resolve. If you want to exact vengeance on the person you think is responsible for all of your indescribable pain, Sylus will give his heart to you on a bloody platter, regardless of the pain it will cost him.

You need someone to hate right now to stay strong? So be it. He will be that for you, until he can locate the actual culprit. As he reaches out, ever so gently trailing the backs of his fingers along your hauntingly lovely face, he tells himself for a moment that he can't bring himself to use something so impersonal as the energy of his evol on you. But who is he kidding--Sylus is many things, but a liar is not one of them. He admits to himself that this is just him finally giving into his deepest desire, as he lets his hand drift from your face to the side of your neck, closing around your throat and lifting. He does not want to handle your precious form with such brute, concise strength, but he needs to hurry, he needs answers and he needs to fix this, now now now and you need him to be the enemy. This is what is best for you at this moment, in this place, and he only ever wants what is best for you, so he plays the part you need him to play:

"From your past to your future...to even all the crimes you'll inevitably commit. After all, you and I...we're the same. True kindred spirits."

As your body goes limp from his chokehold on you, he catches you, cradling your head in his hand, grateful for the strength of his body, the shelter he can provide you as he lifts you in his arms, holds you tightly, your chests finally close again, yours too full of a maimed heart and his missing one entirely, complementing each other, completing each other, even though you’re out cold and it will take so much—too much, too much, it’s already been too much time, you’re finally here, you’re finally in his arms, where you should have been all along—time to be able to have you in his arms like this but with your eyes wide open and fixed on his.

Later, when you wake up, in a dark room with this familiar stranger disdainfully staring you down through crimson eyes, as his evol winds itself around you, as it jerks you onto his big lap, you clench your teeth, you fight the tears of frustration and fury—why do you always cry when you’re angry? Is it not humiliating enough to lose control of the leash on your emotions, without tears spilling down your face to betray you to the object of your rage?­—and you fight desperately against the immovable force pinning you in place.

"I want to kill you myself," you grit out, through the tears and the snot running down your face.

And then this man places your gun in your hand, eyes bright as blood never leaving yours, in answer to the quietest, deepest buried desire of your limping heart that he has driven you to saying out loud. Your hate flares, because how dare he expose you to yourself in this manner? Who does this motherfucker think he is, casually extracting from your own mouth and offering you that which you couldn’t before name in hushed whispers, as if it means nothing to him, as if it costs him nothing, his sharp jaw relaxed, a ghost of a smirk curling the edges of his wide mouth? You fight it, the surge of hunger that chokes your panting breath—you fight it so hard, you’ve been fighting it for so long, ever since the piercing ringing in your ears began to sound that replaced your grandmother’s and Caleb’s laughter, the ringing silence that followed as debris rained down on your useless, injured body. You are not a mindless animal. You will not give in to this voracious want. You and this man holding your gun to his own heart are not the same, and never will be.

“Do you need some help? Yes? No? Maybe so?” His voice is the purr of a jungle cat, his hand, large and just as calloused as yours, envelops your own, with that same bizarre gentleness that you can’t even begin to interpret the why of, his finger drifting along your own, until it slowly tightens over yours. Your mouth says “No,” and you see how his eyes dart from yours to your lips and back again, but the hunger inside you howls as this man presses your finger against the trigger and the sound of the bullet leaving your gun drowns out all of the other noise in the cacophony of your thundering heart.

His big body jerks back, head hitting with a painful sounding thump against his melodramatic throne (ok, so it's just an antique chair, but honestly, where do villains buy ridiculous props like this?), and for an endless moment in time, the hunger is satiated, and a sense of triumphant relief courses through you instead. And then your vision sharpens, as blood the color of this man’s eyes begins to pour through the hole he—and you, we, together—just shot into his fucking heart.

He jerks the gun from your grasp and tosses it with a loud clatter to the concrete floor.

“You—Are you fucking crazy?” You’re moving before you realize it, palms pressed over his heart (a spiteful part of you hopes that it hurts him, even as you are suddenly overwhelmed with the terror that he is actually going to die, before you get any answers, before you get any help, before you’ve accomplished anything at all).

“You wanted to take my life,” he pants. It never hurts any less, no matter how many times it happens. He can feel his flesh knitting back together already, each stitch as painful as the one before. “And so you’ve taken it.”

Despite the pain, Sylus watches you leisurely, drinking in the blood splatters across your lovely neck and chin. My blood, he thinks with satisfaction. He wants to soak you in it. He wants to watch you bathe in it. He shakes his head, tucking that urge away for later contemplation. He is finally in the position to do what he has been craving for so, so long. He has given you what you want. Of course he will always give you what you want. However, that doesn’t mean that he can’t simultaneously get what he wants—Sylus strongly prefers deals when they’re win-win. He has given you what you wanted, and the slate is now clean. Now, it is time to begin negotiation of the highest stakes deal of his life: the acquisition of your body, heart and soul. Back at his side, where you belong.

“Now what? Have you already figured out how you’ll pay me back?”