The silence, intermittent with crackling burns and loosed debris. Clouds of dust kicked up, kept airborne by upwelling resurgent heat. That orange barrier dissipated its coverage and that heat was felt by all. A solar wind that denied its previous incarnations, the red menace lost in its own gravity, the black hole at its center enslaved by a new mass within. Whatever Seth had done… had turned that new star neutron. The air was buzzing and raising every hair, but it was denied its ionization. Just grey clouds left against a sea of colors and motifs. And glares transitioning the wrong way round.

The explosive destruction of his suit had recoiled the hardened lines, but something in those stares refused to see any change. Aegis watched like all the others, a kindred burned in fear was finding its out, while inquisition fought for the truth of what she was seeing. But his paradoxes just continued to mount. Seth had fought and dared to retrieve that suit, risked and burned everything to get it, but now it was scattered all over the battlefield like discarded training weights. This didn’t make any sense. But the en mass hesitation that surrounded her filled that void quickly. No one here feared the power displayed, they’d seen greater outpourings before. Felt the heat of real stars brought too damn close for comfort. No… what they all feared was the silhouette that stood shaking off what was left of its armor. Restored horns arcing excess power upward and tousled by hair seemingly set free. Claws flexing open like they’d always been there. And… and that tail skimming the ground behind it despite its plates shattering to scrap.

“Heh…!”

Hothead, of course, broke that solidifying silence.

“You… You think losing a few pounds is gonna-“

His vain attempts at denying what he was seeing, what he was feeling, were lost in Erdwut’s demanding hand put before him. All denial, all fear. His eyes were locked on like a wolf to a much bigger predator, refusing to look away, refusing to close for even the millisecond it took to keep them. His stoicism was cracking, the dread under that mask was seeping through and pulling his own nightmares up with it. The grip on Eschenwald was boiling, the air around him fighting for its stature against the outpouring from that silhouette. But faint denial still crept in, hesitated his break, kept the volcano down just enough to rumble in place. But that cloud of dust could only hold for so long. And Seth could scarcely deny what he felt as well.

The heat was everywhere, but it felt little more than a comfortable day. The dust scraped its infinitesimal paths upward against his skin. But… all Seth could feel was it outline the char he’d been left with before. Skin hardened to much smaller plates all their own. He flexed his hand, the bony protrusions were there too but… he could feel the set patterns over his fingers, felt the points fail to stick into his thickened palm. The dust pitilessly caressed his body as he shut his eyes, an outline in his head clear against its flow. His foot dug into the softened baked ground, gait shifted upward without a thought spared for its difference. And that grotesque weight shifting behind him, but tied to him like an unconscious organ. The feelings were strange yet comforting, different yet completely normal. But what he couldn’t feel though… was the weight of that suit keeping him down.

The glares of all joined as one, all staring down at that clouded silhouette. All waiting for, dreading for it to dissipate and render truth to their nightmares. Whimpers almost broke their standing, but they were all lost in the demanded rally. In that broiling, scrutinizing volcano following every contour, every slight movement, every inch of offending form come free of its apparent mold. Aegis could feel the last vestiges of Erd’s mask, of the cap holding back the true eruption, crack and reveal the horror beneath. But also another mask behind was failing in a different direction. Maglev was falling, fighting hyperventilation as best he could. His eyes were dinner plates and she could only guess he was shaking beneath his cape. But all of it was overshadowed and lost. As the eyes of that mind flaying silhouette opened yet again, blue lights dimmed and expanded by the dust. Dimming further as the last traces swirled away and the baking ground cooled… as that collective horror found its physical form.

The cloud parted and all perceptions lit on fire, driven by fear made true and callous jests made refuted with nuclear fire. An armor of greyed scales rendered glossy by their fresh revealing. Claws that gleamed with blades made to rend all. Talons that carried considerable weight above far more devastating edges. A tail matched and countering every movement. And a maw set with teeth seeking the flesh of everything. Those glares recoiled, every fiber of every being fought to reconcile with what they were seeing. To reassure that they were all dead… That they defeated them all… That all of their terror was over and done with… That even their set aside last was nothing but dust now. But there in the center of their chosen battlefield, there where their target stood and burned away his façade, there where one enemy once laid torn between itself. All that stood there now… was a laceroid. Crowned with headpiece and powered beyond its slain brethren, but a laceroid all the same. A return of a terror that should have stayed dead.

Seth felt the sun replace the heat as his cover receded, or more aptly felt the full brunt of the consequences of his accepted truth. The abject fear washing over him, all those hardened eyes losing their edge. He’d over done it… as always. But who gave a shit! This was the eventuality that the Garkah had feared, a truth that needed hiding beneath armor and conduction, a truth he’d feared in the back of his mind but knew all too well to be his real curse. But Seth was tired of hiding it, tired of letting his truth be dictated by others who knew nothing of who or what he was. So, why not answer at least one of those questions. Even if it costs him more than it was worth, it sure felt worth it to him. His body felt unimaginably light, not just because it was no longer anchored by nearly a ton of metal and lies. He lifted a claw up to see it for himself, feeling it glide through the air and nearly blinded his extra senses. The electron threads in him were indecipherable from his material body, what used to be separate cords that splayed out deep within were now just straight up encompassed everything. Their luminosity was narrowly visible, but may as well make him a walking star to those with ability enough to see it. Looking down, he understood why his hair was gone before, nothing but a sea of scales contouring nicely to muscle buried beneath all the way down his-

‘…*sigh*’

He ran his new found claw over his head, skimming the horn he’d broken off before and instead skimmed the thick hair still shocked on his head.

‘Of course it’s still there. And let me guess… still stark white.’

He let that sigh escape his maw, almost expecting a hiss to be toned to it, but instincts and anatomy denied that. He wasn’t some dollar store lizard, he was a Garkah without question. Well… at least to his questions. To everyone else…

He was a laceroid that escaped its rightful death. And this offense had awakened that stoic thermoclastic annihilator. Aegis braced for dear life as the heat exploded out, as that mask shattered into fiery ejecta, and as that majestic mountain was fully denied by the Earth’s wanton fury. Erdwut’s face contorted to near teeth shattering anger, his excessive black hair getting blown high by the raging furnace he’d become. All eyes recoiled from their terror locked realization and found more fright in the burning fury that they’d followed here. And all watched as that molten sword rippled and tore itself to slag. Emotion and will manifest roiling as both failed their stay, slowly solidifying as that will turned tainted. That blinding metal ripped to the surface, but with greater vicious form from its previous condemnation. The molten slag spiked to edge and turned to gleam, the blade becoming a serrated bastard of denied closure. Its length increased and ended with the last gust of exuded hatred, the grit turned to purpose and the blade its instrument. All eyes, but two, had dreaded this in tandem with their relived nightmares. A total meltdown that threatened to break their risen will in twain. Erdwut had lost all control, and his warpath had but one accepted end.

But that end seemed to be lost to the goings on. The heat just another comforting ray as he felt through himself and dimmed his brilliance with an equal dose of focus. Threads were bundled tight, cords were wound even tighter. Artificial muscle of inscrutable size rendered every movement barely an effort, let alone delayed. His scales felt heavier than his old skin, at least relatively, but presented an almost perfect slate he could mold with. Not quite programmable, but just as good as the metals in his suit. If not wholly better. Certainly a more agreeable thing to alter all things considered. He drowned down the outside world as it recoiled, his heartbeat was a better listen. Not too dissimilar, but fairly continuous, like a machine of clockwork going round and round. The pump hitting four beats in symmetrical succession. His lungs filled around it, cushioned it on all sides. His gut was a bit lower, and a bit empty. But he didn’t feel hungry so that was good. He didn’t need to look any lower than that right now, definitely not the right time for it! His legs felt springy, toes bearing all his weight, and adding some height.

‘Neat.’

Those toes though flexed through the ground like it was butter, talons spiking through without resistance. He would need to be careful about those. Lastly… this tail. Some direct control told him it was all his, but outside of that it swished all its own.

‘Heh, great. As if it wasn’t hard enough hiding emotions, now I have a traitor wagging behind me.’

He smirked that toothy maw, opening his eyes back to the outpouring of volcanic vengeance staring down on him with none of its stoicism spared.

Aegis had seen this side of Erdwut only once, but knew full well there was nothing stopping him now, as that serrated Eschenwald rose to parity with that contorted darkened grit. All she and everyone else could do was watch and brace as that shining personification of the Earth's mantle locked in on his shoulder, and another outpouring of heat pressed against them. His eyes were nearly alight, his strain audible, the lip of the crater beneath his feet boiling to glowing slag. Those standing behind in hopes of supporting shifted for their lives, the Elite backed up inch by inch to not end up collateral damage, even Para all the way at the back was wincing away at the heat. Something had to snap, the ground was glassing all around him, the air was lighting on fire, and anymore held back tension was going to- *craBAAANNGGG*

The lip, the ground, the surviving asphalt behind exploded back in molten eruption. A trench of whited melt left in the wake of that once majestic mountain taking flight with vicious lateral direction. Erdwut burst into the crater with none of the care or control the face of the Elite should have, all of it burned away by the fires of overriding vengeance. Gravity forced him down, but his speed only increased as his feet glassed a path toward their only goal. The gleam of Eschenwald peaking as every ounce of power he had and could burn was put into an almighty swing to lop off this reborn terror’s head and end this hell again and for good. But expectation…

…Are always thwarted. A flash against that peaking condemning gleam, a claw shot up in line and matched to the teeth of the blade, and all that force cracked nothing but the air and ground. An almighty perception turning that unrepentant speed and force to a manageable scale. Seth parried and that blade recoiled, along with all the air in that crater. That wrathful stare that had never looked away was face to face with him, an open fissure leading straight to the molten core of the Earth, threatening to light this world on fire if need be. Yet Seth saw it wince, Erdwut feeling the rebuke through all of his over expressing rage. No… not rage. Too misplaced and far from kindred, more like simple wrath left to fester too long and never given a closing out. Stemming deeper, facing outward. All consuming, selfish, but facing completely the wrong way round.

‘No wonder he hid it.’

But it still held sway, and refused to give up after just one rebuke. Erdwut yelled for all this wrath was worth, perception desperate to close the gap between. He pulled his new inertia around, Eschenwald’s gleam rounding for an opposing strike. No, as many strikes as his wrath could muster. This stagnant pool of emotion ran too deep, but it opposed an ocean as yet unfathomable.

That gleam turned to incomprehensible glare as it tried to carved lightning fast through defenses denying it, a blur too vicious to discern by the better part of the massed perceptions. An equal blur matching it at every beating crack, serrated teeth dulling against claws rendered harder by pure direction. A heat wake splattered with every contact, force washing the strikes farther than the gleam. The dusted crater gashed and glassed in redirected cuts, chewing through the already destroyed battlefield with callous abandon. But each strike and defeat rent more than just the ground.

Spalling, white hot from gleam and friction, sprayed and expanded the atmosphere of oppressive heat. The serrated teeth of malicious vengeance were whittled down to nubs to show the disparity with earnest. But Erdwut refused to abate, wild stare still locked on Seth’s blue haloed eyes. Eyes that still bore his mother’s hazel, and could see Erdwut’s grip finally slipping. The next strike flashed away, perception slowed like all the rest. Eschenwald’s new teeth were but carved up crevasse, cracks extending into its perfect surface. The claw set to match it once again shifted down, skimmed the dulled edge through its wanton heat distortion, and found its pivot point just before the washed out guard. A softened spike upward shot the blade from Erdwut’s grip, the slightest imperfection enough to cut him off at last. His grip flung open, the abused handle freed, and the tortured blade launched upward away from its out of control wielder.

Erdwut’s last swing followed through unlike the rest, empty force pushing an empty hand through the motion. The sudden realization broke his fugue, he’d been disarmed and could do little but break his stare and look down at his empty hand. A flash of comprehension cracking through the fury, a dose of the fear fueling it flooding out the engine. He was rendered defenseless in a matter of milliseconds and he was overextended. He tried to push his momentum back, fight his own input and back up. But all it won him was his stare returning to those hazel eyes as a talon toed foot was locked in on his chest, and set to shatter that blinding wrath. Impact shot him into the dusty incline behind, force ricocheting off his back end over end and through the lip he’d glassed with his overly dramatic breaking. The force cut, and sense returned by liberal removal of the air in his lungs, Erdwut smashed a foot back to rip this tumble with sacrificed asphalt. The road rutted as his inertia was cut short, and a mixed stare of anger and fear flared back up between recoiling Elite. As that gleaming, loosed, cracked apart beacon came down from its fall... right into a waiting claw.

Eschenwald’s shining and distorted brilliance was finally there for all to see. Wrath mutated teeth mutilated and cracked, perfect surface scarred by fissure and uneven ripple. Erdwut had pushed his blade beyond its ability, beyond his own. An extension of himself, an extension of the malice that was buried within him. The heat sizzled Seth’s scales, a rejection or just too much energy put in to contain. The leather and handle stayed strong in spite. Unbreakable… but not quite by normal means. Seth swiped the blade down to the side despite its rejecting burn across his palm. The weight was negligible to him but it almost sloshed in tandem with his move. Extra force to impart with every swing. The cracks on its surface widened, its malicious brilliance was unstable and terminal. A slow pivot brought it up in front of him, a hand cupping the edge… and seeking through its form.

Threads extended into it yet again, but with broader purpose and more definition. But… nothing of permanence could be felt within the blade. Just raw energy made solid and mutable. An artifact, hard to describe and even harder to calculate, the handle though was more than just a bearer of this molten sword. A tethering, paracausal,

‘What is this, fucking magic…?’

There was purpose, thought, the sword had a will all its own, but it was a lot more discerning than Buster’s. Seth could feel its ire in the burn across his scaly palm. Whether it was purely the sword or a leftover of Erdwut’s wrath was even more difficult to decipher, its being shut tight and denying him as unworthy. But he didn’t really care for wielding it… only setting it free of the cancer it had taken in. The burn was defied in kind to the will’s surprise. Both hands clamped down on their grips, claws digging into the gleaming imperfect surface. Seth contorted his maw into a sinister smile and flexed a talon loose of the ground. The will tried to burn through him, to show fear through its malignant turmoil, but it found no flinch and no reprieve. Sometimes you have to just cut out the cancer by any means necessary.

The ground atomized, a knee flashed upward, and that gleam was broken for all its held wrath was worth. A geyser of shards, a true eruption for the entire damn city to see, a pillar of gleaming pure malignance shattered to the nothing it meant in truth. The broken blade exploding up, shining pieces lighting the air, melting back to their molten states and fizzling away to trailing smoke and slag. A dazzling eruption stretching far above the meager buildings that surrounded the battlefield. A display to all that this is not a fight won with strength against strength This was no normal laceroid they were faced with. And this wasn’t going to end the way they wanted it to.

The bare handle, will inside reeling from its needed amputation, twirled in Seth’s palm. Threads found purchase amid the reeling, information, something at least to tell him a bit of its own truth. The blade really did pull power from the Earth’s mantle. A marginal piece that wouldn’t be missed, but enough to show that Earth had a champion that bore its fury. Though its caveats for worthiness seemed… broader than Seth expected. It still rejected him, he still didn’t care, but it accepted strength of will more than the physical. And… and it held someone else above Erdwut.

‘That… certainly explains a lot.’

But for some reason it refused to let Seth see, refused him a deeper look, more definition to its plight.

‘Eh… Fine. You’ll probably find your chance someday. Who knows, maybe I can help with that as well.’

The will recoiled, but found no opening to retort as it suddenly whipped around and found itself thrown back to where it belonged. The recoiling Elite braced as the ballistic projectile hurtled straight toward them. But the streaking handle impacted right into Erdwut’s waiting hand, a reignited wrath burning in the glare staring back down its trajectory.

Picking himself back up into his melted and crashed through position, Erdwut did all he could to deny his loss of face. But the withering toothy smirk staring back up at him denied his denial. He couldn’t stand alone in this. His façade was broken open, but even his full might proved insufficient. The side eyed glares from his fellow Elite brought his fractured ego back in line, this wasn’t just his fight. And Seth wasn’t going anywhere. All eyes turned back to him though, a nice distraction and opening display to set the tone. The hardened stares got harder as the dust settled. That fear was waning even as the reality was proven, they all wanted a piece of him, all wanted their pound of flesh for the hell they’d experienced, for the loss they’d felt, or just to finally prove some amount of worth in comparison. Whatever their reasons, the League’s best were staring down on him, waiting for a slip up, waiting for the grand go ahead. But all Seth could feel, all he could show in return was a smirk that said all it needed to.

“I’d like to see you try.”