Myrmidon_'s forum posts
Myrmidon simply followed Ishin and Shiho into the crowd of Keijijo and stood, arms folded behind of his back as the former and current Impero ushered their words and condemned Milo. The Vespa Viper was not Keijijo, and he had no business speaking. Instead his stride was emotionless as he followed Ishin into his personal tent, and awaited whatever tactical talk would follow.
The icy grey sky looming above the Monastery restlessly rumbled as though the God’s were looking down upon the events, knowing what was about to come. The thick, heavily blackened clouds were dragged down by the rain wanting to escape, and the clouds which struggled to withstand the burden of the weight which the rain held, soon gave in like a yielding foe.
The rain poured down over the Monastery as Myrmidon walked inside, drenching his newly attired outfit as a crowd gathered during the arrival of Shiho and Ishin. Murmurs, whispers, everybody wanting to know why the fabled Arcani legend was gently clasping the ruined body of Alianette, and the sound of emptiness was disrupted by the loud, gregarious boom of thunder roaring overhead. “My condolences.” They were simple yet meaningful words.
Myrmidon had been the executioner for millions upon millions of deaths in his lifetime. He had turned fathers and mothers into mourning parents and brothers and sisters into only children. Wives into widows; and entire bloodlines into nothing -- but still, the Grandmaster of the Arcani, gave his sincerest sympathies. Alianette had been the only Keijijo to have treated him with genuine respect. He had taught her the ways of the Metal Yoso and in return she had given him vials from the Chi-Springs. A simple transaction; but a bridge had been made that day. A bridge, which Milo Archer had destroyed and burned down when he had raped and murdered the Daughter of Ishin.
The Arcani Immortal simply shift his ancient gaze from the mentally anguished White Lotus and instead towards the Arcani Apogee, Impero Shiho. It was like looking at himself. She was stoic not of her own accord, but through her atrocious childhood. Myrmidon had found Satomi, the girls sister in New York, and forced himself into her mind, a mind, which was unable to resist, and had easily surrendered numerous memories of the Shiho and her family, but interestingly enough, the way they were so vehemently torn apart.
It had made him sad.
Satomi was then telepathically altered to recollect nothing of the mental incursion. Myrmidon had retained everything, and through being an Immortal on the Court of Arcani since Amaranth’s capture, he had acquired as much information on Impero Shiho as possible. Her stoic gaze verified his thoughts, the Arcani Impero was supremely under the influence of the past Impero Ishin. If he was to ever cultivate any type of rapport with the Arcani Apogee, or as Satomi called her, the Super Hero Sister, he would need to assist Ishin. And so he spoke, a single fist was raised into the air as it glowed ebullient orange, burning the water as it cascaded down. “I will help.” In a moment, a single, defining moment, the strongest trio of warriors the world had ever seen has just been assembled.