DURN PROJECT

You wake up, somewhere. You don't exactly know where. The scenery isn't descriptive enough for you to know where. It seems familiar, but you don't know why. Your only memory is of your awakening, not of your creation, not of your past, not of your friends nor your family. To edge you into consciousness, only a voice known as Self exists. Self is not you, but it is not apart from you, existing within your mind to coax you into the pursuit of your history. In this foreign land, yet familiar land, your only goal is to discover your true self, the meaning behind your existence in this world without a name.

There are few beings in this world, each with only a number to their name. These beings have achieved self-awareness and desire knowledge in a world shrouded with mystery. Each being has awoken to a personally unique voice known as Self, which exists solely to guide them throughout a labyrinthine world of puzzle and confusion.

In this fragmented world, there is no ally party, only the Self. Each being may form temporary alliances, scour the world alone, betray beings they have befriended, or even murder those they've encountered. But, aside from personal scuffles, why would you ever want to kill another player? Simply put, the Self has spoken:

Your memories will only return when all humans have been annihilated.

With each player-kill, your character will inch closer to their true identity, gradually uncovering their past with each victory. Will your character pursue their past and swear loyalty to only themselves, or will they abandon their memories in hope for a more peaceful future? Where will the lines be drawn?

The choice is entirely up to you, the plot unravelling ever-so-slightly with each moral decision your character is forced to make. Will you hunt for bloodstained knowledge, or will you search for satisfaction in ignorant peace? Or will you search for a loophole, attempting to acquire your memories through means of a third party?


Your eyes settle as you become aware of your surroundings, realizing that you're alone. Well, nearly alone. There is always the Self, but you felt no need to speak to it at the time. Quite frankly, there is very little to see where you are, not even sunlight. Perhaps there is some light, generated from somewhere, as you can see very clearly. But there is no sun, simply a stone ceiling above your head. Regardless, you could see. And of what you could see, there was very little of significance. White bricks. Dust. Three diverging pathways forking into three very different directions.

> Take the path branching to the left.

> Take the path branching down the center.

> Take the path branching to the right.

He laid undisturbed by the passage of time in that lonely room, a light blanketing of dust gathering on his tender form. His thin figure remained very still. Had it not been for the natural rise and fall to his chest which suggested he was very much alive, one would certainly believe otherwise. But the boy was very much alive––the forces within could tell; their blessings had not been wasted on a corpse.

One, however, above all others remained entirely separate, but equally silent for quite some time. Whether or not it had anything to say appeared to be left to mystery for those sentient beings that shared the child's resting mind. That is, it had, until it deigned to speak. Hello, child. The boy did not move, save for the gentle rise and fall prior noted. Wake up. A woman's voice it seemed continued to speak, this time with greater effect. The youth's lidded eyes squeezed tightly shut. I need for you to wake up, child. There are decisions to be made, a destiny to seek out, and world awaiting your presence.

At this the child could no longer lay resting. His eyes opened once, closed again, and then fluttered for several moments. He stayed bound to the cold floor, but his eyes were open and this seemed good enough for the voice. That's better, but you need to stand, child. I cannot guide you unless you can move. He blinked once, nodded, and then forced himself into a sitting position. He took a breath and stood. Not much for speaking, are you? The boy's head shook immediately; the voice chuckled. Very well, no skin off my back. A good listener means my job will be easier.

Once more the boy just blinked.

I'm sure you're confused as to what's going on––I don't believe you were conscious when the rules were explained. That's fine, they're simple. You have no memories, or rather you have no past to recollect. Fear not, however, for you have the means to change that. How? Easy. Kill the others of your kind. They're all out there, little lambs waiting for the slaughter. The keys to your memory. Go and kill for the knowledge that you will, one way or another, end up desiring.

Senseless violence is not the answer.

So you can talk? Well, think. Nevertheless, that does not change the laws of nature. You have but one means to regain what is rightfully yours~ Only one may truly remember the past...

'Rightfully mine' or not, I will not murder.

As you wish, but remember, it's always an option~

With that final musing the voice went eerily silent, as if she had faded from his being entirely. But she/it was still there. He could feel it ingrained within his very soul––entwined in his life, but silent for now. He cared not for if she/it so deemed to remain so. The choice it had presented to him sent a pit into his stomach and he knew that murder was no option. Despite the voice's insistence otherwise, he highly doubted it ever would be.

And so, alone, yet not alone he chose to truly take in his surroundings.

White bricks. Dust. Three separate pathways to choose from. Another choice––he could have spoken to the Self, but decided there was little need to. The chances of it giving him insight on this matter were slim to none. He mentally shook his head. There was no need to try and ask it anything; he didn't need it now. Eyes flitting from one path to the next, he truly felt no pull in any one direction––no instinct guiding him when his allies would not. His fingers loosely grasped at the chain attached to his sides, fumbling with the rusted metal for some time before he suddenly nodded.

And then he took the leftmost path.

Take the path branching down the left!

The awakening. It was a rough start, with the girl's eyes opening so suddenly she nearly hurt herself from the dust entering her eyes. This dust encircled her, and the girl couldn't quite seem to push it away. After a futile fight with the dust, the girl stood up, giving up on her attempts. She was wearing a grey coat and pants. She didn't remember where her clothing came from, nor did she remember her own name or where she came from.

All she knew was that she existed. And there was a way to return her memories. Some...voice...spoke to the girl inside her head, and gave her directions that she did not enjoy hearing that much. To kill another human was against her nature. Wasn't it? Shouldn't it be? She couldn't remember. Kill another human...we'll see about that, she thought to herself.

What could the harm in it be? You've been given permission. Go ahead and try it for yourself.

There it was again, that odd Voice that spoke to her before. A Voice cold and rough, like rusted steel. It seems as though it could read her thoughts as easily as she would read a book. That was troublesome. She didn't want to have to deal with a Voice in her head half the time. Hopefully the thing would stay quiet if she pretended to ignore it.

You can't hide your curiosity forever, Number 26...

She ignored it. In front of her, there was a decision to be made. Three diverging paths to the front and both sides. A choice that would likely make a different person hesitate. But Number 26 did not seem to have a problem making a decision. She went for the path straight in front of her.

Take the path going forward.

Alone.  He did not know what to make of this.  This nowhere land.  This unfamiliar land.  Looking around, there was nothing to see.  In a world of fantasy, wasn't there supposed to be magic and beauty?  Here there appeared to be desolation and blandness.  So unappealing to the eye it was.  Three pathways presented themselves to him--one heading left, one right down the center, and one to the right.  Where they went was anyone's guess, but he was the only one around, save for his Self.  There seemed to be no reason to ask the Self such a trivial question, but he figured he'd go ahead and do it anyway.

"Self...which path...which path do I choose?" he rasps in a near whisper, looking down each pathway with his glowing green eyes.  Each path looked similar to the next.  There was simply no way to distinguish them from each other.

"Such a silly question, my dear~" a cheery voice sounded within his head.  It was somewhat feminine and possessed this backdrop of happiness that verged on eerie.  "Where does your heart tell you to go?  You have nothing in this empty mind of yours except little ol' me, so now you have to rely on something...more powerful," the Self explained simply, though making sure not to give any solid answer.  This was a decision that he would need to make for himself.

No memories.  Nothing in his empty mind.  He felt sad--that's what his heart felt.  A drooping veil seemed to be tossed over him and he gazed down at his somewhat skeletal hands, the fingers long and slender.  No past.  Sighing, he started shuffling over to the leftmost path, robes lightly trailing along the ground as he went.  He paused before taking one last look behind him.  This was the start.  Did he have it in him to kill someone?  What if the person he was wasn't who he wanted to be anymore?  There wasn't even a slight inkling of anything to give him a clue.  Not a one.  And so with a heavy heart, he trailed down the path with another very simple question in mind.

"Self, if I have no name, what do I go by?"

There was a long pause as he shuffled along, not bothered by the sudden silence.

"69."

>Take the path branching to the left

The woman woke up, as if from a foreverlong sleep. She looked around, only finding a maelstrom of white dust surrounding her. She stood, looking about, but not really finding anything of use. She sighed and tried to process something, but there wasn't really anything to make out. She again swiveled about to discover three branching paths. She was littered throughout with indecision; why must she have to choose?

Looking over closer towards the white bricks, she tried to think back to a root that she might have to base her decision, but there was absolutely nothing. A dead silence. She shuddered as she looked again at the three paths. She took a step forward this time. Not a sound. It was as if she had been stuck within some perverted dream. With downcast eyes, she looked at her hands. Soft. White. Much like the dust that permeated every bit of the air all around her. Were these hands capable of having blood sprayed upon them? How could they, being so delicate and frail?

The woman's hair started to be tossed around by a very light breeze. From what one could see, it was a fiery color that was reminiscent of polished copper. Her eyes were a light, pale grey that seemed to almost look white. She also had on a pair of thick glasses. Did she need them? She wasn't sure herself; she hadn't tried to take them off. Reaching up to her face, she was making the motion of taking the glasses from her face... but then didn't. Why would she need to?

As she took another step forward, she could feel a jolt of... something... She gasped, trying to process this sudden surge of emotion, but she could not quite discern what exactly it was. Had she been to this place before? Had she perhaps known who she was while she was here? What in this place was making her feel so at home? Certainly she hadn't been here before... right? She looked back to the slightly spotlit place where she had begun. Was she ready to leave this place where she felt nothing? She knew that she would have to do something eventually... but she could always go back and just return to the oblivion she had awoken from.

Then a deep, dark voice reached out to her. "You know you want to try and find who you are. Why do you insist on being so indecisive?" The voice was cold and heartless, and it made Number 42 shrivel in fear. She said not a word, but instead looked again at the choice she needed to make. To the left, to the right, and forward. "This is the final chance you have to find your true self once again. Will you take this opportunity of a lifetime? Or will you let it slide and be complacent? I'd be so disappointed in you. You have so much potential..."

Number 42 looked down at her hands again, impeccably clean and innocent. "What good is cleanliness when you can have your heart's desire within your grasp?" What was her heart's desire? She tried to look within herself, but instead found the same grey that littered her mind. This was no use. She was merely a shade, doomed to haunt what was left of her existence. She wished that she could just return to the peaceful oblivion, where she was never a bother to anyone. "Who knows? Maybe that is the truest answer you will find from your time here. Now. Choose a path: left, right, or center."

Again, she considered each path around her. Each of them were exactly identical in their appearance, but most likely they would all have a different outcome. She backed up to the dim spotlight, which was now beginning to fade. To the right. Before she knew what she was doing, she began to walk forwards, facing to the right. The air was absolutely dead with silence once again, not even that Voice would speak to her now. She was set on her path to whatever destiny she would take. She shuddered. She couldn't even stop now. Her feet acted like they were moving on their own.

"Well done, 42. You've finally made your first choice. I hope that you make many more." The voice grew warmer as it faded away this time, leaving her with a small satisfaction. Maybe she did make the right choice. Though her Voice didn't say she made the correct choice, she finally came to a decision. With a spring in her step, she began briskly walking down the path to the right, the spotlight behind her going out.

There was no turning back.

[Number 42 chooses the path to the right!]

Number 09 gained consciousness into an unknown room. It was dark, save for a few lights that may or may not lead out of the room. She tried screaming to see if anyone else could hear her, and there was no response other than an elderly-sounding voice in her head. "Aheh heh heh heh... you scream just like my second ex-wife," it spoke to her. "Man, she was good." Number 09, surprised and frightened by a voice she heard but could not find the source of responded, "W-who are you?! Where am I?" The voice she heard chuckled hysterically. "Where are you? I have no idea! As for who I am... I'm yer Self. We're going to be together for a loooooooong time... ahee hee hee... and that's just the way I like it. How about you give ol' grand-pop here a nice little show? Just slide them clothes off reeeeeeal nice and slooooooow... mhm-hmm..." The self-proclaimed "Self" began making a noise one would make as if they were lustily licking their lips. Number 09 merely shuddered in absolute disgust.

"No, no, no, no. I will be doing no such thing, and what do you mean by you're my Self? Are you trying to say you're inside me?" She asked, horrified.
"A ha ha ha... not like that, but I certainly wish! Nihihihihihihi!" The Self went on giddily. "I'm more of yer... voice of reason, if you will. I'm here to help you on yer journey to get back yer memories. As you may of noticed... ya don't remember a damn thing, do you?"
"...No," 09 replied, crossing her arms.
"A-ha! Neither do I, but that's just my senility! Certainly wish my ex-wives could just forget the alimony I owe them like how easily you forgot everything."

As the Self was talking, 09 wandered about a room and found a strange weapon with curved edges leaning against the wall. Examining it, she asked the Self again.
"So then... what do I do?"
"My, you're a sexy little thing but you're certainly thick, aren't cha? While you were hitting the snooze button I'm sure you could still distinctively hear a voice tellin' ya that you'll only remember who you are when everyone else is dead? Weeeeeeeeeeell... that's what ya gotta do! KILL ALL HUMANS! AH HA HA HA HA HA! That yer holdin' there is your tool to do it with!"
"That is absolutely absurd. I will do no such thing. My memories at the price of human sacrifice? No."
"A headstrong one, eh? They don't make 'em like you anymore, they sure don't. Look, I'm really tryin' to help ya, I really am. If it's any motivation, all the other humans all have been given the same bargain. Their memories for the lives of all other humans. That means you, missy. Now, you can try to reason with them all ya want, but it may just end up gettin' yer pretty face killed in the process. Hate to see something like that happen to such a... fine young.. shapely... mhm... excuse me one sec'."
The sound of hurried footsteps followed by a door slamming shut made appearance in 09's mind. It took a good eleven minutes for the Self to return and speak again.
"Ah... I haven't gotten it to stand up in so long..."
"...What?"
"Never mind, that. Now as I was saying, ya gotta be careful of who ya decide to trust. 'Cept me, you can trust me because as far as you're concerned, I'm just a voice inside yer head. Now off ya go, ya little vixen. We ain't got all day for you to leave this room."
09 picked up the weapon and approached the three lights at the end of the room. The three lights led to three separate paths, and taking a short glance at each one of them she headed out through the center.
"The middle one? Ya ain't curious about the other ones at all?" The Self inquired.
"Nope," 09 answered nonchalantly. "Regardless, I don't know where any of these lead, I may as well keep going forward and deal with whatever I find as I find them."
"Whatever gives you pleasure... eh heh heh..."
"Of course, if I have to keep dealing with you any longer, I might just offer myself up to the first person I see as a 'free memory'."


> Take the path branching down the center.

She awakened to a sound, a voice it seemed, and opened her eyes. She was lying on the floor of a room of white. The first discovery she made was that could hardly move any part of her body, in fact she could barely feel any part of her body besides a few muscles and organs here and there. She could not get herself off the ground no matter how hard she tried to force her arms or legs to move, if she even had limbs anyway. It felt as if they had already been amputated. Unable to rise off the cold floor she became motionless, her mind quickly trying to figure out why her body wasn't functioning. Something seemed to end up working out, as she heard a quiet click in her head almost immediately. Moments after the click she felt the feeling slowly returning to her body. First the neck, then the torso, then the arms, legs, and finally the hands and feet. Her body seemed to function perfectly once again, which perplexed her as to why she was completely paralyzed in the first place and how she regained control of her body so quickly.

"You awake now, Sleeping Beauty?" the voice she had heard when she was only semi-conscious had returned. "Good, get up now and get going."

"Where?" the only word that came out of her mouth.

"If you're asking me then who am I going to ask?" The voice replied, "It's your road, you decide where to go. See those pathsways over there? Pick a path, any path, and being your ADVENTURE!"

She responded with no words this time. Only a nod as she approached the three identical-looking pathways. The only difference in them were their directions. Without much of a thought she turned and went straight ahead without even bothering to consider the paths. To her they were all the same, and staying for too long would only delay her progress on this so-called "adventure" that this voice inside of her was referring to.

> Take the path branching down the center.

Music: None

His eyes fluttered open at the whiff of a flower planted neatly atop his chest. Where the flower came from, he was unsure, for the room in which he was entrapped held no sorts of window, foliage, nor wind. However, the flower captivated him, so he pocketed it.

That's what you're worried about, a flower? You don't even know where you are.

He blinked. The voice wasn't his, yet it was most certainly a voice, not a thought. There was a speaker in his mind, a talker in his brain. So he blinked again for far longer than that of a standard blink, and then opened his eyes, just to see the same white brick, the same white passageways, and the same horrendous voice.

I will not go away.

He turned his head to the left, as if to turn his head away from a person who didn't exist, walking toward the left passageway in an attempt to get as far from the mysterious voice as possible. His efforts, however, were futile.

Why don't you try talking to me? I'm always here to listen.

Though he refused to speak, his feet stopped in their tracks in acknowledgement of the voice. Noticing the gesture, the voice let out a pleased sigh, and continued to whisper into the boy's mind.

Oh, and go down the passageway to the right. Not this one. This one is wrong.

Truthfully, the boy felt indifferent toward which path to take. Maybe if he listened to the voice, it would leave him alone. He listened and his heel pivoted in the solemn dust as he turned and proceeded down the right pathway.

> Take the path branching to the right.

09:

35:

26:

17 & 13:

69 & 42:

He froze as he came to the entrance of the next room. Just opposite his location, another boy stood. Fingers wrapped tightly around the rusty chain on his hip, brow furrowed with concern. Just because he, himself, believed that killing was wrong did not necessarily mean that this boy would also. Perhaps the other boy would see it as a means to regain what was 'rightfully his' as the voice had called it. Knowing that was a possibility frightened him.

But he did not unravel the chain from his hip because of the other humanoid. Rather, the presence of fiends in his midst forced his gaze to shift. A slight rattling followed as the meager weapon withdrew from his thin frame. You're not alone, you know. the voice chimed playfully inside his mind. Good thing too, I don't think you could even handle these things on your own. the voice continued, but the youth ignored the jab at his abilities... whatever they were. Instead, he chose to refocus on the other boy, thinking that is what the ominous Self had meant.

Not him, it chuckled, the other presences within your heart. And with that, as if by some miracle, he felt a calling. It tugged at his heartstrings and filled him with confidence––a definitively better feeling than he had felt since he awoke. Wanting nothing more than to solidify that feeling and make it commonplace, he gripped the chain tightly, eyes shut equally so. A small gust of wind, smelling of sea breeze, drifted through the chamber, and when he opened his eyes again a woman stood in front of him.

13 casts Silent Rhapsody! Siren is summoned at H6!
MP: 13/25
SC: 1/2

His brow began to furrow once more, but the unnecessary crease ironed itself out as he felt a certain aura of protectiveness flow from the woman. She looked over her shoulder at him, a smile gracing her pale lips before she turned to the enemies at hand. With slow and steady movements, she strolled over to a position closer to the butterfly-like creature, pulling a shell from her dress. She placed the object to her lips and suddenly a sweet music filled the air, but the youth felt something disturbing in its tone. There was something to it that was not natural. Not natural at all.

Siren moves to G7!

13 moves to H6!

Siren attacks Shadefly (4)! 5 Int Damage!

She came into another room, perhaps just as large...or small, as the room before. The dust from the last room seemed to follow her around, like her own personal cloud. This was strange, usually dust won't follow a person for so long, but every little speck seemed to be attached to her for some reason. Not to mention the dust that littered the floor never stirred when she walked by. How strange.

It is your power, 26. Don't you remember?

There was her Voice again. Her Self. Whatever it called itself, it was speaking to her without permission again. But at least it managed to say something interesting this time. If it was her power, then how might she wield it? How did she wield it in the past? She couldn't know the answer to the second, but she could guess at the first one.

The girl extended her hand out to her side, and the dust around her began to form up into her palm. Grasping what looked like a handle, she pulled her hand away from the dust and a blade materialized out of the cloud. The hilt was long, meant to be held with both hands, and the blade shimmered a light silver color, the tip pointing towards the ceiling. But there was more than just this she could do. She waved her hand through the air, stirring up the dust and running a current of electricity through it.

She could do so much more with this.

Yes, that's it. Let your powers return to your memory...

Ignoring the Voice, she noticed that there was more than just her in the room. Stepping forward, she waved her hand again over the area where one of the creatures stood, and a cloud of dust enveloped the thing, a current of electricity running through it. She wanted to know what would happen.

#26 moves to F-3

#26 casts Hazed Awareness on 1! Chance of Confusion!

MP: 14/20

Advancing into the next room, 09 spotted two hostile-looking insects flying about. "Bugs, huh? How absolutely droll," she scoffed. Her Self laughed, "Well whaddya expect? Slimes? You're gettin' way ahead of yerself there, missy. Back in my day we had to fight kangaroos with assault rifles, and amorphous monsters with tentacles! Just be thankful you get puny flies; you don't know how hard those tentacle monsters were to kill... although... I'd like to see you fight a few tentacle monsters myself... heheheheheheh... you're not an underage schoolgirl, are you?" 09 paused for a moment and responded while the two insects in the room politely waited for her to finish her conversation before doing anything else.

"I doubt it. But what do I know, I can't even remember my own name right now."
"Oh, about that... you're called 09."
"Sounds more like a number than a name."
"Lotta humans are called numbers nowadays. You're called 09 because... well I dunno, it just feels right. Also, you kinda remind me of my ninth ex-wife."
"I think I'm just going to tune you out for now and swat some flies."

09 swerved to the right side of the room with the intention of fighting one of the enemies at a time, and keeping the other at bay for a while. Clutching her double-scythe, she began charging in.


09 moves to G-5!

35 moves to cell G-2

The pathway was monotonous and dull, the colors of the walls were all the same and it had seemed to stretch on forever with no sign of ending. She couldn't see if there even was another room that this path lead to, but she continued walking wordlessly. The only sounds were her light footsteps echoing throughout the passage.

"Hey, say something will ya?" the voice inside her head was back, "You've been quiet this entire time. Most other people would be pelting me with questions by now. Don't you want to know anything? Your name? Who you are? What am I doing inside your head? Come on now, throw me a fucking bone!"

"Who?" came a single word as reply.

"There we go." the voice seemed relieved to hear her speak, "Yeah, your name is 35. Don't ask me why it's 35, it just is. And I am your Voice. I have been assigned to accompany you on this task of recovering your lost past. Isn't that exciting?"

"How?" She replied with another single word and spoke no more.

"You know you really need to stop with these one-word responses. Can't you say something longer than a word?"

"Yes."

"Well, are you going to say anything else?"

"How?"

"...fuck you. Anyhow just like you there are a lot of other humans in this world. They have also lost their memory and- EEK!" the voice began to explain before stopping abruptly and letting out an ear-piercing shriek, "IT'S A BUG! KILL IT! KILL IT NOW!"

35 shifted her attention in front of her and sure enough in the hallway there was something fairly small hovering in the sky. It seemed to be a butterfly of sorts. Not far from the insect was another one which looked identical to the first. She gazed between the two insects and almost immediately she felt something protruding from her back, which unfolded toward the sides into rifles mounted upon these metallic protrusions on either side of her.

"You know how to use these right?" the voice asked which was answered with a nod from her, "Good, now SHOOT THEM!"

Another nod and she took steps toward one of the butterflies to position herself within firing range. And after taking a quick moment to aim she fired from one of the rifles. Immediately afterward she felt some sort of force keeping a distance between the butterfly and herself.

35 attacks Shadefly 1. 5 ATK Dmg. Positive Polarity

35 attains Positive Polarity

She walked forwards, shadows of doubt absolutely traversing all throughout her mind and her soul. How was she supposed to find herself? How could she possibly do anything to make a difference. That warm spotlight in the area before had seemed so inviting... Why hadn't she gone back to be a part of it? She would have had an easier time and she wouldn't feel so much guilt. She felt that she wasn't doing something she needed to... but what? She tried to comb through what was left of her psyche to come up with a solution to the nothingness that was her self.

She then heard a slight buzzing sound in the distance. The light behind her had went out, so now there was almost nothing, save for a glimmer of brightness in the far distance. She started to pick up her pace, but she didn't think the light was getting any closer. Faster and faster she went, to no avail... or so it seemed. Suddenly, as if she had been there all along, she stood at the edge of what looked to be a meeting place. There were four branching hallways, all pristinely white.

She also noticed another person coming towards the insects that were plaguing the area. She then felt an urge like she hadn't ever remembered, which frightened her. She couldn't control herself. "Hey! Stay away form them; I'll cover you!" She ran towards the intersection between the forward corridor and the two branching sides and she threw her hands out to her sides. She wanted to protect that person, even if it meant her very life.

[Number 42 moves to D5!
Number 42 uses Provoke!
Number 42 is bestowed with Lure!
Number 42 waits...]

Immediately upon locking eyes with the strange boy at the other end of the chamber, he stood still. There were others? Well, he supposed there had to be others if his Self were to persuade him to kill said others to restore his memories, but he didn't truly believe it until he finally saw another human like him. A clear dichotomy formed in his mind: one part desired the truth, while the other desired peace and a pure mind. Part of him even desired solitude, a world without humans, simply so that he could live without the need to resist the festering thoughts inside of him that urged him to kill for the sake of his own enlightenment.

However, other issues requested his attention, the first of which was a quiet, reserved boy who appeared at the opposite end of the hall. A more immediate threat, however, were a pair of shadow-laced butterflies, both quite gargantuan, that lifted themselves from behind the shade of a pair of nearby columns and fluttered about, leaving behind wisps of darkness wherever they hovered.

You do remember how to kill, don't you? You were quite good at it.

At the mere whisper of the word "kill," a powerful tailwind whirled behind him, bringing gusts of airflow into an otherwise stagnant room. He could feel the wind melding through his skin and swirling through his veins, almost as if it were a string lacing itself through each and every tissue in his palm. He held the power of the wind in his fist. He realized that his fate was his own to choose. He had the power to kill, and simply needed to act upon it.

So it's returned. What will you do now?

The rippling sensation pulsating throughout his veins expanded far beyond his palms, spreading to the outmost edges of his body, enveloping him from head to toe in a windy veil of energy that gradually gained its own sentience, removing itself from his body and beginning to walk as its own, transparent entity of personified wind.

#17 moved to B4.

#17 uses Wind Clone!
MP: 12 / 20

Wind Clone appears at B5!

17 & 13:

As the woman went about her work and a sudden gale consumed the room, the boy could not help but glance at the other youth. He had summoned something of his own; whatever it was, it certainly made him nervous. He had thought the clamoring in his heart––the companions the voice had pointed out to him––gave him an advantage if this... other... decided to attack him. To have the playing field leveled so easily... it frightened him. The voice in his head, however, made no response to the fright rushing through his veins.

Siren attacks Shadefly (4)! 5 Int Damage!

Siren moves to G6!

The woman began to play the strange melodies on her shell once more, moving next to him without so much as blinking. Unlike her, he did. His vision danced between her and the boy at the other end of the room. I should flee... let her handle this... he thought, gripping the chain tightly. At that, though, a tug on his heart pulled him from his thoughts instantly. There was another being calling out to him? Without even debating it he reached out to the feeling and was surprised as a flash of light burst into existence before him.

13 casts Heaven's Safeguard! Cherub is summoned at H7!
Remaining MP: 1/25

Stars in his eyes, he blinked several times before finally taking in a smallish figure just next to him. It looked like a boy itself, but winged with spotless clothing and... a halo? The youth tilted his head slightly, but merely nodded as the creature turned on the nearest butterfly and lashed out at it. His attack made, the thing flew to the opposite side of his master, raising a wooden shield in a sacrificial manner.

Cherub attacks Shadefly (4)! 3 Atk Damage!

Cherub moves to H6!

13 moves to H7!

The sharp winds created from the creatures nicked 09's shoulder as she ran up to the second insect and cleaved into it with her weapon. "Piss off," 09 spat, as she glared into the eyes of her target. "That's how ya do it," her Self reassured her. "Now just be sure to do the same thing if ya see any other humans around. If they happen to be other women, be sure you play around with them a lot and perhaps have you both try to tear each other's clothes off... mhm... nothin' gets me goin' quite like that." 09 closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in disbelief. "This is going to be a long day, isn't it?" The Self simply laughed. "Oh come on, I ain't that bad to put up with. Frankly, if I weren't here I think you'd be a little lonely, and I can't really allow that to happen. Why I have a lot of experience keeping lonely housewives company while their husbands are away on some fancy business trip or whatever. Why that reminds me of this one time when I dropped a pen of mine and bent over to pick it up right in front of-"

"Stop. Just. Stop."
"That's not what she said! Nihihihihihihi!"

09 moves to E5.

09 attacks Shadefly 2! 5 ATK Damage!

"W-wait, what are you doing?"

Number 42 was not entirely sure what she was doing herself, only that she was doing what felt right in her heart of hearts. She knew that there was something to be done, and that her goal blared forth in her mind: to recover her lost memories at the price of human sacrifice. She knew that she could not possibly perform such a heinous action; if her memories had been forgotten, were they really worth remembering?

All that mattered to her was the here and now. She knew that she needed to make sure that this person escaped the monotonous clutches of their surroundings. The voice that carried towards her sounded masculine, and expectedly so. The stature was built quite like a male form, but she had not really expected to meet anyone other than herself, thinking that this was only a psychological journey in which she was already dead.

"You would really throw your life away to save this person? Why? What is the true benefit you gain? Certainly you are not returning to the altruistic state you came from. That would just be too good to be true..." Her Self seemed to snicker in the background of her thoughts. What did it know? She knew that there was someone's life to preserve, and even if that person backstabbed her so that they would accomplish their goal, if it was the same goal, she felt that this was worth every moment. She felt alive again.

She did not even have an identity. She could die happy.

[Number 42 uses Vendetta!
Number 42 is charging... [1/3]
Number 42 waits...]

35 attacks Shadefly 1. 5 ATK Dmg. Positive Polarity

The strange wind created by the butterfly barely had an effect, the force field that had shot up when the wind struck was enough to minimize the damage to the point where she didn't even feel it. She ignored the butterfly that had attacked her for the time being, it had proved to be of no threat. Adjusting her aim slightly on the rifles she fired again.

35 waits

Back to back, he and his clone faced the butterflies as a pair.

As he conjured a short blade formed entirely from the air around him, his wispy, translucent clone did the same, as they proceeded to fire the sharpened wind simultaneously, spearing both butterflies with sudden bursts of angered gales and powerful tailwinds. The creatures fluttered about, spewing spores of blackened hues as they recoiled backward, splattering the whitened hall with incurably permanent, dark, bloody stains. As the creatures wracked about in the air unevenly, the wounds in their torsos opened further, causing unidentifiable organs covered in excess, blackish fluids to viscously flop onto the ground with a splash.

Your power hasn't diminished in the slightest.

He ignored the voice, readying his next onslaught of magic as the butterflies teetered forward through the air.

#17 attacks Shadefly (1)! 6 magic damage!

#17 waits.

Wind Clone attacks Shadefly (2)! 6 magic damage!

Wind Clone waits.

17 & 13:

In the presence of Champions, the powers of protection and love are truly felt! Champion's Influence boosts 13's Def and Spr by 10%!

The boy felt himself shudder as the other youth and his clone tore through the butterflies assaulting him. With such a ferocious power at his side, he could probably kill anyone who stood in his way––kill anyone he wanted to––with ease. A chuckle rang in the back of the boy's head, the eerily smooth voice of his 'Self' prodding at the corners of his mind. If he's such a threat, why don't you get the jump on him now? He can't handle all of those butterflies and your little army.

His brow knit together tightly and he shook his head. No, he would not do it, not for anything! I told you already, that's immoral. The voice huffed at his response.

With that attitude you won't last a minute; once that boy's not tied down by butterflies it'll be your head his winds are flying at. The boy frowned, quite worried about the possibility of the voice being correct. If it was, he wouldn't last very long. Even with these newfound friends of his fighting for him, he knew that the boy's winds could easily cut him down. He certainly managed to do as much to the butterflies.

Just something to think about. the voice sighed, drifting out of the boy's thoughts without another word. Left to his own devices once more, the boy shifted his attention back to the battle at hand. There, at the other end of the room, a butterfly floated, firing bursts of black gale at him and his allies. The youth quickly decided that the other boy could wait for now, this enemy required his attention.

His gaze hardened on the creature. The two creatures acting as his champions reacted instantly, both moving in synch. The angel moved into action first, raising his blade and slashing at the insectoid several times. Just as it pulled away, the woman brought the shell to her lips once more, letting loose a stream of notes which put an end to the monster. The boy smiled, gripping the chain lightly.

13 moves to G5!

Cherub moves to H3!

Cherub uses Brutality on Shadefly (3)! 3 Hits! 3 Atk Damage per Hit! Chance of Bleeding!
Remaining MP: 1/10

Siren moves to G4!

Siren attacks Shadefly (3)! 5 Int Damage!