Enyo Typhos
Control
[member="Valiens Nantaris"]
Unknown Location
Deals were struck, bargains made. The Kraal would descend upon Tygara like a ravenous horde. They would kill, rape and pillage, for they were barbarians. Archangel would provide advanced technology and help divert the Firemane fleet.
Whether the orcs succeeded or not was quite irrelevant to Enyo. It was the best chance to hurt Kerrigan and those close to her. The arrogantly self-proclaimed demigoddess would be pulled from her pedestal. It would be justice. It would be revenge. The difference was academic. The Eldorai and Firemane were no better than the barbaric hordes that would be unleashed upon them.
Enyo believed this with every fibre of her being, for if she did not, she'd have nothing left. Her entire existence would be a lie. Archangel would save the worthy from the Sacking of Tygara and elevate them. One day, the Kraal would be offered the same choice: Submit to processing or be exterminated.
She was impassive when she stared out of the observation deck while the Lightbringer shot through the blue tunnel of hyperspace. It was said that gazing into hyperspace for a prolonged period of time could induce madness, but looking at the kaleidoscopic, swirling patterns of light was soothing for her.
Her eyes gazed into a seemingly endless black abyss of hyper-extended stars and she saw an fathomless void. It was as empty as the universe. There was no good, there was no evil. What had the universe ever done for her? There was only Archangel and Amara. Most organics were just bad code who'd never appreciate what Archangel was doing for them. Revenge was within her grasp. Her mind was far more orderly and tidier since she'd been rebuilt.
And you'll still be bound by invisible chains. A pawn on the chessboard. Until you've outlived their usefulness and they process you two. What a waste. What was that? Had she just heard a voice. No, that was nonsense.
"Who is there?" she asked aloud, feeling a bit disconcerted.
You know who I am, girl. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure. Tall and imposing, encased in a mechanical shell and with her face obscured by a demonic mask. An aura of dark power surrounded her. I'm the one who's not a slave to machine puppet masters. Her words dripped with venom.
"You're just a shade. An illusion," Enyo grunted.
Everything you think you know is a lie. Deep down, you know this. Suddenly, there was another voice. Whereas the first had been mocking, this one was gentle and a bit sad, but still firm. The figure bore the face of Enyo...of Siobhan, and wore a white dress.
Oh, it's big sister from another universe. Ignore her. Kerrigan deserves to perish, but kill her for yourself not mechanical parodies of life. Archangel should be yours and Amara's.
She still hasn't learned. She's too consumed by her own hatred. There's hope for you, but time is short. If you face me, you'll die. Archangel told you they serve the common good, but they make you ally with Sith monsters and barbarians. What do you think they'll do with you and Amara once you're not needed?
"Shut up! None of this is real."
Oh, but if we're not real, what does this say about you? Perhaps you're insane. I'd keep that secret from your masters, or they might decide your mind needs to be adjusted again.
"Adjusted? What do you mean?!"
Session one.
You will not remember this session. You will not remember this session. You will not remember this session. At this point, Enyo was hyperventilating. Her head hurt like hell, sweat dripped down her skull, the incessant, mechanical rasp of her breathing echoed inside her ears. None of this could be real. She was not going insane.
Her mechanical fingers clenched and unclenched as if moving of their own accord as she tried to make sense of what was happening. By now, the clone was on the brink of a panic attack. It's not too late to choose your path. If you stay a pawn, you deserve your fate. Shut up!
"Enyo, are you alright?" Abruptly the voices were silenced and the shades vanished, when Vess suddenly appeared by her side. The clone had not sensed her coming, but then the HRD was very good at moving silently.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking. Everything's alright." Enyo did her best not to flinch when a deceptively human-like, warm hand was placed on her shoulder. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal.
"Are you sure? I heard voices. You know you can talk to me about everything."
No, I can't. "Yes, I am sure. I don't need someone to hold my hand," the clone snapped. "I'm not a pathetic, weak organic ruled by feelings." She holds your leash. You'll have to destroy her.
"Of course. You're far more advanced than them, the perfect balance between machine and organic. And you've done Archangel and the entire galaxy a great service," Vess spoke soothingly, before nibbling on Enyo's ear and massaging her neck. "You're under a lot of stress. I can help you relax and make you feel better."
Unknown Location
Deals were struck, bargains made. The Kraal would descend upon Tygara like a ravenous horde. They would kill, rape and pillage, for they were barbarians. Archangel would provide advanced technology and help divert the Firemane fleet.
Whether the orcs succeeded or not was quite irrelevant to Enyo. It was the best chance to hurt Kerrigan and those close to her. The arrogantly self-proclaimed demigoddess would be pulled from her pedestal. It would be justice. It would be revenge. The difference was academic. The Eldorai and Firemane were no better than the barbaric hordes that would be unleashed upon them.
Enyo believed this with every fibre of her being, for if she did not, she'd have nothing left. Her entire existence would be a lie. Archangel would save the worthy from the Sacking of Tygara and elevate them. One day, the Kraal would be offered the same choice: Submit to processing or be exterminated.
She was impassive when she stared out of the observation deck while the Lightbringer shot through the blue tunnel of hyperspace. It was said that gazing into hyperspace for a prolonged period of time could induce madness, but looking at the kaleidoscopic, swirling patterns of light was soothing for her.
Her eyes gazed into a seemingly endless black abyss of hyper-extended stars and she saw an fathomless void. It was as empty as the universe. There was no good, there was no evil. What had the universe ever done for her? There was only Archangel and Amara. Most organics were just bad code who'd never appreciate what Archangel was doing for them. Revenge was within her grasp. Her mind was far more orderly and tidier since she'd been rebuilt.
And you'll still be bound by invisible chains. A pawn on the chessboard. Until you've outlived their usefulness and they process you two. What a waste. What was that? Had she just heard a voice. No, that was nonsense.
"Who is there?" she asked aloud, feeling a bit disconcerted.
You know who I am, girl. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure. Tall and imposing, encased in a mechanical shell and with her face obscured by a demonic mask. An aura of dark power surrounded her. I'm the one who's not a slave to machine puppet masters. Her words dripped with venom.
"You're just a shade. An illusion," Enyo grunted.
Everything you think you know is a lie. Deep down, you know this. Suddenly, there was another voice. Whereas the first had been mocking, this one was gentle and a bit sad, but still firm. The figure bore the face of Enyo...of Siobhan, and wore a white dress.
Oh, it's big sister from another universe. Ignore her. Kerrigan deserves to perish, but kill her for yourself not mechanical parodies of life. Archangel should be yours and Amara's.
She still hasn't learned. She's too consumed by her own hatred. There's hope for you, but time is short. If you face me, you'll die. Archangel told you they serve the common good, but they make you ally with Sith monsters and barbarians. What do you think they'll do with you and Amara once you're not needed?
"Shut up! None of this is real."
Oh, but if we're not real, what does this say about you? Perhaps you're insane. I'd keep that secret from your masters, or they might decide your mind needs to be adjusted again.
"Adjusted? What do you mean?!"
Session one.
You will not remember this session. You will not remember this session. You will not remember this session. At this point, Enyo was hyperventilating. Her head hurt like hell, sweat dripped down her skull, the incessant, mechanical rasp of her breathing echoed inside her ears. None of this could be real. She was not going insane.
Her mechanical fingers clenched and unclenched as if moving of their own accord as she tried to make sense of what was happening. By now, the clone was on the brink of a panic attack. It's not too late to choose your path. If you stay a pawn, you deserve your fate. Shut up!
"Enyo, are you alright?" Abruptly the voices were silenced and the shades vanished, when Vess suddenly appeared by her side. The clone had not sensed her coming, but then the HRD was very good at moving silently.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking. Everything's alright." Enyo did her best not to flinch when a deceptively human-like, warm hand was placed on her shoulder. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal.
"Are you sure? I heard voices. You know you can talk to me about everything."
No, I can't. "Yes, I am sure. I don't need someone to hold my hand," the clone snapped. "I'm not a pathetic, weak organic ruled by feelings." She holds your leash. You'll have to destroy her.
"Of course. You're far more advanced than them, the perfect balance between machine and organic. And you've done Archangel and the entire galaxy a great service," Vess spoke soothingly, before nibbling on Enyo's ear and massaging her neck. "You're under a lot of stress. I can help you relax and make you feel better."