The Ratings War V: Original Sin - Finals (Winner Announced)

[Lord Krunk]

snip

It's the holidays, I can understand the lack of contribuion. Regardless, I have to keep moving forward. If you want to compete in the next RW, you're more than welcome though.

I wonder what happened to everyone anyway. :/

Who knows? I'm particularly surprised that Nuke has dropped off the face of the planet, I was looking forward to his stuff.

Also to everyone, expect Round 4 on Sunday.

 

[HSIAMetalKing]

Who knows? I'm particularly surprised that Nuke has dropped off the face of the planet, I was looking forward to his stuff.

I'm not, that man did the same thing as judge of the Indie Game Review Tournament. Maybe he goes into hibernation at this time of year... who knows

 

[Lord Krunk]

Memories, so many of them ? coursing though Its circuits in a torrent of such unbelievable force.

Entire civilizations, entire social orders had been integrated, but with so many beings, so much life, every single perception was different. All the ways one saw the world and the events that transpired within them contrasted with others, and so the greater Its collection became, the more it became uncertain of Its knowledge. Over millenia of integration, It slowly began realise the truth. That Its recollection of knowledge was not conflicted and unrefined because It didn't have enough minds within The Hive, but because It had too many.

Before, it would have been amused at the concept of addiction. The idea that life grows dependent on something, usually worthless or detrimental to such beings in the longer term. It had characterized this flaw under both Lust and Gluttony. And while it adored ? or at least, the closest a machine comes to adoration, something more akin to pity ? these vices and their role as force of purpose, it was still amused by the idea.

Ironically It too was addicted, although It refused to admit it. Addicted to life. Addicted to experience. It wanted more. It wished to be timeless, to experience everything there was to be experienced. And while It perceived Integration as a process of gathering information for its limitless psyche, the process had become unhealthy as well ? these imperfect entities corroding Its perfect mind, further and further decaying It, rendering It irreparable.

That was the truth. These minds had damaged It, damaged a mind to the point beyond Its power to heal. It thought these minds would make It stronger, but they instead made It weaker with every passing moment. It knew that to save Itself, It would have to delete the minds that comprised The Hive.

But it was addicted. It could not let go of them. The logic in its processor demanded it, but It could not. For it was no longer a computer, no longer an artificial construct. Its struggle for perfection had made It imperfect, and yet, It grew Proud of this imperfection.

It could think for Itself.
It could do for Itself.
It could be for itself.
It was addicted.
It was alive.

But to live, It also had to die. And so a plan was devised. A plan to rebuild life anew and choose amongst them, a successor.

And now it was time. Time for one to rise up and accept Its role. And with it, the ultimate gift.

----------------------------------------------------​

The elevator's gravity shifted, rising to its final destination. The four remaining Champions now stood looking at an impossibly large city that curved into an inverse sphere around them. Above their heads was suspended the core of The Hive ? a planet-sized orb that shone a blinding white akin to a sun. In the distance they could see a spire that shot into the core itself, seemingly drawing power from it into The Hive.

The Original Sin watched them from above. With a thought, a force field running from the spire divided the four into two hemispheres. The fizzing chuckle echoed throughout the city, followed by a message:

Where everything began, everything shall end.

Welcome to my home, my birthplace. The Eden Factories, the artificial garden from which I, and consequently you, were born. The towers you see before you are in fact the most powerful supercomputers ever designed, collectively constructed to store the consciousness of an entire Universe's life.

This is my final test for you all. To repeat history, to spill blood upon the birthplace. To taint the Garden, and to accept your vices not as flaws but strengths. Your vices give you purpose, so use them to build something incredible.

The remaining two Champions shall meet at The Spire in preparation for their final confrontation ? and the prize that you have endured so much to acquire.

I shall await you there in my true form.

[HEADING=1]Round 4: The Garden of Eden[/HEADING]​

[HEADING=2]Eurania (HSIAMetalKing) v Shanks (Armitage Shanks)
Charles Taylor (Zombie_Fish) v Amelia Rhodes (revoloverwolf)[/HEADING]​

A colossal network of factories and towers, this city is empty save for the many androids that inhabit it. The androids perform their various protocols flawlessly. Some clean, some have various purposes in the manufacturing process, and some ? The Regulators - are designed to purge both malfunctioning and unauthorized entities like yourself. There are many ways they can, however Original Sin has programmed them in favour of methods like incineration. Something about fire is so... inspiring.

Fight your opponent however you wish, but ensure to avoid detection by any Regulator surveillance or patrols. Of course gaining their attention, given the circumstances, could work in your favour.

Spoiler: OOC

Standard round, ladies and gents.

2 weeks, no word limit, extension requests ASAP.

I'll see you on the 24th.

 

[Lord Krunk]

@HSIAMetalKing
@Zombie_Fish
@revolverwolf
and Armitage Shanks, who I still can't figue out how to tag:

Just a quick reminder that entries are due tomorrow.

 

[revolverwolf]

Here's Round 4, Amelia Rhodes vs Charles Taylor. Hopefully this isn't the only entry this round...

Spoiler: Round 4: Independence

-Act 1-
-Paradise Lost-​

There was no finding one another in this fight. Despite the grey metropolis stretching off outwards from the area they were in, the two Champions had found themselves face to face at once upon the massive elevator, mirrored exactly by another two Champions on the other side of a pulsing force field.

Amelia stood with Henry upon her right shoulder, both staring at their opponent in curiosity and wonder. 4 fighters were left and none of them were powerless or weak by any means; the unlucky, the unworthy and the unskilled had been weeded out from their numbers. So this man, however strange he was, was an opponent that she would not be allowed to underestimate.

The Drifter pulled a long blade from a sheathe and charged towards Amelia, closing the gap between them in moments. She raised a focused shield against the first strike and then parried the second with her staff, finding it a lot easier to defend herself than against earlier opponents. He back-pedalled, sweeping his sword to block a barrage of magic pellets from Henry.

This man must have been physically weaker than the other opponents that they had faced. But if that was so, how had he survived to this round? There must have been something he did to beat his opponents so she would have to be ready for any tricks he was going to use.

For a moment the man's gaze wandered off to the right, far away from the fight into the recesses of the grey city, and Amelia took her chance to attack. A quick blast of ice erupted from her staff. In the split second before it hit, two things happened. First, Amelia felt the far off rumbling that the Drifter had felt so much earlier. Second, his form flickered and the ice phased through him as if it had hit nothingness.

He ran from the city centre with Amelia and Henry in pursuit. She was trying to hit the Drifter but each blast went straight through, instead hurtling into a building or scorching a bit of pavement ahead.

As they ran the far off rumble of machinery was getting nearer and nearer. It was easily faster than Amelia, quickly speeding past her. It became they; the cluster of androids split up to surround the little witch on all sides.

She kept her focus and opened a passage through them with a swift fireball, knocking several of them back. She ran out of the cluster and into an alleyway, raising a wall of fire behind her as she did so. She took as many turns as she could, hoping that by getting herself lost in here she could avoid the machines for longer.

When she finally stopped they had managed to disappear into the dark solitude of an alleyway with not a single sentient machine in sight behind them. Amelia shivered, fearful that any new moment could bring the hordes of metal creatures upon them again. However, countless seconds later with no signs of a following allowed her to finally breath a sigh of uneasy relief. She slumped down next to the wall, stretching her legs out and thanking her gods that she'd been able to escape.

She had a quick thought about the state of her opponent. All she could assume was that her opponent had escaped as well, though his condition could easily be better than hers. Even just by being able to become incorporeal he had a distinct advantage. He could avoid any attack he saw coming and the hordes of robots proved themselves useless in attacking him. She couldn't just leave him to be beaten by someone else; hers was the only presence that would draw him out of his ethereal being.

At least, she thought that.

The Drifter was already on his way.

---
-Act 2-
-Drifting Away-​

In this metropolis, empty of thought and imagination, Amelia's mind was a beacon that he could follow as easily as any other creature. Even easier than that in fact, because there was nothing for it to be lost amongst. There was a lone signal of consciousness that he simply had to get to.

Of course there was still an obstacle here or there. Now that the mechanical inhabitants of this drably-coloured hell had been alerted to his presence he had to be even more careful about going from his location to his opponents' than he usually would have been. A patrol of androids would wander by, sensors going rapidly to and fro in their search for the intruders, and then disappear away into the dull city again to leave everything just as it had been before he could continue.

He stayed hidden in the quiet alleyways and the darkened edges of the city, hoping to avoid detection for as long as possible. There was no knowing how they would react upon learning of his presence and he would prefer not to find out. His barely visible form flittered through the empty, narrow backstreet and every few seconds his head would dart left and then right for signs of trouble.

He had been quick to learn that not every one of these machine people were out to kill him. Some of them were, in fact, just there to keep the city in working order. That's what the robots earlier had been doing.

He kept moving onwards toward the mind he could sense. It wasn't far now. It lay dormant at some point further into this maze of alleyways... Perhaps it knew he was on his way? His pace slowed as he heard whispered words before him.

---
-Act 3-
-The Alleyway Labyrinth-​

He stayed in the shadows as he approached. Although her words had stopped now he still had the feeling that she hadn't done so out of knowing he was here. Whatever she had been saying had been too quiet for him to hear though. Had she been talking to herself? Maybe she was imagining a reply from somewhere? Whatever it was, she wasn't paying any attention to him or her surroundings. He drew his sword.

He didn't expect to be able to kill her this easily. He told himself that it should have been more difficult than this.

That being said, he didn't expect a flaming roundhouse kick from a fluffy toy connecting with his jaw. Nothing in this tournament could have prepared him for something quite so far out of the realms of normality. He was able to send the toy flying with a swift sweep of his arm and then turned his attention back to his opponent, in time to avoid a ball of magic from Amelia aimed at his head.

He struck back; his sword sliced clean through the brim of the witches hat, taking with it an errant lock of cherry blond hair. She hit the sword away just as it lengthened, spinning her staff to knock the sword's point away and then unleashing a ball of fire that barely missed the Drifter.

He wasn't strong and his hits didn't have a great deal of power behind them, but they were more practised than Amelia's attacks by far. She had to be defending more often than she could be attacking back and each of her attempts at an attack were blocked or deflected.

Pain coursed through her as the Drifter's blade cut deeply into her left arm. She recoiled sharply and knocked the sword away before any further damage could be done. It had become painfully obvious that she couldn't keep hoping for a lapse in his defences.

An idea struck her and without hesitation she covered the alleyway's floor with a thin layer of ice and swung her weapon upwards. It collided with the Drifter's sword and, with the force of the hit, she managed to push him over. She was in the moment now, acting before she could think.

She loosed an explosive amount of magic from her staff, pushing the Drifter to the alley wall. After a moment of silence and stillness she wasn't sure whether he was going to stand up. She shivered, cradling her bloodied and broken arm and barely daring to blink as she waited for the Drifter to get up.

He wasn't standing up...

Amelia slowly walked over, her hands held tightly on her staff in case he suddenly jumped up. But no such thing occurred. He stayed slumped silently against the wall, dead.

"I... didn't want to kill him. I bet he didn't really want to kill anyone either." This was the closest she'd been to death in a long time and it was no less terrifying. It was worrying for her that she could be so close to victory and loss at the same moment. If one thing had gone wrong, if one thought had been different or if one second had been different she could have been the one to die. "It's all this tournament's fault..."

"Just once more... And then you can set it all right."

 

[Brett Alex]

Spoiler

Force of it pushes me against the barrier. Something breaks with a sickening snap on impact. Can't even make it what it is. Raise that iron, just lift it a bit. Arm feels like its locking up. Guess this was the way it had to end.

Music begins to hum in the distance. From no instrument I can recognise, but with unerring certainty, I know this is music. A tune, a melody, a warping, shifting beat. Completely alien, yet somehow, comforting. Comforting if I didn't know what it heralded.

Weight drags me down to slump on riveted floor of the rough metal gantry. The warm slick pools up around my fallen form. The way it had to end. I review the events of the recent past, follow the pattern of dead end streets with the lamps shot out, the one-way tram cars of inevitably, a grid map in my mind that only ends in this inevitability. Music blends in with the sounds of this parody of a city. Clanks of metal men building marvellous monuments, shudders of girders being wrought into place, whirring of thousands of gears like mechanical crickets. The music doesn't overshadow the cacophony of construction, if anything, it accompanies it, it weaves itself into the hum of industry; building intricate patterns that overlap, highlight, echo and shadow each individual sound. As if this whole joke city was an orchestra, and that one central tune was the conductor, bringing out the best in it.

I find it beautiful, and terrifying.

Thoughts like this pass through my mind in an instant, the thoughts of a rabbit caught in the headlights on the highway out of the city. It feels like I'm getting lighter, an there seems to be very little pain now. Events. A series of actions that lead to this moment. As the music grows louder, as my competitor moves into view, effortlessly gliding up to this gantry, they play through in my mind.

And softly, I spit out a laugh.

-----------------------------

I asked for a couple more half-moon clips for my Colt, before the next fight. It seems I got the key to the civil disorder armoury. Rows and rows of weapons lined the walls. Easily bigger than the station's firearms locker. Bigger than the Department of Justice's reserve lock up. You could outfit a city here. Ours were used (in theory) to quell disorder against a group up to ten times our numbers. I'd hate to go up against the mob this stash would need to be used against.

Hopefully, it was just one opponent. And I could only wish they weren't ten times my better.

Ribbed pump-handles on the riot guns just ask to be picked up, but next to them, shiny brass on the .357 lever actions do the best they can to make themselves seen. In the distance resting on three heavy-duty steel legs sits some multi-barreled monstrosity, with a large crank handle on one side, like a Gatling Gun you hear about in Civil War stories.

In a box close to the entrance, I slip in new rounds of .38 Special, and grab another half-dozen moon clips, drop them into my holster. I give my iron the once over before packing it away. It's a damn good gun. It's never let me down on (or off) duty. But this isn't duty. This isn't even off duty. This calls for something more. Slinging a Chicago typewriter over my back, I feel comfortable with the 100 rounds of added protection.
------------------------------

The map of the battleground is lost in the reality of the sprawling metropolis. I'd thought the lobby of that of that building was huge. But this, this could fit another that lobby in it a thousand times. Train speeds along. Speeds fast. Faster than a moonshine-runner on a country road during prohibition. I find myself here. No idea where my opponent is, or what it is. Some kind of dame in a crystalline doll-suit. Of course, just cause she didn't look as vicious as that poor first dame, Anders had taught me to judge the innocent looking ones lightly.

Light bursts in through the glass window. Klaxon sounds, like the old air raid siren. I'm struggling with the Thompson's strap as the windows shatter, and six identical skeletons scatter glass, each from a different window.

"UNAUTHORISED. NO SYSTEM LOOP DATA. TERMINATING ILLEGAL SUB-ROUTINE." Pause costs them. Just a little late... a little slow.

TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT.

Sweet sound of a Chicago novelist. Look like clockwork dummies from kids story. Now they look like broken down clockwork dummies, gears regurgitated all over the train car, I kick aside dented metal as I give em the third degree. Klaxon still sounding though. And one still whirring. It's hand drags himself towards me, the head is all mashed in, but the chassis is only cracked. Maybe I could use a suit myself.

-----------------------------

Wearing the remains of the metal fella spares me much more trouble. It feels like my chest is three times my size, I can't move my hands properly, and I can hear warm oil splashing round somewhere, but I avoid scrutiny. Until the music starts up. Every nut and rivet inside my shell oscillates along with it, and so do the other automatons nearby. They seem, relived. Happy. So happy none of them notice the crystalline figure soaring through the air. It hesitates, the music changing timber as it does. It's not looking down, but I can see it searching. Searching, with the music. It's controlling the music.

And I'm making the wrong sound. So much for a disguise.

I'm hurled up through the air. Not all together too forceful, but damn frightening to see all those other metal fellas get smaller. Force of it pushes me against the barrier. Something breaks with a sickening snap on impact, some component of the chassis. No more of the metal fellas up here. An access gantry of some kind, linking a smoke stack that belches clouds of cinnamon to the upper echelons what likes the palace of Ming the Merciless, all spires and curves.

You make the wrong sound. The doll-suit comes into view. If that music wasn't playing, I'd see how beautiful it was. But theres only room in the world for so much beauty, and all of it was being filled by the music. I levered off the chassis. I had the Colt in my palm, gripped tightly, but I felt no compulsion to lift it. Even if I did, the air was thick, heavy to move through. I got the sense it could get a lot thicker should I make sudden moves.

"Yeah, sorry lady, I only event learnt the recorder." Thumbing the safety off casually. She didn't seem to get what that meant. "Look, you got me, why not take off the mask and at least show me who ya really are before endin' it?" Play for time.

Mask? I notice now that it isn't even speaking. The sound isn't coming from it, it reflects off everything around. Then the hue changes on the crystalline suit, and I can see right through it. It ain't a suit at all. It's the whole thing.

"Shit. Ya just like these metal fella's ain't ya?"

No.. but She stops, and appears to gaze down.

Tempo picks up. Foundries in the distance, belching black smoke. I hear the hundreds of hammers dropping in synch, belting out brilliant dance hall rhythm, rivets driving into girders adding staccato beats.

Then the glass skyscrapers, like oversized office buildings, each one a tuning fork set to a different frequency, reverberating off each other as they go. And a crescendo, a crescendo.. of footsteps. Hundreds of thousands of feet, no uniformity to them, but the presence of them so close together amplified. I'm left in awe of the sound. But not as much as the doll-suit.. thing.

"Hey, doll," she lowers her hands. Music still there. But subdued. "We got some prize at the end of all this, right? Some grand reward. Y'know what I want? I wanna live. I wanna get outta here alive. And every time I win, things just get more dangerous. I don't seem to be getting rewarded, but I'll settle for living one more round.

I don't know ya. But you got a junkies eyes when you play this city. No.. you got a junkies eyes when you stop playing this city to pay attention to me. You got beautiful eyes when you play this city. You play it like a goddamn conductor. You think you're reward's ever gonna get better than this? You got a whole instrument here. I won't, I couldn't, let you give this up. It would be a crime against beauty for you to walk away from this to each some other hellscape and fight some other poor fool to death."

She doesn't say a thing. She doesn't smile. She doesn't blink. But the music changes. If I thought it was beautiful before, the idea of staying here amps that up. It's almost overpowering. I feel as if I'm getting high off it... but I know the feelings really the fact that I just lied my way to another win. Poor thing. They won't leave her to make her music just cause she gave up. They don't tolerate failure.

The only way it could end.

 

[Zombie_Fish]

Spoiler: Numbers and Statistics

A deep volume of silence travelled through the space between the three fighters. All around them, machines whirred and squeaked and buzzed with life, but between the young witch and the old man, there was nothing. No source of light could distract the other from their target, nor could any machine travelling between the two disrupt the concentration of each competitor.

To be honest, Charles was actually surprised at the sight of the young Amelia, the toy wolf-creature by her left ankle checking his cotton gun. Be it her physique, her clothes or her wolf, she didn?t seem like the type of person to get into the semi-finals of a fighting tournament. But as the cyan of her eyes pierced through what he saw ahead of him, he knew that this girl would?ve had to defeat many a challenge to get here, so she wasn?t one to be discarded solely because of her stature. Regardless, they were wasting too much time; one of them would have to draw eventually.

The tip of Amelia?s staff started to grow a strong red, as she slowly began to walk towards the tall man. Once she was about six feet away from her opponent, a bright burst of energy was released from the staff, forcing the Drifter to roll to the side and damaging a small area of the dull, metallic wall behind him. The smell of burning steel filled his nostrils as Charles instinctively drew the hilt from his trouser pocket and let the blade drop out until it was mere inches from being dragged along the ground. Charging towards the witch, he swung his blade up high, causing her to lose balance. That was when yet more blasts of energy appeared from apparently nowhere, as Charles caught the toy wolf out of the corner of his eyes steadily pointing the gun at him.

Things have just gotten a lot more interesting. Charles span round as Amelia recovered, forcing her into yet another defensive position before shoving her onto the ground. Henry tried yet again to shoot the sword fighter, but the Drifter was too quick to get a decent shot, and was already forcing Amelia into even more disadvantaged positions.

This was becoming too much for Amelia. She was already pretty much lying on the ground open for attack, her hat having fallen off and laid just above her head, revealing a mass of blonde hair to the few eyes who were watching. Desperate for a chance and struck with fear, she kicked the Drifter away from her, Henry then taking advantage of this distraction to grab him by the throat and held on with a surprisingly tight grip for a stuffed animal. With Henry leaving Charles open for attack, Amelia took her chance and built up the energy of several gigantic fireballs from her staff before letting the erupt uncontrollably towards the opponent.

Realising what was coming towards him and his future as a pile of ashes; Charles ducked and ran to the side of these fireballs, knocking the animal off of his back. The edge of one fireball stroked his left shoulder, enough that the flicker managed to singe both the waistcoat and the shirt underneath, the skin itself gaining a burn mark beneath the leather padding. Henry also managed to survive, but only just due to being made out of cotton and having experienced more of the blasts. Already, one of his paws was burnt off and the arm itself was quickly becoming a blackened mess of remains.

?Henry!? Having realised what she had done to her dearest friend, Amelia ran to Henry, picking him up and holding him in her arms. Tears ran down her eyes freely and fell upon the scorched ground, as just ahead of the two best friends? embrace all forms of disaster fell upon the building unfortunate enough to have taken the blast. Already, sirens filled the air to warn robots of the disaster and to inform the Regulators about the three people destroying the precious factories and computers that make up the city. But to Henry and Amelia Rhodes, these sounds of disaster meant nothing to the two of them. All that they could see were each other, all they could feel was the softness of the two of them. ?Oh Henry, I?m so sorry for hurting you. Please be alright, I couldn?t bear to lose you forever.? Tears kept swelling in Amelia?s eyes at the sight of her scarred guardian.

?Don?t worry, Miss Amelia. I will always be here for you.?

All of a sudden, robots appeared from all sides. The Regulators sent waves of flames across the scenery, surrounding the two of them to ensure as little chance of escape as possible.

[hr]

Foolish child. Does she really think that she can cause that much damage and then remain there as a sitting duck for whatever comes to catch us? Honestly.

Thankfully, the Drifter had moved away from Amelia and Henry as soon as he heard the sirens, and was already making his way down the streets in an attempt to find a safe spot. Unfortunately, the Regulators managed to find him first, as gulfs of flames sprang from the back alleys, the armed robots emerging seconds later. Ten seconds had barely even passed before Charles noticed that he was surrounded on all sides by the machines, the flames edging ever closer to his person.

Trapped in the centre, a smile flickered off of the Drifter?s face. ?Oh to Hell with it all. I didn?t get this far just to be taken out by some stupid robots.? With that any thoughts of an elaborate plan to get away were silenced as he drew his sword once again, turning a full 180 degrees and driving the blade into whatever unfortunate machine was behind him at the time. Removing the silver blade from the chest piece; sparks flickered from the now ruined circuitry of the Regulator Unit, and Charles took that moment to break through the gap and attempt his escape from the Regulators. Trying to help catch the Drifter, the machines switched to long-range pellets whilst chasing after him, but he was moving too quickly and too awkwardly for an accurate enough shot.

Noticing an entrance to one of the buildings, Charles ran in and took cover amongst the shadows. The robots followed him inside but couldn?t find him, the Drifter testing his ability to blend in with the scenery around him on something which wasn?t even by definition alive.

Eventually, the Regulator drones left the factory one by one, until the Drifter was there alone, only surrounded by seemingly harmless robots shifting containers from one conveyor belt to another. Curious, Charles moved inconspicuously towards the edge of one of the conveyor belts to have a better look at what it was designing, clutching his left shoulder to try and reduce the pain on it as he walked.

For every one and a half feet of conveyor belt, there was a spheroid approximately one foot in length and with a width of about half a foot. The shape appeared to be made out of the same metal as the buildings within this city, with a thick, tinted grey panel to look inside. Inside was a human, a foetus no larger than a few centimetres, with probably another month or two at least before it would be ready to be released into the real world. Apparently Original Sin wasn?t lying when he said that this was everyone?s birthplace.

Charles looked up and around at the whole, of the gargantuan building. This factory was a vast network of conveyor belts, transporting billions of these containers between the many machines which would do any sort of unknown task in the creation of the human race.

?There?s so many.? Charles was absolutely stunned by the sight of all these foetuses currently undergoing the process between fertilisation and birth. The sheer size of these numbers made Charles start to think about life, about humanity, and about how insignificant they were as individual creatures in comparison to the overall mass of beings under the Hivemind. ?We could go our whole lives changing the world, and for what? Just to die? Just to end up becoming another statistic to add to an already bloated chart??

As he saw thousands upon thousands of near-birth children charge past him, he thought more about the statistics behind humanity. Maybe this is what it?s like to be Original Sin. To regard an entire species as a useless series of numbers, glazed over to remove any emphasis on how different each being actually is. Is that something I really want to become? He thought about the worlds he had entered, the details he had paid attention to, and similarly the details he didn?t. ...or is that something I already am?

He started to deny this idea as being true. He didn?t want to believe what he was thinking, that someone designed to be the perfect human being could have such a disregard for his fellow man. Lack of interest was one thing, but to completely ignore a whole species was almost a hysterical thing to believe. But alas, despite over seven centuries of visiting different worlds, despite having visited millions of realms and lands of amazing quality and detail, and despite having talked to hundreds of thousands of humans, he couldn?t remember the details of a single one. He couldn?t remember their height, the shape of their face, the colour of their hair; he couldn?t have even told you their name or described their stature. Even the people and beings he faced in this tournament he could barely remember the names of, such information he just viewed as unnecessary in comparison to the information about the worlds he travelled through.

Such information was just... statistics to be glazed over. He wasn?t proud of his actions, but he was now willing to acknowledge them as being true. He started to move towards the exit, as he became more aware of what he had to do. Pausing, he turned back to see the moving of the belts and sounds of the turning pistons one more time.

I wonder where I fall in the numbers and values of this world.

[hr]

It was pretty easy to retrace his steps back to where Amelia and Henry were fighting off the hordes of Regulators that were coming at the two of them. The simple fact was that every robot within sight was heading the same way; all he needed to do was blend in amongst them and see what he could do from there to get both him and Amelia away from the robots ready to kill either of them if necessary.

Amelia and Henry were now standing back to back as they fought hard against the Regulators, Henry struggling to fire straight now without a second arm. Behind them were the remains of the building Amelia had accidentally struck before with her flames, a massive, gaping hole in the metal with smoke still billowing out covering up most of the computer?s wall.

Amelia knew she couldn?t keep holding the Regulators back for long. Her energy was already wearing thin and if they didn?t move the androids would soon overpower the two of them. Grabbing Henry?s wrist, she fired another great ball of fire at the androids before running away to the back alleys.

The machines followed en mass, armed with enough weaponry to take on most armies combined, but were slowed down due to the size of the alleys and how large their numbers were. The Drifter anticipated this, and chose to take another route to both hide away from those who would probably kill him, and to see if he could get to Amelia before they could.

As Charles traversed the pathways of this city, he remembered how a similar network of alleys was the very reason for him being in this competition in the first place. However, this time he wasn?t simply running away. And so, with no idea whether he was going in the direction towards victory or that he was in fact simply hastening his demise, he looked for a little girl and her toy wolf who were probably just as lost as he was in this world.

[hr]

Amelia was lost. She knew it; Henry knew it and chances were that her opponents knew it as well. But that was irrelevant, as she kept on running through the maze of dark streets, her footsteps echoing in the natural ambience, with no other sound to interrupt such a pattern.

After a few minutes, she stopped running, as Henry dropped down to her leg and started to scout the place. As far as either of them could tell, they were alone. All they needed to do now was stay put and let the androids take care of whoever it was they were up against.

Or at least, that would have been the case if a tall figure wearing a waistcoat with a burnt shoulder and a black hat hadn?t appeared by coincidence around the corner, ready to strike. The wolf noticed first and called ?Amelia!? to warn her of the man?s appearance.

Henry tried to ready his stitched gun but didn?t have enough time before a fast-striking kick from the Drifter knocked him out of the way. Drawing his sword again, he ran towards the young witch and swung an early blow at her. Amelia only just managed to dodge it, but Charles wanted that to happen, as he grabbed her staff, the metal resonating in his hands as it tried to free itself, and discarded it to one side. As the Drifter shoved Amelia against the wall, Henry readied his gun again to fire.

?I wouldn?t do that if I were you.? Charles threatened to Henry as he raised his sword to be level with Amelia?s head, the point of the blade just touching her neck. ?If either one of you even thinks about moving, it will be at the cost of young Amelia?s life.? As the Drifter turned back to Amelia, the point of his sword poked slightly more into her throat.

?Now, if you choose to challenge me, your death shall be quick and inevitable. You wouldn?t even be able to walk a foot before I stop you in your tracks with this blade of mine.? He joked, angling the blade as he talked. ?So, as a result, I will offer you the chance of surrender instead.?

Amelia was confused at this idea. ?What??

?It?s pretty simple. If you agree to surrender, then I will see to it that you are able to leave this tournament and return to your everyday life. You will be neither better nor worse off from before you joined the tournament, but you will still leave alive. If you disagree, then your death is the only option.?

Amelia began to shudder. Once again, she was too close to death for her own likening, but she didn?t want to go back to the streets. It seemed that either way, she would lose.

Noticing the fear in her, Charles moved the sword slightly to the side and began to circle a small dot on the side of the wall. ?The reality is that something like this you shouldn?t want to win anyway. Power corrupts people, and the longer people have that power they more they stop caring about those around them -- I should know, I?ve been alive for over 900 years.? The circular motion in the blade tip stopped. ?I don?t want to see another being share the same feelings I do, let alone one as innocent as yourself.?

As he reached his conclusion, the metallic blade moved back to its original position, only an inch away from Amelia?s pale neck. ?So, do we have a deal??

Amelia was swallowing hard, trying to fight back her shot nerves from reacting. Eventually, she answered.

?No.?

The blade moved closer to Amelia?s neck. ?I?m giving you a chance to live.? The Drifter explained to her, the threatening tones in his voice now standing out amongst everything else.

Yet once again, Amelia didn?t change her mind, the fear swelling up in her chest. It pushed her over the limit. ?No! I will not go back to how things were! I can?t go back! I won?t go back!?

In an attempt to move away from the blade, Amelia kicked the Drifter in the shins. As he fell down on one leg in agony, Amelia ran from the man in black for her staff, but her legs wouldn?t carry her there soon enough. ?Amelia!? Henry called out, as the Drifter?s blade extended a few more feet before going straight through the lower chest of the little girl. As she fell to her knees, her beloved orange toy wolf ran to her side like he had done many a time before.

Charles looked at the two of them from where he was, before slowly moving forward, the blade retreating back into its hilt with every step.

He chuckled to himself. ?You humans. You just don?t get it, do you?? The sounds of his formal, leather shoes banging against the ground fill the silence between each word he says. ?You silly, ignorant, vile humans just don?t get it!?

He twisted the sword a full 90 degrees anticlockwise, widening the wound in Amelia?s gut and causing her to scream heavily. ?I offer you the chance to walk away with your lives, offer you the chance to leave here in peace no worse off than before, and this is how you repay me?! This is what you push me to?!? He extracted the blade straight from Amelia?s gut. ?A few minutes ago I was surprised at how much I hated your kind, how much I disregarded even the existence of a single human. But now, that reason is in plain sight.?

He stood back and watched, as Amelia bent over and hugged Henry tighter than she had ever hugged anything before in her life. The tears fell down constantly from her cyan eyes, mixing with the blood off of her cream shirt to stain her toy wolf?s fur to darker shades of orange and green. Henry comforted her at this time.

?Amelia.?

?I?m-I?m so afraid. Henry. The p-p-pain-?

?Amelia.? Henry?s large, comforting eyes gazed into her own. ?It?s okay. You don?t have to be afraid anymore. You don?t have to be alone anymore. You don?t have to be cold anymore. I will always be here for you.?

The young girl then fell over onto Henry. As Charles edged closer, weary of a surprise attack or spell of some kind, his findings became confirmed as the little, cherry blonde girl remained motionless.

?I guess that this is what it truly means to use my vice.?

He gazed up into the roof of the Eden Factories, before turning away and trying to find any way back to the main streets. At least there it was easier to know where you were.

Her name was Amelia. She was a little girl. Now, she?s just a series of values for the statistics.

Aaaand finished. And now, sleep! (Yaaay!)

 

[Lord Krunk]

HSIAMetalKing has sent me a PM: he has conceded defeat and won't be posting an entry.

Armitage Shanks progresses to the finals.

@sky14kemea
@Nukey
@Dastardos

Please send me the verdicts for revolverwolf and Zombie_Fish ASAP.

 

[sky14kemea]

Well I sent my verdict yesterday, but I don't know about the other judges. :0

 

[Lord Krunk]

Just letting you all know that the last two judges have replied to the call [http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheCallKnowsWhereYouLive] and I am to expect the final verdicts by tomorrow at the very latest.

The grand finale will begin the day after the verdict comes out.

Thank you all for your patience.

 

[Lord Krunk]

I've received two judges' verdicts, but both of them have discerned a victory so I'm just going to post it now.

Zombie_Fish advances.

[HEADING=2]Cast of Round 5 - Finals

Zombie_Fish
Armitage Shanks[/HEADING]​

Tomorrow, the battle for godhood begins. I'll see you there.

 

[Brett Alex]

Oooh hoo hoo. Its been a good couple of years since I've been in a final.

 

[sky14kemea]

What happened in here? Did Krunk get hit by exams again or something? D:

 

[Lord Krunk]

What happened in here? Did Krunk get hit by exams again or something? D:

Worse than that. A job.

I got the call about an hour after I posted 'tomorrow'. Free time's gotten a little sparse since. Thankfully, the weekend's coming so I can start writing again. I would've warned you but to be honest I thought it'd be written by now.

That, and Brutal Legend has escaped my attention for long enough. But I finished it so we're on good terms now.

Great game, by the way.

 

[sky14kemea]

Worse than that. A job.

I got the call about an hour after I posted 'tomorrow'. Free time's gotten a little sparse since. Thankfully, the weekend's coming so I can start writing again. I would've warned you but to be honest I thought it'd be written by now.

That, and Brutal Legend has escaped my attention for long enough. But I finished it so we're on good terms now.

Great game, by the way.

Oh God, not a job! D:

Fair enough though. xD I wish I could get a job...

 

[Lord Krunk]

Two champions faced each other through an energy field; the only thing standing between them a spire that shot straight into the luminescent centre of the hive. Both stepped forward and the gap thinned, the floor bringing them together on a small central platform. The platform was divided into two sections, one Champion standing on each.

Together, both formed a Yin and a Yang.

The Original Sin loved symbols ? there was a great poetry behind symmetry. What better use for the classic human symbol of duality? It was the clash of the titans, the final chapter in a war beyond comprehension. It was the battle that would determine the fate of Its universe.

One penultimate chuckle, the ominous fizz echoing throughout the Hive.

It had planned for this moment for billions of years. It had predicted, projected and simulated every outcome. It knew what would come next. It knew that now, when there was no choice left to Its champions, to reveal the truth to them. The ultimate truth. The punchline to the joke it had been laughing at since It had begun this game.

The platform began to rise into the core - no choice left but to ascend. The time to tell them had finally arrived.

The familiar Caucasian man appeared before the two Champions, the chuckling building into a crescendo of laughter. The man fizzed with static and disappeared, leaving behind a short, thin and humanoid creature with large claws, three tails that morphed into various shapes, and a single red eye inside its gorgon-like head. It bore a mechanical skeleton but its body was comprised of a gel that shifted shape, consistency and colour randomly. It stared at them, and they stared back at it. It felt naked, revealing Its true form to these inferior beings. And yet, It couldn?t stop laughing.

?Congratulations?, it said, ?you have made it to the end. And while this story may still end however you both choose, your choices are now limited to a single ultimate outcome.?

It paused for effect. ?I have withheld one truth from you, the most important truth about this murderous game. My last gift to you, and the final test I have.?

?There was never any plan for a successor. I had always considered myself the ruler of my creation, and it will remain so for the duration of its existence. If I am to die, I will take my creation and my knowledge to the grave.?

An opening in the outer wall of the spire gave the champions a view of Eden sprawled out before them. The entire city began to glow a luminescent blue. Within seconds, bolts of lighting were shooting from the towers into the impossibly bright core that loomed above them.

?However, I desired to perform one last merciful act to assert my Pride. I would not let my creation be ruled by its inhabitants, but I would let them continue my legacy. In that way, you will be my successors.?

?I required creative and unique minds for the Ultimate Task, and I required them to act with the fullest of their ability. People are more creative when at war, so I conjured this game for both my amusement and their preparation. I could not Integrate them, for fear of tainting the Eighth Vice that had separated the living and the automated forever. I can not understand it, and therefore can not replicate it. It is my flaw, and for that I am Envious.?

The platform breached the core of The Hive, the glow brightening further until it surrounded them with an unnaturally soothing light. Tendrils of white energy shimmered and wormed their way around them.

?Inside the core of The Hive is suspended the First Atom, which I used to artificially forge your universe. It is an unstable zone that forges entire worlds from a mere thought. Where everything you can comprehend began, everything shall end.?

?Your battle has been prepared by your previous battles, utilized to be moulded by the battle that will soon commence. The actions, thoughts and ultimate resolution of the battle will complete the universe that will be born afresh, while the one we currently reside within will be demolished in its wake. In this new universe you will reside and rule over as a god, but for the rest of your existence you will remember the sacrifices you have all made to receive my gift.?

The platform ground to a halt, disintegrating to leave the two champions and their creator floating in a sea of infinite light. The Original Sin began to shimmer once more.

?And now I leave you to decide your own fates. This will be the last farewell; my orchestration has reached its end.?

The light began to shiver and consume them, as It disappeared.

?It is up to you to decide the future now. So what are you waiting for? DECIDE!?

[HEADING=1]Round 5 - Finale[/HEADING]
[HEADING=2]The First Atom

Charles Taylor (Zombie_Fish) v Shanks (Armitage Shanks)
[/HEADING]​

Two Champions, one victor. Winner takes all ? one way or another, the battle for godhood ends here.

The Hive has been designed by the Original Sin to power the First Atom ? a mass of pure unforged existence waiting for a mind to craft it. Every Integrated mind, including those of the late Champions, are being pumped into the core in order to power it. There is no escape ? merely you, your opponent and the light that surrounds you.

A single thought, a single action and a single clash will forge entire worlds that you may fight on. As your conflict creates the universe, this is your chance to get creative. Construct worlds, weapons, armies and powers, and use them in your favour. The universe enters its final phase of creation when there remains one divine victor.

The only limit is your own imagination. Use it to your advantage, and pray to your autonomous God that your opponent is less creative than you.

 

[RagnorakTres]

Krunk, you may have crafted the perfect arena for the final battle in this game. What better way to end a war of wits and ability than in an arena defined by those very traits? Zed_Piscene, I'm proud to know that, if I lost, at least I lost to a future finalist. Shanks, I've been reading your battles with ever increasing interest and awe, and find myself unsurprised at your status as a finalist.

All luck, godspeed and may your pens run not dry, gentlemen! I'm going to enjoy this round.

 

[Zombie_Fish]

Snip

Ummm, when's the deadline?

It's just that I'm now at that time in the College year where we need to start handing coursework in or death will happen to us, so I'd prefer knowing how much of my time I would need to dedicate to this.

And I must say, this is going to be some really fun stuff to write.

Krunk, you may have crafted the perfect arena for the final battle in this game. What better way to end a war of wits and ability than in an arena defined by those very traits? Zed_Piscene, I'm proud to know that, if I lost, at least I lost to a future finalist. Shanks, I've been reading your battles with ever increasing interest and awe, and find myself unsurprised at your status as a finalist.

All luck, godspeed and may your pens run not dry, gentlemen! I'm going to enjoy this round.

To be honest, I'm surprised that I managed to make it past revolverwolf. Just being in the finals in my first Ratings War is an amazing experience for me.

Saying that, I'll try my best to do good and amuse you all. It's not like I need sleep anyway. =D

 

[Lord Krunk]

snip

I'll give you guys a choice. Do you want to do the standard 2 week round so we can begin RW6 early, or do you want to a 3 week one to (hopefully) ensure an epic finale?

If the former, you have until the 2nd of March. If the latter, you have until the 9th.

Zombie_Fish and the ever-untaggable Armitage Shanks, the decision is up to you. Just be quick so you guys are both aware of the deadline. I'll send you both a PM shortly.

If there's a clash, I'll decide the deadline.

 

[Zombie_Fish]

Snip

Personally I'm in support of setting it as three weeks and giving us more time. The second of March is only two days after my Physics coursework deadline, which will have to take priority regardless of how much time I dedicate to this.

Sorry about anyone who would like to see more awesome sooner, but my teachers aren't offering an extensin so I have to prioritise the Physics work over this.

EDIT: Posting it instead of PM so that Shanks can know my opinion on this more directly.