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Poppin' Arms Guild ~ Main Lobby

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unrepentantAuthor

A cat that writes stories.
Location
UK
Pronouns
they/she
Partners
  1. purrloin-salem
  2. sneasel-dusk
  3. luz-companion
  4. brisa-companion
  5. meowth-laura
  6. delphox-jesse
  7. mewtwo
  8. zeraora
Brisa eyed Bahamut with care. What was the right play, here? He'd always been resistant to being understood, and so, she did not understand him. Had he meant to stun Nero, or was his mind so broken that glimpsing it dismayed the unprepared? Could it be done safely...?

"I don't reckon we are done, Bahamut," she said, softly. "Would you mind stayin' put? I'd care to speak with you freely."

A demand for sympathy and anger at a lack of aid from those that gave aid to beleagured worlds. She called to mind what she'd heard from Luz some weeks or months ago... That Bahamut's universe, contrary to the hope-fuelled paradise of Cibus, was a wretched one, doomed to misery. She recalled what it had been like to fight the Blacklight Eternal in a cruel realm unlit by hope.

"I'm sorry to hear of such a thing. Yer own universe sounds . . . cursed."
"I wish that you had not suffered so, Bahamut. An' fer an end to that sufferin', fer you and all those souls so imprisoned."

Even hearing it second-hand, even concerning a creature such as him, Brisa had felt alike.

"D'you think we all are unfeelin' t'yer pain?" she asked, willing the light-dragon to remain where he floated. "I can show you. I can let you feel it."

She raised a paw, palm facing up, and let her pads glow a gentle gold.
 
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Ambyssin

Gotta go back. Back to the past.
Location
Residency hell
Pronouns
he/him
Partners
  1. silvally-dragon
  2. necrozma-ultra
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. dreepy
  6. mewtwo-ambyssin
Bahamut eyed her silently. There she was, trying to fix things again. Always wearing her heart on her sleeve. Trying to take the empathy route... instead of sympathy, like her partnered shade.

He glanced down at the golden glow. And then it happened again. A chink in Bahamut's mental armor. Only instead of someone else trying to pry into it, that which was inside started to poke out.

Brisa wouldn't feel anything, but she would see something in the back of her head. A crystal mask. Vaguely Toffee-like in appearance, as the corviknight had bared her heart out in the Colosseum. The literal rubies in its eye sockets sparkled. Silver liquid dribbled down the mask. The droplets themselves held images.

Something vaguely giratina-like wrapping wings around a starcloud. Flames swallowing both.

A face Brisa might've recognized: a delphox. But one that looked to take pleasure from the flames burning around them.

Small planets scattered around... ripped apart by large, purple chains. The more they weaved through the droplets, the more clear they became: heads like Eien's true form.

Five heads would weave around Brisa's mind's eye until they loomed over the last droplet: a silhouette of Cibus.




Y̷͖̮̪͋̊͌̓͒͒͜o̵̥̭̦̎̂̑̉̄̈́́̍̀͠ų̶͎̞̑͛̔͑̀͐̚͘͝ ̶͈̹̘̟̣̱̬͈̣̦̺̰͂͐͛̄̒͊́̊͛̈́̉̽̔̃́̏͆͒̅̈́͛͂̿̚c̶̡̛̞̯͕̖̩̙̣̦͓͇̰̬͇̺͎̘̗̥̳͍͍̆̏̄̀̆̽̌͂̔͐̔͑͐͂̈́̾̆̂͊̈́͆͒͋͘͠ͅͅȧ̶͙͕̘̗̦̠̩̊̀͘n̷̬̪̟̋'̷̨̢͕̫̜̜͇̠͓̞͉̹͔̥̱̒̑͜t̷̨̧̡̧̤̻̫̤̭̼̬̤͓̼̬͇̥̟͊̿̾̽̎͌̒̇̆̐͑͂̏̆̓̀̏̽̕̚ͅ ̸̧̢̣͖̤͓̰̳͙̣̹̝̮̻̰̞͕̟͙͔̩́̐̍͐̀͜͠ȟ̸̨̨̛̝̗̝̬̣̤̪͕̗̪̙̰͔̪̈́͋͗̍̒͋̀̉̋͐̀́̕͘͠e̷̹̅͌̅͛͆̊́̌̂̉̊̎́̽̈́̾̑̊̓̐̑͝ḽ̴̨̩̖͕͙̼̮̱͕̥̬̳̜͍̼̘̹̇̒̽͌͛͐̌̀̂̄̔͂́͝ṕ̸̨̧̟͙̺̥͉̠̱͉̟̱̂̍̑́́͌͊͒̄̏̀̐̈́̌̎̕ ̷̢̧̺̦̯̯̦͍̹̙̼̩̝͖̻̺͙̺͕͚̀͌̕͜͜ͅm̶̡̨͓̝͔̼̙̟͔̯̪͚͇̯̺̔̈́͛̔͂̈́͂̈́͝ͅȩ̶̼̯͓͖͕̲̳̯̘̣̺̬̬̮̯̓̂́͘͜.̸̧͇̝̬̲̱͓̟̣͚̣̀͐́̃̓́̑̍̿͊̾̽̑̿̀́̓̚̕ͅ ̶̡̨͈͇͎̗̯̯͓̦͉͚̫͛̑̓̿̓̆̍̿͐̌́̏̀͊͘̚Y̷̢͎̹͖̆̅̿́̂̓̀̎͠͠ȯ̸̩͖͔̹̪͚̮͔͛̽̓͗̌̄̀͋̆͛̀̽̽̉͛̓̋̚̕̕͠͝ư̸̩͎͔͙̖͕̼̠̤̪̟̫͓̣̺͇͈̩̟̰̓̈́͊̊̃̍͒̂̇̆̈́͂́̔͌́̑̑̎͘͘̚͘͠͠ͅͅ ̵̛̯̗̲̪͂̊͑͗͑͒̐̒́̍̐́́͘͝͝͝ͅd̷̢̟̖̘̹̳̙͚̤͉̰̻̥̥̜͈͚́̽͛̒͜͝͝ò̴̢̢̗̯̩̠͕̜̣̥̘̗̼͙̝̰̙̺̺̫̳̙̩̹̀̂͊̉͆̉͑̈́͒͒̾̏͐̕̕n̸̡̛̛̥͍̲͉͈͙̗̮̭̯̯͎͑͐̅̂̎̂̑͐͐͛̃̆̊̆̊̕͠'̵̛͔͍͙̻̍̈̈́͋͊͗̓́̓̈́̒̂̈͒̈́̍͠͝ẗ̶̨̯̖͙̙̥̼͉̯̪̺̭͎̲̳̤͙̠̊͌̄̋̉̈́͛̋̈́̓̋̐͌̓̀́̈̒̏̉̇́͊̚̕͜ ̷̛͙̦̀͌̃͗̆̚ě̶͎̥̦͍͚̥͓̙͇̓̐̅v̶̧̛̙̺̳̙̻͎̗̣͈̝̯͓̞̗͋̃͋͗̿̀̈́̂͗́͑̆̍̊͐̽̇̕̕e̴̱̫͙̙̓̈́̈̑̍͛̈̄͑̽͌̃͘̕͠ͅn̵̨̧̢̧̡̥̜̻͚̯̙̦͍͈̼̙͈̣̪͔͔͕̝͋̂͜ͅͅͅ ̸̢̛̪͔͙̰̰̦̹͔̼̤͖̼̯͔͔͚̬̃̍̀͑̀͐̈͗̀͆͗͂͒ḱ̶̰͇̙̣͉̗͈͙͕̳̍̎̉̓͆̆̊̓̃̄̿̽̈́̕͝͝͝n̷̡͉̩̭̗͚̱̜̻̮̞͈̫̬͔̹̼̯̒͌̏̈̿͜ͅǫ̶̤̮̣̣̦̂̌̍́̏̆̍̏̔̾̔̓͛̐͝w̶̡̢̡̡̬̜̯͉͔̭̲̹̫͕̜͙͖̾̎̾͋̐͐̈͆͒͌͂͑̐̂̆̽͗́̀͐̓̎̐̓̄̎͜͠ ̴̢̡̨̛̬̘̬̩̱̮̩̍̌̌̔̒̓̔͗͛̚̚̕̕͜͝h̵̡̡̠̖̦̱͈̩̳͈̭̦̦̬͇̬̹̯̱́̾͌̉̋̇̑͘o̵̡̡̻̬͙͇͉͕̟̥͋͐̚ͅẃ̴̡̨̦͔̯̗̭͇̰̞̦͖̻̱̲̞̜͖̣͊̀͘͠͠ ̵̧̭̻̠̱̱͚̱̰̤͚̥͙̻̄͋͆͌̚̚t̷̙̠̒͛̀̇̄͐̏͋̓̃͒̑͛̿̊̏̚o̷̠̞̝͉̩͍͕͔̠̊̇́̌̏̃̏̀́̀͜ͅ ̴̨̡̭͕͇͔̣̺̰͇͖̈́̀́̐̑ḧ̴̺͎̦͓̱͖̖̬̱͈̜͈̫̟́̊ͅḛ̸̡̨͈̲͔͈̙̺̦͍͈̜̟̻̪̅l̷̡̨͖̣͔͙̭̝̲̺̰̜̬̻̥̙̖͙̝͚͓̤͓̤͈̮̀̇͗͒́̇̃̂͐̕̕͝p̴̡̡̧̜̼̣̫͔̜̖̻̪͓͓͇͚̙̪͎̦̹̤̲̓̅̏͌́͑͊͛̽̈̕͘̕̚ ̵͔͇̖͙̘͎̝͕̳̇̓̾͌͗̽̈́̅̆̑̏̆̉́̆̄͠͝͝y̸͍̹̱̒̈͋̀̾̀͊̀̐̊̀͒̕͝͝ơ̴̹̜̗̘͉̬͈̦͇̩̟̹̠͉̪̻̱͖̇͋͑̈́͝ų̵̧̰̭̮̝̙̠̰̞͎͔͕͔͚͉͖̩̞̉͆͑͆̐̈̔̔͜͜͠r̴̨̨̡̢̛̩̩̤͔̰͚̻̬̺̰͈̅̀́́͗̌̇͌̿̀̾̀̉̑͊̚͝͝s̷͔̮̗̼̔̈́͑͂̽̌̏́̾̇̇̀̾͌̅͐͘̚̕͝͝e̴̛̛̻̳̰͇̠̬̦̩͑͑̏̆̌̍̇͋͒̀̿́̑̿̏̈́̉̉͌͜ļ̷̧̘͔̦̙͉̺̪͈̲̭̝̙͕͚̟́͌͗̍͒̑̉͐̌̿̿̽̕̚f̷̡̖̱̥̻̟͙͖͈͔͉̪̭̻̮̝̺̖̳̳͈̿̀̈́͘͘ͅ.̴̛̮̯͇̲͙̹̓̃͒͛̕͝




Things would then fade quickly as Bahamut slouched over against the building, covering his face with an upper wing. At the same time, Nero's eyes shot open.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." He blinked his eyes repeatedly.
 

Namohysip

Dragon Enthusiast
Staff
Partners
  1. flygon
  2. charizard
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. sceptile
  6. marowak
  7. jirachi
  8. meganium
Diyem hummed and pulled away, then looked at Eien, who nodded back.

"What was that?" Eien whispered.

"...Brisa, what did you see? You as well, Nero." Diyem had a more clinical approach, but then looked at Bahamut again. "You. Hold still. You're Shadowing... or something close to it." Perhaps he'd been Shadowing all this time. "I'm going to lessen it." His claws started to glow, and rather than take immediate draining into account, he did so slowly, reaching toward Bahamut. If Diyem did this, it would probably drain Bahamut of some of his energy, too, and leave him feeling slightly lethargic. But it would have to do.
 

Ambyssin

Gotta go back. Back to the past.
Location
Residency hell
Pronouns
he/him
Partners
  1. silvally-dragon
  2. necrozma-ultra
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. dreepy
  6. mewtwo-ambyssin
Bahamut slapped Diyem away. "You're the last person I want assistance from."

And Diyem would see a flash of what Nero and Brisa got. The same mask. Five eternatus heads grabbing Cibus and squeezing it like an orange.


Ì̶̢͖͎̟̺͙͈͌͋̊͆͑͛̀̈́̋̔̓̏̈́ͅţ̴͉̎̔̈̆͑̇̇̆͌̈̉̍̀̕̕͘͘'̸̛͎̘͍̪̻̳̖̜͔̦̗̤̗͗̏̃̾͆̈́̆̌͐͑̋͘ͅṣ̷̢̪͍̪̮̟̞͉̗̽̈́̈́̓̏̽͛͛͋̂̓̀̑͌̄̎͘͜͜͠ ̶̧̻̝̟̳̥͇̱̲͕̜̹̞̀̍̉́y̴̪̒͌̒̽̀̄̆̀̚͠o̷̞̦̞͗̊̅́̇̿̌̽̌́͗̄͝͝ų̶̢̞̙͙̝̖͓̤̜̗̫̗͓̔͋̎̽̉̌̔͌̐̚͝r̶̺͖̪͙̯̖͈̻̝̊͂́͌͆́̊͘͝ ̵̢͙̟̫̤̞͈̳̘͚͖̤̼̜̪̀͑͂̐̓̃͂̚͝ͅf̷̧̗͈̞̖̤̝͈̘̯̺̪̥̠͌͌̉͐͒͆̎̿̕̚͝a̷͕̣̙͈̝̖̞̭̤̙̦̻̳͈̙̅̕u̷̞͕̇̎͝l̴̪̖̼̹͕͚̜̙̒̂̒́͆̌̍̏̔̋͗̀̍t̵̢̛̺͔͔̺͓̼̥͉͈̃̑̄ ̷̛̦̲̱͍̯͔͇̰͆̌̇̓̀͑͒̂̕͝Î̶̡̡̦̜̲̺̥͍͍͖̭̹̳̜́̀̔̐͒̍'̵̨̛͛̐̂͒̈̚͜m̴̡̢̡̤̻̯̰̘̬͓͇͎̹̯̻͚̃̎̚ͅ ̷̗͎̥͉̈́͐́̂̽̿̈́͛̎̏͗̈͘͘͝͝͝l̶̰͚̻̅͆̓͒͜ī̶̡̛̹̺̼̱̹̗̰̺̯̋͑̎̌̆̍̐̄͜k̵̢̧̨͇̖̼͓̟̦͔̒̉̆̈̓͝e̸̡̟͍̞̺̤̙̾̔͜ ̸̡̫͉͈̯͔̓͒́̓͐̈́̄͒̆̓̕͠ͅt̴̡̢͈̪̤͕̖̖̮͙̹̪̜͙̩̪͒͋̈͒̊̈̋̏͝ͅh̸̲͂͗̋̔͐̑̇͐̾̓̔̈́į̴̡̙̬̠̯̣̘̭̜̳̗̻̤͉̈́̈̾̆̌͒̌̅̐̑̈́̓́͝s̶̡̧̼̼̙̳͈̩͛̽̅̆̃͐̃̇̍̕͝ͅ.̷̢̡̡̧̧̛͙̙̭̩̮̤̟̈́̓̈́͜ͅ ̴̢̙͕͈̹̹̗̦̼͎̤̻̒̈́͒̊̾̎̀͗̀̆̉̚͜͝͝Y̶̢̨̛̤͇̝̤̝̹͙͍̣̦̲̞͕̪̳̫̾͒̋̔͛̽͑͑o̵̧̮͍̮̠͕͓̖͔͛͜ͅǘ̴̱̭̘̻̯͚̳̟̹͈̖̫̗̐̉͐̑͒̈̒̓̃̾͂̐͗͘͝ͅr̸̲̖͓͉͇͔̻̳͎̥͇̈́́̀̃͂͂̃̕͝ ̴̢̱̫̘͈͖̺̯͈̯̄͋f̶͕͕͚̻̪͕̝̆̅͐̊̌̃̿͆̍̃̒̓̚͠a̵̛̭̘̻̝͔͕̰̙̎̅̐̈̄͛͛͝ų̴̡̨͉̖̳̦͖̟͚͎̺̱͈̞̲͌͛̎̄̅͆̓́̈́̕͠͝ļ̷̹͐̒́̐͗̈́̀̄́̓͆̍̈́̂͝͠͠t̷̩̰́̆̎̓̒̉̊͆̒̐̎̅̀̀̊̔͘͠ ̴͙̪̜͚̥̮̥̼͚͚̋͌̊̉̌̏̐̈́̒̊́̇̋͂̍͒͜͝ý̵̛̠̞̙̞̺̘̯̲̻̞̉͌̄͗̐̇̀̽̈́̏́̅́́͒͝o̵̡̥̯̼̠̞̩̰̩̦̹͛̈̂̐́͒͜͠ū̸̡̱͎͖̗̳̮͔̼̣͔̗̅̑̐̕r̴̰̅̄̚͜͜ͅ ̷̛̳̳͚̞͉̹̜̥̝̤͓̠̬̼̗͑́͑̆͋͋͋̐̌͝͝f̶̛͚͕̠̝͕̼̩͉̞͚͍̪̤̲͔͕̔̾̿̈̈́̾͌̀̈̀̑̚̕͜͝a̷̜̎͑̀ư̶͚̮̭̆͊͒̑̀̌́͌̅̋͂̏͐̀̅̓͘l̵̨͉̖͎̟̫͔̭̙̈́͒͐̋͌͗̓͛̓̿͘̕͝͝ͅt̴̡̡̢̩̩̙̦̤͓̟̬͇̥̬͈̮̒́͊̈́͆͛̍̓̓̿́̀͆̈ ̷̨͇̹͚͂̓̈́͐̓͒́̓̚͜y̸̡̛͔̫̽̈͆͗͐̎͌̾o̷̡̫͈̻̠̼͉̬̺͎͔͈̖̾ų̴̢̢͉̞̲̭̆̇̊͆̎̈͜r̷̩͑̃̔͋̈́̽́͛͋̌̊̕͝ ̷̻̝͖̩͓̯̻̰̲̺̔͜͝f̵͍͉͓̤̻̟̟̹̿ͅå̶̡͓͎̤̩̲̐̇͑̀͗̇̕͠ų̵̢̦̠̼̭̘̘̪̇̆̈͂́̐̈́͆̉̄̊͛̎̽͑͛͝l̴̡̢̛̙̩̪̦͍͍͚̤̭̥̩̹̫̹̙̀̀̀͒̓́̕͜t̶̡̨͔̖̘̗̻̱͙͈̹̙̱̻̠̘͍̂͒̆̊͒̑̆͂̈́̈́̾̈́̇͒̄͛̚͘ͅ ̷̨̪̲͙͆̋̐̄́͌͆̕ͅy̵̘̥͍̺̗̖̦̝̣͙̥̜͐́͒͗̾̆̂̂͒́̎̾͂͐͂ŏ̵̮̰̲̞̟̦̹̟͕͔͚̣̜̹̹̤̉͗̌̓͝u̸̢̧̡͔̮̤̣͙͖̖͕̹̖̱̺̎̇̍̄͋̈́͌̃̐̈́̊̀́̒͐̚͜͠͝r̵̢̫̟̟͉͉̀͛͐̔͠͠ͅ ̸̛͓̤͆̔͗̈́̆̀͝f̴̨̨̧̡̱͉̖̦̺̰̪̪̘̯̆͊̅͗a̴̛̗̲̒̋̾̀̒͗u̸̖̻̮̲̜̱̱̟͑̇́̀͛̌̀̉̉̈́͌ḷ̶̡̡̗͈͉͓̼̖̝̺̏̈́͑͆̑̄̄͋̓̀͌͊́̆ť̴̙̺̝̏̈́̎̆̿̽ ̷͇͖̯̬̫͆̇̿͠y̶͍̝͕̥͉͙̱͎̰̳̟̤̘̏͜ó̷̤͇̖̊̈́̐́̉̉̋̆̈̒̄͛̚u̸̧̢̠̪̝̲̯̘̪̜̬̘͉̻̩̘̘̅̎̄́̀̀̀̂̽̈́̏̅̈́̔̅͘͝r̸̛̛͙̼͈͙̳̆̅͘͠ ̶̛̲̼̣̗̹̘̞̤͚́͆̈́̊̂̾̑̕͝f̷̼̺̮̚a̷̢̡͇̬̲̜̫̻͔̰̻͈̖̠̬̤͗̃̍̄͑̀͛͆̌̈̏̅̉̕͝͠͠ù̴̝̺̯̲́̎͆́̕͝͝l̸̛̮̥̠͖͚̩͊̔̏͛͝͝ͅͅͅţ̴̨̮͙͍̼̠̪͖̹̘̬̗͈̱͇̭̇͊͊̒͒̈́̉̔̀̔̚͘͘͜͠ ̸̡̛͚̹͔̺̻͚͎̭͍̼̀̂́̉̃̄͛͂̾̔͝ÿ̵̨̢͈̟͉͉̞͈̝͕͈́̌̏̇̆͐̓͊̈́̆̄̑̅̚͝͝͠o̷͚̻̙̗̪̖͈̬̥̲̰̙͗͂̒̇͋̿̅͜ù̸̧͚̦͈̌̀́̎̿͗̃r̸̡̩̝̹̪͉͉̯̯̬̤̒͛͒̓͌̈́͛̀͂̊ ̵͓̘̪̯̳̳̖̬͂͒͛̒̋̚̚f̵̡̢̨̧̛̳̙̮͔̝̙̝̟̭̳̬̙̏̑̎̍̊̋̆̉̓̈́̇͗̏̅̓ą̵̛̖̮͉̰͙͖̙̜͒͌͒͑̀̈́͌͂͑̏̋̀̾͝͠ů̵̧̳̬̠̹̹̝̖͔̝̪̓l̵̰͍͈͉͔̜̬̤̖̝̥̗͇̦̀̆̋̅͂͒̿̿̀̊̀̕̕̚͜ẗ̸̢̨̨̡̛͔͍̼̺̤̹̫̱͉͙͕̱̻́̈́̂͆͌̏̄̎͐͑̚͝͝ ̴̢̤͙͇̳̬̅̒y̶̖͒͗̀͘ô̷̢͈̝͎̦̗̥̗̠̟͎͖̥̞͂̀͜͜͝ų̵̡̖̰͍͇̤͚̯̙̱͓̀̇͒͂̈́͐̆͋̊͂̅͂̕̕͜͝͝͝ŗ̸̧̨͙͚͚͕̮͉͎̪͕̙̺̖̱͕̽̑́͊̏̋́̀̐̄̂̌͜ ̵̡̰̤͚͐͛̔̀̕͝͠f̶̡̧̬̪̟̭̖͇͕͖̰̱̬̞̒́̓̿̍̀̋̒̏͑̚͠



Nero stumbled to his feet, shaking himself out. "I think... it's malice," Nero mumbled. "That's what his shadow is. And he pushed his psyche past its breaking point trying to keep it suppressed the entire time."
 

unrepentantAuthor

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Brisa grimaced. "Prophecy, memory, or both. And Eternatus of Etherium's intent, fixed on this world."

She swallowed, conscious of every sensation, every thought. Did Bahamut know what was happening to him? If her gut was right, the necrozma had thought of a way to save his world and take out his bitterness on Cibus at the same time. It . . . tracked. For him, it tracked.

"I wouldn't blame you for thinkin' of it, y'know," she told Bahamut, steadying her voice as best she could. "Anyone in yer position would be lookin' fer any solution. Any solution."

If he shadows, then he shadows, Chief, she sent to Diyem. It's gotta come out eventually, right? The four of us aren't a bad posse to handle it if so.
 

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"Malice..." Diyem furrowed his brow, shaking off that psychic wave. That term. That was a familiar term, and he knew it was related to Bahamut in some way.

"May I?" Eien asked next, drifting toward Bahamut. She was careful, but out of everyone on the team, she felt she knew Bahamut the most; he had been the one to reach out to her, who contributed most to shaking her out of it all. It was only fair she'd return the favor.

Diyem, meanwhile, checked on Brisa one last time to make sure she was okay.

Something wasn't right. Bahamut wasn't reacting in the same way others would. Was there more to this...?
 

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Brisa gave Diyem a curt nod. I'm fine, Chief. You can depend on me.

Bahamut was a strange creature to begin with, with a strange psychology. Not only that, he'd been restored to life with Maple's Radiance many months ago, and further restored by Joule's light, had he not? Perhaps Shadows could affect him more similarly to Cibus' folks and the God Squad than to other Spectrum warriors. Perhaps.
 

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"Stop staring at me," Bahamut growled.

Nero's eyes flickered blue, then pink, then black. "Hmm." His cheek bolts rotated. "Hey, uh, quick hypothetical here, Diyem. What would happen if you brought a soulless husk to Cibus?"
 

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Nero cheek bolts rotated again. "It's not something I've seen, but something Ho-Oh taught me about. The idea of a soul separated from its body." He glanced at Bahamut. "The soul retains the key personality aspects. The way the person thinks and acts, their core beliefs, and hopefully memories. But not always. Sometimes memories end up with the husk. But it lacks the values and beliefs the soul has, which tends to make a husk very single-minded in its words and actions."

His eyes turned yellow as he realized a better analogy. "Oh, it's like Reshiram, Zekrom, and Kyurem. I learned about this from talking with some Spectrum people. In some worlds, Reshiram and Zekrom are two halves of a soul that inhabited Kyurem."

He glanced at Diyem and Brisa. "Tell me, what exactly was Bahamut like when he first got to Cibus?"

"I'm right here. You could at least say that to my face," Bahamut hissed.
 

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"What're y'gettin' at, exactly?" asked Brisa, tail swishing. "I mean, in terms of demeanour...? Bahamut, I'd say y'were utterly despondent back then. ...Nah, more intense even than that, to tell the truth."

"A worthless failure like me doesn't deserve a name."

Brisa curled a lip with the memory of admixed disgust and pity.

"Wretchedly self-loathing," she corrected. "And fixated on self-annihilation."

She'd thought it to have been a matter of pain. He'd been in pain without light, and recovered when given enough to suffice. Was there more to it than that?
 

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"In worlds where I am from, something without a soul ceases function entirely, or it generates a new soul from the husk instantly," Diyem explained. "A consciousness cannot exist in any way without one. If Bahamut is from a world that operates differently, then I am unfamiliar." He narrowed his eyes. "What are you implying? How can I pull from something that does not exist? Bahamut is here. He has spirit. I clearly got him."
 

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"And I have to respectfully disagree," Nero said, shaking his head. "Brisa's response makes me even more certain, actually. You didn't summon Bahamut... you summoned his empty husk. He has some of the memories, clearly, but there's no telling how accurate they are. It's entirely possible they've become warped by the husk's single-minded perception.

"Consider this, too: Bahamut's actions in battle, healing and casting shields, are at complete odds with the beliefs he's boxed away in his psyche." Nero crossed both sets of talons over one another. "I'm an outsider in this, but to me it sounds like someone else tuned his aura to the needs of the team. Because if he really had a spirit, don't you think he would've tuned his aura to line up with his more aggressive way of thinking?"

He gazed at Bahamut with a sympathetic expression. "I doubt Bahamut even realized it, either, but it's the only thing that makes sense to me. He started as a husk. And then you, Diyem, filled that husk with shadows that were not originally there... hence the acrid behavior he displayed early on." Nero turned and looked skyward. "Then he got introduced to radiance and seemed to behave a bit better. But if what I saw in the Colosseum is any indication, Team Spectrum has been far more reliant on Bahamut's shadow powers than his radiance, while the rest of the team seems to synergize both halves of their Blacklight pretty well."

Nero lowered his head. "Even if he hasn't properly shadowed, the balance has been skewed too far in one direction for too long. So he's just been stuffing it deeper and deeper into a seemingly-empty psyche."
 

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Bahamut's focus on protective measures had always made enough sense to Brisa. Regret, however sincere and conscious, for past horrors and lost loved ones, could motivate a destroyer to shield their allies, could it not...? Was being soulless really a better explanation than that?

Brisa's brow furrowed. "That's . . . quite an explanation to concoct. Is it disprovable, an' therefore testable?"
 

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"It's perfectly disprovable," Diyem snarled. "As a Voice of Darkness I am perfectly in-tune with spirits, let alone ones filled with regrets. Bahamut is a spirit filled with regret, yes, we all know this, there are no surprises. He has a spirit."

"Diyem," Eien said, placing a skeletal claw against his shoulder. "Consider Nero's point from another angle. I believe you that the Bahamut we see is the Bahamut we know. He cannot harbor Radiance let alone Shadow without a spirit. But... consider what you see instead? Look closer, and we can see."

"Hmph, look closer..." Diyem grumbled, then eyed Bahamut. "If he'd so much as allow it."
 

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Brisa frowned, tail lashing unhappily. This was a disturbing concept, but she knew better than to dismiss it as pure fantasy. Even so, could the fella be made to cooperate?

And... Something about the language unnerved her. Bahamut's strength of feeling and distinctness of character was, presumably, that of his original self. Even if a new soul inhabited the vessel created by Diyem, that soul was still Spectrum's Bahamut.

"Bahamut, I don't much credit this theory, but would you deign to let these fellas find evidence to corroborate or contradict it? Would you have . . . conditions?"
 
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Bahamut gnashed his crystalline beak. "... fine. But it's not my fault if he explodes or something."

Nero simply stepped back and pretended like he was giving them some privacy.
 

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Though Bahamut remained still, the instant Diyem began concentrated he was assaulted with another flood of images. Of multiple Cibuses — or, at least, planets that seemed like Cibus — blowing apart before their shards were sucked into one another leaving a single, miniscule bright spot. A singularity.

Then a familiar sigil slowly spread: a circle with five diamonds along its outline. All around the singularity.

It would fade just as quickly, giving Diyem access, but it would be like wading through crashing waves...
 

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Yes, all of this was unsurprising to him. Apocalypses of another Eternatus somehow and some way, he'd heard of it all before, but then it had been sealed. And soon he would find the typical traces of a foreign spirit that he'd brought out of its home world. It was as Diyem expected. Any time now. It would be right... there! No, that was another apocalypse. There! ...

Diyem's expression shifted suddenly. He spotted something, of course. But then he pulled back and, perhaps for the first time, Brisa would see a hint of panic in his eyes. His gaze snapped to the Luzray. "Give me your soul. I need to inspect it. Close your eyes."
 
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