EVENTS:

Ignoring the voice in her mind (or rather, minds) screaming at her to run away, Rosa takes a tentative step, then another, towards the tumorous, pulsating organ. Under Eigla's watchful eye, she opens her armored ribcage, allowing her smaller self to step out.

Seen from a normal-sized girl's eyes, the meatblob seems even larger and more imposing than usual. One of the disembodied opens its mouth, from which slowly emerges an arm, nerves dangling from its sliced wrist - Much like Rosa's own. Tentatively, the girl touches it, then intertwines their fingers in a palm-to-palm grip, much like she'd done to Mary an eternity ago. The memory of those few peaceful weeks now seemed like someone else's life, viewed through the scratched lens of an old projector.


The meatblob's hand quickly retracts, pulling Rosa's arm inside. The head's eyes turn upwards in their orbits and its cheeks deflate, twitching meekly as its throat engulfs Rosa's limb up to the shoulder. Her face slams against the wall of flesh, and she closes her eyes instinctively as blood and saliva spray onto them.






Darkness. Rosa feels as if she's falling. Something blocks out the sun, its faint outline visible high in the blood-red sky. Like a gargantuan sphere, but twisted into an impossible, non-euclidean geometry, bending space itself to try and not collapse under its own gravitational field. It takes her a moment to process what she's seeing. Much like the Echoes' minds felt like ants compared to her own, she now comprehended how utterly minuscule she was compared to the blob. An atom and a planet. It was the whole - the actual, true Rosa, seeking to sweep the last remaining wisp of its cursed existence.

The sphere curved inwards, slowly becoming a hole in the fabric of existence. A faint tendril extended from the singularity, just enough to contact her Pattern without devouring it whole.

She grabbed it with her entire being.



FRAGMENT OF MEMORY: Death


...Why. Why is she being shown this? It hurts. Is this how Eigla felt? Stop. It hurts. It hurts it hurts ithurtsithurtsITHURTS



FRAGMENT OF MEMORY: Angel Of Death



The world slowly comes back into focus. Rosa stumbles backwards, pulling her blood-soaked arm free of the meatblob's grasp. Turning her head backwards, she sees Eigla now has two arms, and is holding her sword towards the blob, ready to intervene at a moment's notice.

She looks... Worried. Worried for Rosa, her most precious friend.



________________________________________________________


Klimt decides to engage the Mud Kings. Taking advantage of the distraction provided by the stilt-walker, he leads the party closer, in a flanking position.


BATTLE:



Using the terrain for cover, they approach within barely a few yards of the creatures, seemingly unnoticed. An attack from this position could be devastating.


Battle map:

[Mudking1,Mudking2,30xMudman] - Tartarus
[Malia,Klimt] - Hades
[ ] - Limbo
[ ] - Elysium
[ ] - Eden



(If no action is given, the previous combat actions will be used next roll)

EVENTS:

Wrapping her vines around Rosa, Eigla pulls her sword out of the blob, as both her smaller and larger bodies seem to have lost their balance. The creature, meanwhile, moves its deformed shoulders in a twitching shrug.


Meatblob: "I can't say. Whoever created us was very careful to make sure we did not know - Or care to find out. All I can tell you is a codename. Though, you know it already, don't you?

After all, you even named a part of you after it. The cold, ruthless part that you brought back from our previous life.

THORNS.


Not that it matters at this point. Whoever they were, they're long dead now. Death comes to all, in time. Except for us.

WE did it, sister. We were the ones who carried the act through with their own hands, and never felt a shred of remorse for it. And then - Irony of ironies, we were banished from death, as was the one who desperately wished for it after we destroyed her heart.


That's why we have to die. Me, you, and all the ones you're carrying within. Undeath... Painful as it may be, it's not enough. The world - Eigla - deserves justice. They'll be better off without us."



_________________________________________


BATTLE!




Malia and Klimt charge towards the mudpeople, with Emilia staying behind in case her sonic capabilities are needed. The sea creatures are far too busy restraining the stilt-walker to notice their approach, so their first hits go unimpeded.


Klimt is the first to strike, lashing out at the nearest Mud King. With razor-sharp tentacles, he whips the creature's back repeatedly, tearing off huge chunks of flesh and carapace, then quickly sidestepping the monster's clumsy counterattack. Malia follows quickly, unspooling her crimson threads to lasso several of the creature's limbs. Unwrapping the doll-like seams of her arms, she activates the miniature rockets hidden in her elbows, amplifying her momentum as she jerks the noose tight, severing claws and tentacles in a swooping movement.


Malia feels an itch in her throat, and notices a few of her dress's buttons are coming loose, blood seeping through the thin fabric. Oh dear, did she overdo it? Still, the hunger for battle is too strong for her to worry about it, and she continues her onslaught.


Both Mud Kings shriek a low, whale-like howl, causing Klimt to stop and clutch at his ears for a moment. Before he even realises it, the previously sluggish horde of mudmen is upon him, grappling and biting with a fury that belies their nature as low-ranking undead. Their unaugmented jaws would normally not be enough to break through his practised defenses, but the everpresent muck slows his reactions, allowing one of the creatures to push its head beneath his crossed arms, messily gnawing off his most vulnerable spot. Even in death, such a low blow is enough to make him keel over, and within seconds the throng piles on top of him, tearing and scratching his unprotected flesh. He hears a panicked scream behind his head, and suddenly remembers Peggy's gelatinous form is still inside his backpack.



Malia sees the tide of battle turn, and redoubles her efforts against the damaged king. She whips it repeatedly, breaking bones with the sheer force of her strikes, leaving deep gashes upon the creature's mud-covered flesh, that immediately begin to gush profuse amounts of blood. Delicious, dark red blood, filling the air with that most alluring scent, a fragrant bouquet of pain and iron...

The scratching in her throat becomes too much to bear. No! No more holding back - At least not in front of such a magnificent feast! The straps on her back snap loose as her hollow body comes undone from mouth to navel, opening up into an oversized vertical maw, lined with razor-sharp fangs and thousands of writhing tongues. Stretching her fabric to its limits, she flies upon the Mud King like a living weighted net, fully enveloping the twelve foot creature in her distended body. Threads wrap around the monster's bulk, and she slowly begins to compress her prey, closing herself much like an overtight corset, or a carnivorous plant.

A series of sickening crunches can be heard as Malia's density increases, and mud-laced blood spurts out from every seam as the Mud King's body is crushed into a fifth of its original volume. Even the mudmen cannot help but stare, as one of their leaders is so quickly turned into a grim repast. Klimt's vision is blurred by the mud on his face, but he still sees enough to realise the horrible nature of his ally's ravenous attack.


Within seconds, the only remnants of the expired king are the deep pool of blood on the ground, and Malia's grossly inflated body. She smiles toothily, struggling to keep her torso closed against the few sillhouettes of broken bones and organs that still push against her skin. She feels positively refreshed, and loses 1 Madness. The other Mud King tries to bat her away with one of his tentacles, possibly seeking to avoid the fate of its fallen comrade, but even his mutant strength unable to shift the sheer mass of her current form.


Klimt, meanwhile, gains 1 Madness. Emilia seems to be dry heaving.

Emilia: "H-h-heretic...!"


Battle map:

[Mudking1, Mudking2, 30xMudman, Malia, Klimt] - Tartarus
[ ] - Hades
[ ] - Limbo
[ ] - Elysium
[ ] - Eden

EVENTS:

The meatblob drags its fingers across the ground in frustration, grinding the skin raw and leaving deep, blood-soaked ruts upon the gravel.


Meatblob: ”Fool! Forgetfulness doesn’t bring absolution, and your amnesia is no excuse. Deep down, you know all too well who you really are - and what you’ll become once again, in time. Me, you - we are the fakes, the ones trying to end this madness. The true Rosa is an emotionless, inhuman killer, and if we miss this chance to end her, she’s sure to return.

You talk of Eigla’s love - what do YOU know of love, wretched thing? Your relationship is a pale mockery of actual emotions. You were reformed into war machines, caring about one another only because it’d make it easier for you to work as a squad. It is a pile of lies and mental programming, nothing more.

And then - If I don’t kill you, what will happen? What will Eileen think when she finds out what you did? Let me tell you, for she lives in me as well. Hate. She will despise and hate you with every fiber of her being, and the suffering will unmake her mind. You will be hunted by her instead of me, and this will happen all over again. Is that what YOU want?

No. The circle must end here. Now.”