Odysseus626
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“I’m disappointed, old friend. I thought that you were better than this.” Calypsa musters these words, then springs her legs down, flipping the chair and breaking it on the floor. She frees her restraints, and takes off down the hall, towards the escape pods. “Dig two graves! You’ll need them both!”
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Ozymandias’ face appears on the Assassin’s screen, and smiles, having removed his mask. “How about I save all of you the trouble, and you just give me the pleasure of having all of you dead.” Ozymandias looks at Calypsa, unconscious in a chair. “I don’t care about her, not anymore. Odysseus might, but he can’t answer the phone right now. Kill her for all I care, but know this. If you do, you will break Odysseus, and he is far more forgiving than I am. If you break him, nothing will stop me. So please, actually, kill her. He’s the only trace of a conscience I have left.” Ozymandias looks at the Assassin and smiles, with a face of recognition. “You know loss, don’t you? You know what it does to a man. You know what it did to me, to you, but to do it to Odysseus, a man who has already suffered like this before… You’re worse than I am. I look forward to spending time with you in Hell, old friend, because that’s the only place left for men like me, well, not me. Just you.” The feed cuts.
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A familiar voice echoes at the back of HiFly’s mind. “Get everyone off the planet, now!”
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<i>Ozymandias sits in his throne, a dark black, ink-like substance wandering in rings around the hall. He sits, silent, before standing up and opening his red eyes. </i>”CAL, call General Gray Torraks.” He moves towards the massive screen before him, and the line is sent through, as massive holograms of planets and fleets surround him and turn red, floating among the Omega energy harvesters that serve as the pillars for his throne room. A young, tired face appears on the screen, and Ozymandias lowers his mask. “General Torraks, I trust that the fleets are in order.” The general nods his assent, nervously but enthusiastically. “Yes, sir. Quite ready.” Ozymandias smiles beneath his mask, then grimaces in turn. “Excellent. General, begin Operation Nightingale. Phase 2 has begun. The heavens will burn with our fire, and glow with our glory. For the Vengeance.” The General echoes, “For the Vengeance.” The Operation begins, as the holograms around Ozymandias swarm with new light. Harvesters descend upon the worlds, entire systems now, and begin an onslaught to consume worlds, including the planet which Apollo and his fellow teammates currently occupy. Ozymandias chuckles, secure near the Dark Straits towards the center of the Universe, and shouts, echoing through his empty ship. “Nameless One, where is your Council now? Where are your Keepers? Do you feel remorse yet? You will.”
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Calypsa draws out a grenade and pulls the pin, squirming in the Assassin’s grip and holding onto the latch just enough that it won’t go off. “Now, now. Let’s not do anything stupid, shall we?” She turns away from the Assassin to Andaluza and Apollo. “Gentleman, I can handle myself. I have my own business with this man. Leave, or I’m afraid to say that there will be an excess of body bags.”
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Calypsa flinches and reaches for her pistol, letting her hand rest on it as her back makes contact with the wall. She stops, hesitating, and stares at the assassin. “I’d say that I was surprised to see you… But you always have been a survivor.” She stops a moment, thinking. “Why have you come to me?”
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Calypsa shuffles out, but as she leaves, she points to Faye and Pandora. “You need to get those two off the streets. Find me in my hangar, if you know what’s good for you.” She then pulls out her black umbrella, and proceeds into the busy downpour.
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Calypsa grabs Apollo’s arm and sputters. “Hello… old friend. Mind letting me down?”
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((Btw, the note says: Meet at Lot Gamma-12 in Fridol’s Garage. Bring the others.))
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As the figure runs into the assassin, her hood is knocked back to reveal that it is Calypsa. She gasps at the true face of the assassin. “That’s… That’s not possible.” Calypsa restores her hood and shuffles out of the room, out into the rain.
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The cloaked figure grabs Faye’s shoulder, and slips a piece of paper into her pocket. The figure then begins walking away.
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<i>A white and purple cloaked figure follows behind Faye and the others, keeping a moderate distance but coming progressively closer.</i>
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((Faye, who are you talking to?))
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A dark, hooded figure walks across the white gravel of a nearly barren planet, the purple sun pulsing overhead. In the distance looms a dark black pillar, thin and roughly 45 feet high. Its surface is pure black, non-reflective, and shows no trace of any unevenness. It hums, as though alive. The figure pulls down his hood… Ozymandias. He approaches the pillar, and kneels down next to it, bringing himself within inches. “Are you listening? Are you ready, for what is about to happen?” The humming seems to settle, and go down an octave as though waiting. “With Jack dead, the whole order of things has been set off. I’m sure your Council is scuttling, and yet you can’t kill me yet… That would be one paradox too many.” The pillar stops humming entirely, now becoming a brooding mass. “I want you to know, that I don’t forgive you. I don’t forgive any of you, so when you come begging to me for mercy, when you come crawling, I will have none to offer.” A solitary tear rolls down Ozymandias’ face, ridden with a hidden anguish, and hits the gravel. Ozymandias picks up the gravel in his metallic gloves, and ponders it, still crouching. He then says, in almost a whisper. “I will show you fear in a handful of dust. I am Ozymandias… King. Of. Kings. Look upon my works, ye mighty… And despair.” Ozymandias stands, and throws the gravel at the pillar. He begins walking away, and OGA troops swarm over the hill, bringing in helimovers and cables, as they begin to excavate the pillar. Ozymandias steps into his nearby shuttle, and proceeds back to his nearby orbiting ship, the O.G.A. Kronos. He docks, and comes aboard, no one else allowed in except for him. He proceeds to his throne, and faces the massive view screen before him, three orbs, colored blue, red, and green at his side, waiting and watching. The red one, SAL’s mobile unit, comes forward, as though curious. “What do you say, SAL? Shall we go and pay our old friends a visit?” Files spew across Ozymandias’s viewing monitor, including a photo of Jack, a red x across the photo and, beneath, one word: deceased.
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((Ok. So, you all (mostly) know me, and I can hopefully be quickly reintegrated. Among a number of things, I’m sorry for disappearing, but these last two weeks have been the busiest, most inconvenient weeks in… Ever for me. So basically, without exaggeration, I was sick/bed-ridden for five days and am still not quite better, had one of the worst essays I’ve ever had to write on Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, a project on T.S. Eliot, arguably one of the most elaborate poets in history, and on average three hours of homework a night. But, yay, I’m back. Things are still busy, but please forgive me.))
((Also, where are we at? Am I still playing Ozymandias? I’d like to be able to. Catch me up?))