1.
You are Ken Shoryeo: a young, up-and-coming MMMA (Mixed Magical Martial Arts) fighter who has been rising up the circuit ranks since taking up the hobby after a lung injury ended his high-school hopes of an otterball career.
You've just won your latest fight when a screaming red-haired, purple-skinned man claiming to be an ex-knight has barged into the venue and taken members of the crowd hostage for some reason.
“And the winner is… KEN SHORYEOOOOOO!”The announcer’s voice booms across the stadium, accompanied by the cheering of crowds. Your opponent lies defeated across the ring, victim to that final arcane uppercut that had expressly knocked his lights out. The sweet taste of victory surges through your veins, chants of your name echoing in your ears. Maybe this is where you were meant to be all along. Not splashing through water chasing after a ball, but standing tall with your feet firmly planted on solid earth. Your breath steady and strong, the referee raises your arm into the air, and the crowds roar. A smile of confidence spreads across your face.
Just then, a sudden blinding pulse of energy erupts from the spectator stands, turning cheers into gasps. Distressed screams begin to derail the festive atmosphere, as the whole stadium is roused into disorientation. Near the origin of the crisis, panicked people look to be fleeing - those that can, anyway - from what appears to be a magical forcefield, trapping a small but unfortunate group of spectators within its sinister boundaries.
“Nobody comes near, lest you wish your hands be soaked in blood!” The apparent mastermind behind the unfolding hostage situation makes himself known, his gravelly voice sounding almost as loud as the announcer’s had. With red-hair and purple skin, the man struts just outside the magical barrier, menacing a glowing claymore. His armor is dented and worn but retains its ornateness, as he carries himself with an erratic urgency.
[Memory Option: Have you seen this man before?]Stunned, the retreating crowds grow quieter, until the whimpers of those inside the magical prison are almost audible. In the tenseness, the villain takes the opportunity to begin his expected monologue.
“Oh, how the world has fallen! In every corner I look, my weary eyes cannot escape the witnessing of sin, of avarice, of a hundred hues of vice and decadence!” The man’s fervent, bloodshot eyes scan the stadium, eventually falling on the captives within the barrier.
“I was once a Knight - a member of the Order of Ash. We had set out to do great things, you know? Put mankind back on its rightful path. But alas, how mistaken our methods were. Their methods, I should say. They did not have the guts to commit to what it takes for real change. The kind of change the world is crying out for. I hear its lamenting sobs in my sleep, in my dreams… and even now… Can you hear it?...”While the red-haired man gives his speech, guards begin to surround the scene, hesitant to approach too close with the lives of the hostages at stake. The villain seems to pay them little mind, his thousand-yard stare brushing right past them into some nebulous distance.
“...Can you taste it?... The herald of a new beginning…” The villain’s gaze seems to creep onto you, and for a moment it feels like he’s staring right at you. Right into you.
[Story Option: What is the red-haired man trying to accomplish with the hostage situation?]
Author
Topic: One World³ (SG) (Read 508 times)