(HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (Full Version)

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Twighlight Sky -> (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (7/31/2013 0:44:55)

Hello, and welcome to DaVinci Con 2013, my second attempt at a fanfiction! The discussion thread is located here!

I hope you enjoy!

Side note: the author's notes in the story are part of the story, from the perspective of the character Twi.

I have used a larger font for the story to make it easier to read (largely for my own benefit).

Note: I am currently on a break from writing this story, and shall likely continue to be for the next month or so, due to how busy I have been as of late. I do not intend to abandon this story, and look forward to sharing the ending with any/all readers. If you have any questions, you can PM me, and I'll try to get back to them as soon as possible. 10/24/13

Signature removed. Please refrain from using signatures in The Archive. -Faerdin




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (7/31/2013 0:47:44)

Author's Note: In my unique line of work, I have come across many evils in this world, and seen many dark atrocities committed. The shadows never relent, and none know this better than me. And every so often, they happen to find solace in the black hearts of man. I have seen beasts and disasters slay many, and hurt countless more, but I never cease to be amazed at how much more infinitely capable man is of executing far worse terrors. One such man is known by you as Luigi DaVinci. It is my solemn duty to relay these events, the events leading up to the deaths of Lizzie Stevens, and countless others, at the hands of this human monster. It is important that you know who he truly is, what this beast is capable of, and just how much danger this world faces with each passing second he survives.
~Twi~

“Lizzie, wake up!” yelled a voice. “The line's moving!”

“Ugh...what time is it?” she responded.

“It's 4:00 A.M., we need to get ready!”

Lizzie sat up. It took her a moment to remember where she was. Ah, that was it. Amy. It always came back to her, didn't it? Every month, there'd be some other thing she was obsessing over, some boy, or band, or South African fungus. Something. What was it Amy had dragged her off to see this time?

“DaVinci Con 2013!” Amy gasped, tentatively. “This is it! We're here!”

“Vinnie-what? I have no clue what you're talking about,” Lizzie responded. “What is it this time? Some Italian choir?”

“Oh, don't be silly! It's DaVinci Con! Devoted to the greatest, sexiest villain our city has ever seen!”

“Wait..what? Isn't that the guy who messed up everything at the Park a while back?”

Amy squealed. “His first victory! He's going to have very more soon though. OMG, we're almost here!”

Lizzie glanced around. Hundreds of young girls (and a few boys) were coalesced together in a loose, line-shaped conglomeration, trailing into the distance for an innumerable distance. All tired, all excited, all wearing attire devoted to one face. Some even dressed to imitate him. It was a fanfest, plain and simple, and one devoted to madman at that. Lizzie had never seen anything so terrifying, a standard that was fated to change continually that day.

Upon entering, Lizzie was handed a name-tag and a body bag. Her questioning gaze was met with an enthusiastic gasp of air from Amy, and so Lizzie decided to change the topic before Amy could utter whatever joyous rant she had prepared.

Before either one could say anything, however, they were both accosted by a large group of people wearing various t-shirts in support various organizations. Pins, toys, accessories, trading cards, sanitary towels, licensed laundry detergent, and more were all offered to the shocked girls. All manner of promotional memorabilia converged upon their location, all given to them for free. Fumbling under the weight of several dozen free issues of The Skulldeep Enquirer, Lizzie chose to follow Amy's example and shove it all in the body bag. If this comes to the worst, she thought, I can always just sell this junk online.

The first stop they made was to a collectable figure booth. “These are DaVinci Con exclusives!” Amy squealed as she forked over copious amounts of cash to the worn, glassy-eyed teenage cashier. “Isn't this exciting? I told you this was going to be amazing!”

Feeling pressured, Lizzie wasted a fairly large chunk of her savings on a DaVinci Bobble Head. It seemed to be extremely skilled at hurling itself to the darkest depths of the uncanny valley.

The next booth they visited was much smaller and less crowded, focusing on the promotion an upcoming romantic fan video centering upon DaVinci and Yergen. After being shown some concept art by one of the creators, Lizzie thought it best to vacate the area, catching only fragments of a plot development involving a love triangle with one of Demolicious' divas.

While Amy was checking out the booth for a popular webcomic, “DaVinci and Palls”, Lizzie finally decided to make her escape to the restroom to refresh herself after all the insanity she had experienced. Gasping for breath in front of the smooth surface of the bathroom mirror, she sighed, and tried to let go of all the stress that was plaguing her.

Cre-e-e-e-a-k.

Lizzie jumped, heart pumping wildly. With a shock, she realized that several of the stalls had been occupied the entire time. Emerging from one stall was an obese and hairy middle-aged woman, looking exceptionally bad for any age, wearing purple tights and sporting purple hair as part of what could only be described as the most terrifying Demolicious cosplay of all time.

Lizzie hurtled out of the bathroom, never once looking back...or ahead.

Without warning, she found herself hurtling towards the floor. The ground seemed to travel towards her slowly and calmly, at a nice, slow walking pace. Although she tried to brace herself for impact, one thing was certain. She was going to hit. Hard.

Impact. A throbbing from her left forearm and knees told her she had escaped hitting her head, but had not escaped friction burns. Lying on the ground in pain, Lizzie gasped for air for several long moments. It was then she realized that she was not the only one sprawled out on the floor... there was a man, as well.

He was dressed like many of the people in the room, but unlike most of them, his costume seemed to be far more realistic. His face looked more worn, as well, reminding Lizzie of the many hours she had tolerated suffering through Amy's rants about the transforming power of makeup. It vaguely occurred to her that she was the reason they were both now lying prone on the floor.

“Excuse me,” she said, preparing to hurry away. But it was too late: a mob of people were pressing in on all sides, murmuring, squealing, babbling, cheering...a cacophony of excitement.

“Oh MY GOD it's HIM!” one girl cried.

“What did he FEEL like?” screamed another.

“PLZ HAV MA BABIZ” crooned a third.

“Ciao, mia bella.” the man purred smoothly to Lizzie, despite the hollow, metallic undertone to his voice. “Are you, by any chance, lost?”

“I'm fine, I just need to find my way back to the 'DaVinci and Palls' booth. My friend is meeting me there. Why don't all these stupid people move, anyway?”

“Well, for one thing, let me introduce myself. My name is Luigi DaVinci. How have you been enjoying my convention?”




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (8/1/2013 20:53:44)

A pause fell upon the conversation, marked only by the collective gasps of surrounding fangirls. Lizzie's mind fell completely blank, struggling to digest what the hell was actually going on. Finally, she managed to pull a sentence from somewhere in the deeper recesses of her brain.

“Y-y-you're DaVinci?” she stammered.

“I am.” he proudly replied.

Lizzie paused. “I thought you'd be taller.”

“And I had hoped that you would be able to produce a less cliche response. Sadly, it seems we were both fated to be disappointed.”

Lizzie, however, wasn't finished. “And more attractive. Seriously, where did you get that outfit, it's awful. It looks like you belong at a roleplaying convention. You look like spare parts, not a terrifying villain mastermind. And what do you mean disappointed, I'd be happy to introduce that ugly face to my fist if you continue on that route!”

DaVinci leered close to her face, smirking slightly, before whispering in her ear, “I'd be happy to show you the real stuff of nightmares, mia bella.”

Lizzie shivered, the hum of DaVinci's machinery closing in, oppressive and cold, sucking away any humanity from the man's weary voice. His metallic tones chilled her to the very core of her being.

“I'll be seeing you very soon, my dear. I'm sure we'll both find it to be a very...stimulating experience.”

DaVinci turned and swept swiftly away, drifting along as though he was borne floor by the shadows themselves. As he departed, he yelled to the crowd, “I hope you all are going to stay for tonight. I have a big surprise planned, and I'm sure it will be very enjoyable.”

After the excited fan cheering eventually subsided, the crowd grew restless. Slowly, the fangirls went their separate ways; some, in pursuit DaVinci, others converging on Lizzie, a million questions in their heads.

“Omigod, I'm sooooo jealous!”

“What did he say? Is he planning something evil?”

“Did he kiss you? Are you his girlfriend?”

“He doesn't love you, okay? It's me who he's meant for, not you!”

As Lizzie fended off the rabid fan attacks, she stumbled across the exhibit hall, desperately trying to find her way back to Amy through the sea of people.

They kept coming, closing in tighter and tighter around her. She could hardly see, hardly tell what way was up. Pushing her way past an ensemble of killbot cosplayers, she tripped over someone's foot and fell to the ground, feet trampling past her. Lizzie tried to scream, but the breath was knocked out of her when someone stepped on her chest. Vaguely, Lizzie thought she heard a male voice calling her name as she began to lose her grip on reality. The shadows closed in on her, and she fell to their embrace.




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (8/1/2013 21:43:53)

Author's note: I am ashamed to admit my involvement in this dreadful catastrophe. Over the years, I have killed, yes, and carried forth the souls of countless more to the next realm. Working alongside Death is anything but a pleasant experience, but even then, evil has standards. I stooped lower than I ever have in this mess, and perhaps if I had not been present, many more lives may have been saved.
~Twi~


Earlier:
Amy sat against a wall, flicking through her new comic. In her superior opinion, it was a fine one, and she particularly enjoyed its insight on DaVinci's character. She was rather disappointed by the overabundance of clothes thus far, but she had decided to keep reading and see where the story lead. As she approached the end of the first issue, a armored hand reached out in front of the page, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Are you by any chance Ms. Amelia Johnson?” the figure attached to the hand inquired.

He (Amy assumed it was a he, anyway) had short, brown hair, ringing a face mostly covered by a mask over his mouth and dark sunglasses. He was well armored in a dark, shadowy costume with bright, colorful accents, and behind him, large black wings arched into the air. The eyes behind his glasses appeared pale and empty. Amy found the whole thing rather attractive.

“Hi, um... *cough* ...wait... you know my name?” she mumbled, confused.

“It was right here on my list. It looks like a busy day for me, unfortunately. Not sure if that's better or worse than an empty one. My name's Twi, by the way.”

“Twi? Haven't I...oh, that's right, villain Twi?”

“Yes.”

“The one who was in that one shadowy war thing a while back?”

“Yes.”

This Twi?”

“Ye- wait what?”

Amy held up her comic, open to the page she had left off at. Featured on it was an extremely disturbing artwork featuring DaVinci and someone who looked extremely similar to Twi himself. He instantly had an urge to burn the image from his retinas forever, and strained to avoid doing just that.

After a few quiet moments, he replied, “I sincerely hope not.”

Amy swooned. “You're a villain, yeah? Do you know DaVinci? He's really cool. Can you introduce us? Will you marry me? What's he like, anyway? You know, DaVinci? Is he really evil and hot?”

Twi coughed. “I'll just ignore that last bit. Anyway, I came here to ask, have you seen a girl named Lizzie Stevens? She was on my list next to you, and I need to speak to her.”

“Oh, she just went off to the bathroom, she...oh...you work with Death, right? Does that mean I'm going to die?”

“Of course you will, everyone does. Now shut up and stop asking for spoilers. How long ago did she leave?”

“I-”

“Silently, please, I've heard enough babble today. Hold up your fingers. How many minutes?”

Amy lifted both hands, all of her fingers in the air. She grew confused for a second, and then held up her foot as well.

“Fifteen minutes. Excellent. Have a pleasant day, ignore the conversation we just had, and by the way, please, for the love of God, burn that infernal book of yours.”

Before Amy could respond, Twi had hurried away into the crowd.

As he went, he noticed an obnoxious beeping and buzzing coming from his pocket. What does that mean, again? he thought, digging through his extensive memories. Ah, right. Phone. I really hate this century.




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (8/9/2013 19:20:36)

Lizzie Stevens felt very cold.

It wasn't just a lying-exposed-while-buried-in-the-snow cold. It was a chill that sliced, a chill that cut its way straight to her very core, to the marrow of her bones. Every cell of her body felt chilled, frozen, and prepared for storage, like a rack of steaks in the frozen meat isle at the supermarket.

The pain in her chest didn't help either. She felt as though she had just been trampled half to death. As the cold closed in, though, that didn't really seem to matter. With the last vestige of warmth leaving her, she began to feel strangely comfortable, a knowing sense telling her that the end had come. Sleep enveloped her mind, body, and soul, a fog that pervaded every crevice, every pore, to which she could do naught but surrender.




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (8/14/2013 0:17:00)

Shadows. Shadows and debris. Yes, those seemed appropriately gloomy.

The pink plastic pony, however, did not.

The cold had faded somewhat, Lizzie noted. Looking around at her surroundings, she was pleased to find that she was definitely somewhere, nothing close to the oblivion she had expected of death.

Death. The word still carried a chill in her mind. Logically, it made sense to her. She had been trampled to death by a horde of fans. It fit much better than any other idea she could think of. As far as she could tell, though, if this was the afterlife, it didn't feel too different from the life which preceded it.

And through that train of thought, she was inevitably brought back to the pink plastic pony.

"Ah, hello. I see you're finally awake."

Lizzie jumped. A man was standing behind her. He quickly glanced to the pony before stepping in between it and her, looking rather sheepish.

"Don't worry, you're not dead. You would have been in a minute or two, though."

"Who are you? What is this place?"

"Oh, sorry, my apologies. My name is Twi. Welcome to Deathitude. I wouldn't normally have bothered, but I seem to need your help."




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (8/14/2013 0:32:35)

"My help? Why me?" Lizzie gasped, cliche movie plots running through her mind.

"Ah, yes, well... it's a sort of thing. It's complicated," Twi shrugged.

"Complicated how?"

"Well, it's sort of like one of those 'chosen one' plots you people seem to be so strangely fond of. Surprising how frequently those happen."

Lizzie stared. "'Chosen one'? You mean I have some destiny or something?"

"Oh, no, don't be silly," Twi laughed. "It's not you who it's about."

"Who? Why do you need me?"

"Well, you see...it's about that friend of yours. Ms. Johnson. Amy, I believe you call her."

"Amy? What about her?"

"Yeah, um...she's sort of in danger. And dangerous."

"In danger to what, you? You're evil, aren't you? Doesn't that make danger to you a good thing?"

Twi scoffed. "Oh, don't be so mundane. Labels you people insist on, it's pitiful."

"And what's that in English, then?" Lizzie retorted.

"I'm sorry?"

"You make no sense. What about Amy, and why should I care?"

Twi paused dramatically, with the air of some great plot twist about to be unveiled. "Well, you see...she's sort of a 'chosen one'. And she may very well destroy your world."




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (8/18/2013 19:04:23)

Lizzie stood still for a few moments, shocked at the news she had heard.

"Amy?"

"Yes, Amy." Twi replied.

"You've got to be joking."

"Why would I joke about this?"

Lizzie sighed. "This is Amy we're talking about, yeah? My friend, Amy?"

"Yeah..."

"The nutso fangirl?"

"Yep."

"The girl who likes to read stories about-"

"I saw some of that," Twi interjected. "Can we please not discuss it? I'm still struggling to forget that obscenity."

"Good plan," Lizzie agreed.

A few more silent moments passed, conversation swallowed up by the empty void of nothingness.

Conversationally, she finally continued, "so, what exactly is Amy chosen for?"

"I already told you. Destroying stuff," Twi snapped. "Don't you ever listen?"

"You're really rude."

"You're quite a pain as well."

After a beat, Lizzie decided to move on to a new topic. "So, if she's chosen, doesn't that mean there's some guy who chooses?"

"Yes."

"You're being annoyingly vague again."

"Good."

Silence fell again, swiftly and mercilessly.

Finally, Twi decided to expand upon his response. "DaVinci chose her. I would have thought that much was obvious."




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (8/24/2013 15:26:53)

Amy had collapsed in a nearby booth, run by an affable shopkeeper who was selling Park War memorabilia.

"Now, dear, do you need anything?" the shopkeeper had asked her. She remembered that.

"It hurts so much..." That was her response, right? Amy wasn't sure.

Look at them. None of them truly believe.

Amy shook her head. She'd been having headaches for the past hour, a pain like a heated chainsaw slicing slowly through her skull.

"Dearie, are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?"

Amy had merely groaned in response. Something was very wrong. She fell forwards in another fit of pain.

You have to stop them.


Amy shivered. Am I going insane? she wondered as another wave of heat and pain assaulted her skull.

Kill them. Kill them all.

Insane was right, then. Or was it? Amy didn't think she really knew any more. It was all so simple, so pure. The lie. The truth. What was it?

They were false. She had to kill them. She had to purify. No-

She had to kill them.

Awake. Asleep. She didn't know.

Amy fell in the corner of the empty booth and cried. As she wiped her face with her hand, a warm residue rubbed off, red and sticky.

Startled, she dropped her hand to her side, hitting something hard. A gaping hole in a round sphere, wide white orbs, all torn and frayed...

With a squeal, she realized that the corpse of the booth shopkeeper was staring blindly up at her.

"Ah, mia bella," said the man leering behind her, stroking her hair. "I see you've finally woken up. If you'd please hurry, dear, we have a crowd to slaughter."




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (9/10/2013 22:43:02)

Author's Note: Everything crumbled too quickly for me to ever realize just how far gone hope was.

Amy stuffed the man into the sack. He was another dead one, and still none of them seemed to appreciate her help. She showed them the light, and yet, for some reason, they all only felt terror.

Their loss.

At least the body bags were coming in handy.

Dragging the bags into the presentation hall was a bit harder. The hall was empty of the living, for now, but she had to prepare it for that evening. DaVinci had something special planned, she knew, and they all needed to be in place. He was backstage at the moment, preparing in his own way. Amy couldn't wait to find out what surprises he had in store.

Killing them got much easier, too. The blood just looked like part of a particularly violent cosplay on her, and in the environment of the convention, nobody gave her a second glance.

Some of them wanted pictures with her, though. She later repaid them in private the only way she knew how.

This, of course, meant more blood.

It was a simple process. Pure. Revitalizing. Amy felt closer to her roots, a permanent meaning in her transient life. She felt fulfilled.

If nothing else, this, she knew, was right.

It was what she was made for.




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (9/10/2013 22:52:00)

Lizzie, meanwhile, was still in shock at a completely different horror.

Nearly dying, she could handle.

A strange shadowy realm? Sure.

A pony? Why not.

Her friend as some sort of world destroyer? Maybe not...

"What do you mean, DaVinci chose her? How exactly..." Lizzie trailed off.

"It's a sort of ritual," Twi replied. "He's been planning this for a while."

"Planning what?"

Twi turned on his heel angrily, but his expression soon turned to one of mad enthusiasm, a grisly grin and wide eyes. Amy shivered. He had seemed strange, yes, but his maniacal, malicious joy was something else.

"Fine, you want exposition? I'll exposit...is that a word?...should be, anyway. I'd better go look it up. Must put that on the end of that list after that thing, yes, what was it again..."

Lizzie interjected quickly, before Twi could wander off of the conversation again. "Less blabber, more story."




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (9/11/2013 23:25:42)

Twi breathed deeply, and began. "Well, DaVinci's been sort of obsessed with reversing death for a while now. He wants to bring his brother back to life. Sounds nice, but really isn't. He just wants his brother to worship him. And as always, messing with the dead is nasty business.

You probably remember that incident at the park a while back. I believe you've mentioned it, anyway. He was stealing the Pandoran Malachite, and that caused a war to erupt.

It was a lovely war, by the way. However, I regret to say I assisted DaVinci. He seemed so convincing at the time..."

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Lizzie inquired waspishly.

"You really think that someone like him would only settle for one scheme? He's been planning hundreds of ways to reach the same goal: reviving the dead. One of them began many years ago, and also, regrettably, with my aid...

I seem to be making a habit of that. Foolish thing to do."

"You helped him? What kind of idiot are you?"

"A beautiful one with a charismatic smile. Anyway, as I was saying, DaVinci has long been trying various ways of reversing death. Even before his brother died (funny, story, by the way...), DaVinci was obsessed. I happened to sort of owe him at the time (did I mention it was a funny story?), so I sort of told him a way.

"There was no way I thought he could actually pull it off, though."

"Pull what off?"

"I taught him a ritual. He would choose a child to be his champion, a warrior of blood and terror made only to destroy. Your friend Amy--"

"Amy!" Lizzie cried in horror.

Twi frowned at her, a well-what-did-you-expect sort of expression. You know, the quizzical, slightly sarcastic one. Of course, it wasn't very well carried with a mask over his mouth and sunglasses over his eyes, but he managed to give the general impression well enough.

"Yeah, but the ritual's much more complicated than that. It's got the main incantation, a humongous ritual sacrifice of the devoted, a few Scottish monks chanting... I don't even know why I'm bothering to try to stop him. It's not like he can find that many loyal followers to sacrifice..."

"Twi." Lizzie said.

"Yes? Kind of expositing here. Pity that still isn't a word..." he trailed off again.

"The convention."

"What convention? Oh, DaVinci Con? Yeah, Amy's probably still there. No big deal, worst she can do is aimlessly kill people..."

"The sacrifice of loyal followers, yeah? Where else would they get them?"

"Yeah, but it's not like...oh. I see.

I suppose we have a bit of a problem, then, don't we?" Twi grinned a wide, toothy smile, viscous as a predator in for the kill.




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (9/12/2013 0:00:54)

Walking down the isle of the presentation hall, Edward once again questioned his decision. Leaving the monastery was a bad one, yes. He'd come to that conclusion years back. Devotion was never an easy thing for him, and he just couldn't take the strain anymore. He'd left in the night, and since then wondered whether it was worth it. One thing he knew for certain, though: life was pretty bloody awful now.

He hoped once again that the metal man would pay him properly. The last time he'd taken one of these odd jobs, he'd been payed in some very illicit materials. Those were some very questionable substances, but then again, he was in a very questionable career. The substances wore valuable, but selling them was much less than simple. It had been a very narrow escape from the police when he'd tried to profit from that.

The metal man had promised a good amount, though, good enough to be worth doing. The work itself wasn't that bad, just doing a little ominous chanting before a crowd. Yes, that was worth it, right?

The bags on the ground seemed to differ.

He hadn't actually bothered to check what was inside. He'd learned not to ask questions on these things long ago. No, it was a simple job for him. He'd do as he was asked, and then demand his pay, hopefully in a useable currency this time.

That was before he saw the mad girl, though. She had a feral look in her young eyes, dragging along a corpse... Or at least it looked like a corpse, but Edward didn't want to ask to be sure.

Dried blood coated her face, forearms, and shirt, trickling across the picture of the metal man placed proudly over her chest. What is this, he wondered, some sort of cult?

Even this was not enough to sway him from the job, though. Sometimes, it really was best not to know. Questioning got good people killed, and Edward had decided he wasn't ready to discover the afterlife yet. The money beckoned to him, and he knew he would have to proceed, madwomen, stiffs or otherwise.

If I look back, he thought, I am lost.

Unfortunately, he did get the allusion. If he had, it might have foreshadowed just how mad his future would be. Sure, maybe not quite full civil war, dragons, a dead husband, and a long winter, but still pretty mad. All he knew, however, was that he needed the money, and that this job would get him some. It was a pity he so frequently had to turn to criminal activity, but he just didn't have other options.

After all, what kind of work could a Scottish ex-monk find?




Twighlight Sky -> RE: (HS) DaVinci Con 2013 (9/21/2013 22:43:56)

The skies over the city grew increasingly grim in the dimming light of the fleeing sun, a shimmering yellow orb of hope deserting the land for more hopeful territory westward. The shadows stretched grotesquely, etching across the ground, devouring all the city hungrily, like a swarm of fat, black rats. The streetlights began to illuminate the alleys and bars, nightlife crawling out of the walls and beginning the cycle of clubs and secrecy. The night held its secrets well, but tonight was more special than most. Even the lights of the nocturnal vermin failed to chase away the swarm of shadow, instead weekly beaming through the descending fog. The world of the living died with the setting sun, and all that remained now was a necropolis, headed by the unusually large population of villains and monsters.

Tonight, though, one villain was to emerge victorious over all the others. The night he had been planning was at last at hand, the ripe moment ready for plucking from the sinewy vine. Tonight, he would do the impossible. Tonight, even death itself would recede before the darkness he would bring. Tonight, they were all in place: the shadow, the devoted, the child, the monk... all of them would bear witness to his ascension to beyond the bounds of men. No more would he just be a man blessed with skill--- tonight he would be a god. A cruel, malicious god ready to bend all to his insatiable will. His brother would be only the first... he had greater plans than any could ever hope to understand.

DaVinci walked the isles, a god in the making, watching over the corpses of those who had been faithful to him, lined in neat rows. He reveled in the knowledge of what darkness was still to come, waves of unequaled ecstasy flowing through his mind and body. It was almost time, and then he would get all the power he deserved.

He looked on all this, and he saw... he saw that it was good.




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