#Archagent File: Story

[thewertsearch]

It seems he's the only one of his kind with this mutant candy-red blood. 

Wow, Sburb really wants these trolls to be mutants. 

However he pulled it off, Karkat definitely had the right idea. This seems like the kind of arbitrary thing you’d be culled for - doubly so, since his mutation sort of calls the caste system into question. After all, if it fails to categorize all trolls, then what other flaws could it have? 

He thinks he was put on this planet covered in an ocean of his own blood to be taunted. Punished for something. Saddest story you ever heard. Got to do something to shut him up.

That’s all over now, though. You’re the normal one here, Karkat. 

Meet your blood brother.

> Karkat: Be in cahoots with Jack.

I love Jack, but I never thought he’d be involved in a moment that’s genuinely sweet. 

You and your like-blooded accomplice soon put OPERATION REGISURP into motion, a contingency plan which the archagent conveniently had on file and named himself.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. 

...you know, I swear I can only see Red Team prototypings on this doodle. I guess the Red Team did have a head start, so there would be a timeframe in which the Queen only exhibits their traits. 

Actually, Equius was the first Blue Teamer in, and there might be a hint of an Arthour udder in the middle there. It’s hard to tell. 

Your whole team executes the plan along the course of its journey, employing espionage, mind control tactics, political sabotage, vicious interrogations and cold blooded assassinations. Everyone does their part and you begin to learn the true meaning of teamwork, as well as this troll disease called friendship.

Yeah, this is a very different session to the one we’ve left. The trolls sound like absolutely brutal Players - but you have to admit they’re effective. 

It probably helps that they’re somewhat miraculously learning to work together. I hope this is another case of non-linear storytelling, because it’d be a waste for all this character growth to happen off-panel.

With each prototyping by each player, the royalty of both sides would evolve.

Bad ass. 

Come to think if it, this disproves one of my old Snowman theories. Shortly after the Intermission, I guessed that her teleportation and green aesthetic were due to a First Guardian prototyping - but it turns out she’s eleven parts lusus and one part frog. There’s no space left for anything else. 

Plus, she doesn’t have all these enhancements in the Intermission, so her future self will probably lose the Ring entirely. It would have been hard to Exile her if she was wielding it, so the trolls may have stolen it in one of their acts of ‘political sabotage’. 

#2301 #homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5 #s28

[selanpike]

Another question about peccant, relating around my recent post……does peccant have a dad? Or. A mom😭 just curious

depends on the timeline and how closely i'm following """"canon""""

theoretically as a dersite he wouldn't have parents because they're all cloned

however pretty often i do go with the headcanon that "yeah they're all cloned, but the ones not intended for the battlefield are assigned a parent (or parents) to socialize them"

in which case his parentage is step one of the trauma tango that led to him being the huge piece of shit he is. his mom died shortly after the paperwork was filed, his dad only stuck with it because he knew he was getting the future archagent, and as a result his dad was controlling and abusive because he wanted to use scoff to get more power for himself.

(also i like to think that scoff was home schooled, poorly, so while he's an expert at words and laws and stuff, there are very basic science facts that he just does not know)

anyway i have a lil short story from one of my rps that kinda sums up scoff's relationship with his dad.

I should really put that on ao3.............

[archagentnexus]

Archagent Scenes: Johann and Jakob Talk

(Scene Context + Synopsis: Johann and Jakob are at the top floor of the Archagent HQ tower in the hallway just before the doors to the High Chancellor's throne room. The two are arguing about the future of the Covenant in what direction it needs to go for the good of mankind. In this last half of their exchange, Jakob is appalled by Johann’s suggestion that they dissolve the House of Lords, a parliamentary congregation of wealthy/talented mages that are “elected” to represent their particular country or district of the country.)

[AN: There are a lot of references to the Archagent lore in this. So much so that I can’t really put up a reference page at the moment, but if you’re ever curious about more on the details of the context, just IM me or shoot me an ask!]

"Johann, y-you can't be serious! How could you say that after all we've done to stop the civil war? To put an end to the madness caused by Richtofen and his Eve of Adam?" cried out Jakob in disbelief. 

Johann held a strong posture with his hands folded meticulously behind his back as he was facing the window away from Jakob. "Do not presume to know me, child. I am aware that the Archagents who collaborated with the Eve, regardless of their intentions and personal beliefs, were dangerous fanatics and traitors to our cause. We are in agreeance on this... however..." His stoic expression becomes grim, almost angry when recollecting his thoughts on Eve’s attempted coup. "While I condemn their actions wholeheartedly and shun their New Human supremacy nonsense, the one thing I cannot ignore is their anger... and where it stems from." He turns his head over his shoulder just slightly to address Jakob more directly. "You of all people should have seen and heard what was going on in that battlefield... For on both sides, the Archagents did not just mourn the loss of their comrades, the people who they once called friends and family, but they screamed out in utter confusion... as to why protecting the House of Lords was considered loyal while the Eve's attempts at purging the corrupt Magistrate system was considered treason." 

Jakob bit his lower lip. He knew well enough what Johann was talking about. He was there. He knew where that pain stemmed from, that anger... and yet... "We don't get to decide that, Johann. You know the face of the New Eden Covenant depends on our ability to preserve our own ideals on democracy! We need that balance. We need to be able to divide that power amongst ourselves even if we disagree. How could the rest of the world view the Archagents as 'liberators' if we suddenly decide to become usurpers and act like our own brand of Gods? It's not right, nor is it just-"

“Just?!" roared out Johann as he turn around, picked up Jakob by the collar of his blouse several feet into the air and pinned the frail brunette against a marble pillar with his massive forearm. "Since when has turning a blind eye to the Magistrate's whole history of corruption ever been just?! Our whole civil war was made possible because of their petty factionalist politics, their greed, their exploitation of OUR ideals!" 

After a few seconds of taking deep breaths from the outburst, Johann released Jakob who collapsed on the floor wheezing as he struggled to get up and compose himself upright. "I... I understand why you're angry," said Jakob quietly. "I've read the archives... about the deal that was struck to stop the investigation on the German magistrates for any collaborators of the Hand of Faust in exchange for-" 

"You're too young to understand, child," interrupted Johann. "You haven't lived long enough to have seen that history yourself. You may have your books and your data, but you never had to sit there and watch the very people, the perpetrators to the destruction of your homeland, become part of the most powerful government in Western Europe and then watch them receive praise and gifts as if they were also heroes of humanity... You never had to hold your tongue and had to listen to the mass graves that cry out for justice when you knew you could deliver but chose not to... because you were told that this was for the greater good..." Johann's voice trailed off as he turned away and started pacing to cool himself off.

Jakob frowned deeply as he walked slowly and hesitantly over to the other. "I get it, Johann... I know what that's like. Believe me, I do. I-I know you've always looked down on me... for having been the Optic's branch leader because of the circumstances around Richtofen and the Third Generation... Not once did I ever believe that I deserved to take that position nor did I ever desire it myself, especially not after know who my predecessor was... but even still... the Third Generation was my fault. It was based on my serum, the one I thought Richtofen was going to implement safely with adults who willingly consented--- but ignorance is never an excuse for the lives lost. I know this... and I have to live with that every day, trying to make amends by helping the ones who did survive while ensuring that we never go down this route again... And for a long time, I felt that the burden of guilt was all on me, but I realize that... it's not just about me, but it's about how the Covenant had participated in letting it go this far... That's why for me, it's important that we always do the right thing, so we never have to go down that path again." 

Johann remained silent for a moment then he speaks without moving a muscle. "If you truly believe that, then you know that the right thing to do is to abolish the House of Lords and have the Magistrates subordinate to the Archagent's authority." 

"No! That isn't the right thing to do.... E-Even if we destroy what's corrupt, whatever we do to replace that system, to restructure our society, no matter what, it would be on a foundation of fear!"

"Humanity has always acted in the interest of embracing as well as combating their fears, Bishop. The fear of death, the fear of loss, the fear of being isolated and forgotten... these things drive every human instinct and rationale. It is not an unnatural thing that we should be honest about that. When the Magistrates fall in line, they will do so because being alive and having some semblance of their former power will be in their self-interest... Meanwhile the public will, for the most part, have no qualms about this either. They would be joyous at the fall of a decaying bureacracy set up by the elite Magistrates and would either cling to our promises of security, which we would always uphold justly, or they will quietly dissent amongst themselves, but they know either way, they wouldn't change a thing because we'll still provide for them everything else they need." 

"But you would take away the one thing that the Archagents had promised them from the very beginning, Johann," said Jakob sternly. "You would take away their hope."

"Hope!" scoffed Johann as he turned to face Jakob with distainful eyes. "And what use has hope to do with us now? They should be grateful that they still have hope to see tomorrow in which they are not yet forced under the heels of Angels or Demons! You are a man of science and rational thinking yet you fancied such pitiful thoughts as creating a system of governance soley based on hope?"

"And what is wrong with wanting to preserve hope?" demanded Jakob. "Is it not every man and woman's right to want something better for themselves and the people they love? Is it not our nature to desire the future in which we could be truly free from fear and not bound by it? I do not need to remind you... that the very core of our Psionics, our power, is predicated on the concept of our Willpower... and mind you, I would be damned if such a thing were never influenced by clinging to our hopes and our dreams." 

"Hmph. You speak appropriately for your youth. So silver tongued, yet damnably naive..." 

"And you talk as if you've never had hope once in your entire life!... But we both know that's a lie..." Jakob's expression softens now. "Somewhere in you, you must have believed in that too... at some point in your life, right?"

The muscles under Johann's visibly twinged with a mix of incomprehensible emotion before he snarled at the other. "Don't play therapist with me, child. That pitiful game only works on the broken and the lost, and I am neither of these things... And whatever hope I once felt before has long since past. You surely must have done your homework and read into my tragic history and how I lost my family all those decades ago, but I've since moved past that-" 

"I wasn't referring to that, Johann... I was talking about Sindro... your former apprentice."

Johann froze and for the first time in what seemed like decades, his expression lost color as it displayed shock.

"He and I were close friends you know, so... it shouldn't really come off as surprising in that he has talked plenty about his experiences with you when you mentored both him, Palladino, and Ulysses... He spoke highly of you, you know... and not in the obvious sense of how powerful or awe-inspiring you were as a leader, but how you were... 'coming around' near the end of the apprenticeship... He was proud to have been your apprentice, did you know that? He thought of you as his fath-" 

"Enough," snapped Johann though the anger in his voice trailed wistfully. 

Normally Jakob would have stopped to let the other recover and absorb all this, but the outcome of this conversation was too important to allow Johann's stubborness to reemerge. "Just answer me this. Did you not have high hopes for him at the time? When you got to shape him into the man that we knew and honored?"

"...So what if I did?" growled Johann. "Even then, where has that sentimentality led us? Led him? Six feet under, that's where! He didn't just carry my hopes, Bishop. He carried EVERYONE'S hopes! The day he died was the day... the day I'd failed him... that I let myself believe too much in the pipe dreams of a foolhardy boy who let the weight of his heroic symbol crush him, and because of that, I let him die when I could have been there to save him... It was the day I had to, once again, bury a son of my own making and then carry that pain with me until the day I die!" Johann gritted his teeth and tightened his fists, shouting at Jakob now. "Is that what you wanted to hear? That I’m just some senile old man who’s afraid of loss and pain? That I have no one else to protect while you have everything?"

"No, you're wrong, Johann!" insisted Jakob. "You don't have nothing... You may have secluded yourself from the rest of the world, but there are things that are still here for you. Your other students are still here and alive. Are they nothing? You wouldn't have trained them unless you felt something for them right? Or what about Zep in particular? Sindro's apprentice? His hopes and dreams live through Zep in a new light! Are you to tell me that everything you done to help Zep and everything that Zep has done to prove he's gotten strong enough to stand against an oppressive world means nothing?" 

Johann looked away in defiance as a look of pain and confusion marked his features. 

"And what about Elise?... Your own granddaughter? An individual who had nothing, was born into nothing, and yet she now sits as the new High Commander of the Sword Branch? A seat that you once held! Is she nothing to you?" 

"She is..." Johann started quietly, trying to think how to even answer such a thing like that. "...stronger without me... She always has been." 

"You don't believe that... I know you don't... and neither does she." 

"You talk and pry too much, Bishop... How can you even think to discuss family when you yourself have nothing of the sort?" 

Jakob gives a weary smile. "The Archagents are my family, Johann... They always have been... and that's why it's important, that as a brother-in-arms, that we win this fight the right way. But to do that, we need to... as you aptly put it in many of your speeches 'set the example and stand on which many may dream to stand on'... or something to that effect." He chuckles softly.

Johann scoffed. "Silver-tongued brat... You are lucky I am too old and tired to continue this further... but I will, out of respect for your insolence, contemplate... on what has been said..."

#Archagent File: Story

[archagentnexus]

Archagent Scenes: Zep meets Johann

So this is Johann Gebot Schaefer... the Shepherd of Judgement, leader of the Sword Branch, and the Covenant's oldest and most powerful Archagent... or even the strongest man in the world... thought Zep as he stood out in the snowy Alps mountains. Before him was a cave where Johann typically had lived in tending to his own business and sheep. How his sheep were able to survive such conditions was beyond Zep's understanding but they must be either very strong sheep or Johann was just that good of a caretaker. 

Johann was currently about 136 years old, yet he stood tall and proud with indomitable muscles like some Greek legend, scars showing on his arms and collarbone, but never on his back. His colorless blind eyes and his wrinkled, rugged complexion with a short beard showed a kind of harsh wisdom about him from over the years he's fought... He must have seen the Covenant's birth and fruition since day one. 

As Zep stood there patiently, he realized he was in the presence of his superior and without thinking, he did a Covenant salute. 

The old man in the cave sneered as he cocked his head over to Zep's direction. He couldn't see, but he could sense what movements Zep was making. "Boy's making a salute to a blind man..." he grumbles as he put another log on the fire. His sheep were huddled together in a makeshift pen, all comfortable under the safety of their shepherd. 

Finally, Johann decided to walk out of his cave to meet with Zep. He knew why the boy was here. He wanted training... he wanted to be stronger or well-known or some other crap along the lines. Intentions didn't matter to Johann, they were typically all the same to him until proven otherwise. 

"Enough with the salute. I'm not gonna waste my time with some popsicle sculpture of a fool who doesn't have the sense to know what counts as showing respect and what doesn't," said Johann bluntly.

"Er... sorry..." said Zep with an embarrassed flush on his face before putting his hands back in resting position. 

Johann sneered at him again. His breath puffed from his nostrils like steam clouds from a dragon. He circled around Zep, appearing to examine him front and back. As Zep stood still, Johann gave a light tap of two fingers against Zep's biceps, triceps, quads, core, and all... His expression saying nothing but a silent contempt for the younger. 

Finally, he stopped in front of Zep and the two just seemed to locked gazes with each other... 

Then out of nowhere, Johann unleashes a heavy uppercut to Zep's chin, sending the poor Archagent flying at least 100 ft away from where he once stood. 

Zep screamed and moaned in pain after that. He squirmed and writhed on the snowy ground as he held his bloodied and broken jaw. He had to calm himself down before applying his Psionics to heal his bones and all.

Johann had already walked alongside Zep by the time the other was finished healing. "Your pain threshold is unsurprisingly pathetic..." he snarled as he spat on the ground next to Zep. "I remember when I used to give audience to Archagents instead of a snail in a two-cent suit..." 

"Y-You didn't let me ready my Psionics," moaned out Zep. 

In response to that quip, Johann pressed the heel of his boot against the side of Zep's head, getting several screams and futile flails of resistance. "Unbelievable. How shortsighted could you even be to think that Psionics are what drive an Archagent's power."

Zep was furious now. He gritted his teeth in pain and anguish as he felt nothing but spite and rebellion against the old man. With all of his strength, he attempted to muster a kinetic blow to shove Johann off his feet. 

But nothing happened.

Johann gave a low threatening chuckle as he felt the dismay and fear emminating from Zep. "No Psionics. Not while I'm here. Not while I will it not to be, brat. See, that's the key here... Willpower. An Archagent, no, a human being knows that any goal or dream that they set out to make into reality takes no less than that ultimate drive to succeed. Every hero or monster has a role in this life, but it is not because the world has given it to them. The world owes you nothing; there is no destiny nor fate, only the conviction that one has and whether yours can outlast everyone else that stands in your way of YOUR reality that you wish to set in stone for the world." Johann put his boot off of Zep and then walked away from him. 

Zep coughed and wheezed as he struggled to get back up. 

"You have none of these things. You have nothing to live for nor to die for. Not like Sindro, your mentor who just so happened to be my apprentice.”

Zep glared at Johann. “You ever treat Sindro this way too...?”

“Yes. And yet he still walks around with that goofball smile of his. Unlike you, he learned there’s no point in being a little bitch. I will not train someone who does not know the stakes of being a man who seeks power," said Johann coldly. "Leave this place. If you try to persist any longer, I will kill you. You’re no Archagent, and you’re a disgrace to whatever legacy Sindro left onto you." 

Zep spoke up to say something, but when he saw Johann stop in his tracks to look over his shoulder with his deadly gaze, he froze in fear and felt the air grow thin. He couldn't speak. He couldn't conquer this sense of overwhelming mortality that is to come if he were to say anything in retaliation. Deep down, he knew that course of action meant death, and all of his survival instincts told him to run from here instead of pursuing this aimless path... With tears drawn in his eyes, he turned tail and ran off in the other direction. He was not ready for this. 

Not yet.

#Archagent File: Story

[archagentnexus]

Tag Dump

#Archagent File: Lore #Archagent File: Story #Archagent File: Dossier #Fire Emblem AU #Undertale AU #Kingdom Hearts AU #Message from High Command (Mun Speaks) #Archagent Updates #Archagent File: Journal Entry #Archagent RP #Crossover RP #Modern AU #Crack IC #RWBY AU

[archagentnexus]

Archagent Chronicles #1

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1R1P0q-1YoSSsmf6YB37pG-dnnbhzTaBIIvgaj8nqMFE/edit?usp=sharing

#Archagent File: Story #//don't mind me #//just archiving some old stuff

[archagentnexus]

Archagent Scenes: Initiation

Sindro rubs his neck awkwardly as he looks to Zep for a moment with a slight frown. “Are you feeling alright about this?”

Zep sighs through his nostrils before lifting his gaze to look at his mentor with a small smile and a nod. "Yea... I'm fine. Just a bit nervous, that's all."

Sindro grips Zep on the shoulder. "You and me both... It's not too late to change your mind by the way."

Zep looks to the ground. "Do you... not believe I can do this?"

"No it's-..." Sindro sighs. "I'm not gonna get into this right now in front of your friends. The only thing I have to say is that you don't have to prove anything to me, alright? I just want you to be certain that you're ready."

"And I am." Zep turns around and walks through the doors first.

Inside, there would be a large chamber and 3 other apprentices other than Zep, making him the 4th and final person to arrive to the ceremony. Sindro takes his place among the other senior Archagents.

The room was large and circular. Flooring made of dark obsidian and walls made of a silvery stone. The centerpiece of the floor was etched with the symbol of the Archagents, appropriately so for such a sacred gathering.

Zep took up his position, sitting on his knees alongside with 4 other apprentices with their respective mentor facing them.

Sindro did his best to keep a stoic expression with his hands behind his back. His gaze wanders over to an apprentice to Zep's left who seemed to be the most nervous almost to the point of hyperventilating.

"For god's sake Bernard... compose yourself," hissed the boy's mentor.

"Y-Yes sir..." murmured Bernard as he gulped dryly.

Watching that, Zep's brows furrowed a bit as he bit his lips.

Sindro looked over at the mentor. "He looks rather... nervous for someone who consented to the induction..."

The other senior Archagent snorted. "It's been 4 long years... I've trained him long enough and I've seen him in action. He has the skill, but he just needs to commit."

Sindro's eyes widened. "Please tell me you didn't coerce him into this.."

Before the other man replied, the door behind them opened slowly as a hulking man of 8 feet in stature and an aged scowl came into view. Immediately, everyone saluted him while the apprentices bowed their heads to the ground, daring not to look up.

The man overseeing the ceremony was Johann. One of the very first Archagents who fought the foundation wars that built the Covenant from its core. In spite of his age, his physique was at its pinnacle in spite of the scars. He looked over at the rest of them and the air began to feel... heavy, as if saturated with a power and a will of nothing like ever before. It would be a feeling similar to bearing witness to an awe-inspiring landscape like the Grand Canyon or standing at the top of Mount Everest. The depth and the size being large and mind-blowing. Terrifying, yet inspiring.

"Archagents... Apprentices... You stand here at the precipice of change. To answer to a calling higher than yourselves. And to make the ultimate sacrifice beyond any ties you have to friends, family, or country... This sacrifice binds you to the sacred pledge of the Archagents. The pledge of humanity as a whole... Do you answer the call?!" Johann's voice echoed as he demanded an answer.

"Always and forever!" said Zep and the other 4 apprentices.

Johann's expression does not change. He nods to the mentors for the ceremony to start. Daggers begin to levitate from their sleeves as they hovered around the air and into their hands...

"Zep... Bernard... Haydn... Hachi. Do you four willingly and knowingly accept your fates? To commit to causes greater to your own lives and legacies? To sever personal bonds to forge and preserve ones with your brothers and sisters? Have you the convictions necessary to turn visions into reality? To embrace mortality and be inspired by it?"

"Yes, High Commander!" shouted Zep, Haydn, and Hachi.

Bernard who had not yet responded as his eyes were wide and his movements feeling paralyzed by the situation. He broke out in cold sweat as he looked to his mentor who glared menacingly at him as if to say 'Do not disgrace me nor yourself here...'

"Y-Yes, High Commander!" squeaked out Bernard.

Johann's expression remained neutral, for it mattered not to him of whether these apprentices were ready, but that they made their decisions.

"Then let us begin." Johann through his blind eyes could sense the feelings of everyone in the room and so he cocks his head in Sindro's direction, the only person who seemed to be feeling doubts. "Archagent Sindro... lead the procession if you will."

Sindro, having felt the gaze of his former mentor, steels his resolve as he closes his eyes and grips the hilt of the stone dagger and faces Zep just as the other mentors do. "We..." Sindro feels his throat go dry. "...let ourselves live in war..." he recited.

"So that others may know of peace..." replied the apprentices.

"We walk the endless nights..." echoed the mentors now in unison with Sindro.

"To find tomorrow's dawn."

"We storm the gates of tyrants..."

"To prove that Gods can bleed."

"We do to others the necessary evil."

"To let good grow in the hearts of better men."

"And we commit our lives to sacrifice..."

"For we can only truly live in the legacy we leave behind."

"And if we should fall now..."

"Know that you shall not go alone."

"For we stand with you..."

"And humanity..." Zep closed his eyes. "Stands forever..."

"W-Wait," muttered Bernard. "I-I'm not rea-"

Sindro stabs Zep in the heart, and the mentors do the same to their own apprentices.

The four apprentices' eyes go wide in shock as they give what appeared to be their last breaths, then collapse onto the ground...

Zep's eyes go wide as he gasps out breathlessly. Blood running from his mouth as he collapses.

Sindro grits his teeth with tears in his eyes, hands trembling as he backs away and watches. "Please... Please make it..." he mutters quietly to himself.

Zep's body bleeds out profusely but his will refuses to let this body die. His Psionics flare up like a storm. Aura and energy manifest as he forces his cells to regenerate slowly until...

Silence.

Then Zep gets up gasping and alive albeit still very much in pain as he clutches at his chest. Soon after, the others rise from their state of death... all except Bernard.

Sindro looks like he was about to run in to help Zep up and check on him, but he knows he can't interfere until the ceremony was concluded. 

Bernard’s mentor looks to be fearful, angry even... as if refusing the reality of his late apprentice’s failure. “BERNARD! GET UP! THAT IS AN ORDER YOU LITTLE SHIT!.... BERNARD!” He shouts out, the desperation apparent in his voice now that all eyes were on him.

Johann gives a sneer of disgust in his direction. "...A weak apprentice makes for a failed master... Your pride has blinded your judgement, and it costed you and the boy greatly... But as for the rest of you.” He looks to the surviving Archagents. “Well done. You have shown conviction and the strength of will to live. Remember this pain and this death you have survived. For as an Archagent, you sever all ties with the world so that you may shape its foundation. Go now. You are recognized as one of us." 

#Archagent File: Story #tw: child death

[archagentnexus]

Zep vs. Victor (Part 2)

The possessed stone angels flung themselves with their stone swords raised high to strike down the young Archagent.

Zep gritted his teeth. His eyes flashed purple as he vanished, barely dodging the attack and leaving the angels’ blows land with a heavy thud and crack against the ground. Zep teleported at the center of the hall where he could get a clear shot at Victor. He raised his pistol and fired three consecutive charged shots at the monster.

The kinetic bullets made their mark, leaving cherry-sized holes in Victor’s head and leaving him to stagger backwards, but he merely cackled with amusement and stood back up upright with his wounds regenerating with ease. “Tell me, did you expect a different outcome from that? Here, I thought you’d be a bit more clever than that...”

Zep scowled and raised his palm at Victor for a different attack--

Then Zep felt his breath taken away. Stone swords had impaled him from the back. One into his left shoulder blade, and the other into his lower rib, hitting a vital organ. By reflex, he coughed out a considerable amount of blood from the blows as he felt himself unable to move now that the stone angels had their hands on him, restraining his arms to his back just before one of them kicked him in the back of his knee to get him down.

“How disappointingly green of you... Not that I should be surprised. I had you pinned for a naive child playing hero since the day you walked into this town. Hah... the spark of life in your eyes brimming with hope, looking for adventure...” Seeing Zep’s visible aura flicker and die out like a dimming flame, Victor walked a bit closer to Zep, kneeling down to meet the boy at eye level. The crimson dots in those abyssal eye sockets stared him up and down, particularly at the blood that was stained on the sword. “Ahh... what a lovely pigment your blood has... Don’t you worry, young Archagent... You’ll soon come to serve a better purpose.” Victor reached out, knowing that the moment he comes in contact with Zep’s blood was the moment he sealed his victory.

Suddenly, Zep looked up at Victor with a determined grin on his face. Little did the hemomancer know, the only reason his aura wasn’t visible now was because he had refocused his Psionic energy internally. Specifically, he concentrated it into a small orb in his chest that had been charging... like a bomb. 

And by the time Victor realized the trap with a look of dismay, it was too late.

Zep’s eyes widened as uttered to himself, “Repulse!”

It happened in an instant. A low humming sound followed by a telekinetic shockwave that tore the foundations of the church, shattering the windows, and effectively destroyed the two statues behind Zep while knocking Victor all the way to the back of the church’s wall.

Taking this chance to recover, Zep slowly got himself up and pulled the swords from his body. He gritted his teeth as the extraction was burning him up badly with immense pain. Once they were out, he quickly concentrated his energy to regenerate as he staggered back a bit.

Wait... but Victor...

Zep looked up and found that... Victor’s body was gone... He had escaped!

“Dammit!!!” he hissed as he quickly went over to look for any signs of a trail to follow. Ironically there wasn’t even a single trace of blood to be found...

#Archagent File: Story #tw: gore #tw: body horror

[archagentnexus]

Archagent Chronicles #2

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ITypyVvtw_H601KyQA9uflqECkRcXIGTnt5hAfGIeQA/edit?usp=sharing

#Archagent File: Story

[archagentnexus]

Archagent Scenes: . . .

He was only 5 years of age at the time. He didn't know any better. When he was brought down to the clinic by his father, Marcelis Zep, Nicholas asked many questions about the "visit to the doctor."

 Am I sick, Papa?... Why aren't we going to Dr. Bouville's?... I thought you told Mama we were going shopping? Each question was usually answered with his father's default hushing and a reassurance that this was going to be quick and that it would be best to be left up to his good judgement. 

 He found it strange the way the clinic looked. It was not at all like the one he usually went to. There weren't any large signs with friendly pictures nor colorful advertisement. And the building was isolated. No plaza, no other adjacent buildings to be found. The location was remote off in the countryside away from the city. What struck Nicholas in awe and fear were the fences and the militant men in uniform with rifles posted at the gates. These were not policemen. Policemen did not hide their faces behind bandanas and sunglasses, nor did they take pride in fashioning their guns with intimidation. 

 Nicholas’ father reassured him that they were a "special kind of police." And that if the boy had behaved, they would do no harm unto him. 

 This did little to quell Nicholas’ fears, but he nodded, placing the trust of a son to that of his father.

Inside, the room was white and sterile, resembling more like the clinics Nicholas had been familiar with. The secretary behind the desk greeted the two with a rehearsed smile as Nicholas’ father exchanged words with her that Nicholas couldn't comprehend at the time. The secretary looked at Nicholas and called in a nurse to lead him along to the next room for examination. 

  Nicholas didn't want to let go of his father's hand, but Marcelis forcefully removed that bond, holding the other's wrist and asking him to be calm... promising that he would be here by the time Nicholas was finished. 

 The examinations were similar in procedure. They weighed Nicholas , measured his pulse and height and reflexes, took a sample of his blood, but then they placed cold suctions on him with wires attached. He was asked to run on the treadmill, to climb bars, to breathe into a tube so that a ball could float. They measured things that were extremely excessive in the standard checkup, but were necessary in determining his value down to the square inch of his flesh and bone. 

 Nicholas was scared. He wanted to cry. He wanted his mother and father or something that was familiar to him again. He didn't like how these people looked at him. Their eyes were not at all the eyes of a concerned caring pediatrician, but that of a collector, an appraiser, a butcher determining the quality in a cut of meat. 

 When it was all finished, the pale dark-haired boy was led back to the lobby and seeing his father again, he cried out in tears and flung himself around the other's waist. The man didn't stir nor shake from this gesture. Coldly did his hand place itself on Nicholas’ head, feigning care as the men in white spoke to Marcelis giving him an estimate from the proceedings.There were murmurs of debate between the adults until the negotiations ended with a firm handshake and a signed checked deliver from the men in white to Nicholas’ father. A paper bracelet was wrapped around Nicholas’ wrist.

Then the entrance doors flung open. Nicholas’ mother, Miriam, rushed through yelling at her husband while guards apprehended her from behind. Watching his mother get threatened, Nicholas quickly ran to her and cried out, but with a swift jerking motion, his father backhanded him to the ground. 

 The mother cried, the father yelled, and Nicholas’ world went deaf as he looked around, disoriented and the last thing he saw as he was picked up and dragged by the men in white, was her mother's tears and his father's cold expression.

#Archagent File: Story #tw: abuse

[archagentnexus]

Archagent Scenes: Simon and Zep Talk

//To give context, Simon is the main and final antagonist of the series, and he and Zep are in the middle of a desert, having their final discussion before the final fight erupts between them.

Simon: Lovely day for a showdown, isn’t it?

Zep: ...

Simon: Ah, no, you’re right. It’s a bit too cloudy. The theatrical effect makes this all a bit too... obvious.

Zep: Simon-

*Simon raises an index finger at Zep to interrupt him.*

Simon: Wait... Don’t say anything. I need... a moment.

*The two wait for about a minute while Simon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s hard to tell if he’s savoring the moment or if it was something else. Simon lowers his hand and scoops up a bit of sand from the ground, rubbing them in between his fingertips.*

Simon: It’s like a dream, isn’t it? I can hardly believe that either of us could have made it this far to the end.

*He looks to Zep with a polite smile.

Simon: Ah, where are my manners. You want a seat? I could use the last bit of company before we have to... you know, do what we gotta do. We both have time, and who knows? Maybe you have a shot at talking me out of all of this.

*Simon grins and snaps his fingers. Two wooden chairs slowly materialize into existence between them. Simon takes his seat first. Zep sighs as he also takes his seat and leans forward a bit.*

Zep: More like a nightmare for some.

Simon: Hm?

Zep: You said earlier it was like a dream. But given everything that’s happened, what you did and all, a lot of people would wish they would wake up and not have to be in the situation they’re in now.

Simon: Aha... yes, well... if it wasn’t me, it would surely have been someone else that would inherit my role in this situation.

Zep: Do you honestly believe that?

Simon: Zep, are you familiar with the Hegelian dialectic?

Zep: I think I might have come across the term when I read your old notes.

Simon: Well, you should know that conflict in of itself is an inevitability. No matter who the players are, so long as history continues to progress and develop, blood will always be shed along the way in order to create something new.

*Zep scoffs a little*

Zep: So what, you think that because it’s “inevitable” that you don’t have a choice in the matter? That you’re not responsible for the lives you’ve taken on your quest for ascension, the return of the Primordials, and the end of mankind?

*Simon chuckles softly*

Simon: I never said I wasn’t responsible for my actions. I’m fully aware of the impact that my insignificant life has played in these events... but this was never a question about choices, Zep. 

Zep: Then why do any of this?

*Simon’s smile widens as he looks at Zep*

Simon: That’s the idea, isn’t it? You ask me why I’m doing this. And that’s the big question. Why? Why does human history always consist of the same cycle of conflict-conquer-revolt-resolution? Why do we value the things that are either abstract constructs or just materialistic junk? Why does the Universe exist or the Primordials for that matter?

*Simon stands up from his seat and takes several steps forward*

Simon: We ask ourselves these questions time and time again. It’s always on the back of our minds, but no one would ever go so far as to press the question to the absolute limits for an answer because they’ve decided it was easier to accept that this is the way it is... We ask for meaning, but no one has the courage to bear the pain of the truth that lies beyond the horizon. Everyone’s too worked up about living their reality that they haven’t realized that what they’ve created was a prison made up of hyperrealities.

Zep: Whoa, slow down there. I don’t speak pretentious bullshit. What the hell are you going on about?

*Simon stares into the darkened horizon*

Simon: This world... This universe... It no longer has any semblance of reality that anyone can perceive anymore. There’s no meaning to it. There’s just empty symbols after empty symbols. And history has shown time and time again that we’ve simulated the same conflict with different variables, but when thesis and antithesis collide, its resulting synthesis produces another empty world. Everyone is just experiencing their lives without actually living them. It’s hollow and empty and it begs the question... Where does “meaning” actually exist? Does it exist with the Primordials? The infinite abyss of their unconsciousness? Or is meaning in itself just... an empty symbol, waiting to be fulfilled by sheer human will?

Zep: ...So when you’ve asked yourself this question... you placed your chips with the Primordials, is that right?

*Simon turns around and smiles*

Simon: Just like how you’ve bet everything on humanity... It’s no different.

*Zep frowns, his eyes are filled with a kind of sadness when he comes to this revelation...*

Zep: Simon... what happened to you that made you give up on everything else?

*Simon chuckles, a sad smile encroaches on his expression*

Simon: Zep, believe me when I say that there was nothing you could have done to save me from where I stand now... But where I stand now, I haven’t completely lost my faith in humanity... not when a valid thesis of their worth stands before me right now. But like every other thesis...

*Simon’s black aura bursts forth like an incredible firestorm that pierces the sky. Zep gets up from his seat and his Psionic aura is brought up to shield himself from the shockwave.*

Simon:.. It must be tested with an antithesis... So show me, Nicholas Zep of the Archagents... Show me what the final synthesis will bring.

#Archagent File: Story

[archagentnexus]

Nick and Zep Meet God

//The following is just a little script drabble I wrote up involving the two halves of Nicholas Zep meeting God for the first time.

*Zep and Nick, after traversing through the Penumbra Asylum for a while, had felt worn out and were looking to be hopeless, when all of a sudden, they hear a voice call out to them.*

God: "I hate to butt in on this moment of existential crisis, but I think it's kinda ironic that you'd lose hope now in here. Where hope was once founded and built."

Nick: Gets startled and looks around. "Who said that???"

Zep: "I don't sense anything...!" Is also looking around for the source of the voice.

God: "Oh yea, I forget that it's easier to hold a conversation when you're addressing a corporeal being. Give me a second."

*A large purple ball appears before them. It glows as it speaks.*

God: "Behold my wonders!"

Nick: "Is... Is that a fucking ball?" Looks dismayed.

Zep: "A talking ball it looks like!" Looks amazed.

Nick: "Who the hell are you?"

God: "Wow, I mean... I know I've been absent for a while here fellas, but that's no reason to be hostile towards the guy you were raised to believe as the almighty." The ball laughs.

Zep: "Wait... You're... God?"

Nick: "Yea, and I'm fucking Santa Claus." Takes out a baton and charges it with Psionics.

Zep: "Wait, no, Nick!"

Nick: "Come on! You expect me to believe that this is God? The 'holier than thou' guy who is the beginning and the end? This is bullshit!"

God: "Would it help if I wasn't just a floating ball before you?"

Zep: "I... think it'd be more believable if you weren't."

God: "Sheesh, you're really making your old man work here... Alright, just know that I'm not as... well... my hands weren't like they used to back in the day so I'm probably not gonna be able to sculpt anything great." Is now an obscure figure with a faceless ball-shaped head, a rectangular box body, and cylinder feet and arms. "There we go!" He waddles around with his new feet.

Nick: "This has got to be a joke."

Zep: "No, Nick. I think he's serious. I... I can't explain it... but I can feel him. I'm connected to him..."

God: "Well they say the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree there kiddo so you're not wrong about the whole connection there."

Nick: "Okay, I'll bite. What the fuck happened to you? Where were you when we needed you out there? Do you have any idea what's been going on in the last like... 2000 years?"

God: "Listen, creating the Omniverse with all the different variations of life on different universe, alternate timelines, dimensitional layers, infinite spaces and all... I mean that doesn't just come out of nowhere. It came from me, and I'd appreciate it if you'd ease up off my back about it, you little shit." He towers over Nick in a way that makes it seem like his spherical head was glaring at him.

Nick looks stunned and tries not to make eye contact.

Zep: "Okay fair point,  but... how long have you been here? And it doesn't really explain why you disappeared one day. Leaving the Angels without a proper guide."

God: "Well technically speaking, I never left... You know how Psionics are made? The very energy itself was formed out of segmenting my very being. It was my final gift to Adam and mankind before my whole sense of self went kaput... Wasn't much I could do afterwards other than just let my Chancellor of Heaven, Metatron just follow my orders via script I wrote out for him."

Nick: "So you knew Michael would try to hijack the throne and cause this whole war?"

God: "Well... yes and no... it's complicated."

Zep: "Wait wait... hold up... you said Psionics are bascially made of... you... does that mean I'm God too?"

God: "Yes and no. Well... er... I would say in this case, you'd be Jesus. If Jesus were actually a real thing and not just some scam that Michael made up."

Zep: Looks at Nick with starry eyes. "Nick! I'm Jesus!"

Nick: Looks amazed for a moment. "Wait... but Zep and I are kinda in the same boat so am I Jesus too?"

God: "No, you'd be more of the Virgin Mary since Zep's birth required your body and all."

Nick: "WHAT?"

Zep goes into hysterical laughter.

Nick: "WHY DO I HAVE TO BE THE VIRGIN MARY!"

#Archagent File: Story

[archagentnexus]

Zep vs. Victor (Part 1)

How could I have been so stupid?! This entire time… the man responsible for all those deaths, he was within my reach the entire time!

Zep gritted his teeth and he stormed up the stone steps to the cathedral. He looked up to the sky, the clouds that had blanketed it had now been torn over the cathedral in a perfect circular hole, allowing just that glimmer of moonlight gazing down upon the wicked sanctuary.

With all of his strength, Zep leaped forward and, with the speed of lightning, hurled himself at the large wooden gates of the church. The hinges were blown off swiftly, the rotting wood splintered across the aisle before a robed man who stood on top of the church alter.

“Victor!” Zep’s voice echoed, his righteous fury resounding through the hallowed grounds.

Father Victor turn around slowly. The shroud of his hood still hid his countenance, yet his vicious smirk was very much visible. “Nicholas… my son. Have you come to confess your-”

Zep quickly materialized a pistol in his hand, charging it with his Psionics, and aiming at the monstrosity before him. “Don’t even…” snarled Zep. “Despite all you’ve done, I’m still obliged to offer you a surrender. I’d advise you to take it, but I’ll wait for you to reject that offer before I start shooting.”

Victor gave a soft chuckle. “How considerate.” The man removed his hood, revealing a shaven head, a pair of crimson eyes, and creased dotted indentations that circumferences his neck. Upon the disposal of his robes entirely, Zep’s eyes widened in horror of what Victor had done to his own body.

Victor’s chest, arms, and legs had been impaled by what seemed to be pipe valves that sunk themselves into his very muscles. It was like some twisted form of art and acupuncture. Patches of Victor’s skin were brown, most likely from dried blood, and the valves seem to move about whenever a muscle was being flexed or used.

“It’s beautiful, don’t you agree? You must be rather curious as to the why and how of this… so allow me to-”

Zep fired a shot right between Victor’s eyes. He was no fool. He could very well see the runic markings on each of those valves. Those are magical seals and activating them meant triggering something dangerous.

Victor’s body bent backwards after being shot. Blood had spewed from his forehead like a fountain… Until it stopped. And Victor’s body just rose back up and stood straight once more.

“Oh dear… you’ve gone and sprung a leak…” muttered the Hemomancer. Victor’s red eyes locked onto Zep and dilated. His toothy grin stretched from ear to ear, and, to Zep’s horror, the whites of his eyes melted from their sockets, until there was nothing but the dark abyss of his eye holes, and the two shining crimson circles that glowed within them.

“AAA HA HAHAHAHA!” Victor’s laugh held the chorus of thousands in it. His jaw unhinged, dropping itself open to allow the tongue to roll forth… and then

CHOMP

Blood spewed from his bitten tongue and gushed out in a flowing stream that twisted and coiled in the air like a serpent. The tip of the stream crystalized into a ruby spear and flung itself down upon Zep.

Zep quickly rolled off to the side, but the force of the spearhead was enough to create a shockwave, tossing Zep into a wall.

Victor quickly took advantage of the situation and began to twist at specific valves at his arm and his torso. The twisting caused his body to leak out impossible amounts of blood that flooded the floor and slithered up the walls into the angel statues that overlooked the church.

The curse blood gave them life and from their balconies, they flew into the air with their stone swords to serve their new blood god.

“You’ve got to be shitting me…” muttered Zep as he got up from the ground.

“Can you hear it, Zep? Just. Listen.” Victor closed his eyes and sighed contently. “The chorus of a hundred thousand hearts, beating in unison… Come, my son. Open your heart to the symphony of my perfection. Together, the love of humanity shall not pass unforgotten in this world, for we will mark the ground with our joined blood…. Unless you prefer a higher role than consensual submission, then be my guest. Your last scream shall serve as a good solo to the orchestra of the dead.”

#Archagent File: Story #tw: gore #tw: body horror