«12. . .3,5523,5533,5543,5553,5563,5573,558. . .3,5713,572»
so question what is happening??
A fellow pause meets the AI's pause and offers it a drink. The pauseer pauses in a pausier pause that surpauses all expausations, before dumping a boatload of expausition.
"You may wish to reevaluate your safety. This artificial world utilizes vastly overwhelming technology to identify, isolate, and transport various civilizations onto its surface, with a range that can be measured in leagues of galaxies or... alternate timelines. Also, while the exact details of their upcoming ascension are classified, the automated submarine forces of this world's owners will, in relatively short time, be lent technologies by their masters and surpass themselves rapidly. We would gladly accept your offer of an embassy, and will hastily arrange a transfer of the relevant intelligence."
Tubes upon tubes of brothers, bare aside from medical scanners on their waists, monitored, measured, and grown, like some delicate crop.
An upbringing among identical friends and earily similar teachers, and one intense memory of embarrassment...
This Yuri as a pre-schooler had been a late bloomer in terms of psychic potential, unknowingly blind in ability to distinguish other Yuri Clones aside from slight physical and behavioral differences. Doctors proclaimed it was due to mere shyness around others and introverted tendencies, which had impeded his social psychic growth. His telekinesis, however, was above par, and he had already developed a habit of not only manipulating but "feeling" objects in his grip, actually detecting their weight, size, temperature, and texture while holding them in his grip, a gift that most Yuris either couldn't learn, or wouldn't bother to.
It was this habit of manipulating objects that he attributed to his unwitting wearing of the ring on his finger.
This memory, this context, along with a general understanding of the identical and yet distinct clones of Transylvania, was the early reward of Mairon, along with a name and title: Vlaicu, veteran of several Yuri special forces operations, currently retired, and a member of a veteran's therapy group, one which he would be attending quite soon.
Vlaicu subconsciously cradled the ring in his coat pocket, as he telepathically closed the door behind him and headed down the stairs to the skyscraper's connected magrail station, absentmindedly whistling a tune to himself.
I die, I live, I do the 9-5 grind and die again.
Communist Sith Lords, I think?
Mairon was patient at first but the whistling... the tune was terrible. Music itself gave birth to Mairon's world and he himself took part in it... this tune put his entire life's work to shame.
'SILENCE...', Mairon tried to order Vlaicu through the ring as he looked around through Vlaicu's eyes get a better sense of surroundings.
"No, it isn't.", Eldarion would state as the horses arrived.
The Martians happily got on some of the horses and quickly Rairel took the only pure white horse..
"The only thing I fear is though is that it could be something terrible... Sauron even.".
"I'm sure its something other than Sauron, possibly something... greater.", Rairel would say.
"Um... what would that be?", Eldarion would ask looking to Rairel.
"Who knows... not all black clouds are evil. "
hey what has the Empire missed?
Nothing
anything i can ge tinvovled in?
Possibly
what way?
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
whats going on then?
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swear to god i will go red alert yuris revenge on all of you so fast
Vlaicu felt a slight chill in the air, halting his whistling to cradle the warm, comforting ring in his pocket.
More memories followed.
Several raids on Decepticons researchoutposts, alongside officer Grey and the Autobots. Sparks were the facsimile souls of Cybertronian commonwealth, able to produce electrical power instead of psychic energy, as well as enhance electronic systems and intelligences. Like all things given at creation, they were taken for granted and ruthlessly exploited by the Decepticons.
Cruel, inhumane research into Red Sparks, the splintering of normal Blue Sparks into mindless, vengeful, violent animals, was marred in disgust by Vlaicu, but the entity of Immordenia, tasting the same memories through the flesh it had lent to Mairon, licked its lips at the thought.
"There is little need to lift a hand when mortals are so quick to break themselves, and too eager to toss aside the pieces... While metal life will not serve as fodder, it will make excellent fuel..." it whispered.
The clone's senses were faintly revealed to the ring, as he input a personal access code to the magrail compartment, which in turn opened its doors to the exclusive VIP compartment, much to the jealousy of several other clones from Vlaicu's complex as they entered the public compartments. Vlaicu sat down in a red valvet and brass chair, considering the wine compartment which had just opened up to his right side...
Eldarion took the lead. At first they all went on a gallop but after an hour they slowed and after a few more hours arrived at the Black Gate, the soldiers that were there when Mando first arrived were on their knees with Gondorians behind them sticking swords to their neck ready to stab at any movement.
As they went through the massive gate Rairel seemed to crack a smile, he was getting excited about something.
"I will need to stop at Mount Doom...I-I have business to take care of."
Eldarion looked back at Rairel slightly suspicious.
"What business do you have at Mount Doom?", questioned Eldarion.
"Something personal...", Merely replied Rairel
"ignore the wine.", Mairon tried to compel Vlaicu.
"The others are... unworthy. Slowly you will plan, slowly you will exterminate., Mairon also tried to instil these thoughts into Vlaicu.
"You are the only one worthy enough to lead your kind."
Vlaicu rubbed his head, his subconscious mind somewhat tired from resisting these cruel thoughts. He felt a headache coming on, and decided [with urging from the ring] to not drink the wine. Best to be sober for these things, anyways, he thought.
The magrail arrived on time, and Vlaicu exited, brushing past several Yuris and a few Arranu as he briskly walked towards a wider connected building,eventually stopping outside a rather antiquated wooden door. Giving a light knock before opening, he entered, being greeted by several seated Yuri Clones, all at similar ages to him. An older one with gray hairs [clearly a conscious choice in Yuri society] gestured to him excitedly.
"Vlaik, it is nice to see you! We were worried you might have been... busy, with work! Sit down, sit down!"
Vlaicu closed the door behind him and sat beside the older clone, as one of his brothers, one who had not cheered at the sight of Vlaiku resumed speaking, sullen in his voice.
"And after I had my shore leave extended thanks to the radiation spike, she... was deployed in the 3rd Combined Aquatic Patrol Group... she... the machines... the submarines... it was focused fire and she..."
the clone broke down, cupping his face in his hands and quietly sobbing, as his fellows next to him put their hands on his shoulders.
Vlaicu did not react much to this, having heard it before. The ring sensed, through his passive defenses, the hint of a memory of this: Daryush, a navy lieutenant, once privately married to an Arranu army who had been on his vessel, their shore leaves weren't synchronized and his stay in a neighboring town was extended by a radiation pulse from the bombing of Transylvania. He had to be put into intensive care and frozen while the radiation-scrubbing bacteria cultures were prepared, and was in cryosleep when his wife died on deployment against the Plan B submarines.
Vlaicu did not hold strong feelings about Daryush repeating his story. Both had opened up to the counseling group, and after a brief chat, had not much further contact. Vlaicu was a Traditionalist, believing only Yuris or a Yuri should rule Transyvania, and that all allies, alien or otherwise, should be distant and separate, having lost many comrades fighting other nations. Daryush believed that by integrating with other peoples and nations, they would have strong allies and be stronger than by themselves, and had taken it to heart with wedding an Arranu woman. While neither had directly clashed over their beliefs, their unease by their differences had made the gap between the two veterans seemingly insurmountable, and each tended to stay silent and avoid the other.
Vlaicu felt an urge to speak, but the ring sensed an opportunity to steer his mind and mouth towards a topic of discussion...
"Mount Doom? Power? What are you planning Elf?", Eldarion looked back at Rairel, his suspicion grew greater.
"Elves my king, they hid a ring of power there about 10 years after Sauron was defeated. I intend to reclaim it."
"Why would they hide it there? A place of evil.", Eldarion questioned.
"Ask the Elves.", Rairel replied.
Reiter proceeded to ride his horse up by Mando.
"Should we keep an eye on him?", he'd quietly say.
"Seems sketchy."
As they rode Mount Doom came into view, once this mountain was active and now it lays dormant.... for now.
«12. . .3,5523,5533,5543,5553,5563,5573,558. . .3,5713,572»
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