Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20161103020802/@comment-28358106-20161113051844

The raw energy begins its rampage unchecked. The green plasma fire begins to blaze on the upper story, spreading violently across the upper floor. The generator still holds some charge but now its energy goes unchecked, and green wisps of plasma glide gracefully across the equipment, setting everything it touches ablaze.

The Little Man panics as Emelia turns her attention to his control booth.

"Emelia, I am still your master!  I am - "

She arches  her back and roars. Charging across the open floor, she leaps up to the control tower, landing on its side with a crash. Spiderlike, she begins to climb it slowly as the flames around her intensify.

She stops in front of a little metal box with a window on it.

"EMELIA!  EMELIA, NO!  LISTEN TO ME!  I AM STILL YOUR MASTER!  I STILL..."

Emelia bends backwards slowly.

Screaming, she rams her forehead against the glass. Blood and saliva smear across it, running down the crack on its face. The Little Man screams. She leans back again.

CRASH. The crack gets bigger. And again.

CRASH. And bigger. Again.

CRASH. Big, like a spider web. Again.

CRASH.

She pulls her face from the shards of glass, peeling her skin. Slowly, she reaches through the shards, feels around. She pulls her arm back through. Parts of her skin are left on the glass. She pulls out William by the leg. Parts of him are left, too. But he doesn't stop shrieking.

He writhes, held up by her one hand as she deliberately climbs over to the generator. Gouts of green fire belch from its broken capacitor, its edges beginning to melt. She holds William back, and with blinding speed, slams him into it.

I do not remember the explosion.

I remember nothing, until I wake. I open my eyes, and she is standing above me.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The plasma fire has engulfed her body. Gobbets of melted flesh drip off of her, sizzling on the floor. I watch her face and hair melt down to the skull, a metallic, rusted abomination. As I watch, the flames eat her flesh and extinguish, and then grow back, like some horrible miracle. Her face regenerates from the cursed flesh, back into the gray, dead, living tissue. She regards me with an expression.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The flames behind her outline her silhouette. She reaches down. Huge, cold hands lift me as if I were a doll and set me on my feet.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">I can do nothing but look at her. A conscience now glows behind those eyes, trapped in a place between places. Saliva still runs down her face, her lungs pumping against a decomposed body. Her eyes say she is not in pain. She is in agony, in a rare moment between madness.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">I stand, speechless. She falls to her knees. She opens her mouth.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"PllleEeeEeAAAasssSee  kiiillllll  mmMmmMeEeEeEeEeeee..."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">What do I tell her? Do I tell her that I am a famous physician, A doctor of unparalleled skill, ready to do whatever it takes to heal her? That she will be fine, that I will care for her, and heal all her pain? That I will  undo the things that have been done to her, find her family, and return her?

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Some things cannot be undone. The words stop in my throat. I have to force them out.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"...I will try."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The flames are spreading rapidly. I look around. Acid won't work of she has noble metals in her, and it would be agonizing. I won't use magic, because it would cause pain, even briefly. Not only that, but I am drained, and I wouldn't be able to sustain something that could finish her. I won't draw out the process. I look at the vats, the dozens of vats. Then I see them. Two vats.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Liquid Sodium Hydroxide---Lye. In another, Hydrochloric Acid.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">I turn. I seal both doors with huge slabs of ice, making the first few floors airtight. I look at the two vats in the distance. I gesture, shattering them both, and a vat of water. I gesture again, bringing the liquids together. They explode, the white cloud billowing, filling the enormous room with carbon dioxide.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">I make a small, invisible ward around my head filled with self-renewing air. Slowly, I step towards Emelia. I pull her huge, misshapen head towards me, to my shoulder. She groans, her cold body shuddering. My words are pathetic.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"I'm sorry.  I was too late.  I'm so sorry.  It will be like going to sleep.  Like going to sleep..."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">I look up. Already the flames are beginning to be robbed of oxygen. I hold her head with my left arm. With my other, I take out my pocket watch. One minute.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The flames are flickering. Four minutes.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">They are almost gone. Her breathing is raspy, and she is wavering. Eight minutes.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The flames are gone. She is too heavy. I lay her down gently, watching the rising and falling of her chest. Her eyes roll up, then close. Twelve minutes.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">She is moving, but no air remains. Her chest raises one last time, then stops. Fifteen minutes.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">I put my watch away. My fingers find her hair, cold and wiry, belonging to another. I question what I would have done, how I might have turned out, if not for my father. I know the pursuit of knowledge, what it can lead to, what depths drive a man to discover what the mind is capable of, even this. Discovery is not its own moral compass, and I too remember that there was a time when I considered paths that were not meant for man. I look at the remains of the girl, and wonder where she came from. Perhaps I will find out, and visit her family. Perhaps that is all I can now do.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">I stand and wipe the tears from my face, and place my coat over her head as one last dignity. I step back.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">And again, I let my rage build. The air vibrates around me, a rumble issuing from under my feet. The stones begin to crack. The rumble intensifies, glassware rattling on the shelves. I place both palms down.

I release the shockwave. [<span style="color:rgb(0,102,33);font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:14px;font-weight:normal;white-space:nowrap;">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2CW6wshMGs]

<p style="font-weight:normal;">-

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Outside, crossing the thousand-yard long span to the Tower of Sages in the distance, Hound and Praetor see the flash, then hear the sound. They look up.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The bottom level of the tower is blasted outwards. A vibration rises from inside the tower, floor to floor, rising up and shattering glass and destroying stonework. Chemical vats immolate, bursting out into the air, hurling huge chunks of stone. The structure shudders and  leans, explosions rocking it as it collapses with the slow motion of the gargantuan. It topples away from them, smashing into the other bridge leading out to the rest of the castle. Green and blue chemical fireballs rise as the enormous cloud of dust and ash and fire roll outward and into the air, enveloping the remains of the tower with a roar. They almost don't see the tiny spark of familiar violet lightning as it bursts from the tower just before it collapses and lands far away on the ruined tip of their bridge...