Daemon awoke from his hay pile in the corner of the room the guild called a ‘bed’ as he scanned his surroundings, grabbing for his glasses. Cedric and Lyra could be seen standing in front of the mirror as they were going about their morning routine, caught in idle chatter. Daemon got to his feet and walked up to them.
“Morning, guys.” He greeted the two.
Typically, Lyra gave Daemon an unenthusiastic side eye, refusing to further acknowledge his presence. Cedric on the other hand smiled as he trotted over to meet him.
“Good morning to you too, lad. Listen, I've got some great news, looks like you've personally been asked for by a contractor!” Cedric exclaimed.
“Uh, great, but why me specifically?” Daemon asked.
“That's the question on everyone's mind…” Lyra muttered.
“Ignore her, it's not every day a contract asks for someone from our guild by name. Feel proud, you seem to be making an impact.” Cedric said, brushing off Lyra's snark.
Daemon nodded and began making his way towards the lobby. Halfway down the hall, the voice of Myron could be heard.
“Hold it, I need a word with you.” He called out to Daemon.
Daemon turned around to see the Meinshao, his eyes dull and baggy and the shine that covered his fur faded.
“Jeez, what happened to you?” Daemon couldn't help but informally ask the guildmaster, noting his tired, disheveled appearance.
“That is what I wish to speak to you about,” Myron began, placing a paw on Daemon's shoulder. “I fear that machine you brought into the guild nay end up doing more harm than good. Since you've started messing with it, I've been hearing these… voices. They talk about that machine, how dangerous it is, the destruction it will bring to all of us.”
Daemon stared at Myron as he spouted off his message. “And these voices, are they implying we… destroy it-”
“No! You must not destroy it!” Myron yelled. Covering his mouth with wide eyes, he looked around as if the action was involuntary.
“You need to… You need to get it away from the guild, at the very least.” Nox explained, a paw against his temples.
“What did you have in mind?” Daemon asked.
“The contractor who sought you out specifically, If they're asking for you by name, which indicates that they know you, and may be able to assist in this predicament.” Myron explained.
“How do you know they'll be able to help?” Daemon inquired.
From the long sash of fur on his paws, Myron produced an open envelope decorated with a wax seal. “I… took the liberty of reading the contract beforehand.”
Daemon took the envelope, his face shock at what was written, or rather, typed. The ‘contract’ consisted of a neat, simple type font, which could only be produced by the device far beyond this current world's technology.
It read as follows: “Daemon. You don't know me, but you will in time. The moment you touched the Crucible, I knew the beginning if the end was approaching fast. Bring the Crucible to the outskirts of Red Valley’s forest, I will explain everything once you arrive.”
Daemon took note of the signature at the bottom, a code reading ‘002WR-ANGL’.
"Bring this ‘Crucible’ to them, see what they know about it… report your findings to me when you return.” Myron ordered as he walked back to his office.
Daemon sighed, hesitant to put trust in a stranger on a whim and prayer. On the flipside, this has been the first person to have any knowledge on him prior to any introduction. Walking out the guildhall, Daemon went to the observatory to grab the device the contractor claimed to be the ‘Crucible’.
Up on the second floor Kazmine had been examining the machine, which was active and pulsing once more with light.
“Hey, Kazmine, I need that-” Daemon's words were cut off as a figure from out of his line of sight tackled him to the ground with a thud. Daemon crooked his head to see the same Poochyena Daemon saw receiving acupuncture from Kazmine.
“Hm, new scent, not sure if friend or foe.” The grey canine growled as he spoke in that same, broken speech pattern. Kazmine whipped her head around to see him standing on top of Daemon, pinning him to the floor..
“Juno! Get off of him, he’s a friend!” She scolded the pooch, shooing him away.
Daemon got up from the floor and dusted himself off as he watched Juno slink back into his little corner of the room.
“Thanks for that.” He thanked the Umbreon. “Now then, I need that device.” He pointed to the Crucible.
“But, we're still running tests on it, aren't we?” Kazmine inquired.
Walking up to the table, Daemon picked up the device, giving the pulsing lens a brief, curious glance before placing it in his satchel.
“We were, however, Myron brought something to my attention, we may have just been contacted by someone who knows what this is.” He explained.
“Is Adalia or any of the other members tagging along?” Kazmine asked Daemon as he proceeded to the stairs. “You recall what happened yesterday, don't you? What if they come back with reinforcement?”
“Metal people hurt friend of Kazmine, Juno hurt metal people.” Juno barked with a low growl.
“It's not going to come to that.” Daemon chuckled. “I appreciate the concern though.”
With a wave and a reassuring smile, Daemon made his way out of the observatory and down the mountain path.
Walking through Valley town, the Crucible began to whirr as a green rift of electricity appeared over the forest to the south, spitting out a smoking mass into the trees below. Daemon stopped and stared alongside the villagers as a ringing began to manifest in his ears.
“Daemon, I've arrived. Are you here yet?” A voice asked, catching Daemon off guard.
He looked around the street for the speaker. “Hello? Who is that?” He called out.
“I'm inside your head, you numbskull. You don't need to speak aloud to talk to me.” The synthetic feminine voice spoke in a teasing tone.
Daemon took a deep breath as he focused inwards to voice his thoughts.
"H-hello?” Daemon spoke from within his head.
“Hello.” The voice greeted back. “Now then, get here quick. The Egrecorps is on my trail and they’ll eventually know I’ve gone rogue.”
Daemon, confused, complied regardless as he picked up the pace, running and squeezing past the townsfolk in his way.
“What do you mean, what's an ‘Egrecorps’? And if you're speaking to me, why not explain things now?” Daemon asked.
“I would, Daemon, but trust me, it’ll be easier to understand once we meet.” The voice responded.
Running through the woods, smoke wafted through the air as the passing trees became progressively more scorched and splintered. A rut in the ground scarred the ground leading west towards a large smoldering crater; within it, a tall mechanical figure could be seen rising out of it. They were clad in black armor outlined in a glowing blue light. Their angled shoulder plates heaved as they climbed from the crater, its pointed ears pricking up at Daemon's approach. Turning around to face the noise, its produced a handgun from a compartment in its thigh.
Daemon reeled back, the eye hidden in his folded ear charging with psychic energy. The narrowed eyes of the mech's visor appeared to soften, lowering the firearm back to its side.
“Sorry about that, can't be too careful, you know.” The mech spoke in the synthetic voice of the stranger.
Daemon faltered in his defensive stance, his eyes full of confusion as he questioned the figure in front of him.
“Th-that voice… that was you?” He stuttered, scanning the stature of the mech from head to toe.
The mech looked down at its own form, looking as if it just now realized just how intimidating it would look to an outsider.
“Right, of course… Here, maybe a… proper introduction is in order.” They spoke as the chest of the mech opened up revealing a glowing core. The core shimmered with teal colored energy that flowed through connecting wires, gears and other small mechanical parts spinning around it. A being of pure light emerged from the glowing core, slowly fading in brightness to reveal their true form.
The figure floated before Daemon, abstract in its appearance, standing at about 2’5ft. Their body was shaped like an upside down teardrop, the ‘skin’ black in color with a thick blue line across the circumference. Their limbs were composed of long diamond shaped crystals, forming the imitation of a bird's wings and tail feathers, each shimmering with various colors. Their head, much like their wings, floated detached from their body, round and oval shaped, a spike jutting from the top of it. A simple blue triangular shape comprised their mouth, similar to that of a beak. Flanking the beak were two large, round, expressionless, yet somehow still feminine eyes on the sides of their head, the pupils hollow circles, blinking like the aperture of a camera lens. Atop it all was a gleaming halo of light shining above them, giving them the aura of a mysterious yet benevolent angel.
Daemon stood, eyes wide in awe. Something about their abstract, alien design captivated him, his mouth agape, unable to put words to their strange beauty.
“You can stop staring now.” The figure giggled. “I am an ‘Electricity-based Soul Yielding System’, but you can just call me ‘Elec-Sys’ for short.”
They flew over to Daemon, crystal wing outstretched. “Now then… the Crucible, please.
Daemon shook his head as he came back to his senses, stepping away from the approaching figure. “Hang on… what do you plan on doing with this?” Daemon asked, clutching the satchel.
“Listen, I need you to trust me on this, the Egrecorps could be here at any-” The abstract figure’s words were interrupted by a flash of green from the sky as they looked up in shock. “...Daemon, they're here…”
The figure swiftly flew back into the mech as it powered back to life, rushing towards Daemon, scooping him up and tossing him into the air before he could say a word, snatching the Crucible and affixing it to its back. The mech's chest opened once more, sending out a beam of light towards the descending hybrid, enveloping him as it sucked his being into the core.
Daemon opened his eyes to darkness, a deafening silence falling upon his ears.
Where… where am I? He thought as he looked around the void of inky blackness.
“//: New user detected. Pilot identified as Daemon Voltaire, UID: K1038-B2. //: Transferring controls now.” Boomed a robotic voice from the darkness. A grid of light manifested beneath him, cutting a path through the void. Without much option, he followed the path, at the end, a holographic circle manifested upon the ground. Hesitantly, Daemon stepped onto the glowing circle, a console with flanking keypads appearing in front of him, several monitors floating on his left and right. The whole setting felt completely alien to Daemon, yet somehow… familiar.
“//: Pilot detected, please assume control now.” The voice ordered, as a prompt popped on the central monitor.
Daemon pressed enter on the keypad to accept the prompt, the console disappearing aa holographic rings formed around his arms and legs, a visor overtaking his eyes and the endless void before him suddenly transformed into the forest of the Red Valley. Confused, Daemon looked down, shocked to find his body replaced with that of the mech.
“//: Pilot authorization complete,” The voice finished,
“Huh, Pilot? What do you mean?” He spoke aloud.
“It means you are now in control of EGC-UC002, A.k.a War Angel,” Spoke the voice of Elec-Sys, who manifested as two glowing beady eyes appeared in the corner of Daemon's vision.
Her sudden appearance made Daemon jump back in surprise, the movement accidentally signaling the mech’s thrusters to activate. Within a split second, the mech was sent flying through the air, past the scorched trees of the forest. Despite not moving an inch, Daemon could feel the force of the wind as if it were he himself was the one rocketing forwards.
“What the hell is going on? How do I stop this thing!?” He yelled with fear in the pit of his stomach, feeling as though the force being applied to him would knock him backwards at any second.
“Relax, Daemon.” Elec-Sys calmly replied, “Clear your mind. The controls won’t cooperate unless you remain calm.”
Daemon clenched his eyes and took a long, deep breath, the force of the wind subsiding as he did so. Opening one eye, he noticed the mech’s blind rush had slowed to crawl.
“Good. Now focus your thoughts on the controls.” Elec-Sys continued.
Daemon couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her statement. “What, like if I just think ‘forwards’, it’ll magically just-” Before he could finish his joke remark, he noticed the mech slowly begin to move forward again. “My god, you were serious.” He muttered with a blank expression.
“Congrats, you got it.” Elec-Sys proclaimed with a giggle. “Now then, we need to step on the gas and get back to Valley Town. They and Wanderlust are in danger and we need to get there ASAP.”
Daemon nodded and took another deep breath as the mech swiftly picked up speed towards town.
The front entrance to the guildhall appeared to have been kicked open, the hinges nearly detached from the splintered door frame. The entrance hall was relatively untouched, save for the toppled chair and papers scattered along the floor, making a trail to the stairwell. The stairwell itself did not fare much better, bullet holes riddled the walls and cracked portraits that had fallen from their original position, Descending the stairs to the lobby, the signs of struggle became even more prominent, bullet holes too littered the walls of this room, alongside small stains of blood which seemed to form a path only to stop abruptly.
Elec-Sys scanned the blood through Daemon's visor. “Blood from a Pokémon… Zoroark in origin…” She spoke in a somber tone. “...Daemon, if what I'm reading is correct, then that could mean-”
Daemon spoke over her. “They've got to be around here somewhere. We need to keep looking.”
Heading down the hallway leading to the bedrooms, Daemon heard the crash of a large object, followed by distressed and frantic screams coming from the guildmaster's office. Breaking through the office’s door, Daemon was met with the sight of a large figure silhouetted within the dimly lit room, their back turned to him. Grasped in the silhouette's hand, barely illuminated by the faint reddish pink light, was Milo, held aloft by the clawed digits that clasped around his throat.
“...This does not concern you, boy. Stay out of this.” The silhouette spoke whilst tightening their grip over Milo, their voice oddly familiar, despite the heavy modulation.
“M-Myron?” Daemon stood in complete shock. “What happened to the guild while I was gone? Why are you doing this!?”
The silhouette turned around, a glowing pink core within their chest. Beyond the glow of their core, Daemon could faintly make out their shape; a tall, lanky figure, hunched over, yet towering over him at a little over 7 feet and clad in sleek armor that reflected an iridescent purple. Their helmet sported a glass visor, a weathered skull kept beneath, wires and other metal bits attached to it.
“D-Daemon, you need to… run, This… this isn’t Myron.” Milo spoke through gasps, clawing at the digits strangling him,
“Quiet, you!” The stranger growled, glancing at Milo, forcefully tossing him aside into the wall before turning back to Daemon “As I should have guessed - Daemon Voltaire. I see you have acclimated to 002… last time we met like this, you were all by your lonesome.”
“What do you mean? What about those cronies you sent to me that wanted me dead” Daemon questioned the figure, confused.
“Change of plans. You see, with the proper… adjustments… Anyone capable of piloting 002 could prove a valuable asset to our cause. Forget these primitive filchers. Your talent is wasted on them, join us, and you, your family included, can all become part of something far greater than yourself. What do you say?” The stranger extended a hand to Daemon.
“You invade my home, tear me away from my family and then follow me across dimensions just to kill the very people who saved me!?” Daemon spat, stepping away from the stranger’s attempt to persuade him.
The stranger retracted his hand with a sigh. “And here I was hoping we could go about this the easy way… I suppose you leave me no choice, I shall have someone sent to recycle you. You will join us, one way or another.” They raised their arm up. “Until then, Mr. Voltaire.”
A wave of energy flew from their arm, striking the suit and knocking it to the ground. Within the suit, alarms blared from where Daemon was piloting, reddish pink electricity crackling around him, striking him as he attempted to regain control and rendering him unconscious.
“Daemon…? Daemon, Wake up!” The voice of Elec-Sys could be heard, faint and distant.
Daemon opened his eyes, still housed within the mech, Groaning as he woke to the sound of alarms and beeping from the holographic monitors.
“//: Error, multiple failures detected. Thrusters: Offline. Internal Weapon Platform: Inoperable. External Shielding: Damaged. Overall status: Critical.” Boomed the voice of the mech.
Daemon trudged back into position to pilot the suit, as Elec-Sys managed the errors flashing on screen.
“Scanner still operational… Looks like they’re leaving.” Elec-Sys stated. “Maybe now we can- Wait… No no, no, no!”
“What is it?” Daemon asked as he watched Elec-Sys picking the pace as she sped through diagnostics.
“I’m reading a rogue hostile heading straight for us… and fast.” A radar popped up in the corner of Daemon’s visor, a red blip steadily approaching from the south. Yet another alarm went off within the suit, a beam of light crashing down through the guildhall. A large entity manifested in the hallway, Obfuscated by a dense layer of smoke and dust .
“I’m disappointed in you 002, a prime piece of robotics like yourself, going AWOL to help some selfish heathen…” The entity spoke, mocking Daemon through the smokey shroud. “It’s a shame we’ve been ordered to recycle you… but hey, I’m honored to be the one to end your traitorous life…”
The entity barreled towards Daemon, steam hissing from its arm as it primed to strike. Attempting to dodge the oncoming mass of metal and smoke, Daemon was struck square in the chest, sending him through the office wall facing the cliffside and plummeting towards Valley Town.
His frame rattled as he pulled himself up, he managed to capture a better glimpse of the assailant as they jumped down to pursue him. They stood just under 7 feet, clad in an exo suit far bulkier than the War Angel. Steam billowed from the exhaust pipes jutting from their back towards the sky.
Their arms were covered in synthetic muscle reinforced with metal braces, a crimson light pulsing through the circuit-like veins. The left arm ended in a massive piston, hissing with steam as it retracted from their previous attack.
In their right arm, a large, handheld chainsaw, its serrated teeth a blistering white from the heat their suit produced. The sounds of mechanical whirring and groaning could ve heard with each heavy step, complimenting the entity's heavy, labored breathing. The pale orange eyes of its helmet were transfixed upon Daemon, harboring a malicious, almost animalistic hunger.
“Scan complete.” Ele-Sys announced. “Hostile identified as EGC-LC00617. A.k.a: The Sweeper. According to the database, these are low-class units the Egrecorps deploy to ‘sweep up’ those who have lost their worth.”
Daemon reached for the suit’s firearm only to find an empty compartment. He looked down with a nervous gulp, the realization hitting him almost as hard as his foe’s fist - the gun lay out of reach in the guildmaster’s office.
“Uhh… E-Elec-Sys, any ideas?’ He stammered, taking a defensive stance against the approaching brute.
The Sweeper let out a guttural war cry as it slammed its piston arm into the dirt, making a mad dash towards Daemon.
“Look out!” Elec-Sys exclaimed as Daemon ducked under the pneumatic fist. “Scanning hostile for an opening, just… stay alive.”
“Easier said than done!” Daemon replied, sidestepping the sweeper's chainsaw that just narrowly scraped across his shoulder.
Dodging backwards, he attempted to lead them away from the town, but was grabbed by his legs and tossed like a rag doll against the wall of a nearby building before getting thrown into the fountain in the center of the square, breaking it into pieces.
A notification from Elec-Sys came through as he stumbled up from the rubble. “Scan complete. I've analyzed a weakness in their right elbow joint, which should allow you a 75.4% chance to gain access to that chainsaw and cut through its armor.”
“Meaning a 25% chance I get my head lopped off?” Daemon replied, watching as the Sweeper barreled towards him.
“You can do this, I know you can.” Elec-Sys reassured him. “Thrusters are back online, hit it, Daemon.”
With a sigh, he lunged at the hulking metal beast, grabbing a hold of the tube connected along the Sweeper's upper arm, using the mech's thrusters to rip it loose. The forearm of the brute’s suit fell to the ground, painfully dragging the pilot’s actual arm along with it, the chainsaw sputtering as the grip loosened from the trigger. Daemon circled around, grabbing the chainsaw from the Sweeper’s lifeless arm. Giving the saw a few quick revs, Daemon looked towards the Sweeper, their exhaust pipes now spewing smoke and fire as it roared in pain and anger.
“Okay, now what?” Daemon asked, scanning up and down the amputated, yet still heavily defended machine.
“The thinnest part of their armor is… right here, beneath their abdomen, aim there!” Elec-Sys guided Daemon, marking the location on his visor.
Daemon nodded in acknowledgement, revving the chainsaw once more as he rushed down his wounded foe, running the blade straight through this, the teeth ripping across its torso in splatters of blackened red.
He forcefully pulled the blade out the side of their waist, sending the Sweeper crumpling to the ground. Looking back, Daemon couldn't help but stare in shock at the sight of the brute’s remains, wires and meaty chunks dangled from their grievous wound, revealing that these entities were, in reality, biomechanical in nature.
The villagers gathered around the scene before them, a brief silence as they glanced at Daemon standing before erupting into cheering. Daemon shook his head and began making his way back to the guildhall, flying back up through the hole within the office wall.
“You did good today.” Elec-Sys spoke. “The town must see you as some kind of hero.”
Daemon chuckled halfheartedly at this statement. Although the praise was nice, the chaotic events that had transpired left a mark upon his psyche. He certainly did not feel like a hero.
“Daemon! You're alive!” Milo exclaimed, running up to greet him. “Are you hurt at all?”
“I’m fine, Milo.” Responded Daemon. “What about you? How are you… holding up?”
Milo rubbed his upper arm. “A little sore in the upper body, but nothing too serious. …I'm just glad you got here when you did.”
“...Yeah.” Daemon spoke quietly as the mech spat him out from the core. “Maybe everyone else would still be here, had I been here sooner…”
“You did what you could, Daemon. None of us could have known how fast they would have attacked.” Milo reassured Daemon, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We'll find them. They're somewhere out there, I can feel it.”
Daemon placed a paw against his forehead, thoughts and questions racing around his head. Who was that mysterious figure who spoke with Myron's voice? What did they want with the guild? What did they mean when they said they had met ‘last time’? These questions pounded against his temples, compounded by the ones he still had yet to answer. But one question stood out to him among the rest, one that burned at the forefront of his mind: ‘Is Abigail okay?’
“She'll be alright, Daemon, I promise.” Elec-Sys spoke from within his head, clearly peeking in at his thoughts. “I know you have a lot of questions. I’ll answer them in time, but trust me when I say that she is in better hands.”
Daemon peered back through the hole in the wall out towards the cheering village. He smiled to himself as he felt a bit of the stress and worry lift from his spirit. Knowing that wherever his mother was, she was hopefully safe and sound.
