Nov 27, 2023 17:06:26 GMT -5
Post by ABAS on Nov 27, 2023 17:06:26 GMT -5
Time was running short.
While ABAS considered himself too much a student of reasoning and logic to believe in such fanciful things as “fate” or “omens”, he couldn’t deny there was a certain….feeling in the air. Earth itself seemed to be waiting with bated breath, preparing itself for some unseen blow yet to fall. He knew what was happening of course: the looming threat of Arctic was causing him to stress and overanalyze every aspect of his training. It was a perfectly logical reaction to the situation of course. If even half of what Callion said about the Frost Demon was true, he would need to train hard if he had even the smallest chance of being helpful, let alone actually fight the creature. Yet that damnable emotional core, tucked away in the recesses of ABAS’s vast and well-organized consciousness, could not let the feeling of premonition go.
The unruly emotion irritated ABAS more than he would have thought possible only a few weeks ago. It was like a bonfire burning in his chest, sending lines of logic and reasoning spinning away like sparks off a campfire. The emotion’s intensity was like nothing he had ever felt before.
But then again, that was not the only thing that was changing.
ABAS inhaled deeply, feeling the alveoli in his lungs scrub the cold air for needed gases and discarding the extraneous. He could feel his dual hearts pumping in perfect synch, driving thousands of little particles through his body. As always, watching the perfect rhythm of his body soothed him, calming his thoughts from a raging torrent, into a gently flowing stream.
He stood then, facing his opponent with a detached sort of curiosity. The boy was Shen’s top student, trained practically since birth for the art of the kill. ABAS could see the tension in his stance and he didn’t even need to touch the boy’s mind to see the rage radiating off him like heat from a stove. “Abomination” they called him: a perversion of the Crane School’s teachings that had somehow deceived Shen into teaching him the Crane’s deepest secrets. ABAS had no doubt that this boy would kill him where he stood if given the chance: fanatically ripping him limb from limb in some misplaced search for approval from Shen.
The man himself stood atop a raised dias like it was some kind of throne, sneering down at his two best students.
“Begin!”
In a flash, the two shot to the center of the stage, exchanging blows almost faster than the eye could track. A few weeks ago, ABAS would have struggled to keep up with the boy’s smoothly flowing combinations, cycling between fighting style after fighting style in an attempt to keep up.
But now? He was just so bored. The effort it would take to disable this child wasn’t worth the time it would waste.
ABAS parried three quick jabs with abject disinterest before his left hand shot out like a striking viper. The boy attempted to retreat, but ABAS already had him in an elegant little wrist lock that had him screaming in pain. He considered the boy for a moment, cocking his head. The ABAS of before would have let him go, seeing no point in injuring one of his charges.
With a snap, the boy’s wrist snapped like a dried twig, barely audible over the sound of his wailing. ABAS hooked a foot under the boy’s side, and kicked him over to Shen’s feet. There was a long, pregnant pause as the students in the room waited with bated breath.
“Leave us.” Shen said finally, gesturing for the boy to be taken away. He stared in to ABAS’ eyes, the remote sliding into his hand. “Explain yourself bug. How dare you humiliate me in my own dojo. I did NOT teach you to leave your opponents alive.”
“You didn't.” ABAS agreed. “But I had reasons for the action if you’ll allow me to explain." He said. Shen ground his teeth together but slowly nodded.
“In the end, it all comes down to the message it sent. First of all, none of your students will ever bother me again. While their interruptions to my training were ineffectual at best, they did slightly hamper my progress by 1.5%. With Arctic on the horizon, such a waste is practically criminal. Killing the boy would have made him a martyr. Now, they will know the consequences of interrupting me.”
“And the other?”
“In short, to tell YOU to stop wasting both of our time.” ABAS said softly. The room grew quieter if that was even possible, the air thick with a killing fury. “I have nothing left to gain from sparring with those of lesser skill. I have reached a near 100% success rate in counteracting their assaults, and any further sparring will not yield noticeable improvements in strength or skill. And yet, you refuse to fight me, or induct me into the inner echelons of your school.” ABAS continued, spreading his arms wide as if in question. “I am sure you will eventually teach me the Tri-Bean or the Solar Flare. Your terming me as an inheritance disciple ensures that. But for now, you see me as a showpiece, something to trot out in front of prospective students, or a punishment for the older ones.” ABAS explained, his feet sliding back into a combat stance.
“We do not have the time for me to indulge your inefficient ego-trips. Arctic could be here any day now, and every moment I am not pushed to my utter limits is a moment wasted. If I am to protect this world, to fufiill the directives of my superiors, I must learn all you can teach me. As FAST as you can teach me.”
Silence.
Then Shen EXPLODED into motion. ABAS had thought he had a handle on the capabilities of the Crane School before. After all, with his Cerulian genetics, it was a simple matter to integrate the basic forms with the individual, minute variations of his peers. With a little practice, he had been able to dominate every opponent he had come across. Both within the school and without.
Compared to Shen however, he was a child.
Wasting no time on reason, ABAS immediately responded to the charge by matching its aggression! Drawing upon his nascent mastery of the Crane style, he launched volley after volley of lighting fast punches and palm strikes, even working in the odd kick or elbow as the situation demanded. And unlike when he first arrived at the Crane Dojo, this was no wild, uncoordinated berserker rush: this was true martial arts. Every single blow was aimed at a joint, pressure point or similarly vital area, all of which would take the old man brutally out of the fight if it landed.
But Shen simply wasn’t there.
The part of ABAS’s brain that wasn’t devoted to combat calculations was utterly entranced by the old man’s economy of motion. Shen didn’t so much dodge ABAS’s assault as much as he seemed to utterly ignore it. In fact, he barely seemed to break stride as the bio-android’s best efforts were met with naught but air, or were batted away with light touches. If ABAS was the storm, then the old master was the eye of it.
Then, almost as an afterthought, Shen began his counterattack. His style was quite unlike anything ABAS had seen before: instead of opting for a sheer quantity of attacks, he seemed to focus on quality. A Dodon ray to the kneecap to hamper his agility. A merciless thumb strike to the eye, blinding ABAS for a brief moment. Shen’s attacks were inconsequential to ABAS’s regeneration of course, but they were burning his energy rapidly and, more importantly, putting him off balance.
“ENOUGH! SOLAR FLARE!”
ABAS screeched in pain as both his eyes and ki sense were completely overloaded with light! It felt like every high-beam in the world had shone at him at once, and his brain burned with the sheer overstimulation! Blind and in pain, ABAS let loose a kiai to attempt to force Shen back, firing Dodon Rays blindly in every direction. He knew in his heart that it was pointless-the chances of hitting a martial arts master in this state were basically zero-, but he was unwilling to allow Shen to beat him quietly.
However, beating him was exactly what Shen did. With a bare whisper of sound, Shen ghosted up to him, and brought him to his knees with a brutal combination of blows. “Pathetic. Weeks of personal tutoring, and you go stupid the second your eyes and ki sense is stripped away. Are you stupid bug? Did you forget you have ears and a nose on that stupid-looking head? And you DARE to call ME egotistical?” FOOLISH?”
There was a rustling noise, and once again that searing pain took over ABAS’ body as he writhed in agony. This time, Shen let it go right up until the point the safety limit kicked in, preventing ABAS from being outright killed by the pain.
“As I was TRYING to tell you bug, there are others to handle this. I didn’t teach you the basics just for you to go and get yourself killed! Let me remind you, I am training you to secure the LEGACY of the Crane School. Not to run off and kill yourself against a threat you know you can’t win against.” Shen gave him one last kick, before turning away in disgust.
“....I suppose I can’t blame you too much after all. One does not blame a spade for digging anymore than a training dummy for being hit. If it is in your nature to be a good little suicidal murder-droid, then I’m just going to have to roll with the punches here. Get up. If you want training, you get training.”
It was at that moment that ABAS realized a flaw in his thinking. There had been a THIRD reason why he had snapped that kid’s wrist. Unconsciously, he had wanted to test if injuring a human provoked anything in him. Either via his safety protocols, or an emotional response. He didn’t feel anything then. Now, however, he felt something familiar. Something he had only felt once before, when his emotions had overcome his logic.
He felt HATE.
Hate towards Shen for his stupid cruelty. Hate towards the world, for bringing him into existence only to force a purpose on him that he never asked for. Hate towards the fact that his death was very likely given the magnitude of the incoming threat, and the knowledge that his programming would force him to die to it. And most of all, hate for himself for not being strong enough to do anything about it.
If this continues, Arctic will kill me in one blow and that will be my end. I will never have a chance to discover my purpose, never have a chance to unlock my potential, and, most of all, never be free from these chains. I MUST be stronger. I MUST!
WC: 1851
Training dummy active!
Weights Active!
Solar Flare Week 1/2
While ABAS considered himself too much a student of reasoning and logic to believe in such fanciful things as “fate” or “omens”, he couldn’t deny there was a certain….feeling in the air. Earth itself seemed to be waiting with bated breath, preparing itself for some unseen blow yet to fall. He knew what was happening of course: the looming threat of Arctic was causing him to stress and overanalyze every aspect of his training. It was a perfectly logical reaction to the situation of course. If even half of what Callion said about the Frost Demon was true, he would need to train hard if he had even the smallest chance of being helpful, let alone actually fight the creature. Yet that damnable emotional core, tucked away in the recesses of ABAS’s vast and well-organized consciousness, could not let the feeling of premonition go.
The unruly emotion irritated ABAS more than he would have thought possible only a few weeks ago. It was like a bonfire burning in his chest, sending lines of logic and reasoning spinning away like sparks off a campfire. The emotion’s intensity was like nothing he had ever felt before.
But then again, that was not the only thing that was changing.
ABAS inhaled deeply, feeling the alveoli in his lungs scrub the cold air for needed gases and discarding the extraneous. He could feel his dual hearts pumping in perfect synch, driving thousands of little particles through his body. As always, watching the perfect rhythm of his body soothed him, calming his thoughts from a raging torrent, into a gently flowing stream.
He stood then, facing his opponent with a detached sort of curiosity. The boy was Shen’s top student, trained practically since birth for the art of the kill. ABAS could see the tension in his stance and he didn’t even need to touch the boy’s mind to see the rage radiating off him like heat from a stove. “Abomination” they called him: a perversion of the Crane School’s teachings that had somehow deceived Shen into teaching him the Crane’s deepest secrets. ABAS had no doubt that this boy would kill him where he stood if given the chance: fanatically ripping him limb from limb in some misplaced search for approval from Shen.
The man himself stood atop a raised dias like it was some kind of throne, sneering down at his two best students.
“Begin!”
In a flash, the two shot to the center of the stage, exchanging blows almost faster than the eye could track. A few weeks ago, ABAS would have struggled to keep up with the boy’s smoothly flowing combinations, cycling between fighting style after fighting style in an attempt to keep up.
But now? He was just so bored. The effort it would take to disable this child wasn’t worth the time it would waste.
ABAS parried three quick jabs with abject disinterest before his left hand shot out like a striking viper. The boy attempted to retreat, but ABAS already had him in an elegant little wrist lock that had him screaming in pain. He considered the boy for a moment, cocking his head. The ABAS of before would have let him go, seeing no point in injuring one of his charges.
With a snap, the boy’s wrist snapped like a dried twig, barely audible over the sound of his wailing. ABAS hooked a foot under the boy’s side, and kicked him over to Shen’s feet. There was a long, pregnant pause as the students in the room waited with bated breath.
“Leave us.” Shen said finally, gesturing for the boy to be taken away. He stared in to ABAS’ eyes, the remote sliding into his hand. “Explain yourself bug. How dare you humiliate me in my own dojo. I did NOT teach you to leave your opponents alive.”
“You didn't.” ABAS agreed. “But I had reasons for the action if you’ll allow me to explain." He said. Shen ground his teeth together but slowly nodded.
“In the end, it all comes down to the message it sent. First of all, none of your students will ever bother me again. While their interruptions to my training were ineffectual at best, they did slightly hamper my progress by 1.5%. With Arctic on the horizon, such a waste is practically criminal. Killing the boy would have made him a martyr. Now, they will know the consequences of interrupting me.”
“And the other?”
“In short, to tell YOU to stop wasting both of our time.” ABAS said softly. The room grew quieter if that was even possible, the air thick with a killing fury. “I have nothing left to gain from sparring with those of lesser skill. I have reached a near 100% success rate in counteracting their assaults, and any further sparring will not yield noticeable improvements in strength or skill. And yet, you refuse to fight me, or induct me into the inner echelons of your school.” ABAS continued, spreading his arms wide as if in question. “I am sure you will eventually teach me the Tri-Bean or the Solar Flare. Your terming me as an inheritance disciple ensures that. But for now, you see me as a showpiece, something to trot out in front of prospective students, or a punishment for the older ones.” ABAS explained, his feet sliding back into a combat stance.
“We do not have the time for me to indulge your inefficient ego-trips. Arctic could be here any day now, and every moment I am not pushed to my utter limits is a moment wasted. If I am to protect this world, to fufiill the directives of my superiors, I must learn all you can teach me. As FAST as you can teach me.”
Silence.
Then Shen EXPLODED into motion. ABAS had thought he had a handle on the capabilities of the Crane School before. After all, with his Cerulian genetics, it was a simple matter to integrate the basic forms with the individual, minute variations of his peers. With a little practice, he had been able to dominate every opponent he had come across. Both within the school and without.
Compared to Shen however, he was a child.
Wasting no time on reason, ABAS immediately responded to the charge by matching its aggression! Drawing upon his nascent mastery of the Crane style, he launched volley after volley of lighting fast punches and palm strikes, even working in the odd kick or elbow as the situation demanded. And unlike when he first arrived at the Crane Dojo, this was no wild, uncoordinated berserker rush: this was true martial arts. Every single blow was aimed at a joint, pressure point or similarly vital area, all of which would take the old man brutally out of the fight if it landed.
But Shen simply wasn’t there.
The part of ABAS’s brain that wasn’t devoted to combat calculations was utterly entranced by the old man’s economy of motion. Shen didn’t so much dodge ABAS’s assault as much as he seemed to utterly ignore it. In fact, he barely seemed to break stride as the bio-android’s best efforts were met with naught but air, or were batted away with light touches. If ABAS was the storm, then the old master was the eye of it.
Then, almost as an afterthought, Shen began his counterattack. His style was quite unlike anything ABAS had seen before: instead of opting for a sheer quantity of attacks, he seemed to focus on quality. A Dodon ray to the kneecap to hamper his agility. A merciless thumb strike to the eye, blinding ABAS for a brief moment. Shen’s attacks were inconsequential to ABAS’s regeneration of course, but they were burning his energy rapidly and, more importantly, putting him off balance.
“ENOUGH! SOLAR FLARE!”
ABAS screeched in pain as both his eyes and ki sense were completely overloaded with light! It felt like every high-beam in the world had shone at him at once, and his brain burned with the sheer overstimulation! Blind and in pain, ABAS let loose a kiai to attempt to force Shen back, firing Dodon Rays blindly in every direction. He knew in his heart that it was pointless-the chances of hitting a martial arts master in this state were basically zero-, but he was unwilling to allow Shen to beat him quietly.
However, beating him was exactly what Shen did. With a bare whisper of sound, Shen ghosted up to him, and brought him to his knees with a brutal combination of blows. “Pathetic. Weeks of personal tutoring, and you go stupid the second your eyes and ki sense is stripped away. Are you stupid bug? Did you forget you have ears and a nose on that stupid-looking head? And you DARE to call ME egotistical?” FOOLISH?”
There was a rustling noise, and once again that searing pain took over ABAS’ body as he writhed in agony. This time, Shen let it go right up until the point the safety limit kicked in, preventing ABAS from being outright killed by the pain.
“As I was TRYING to tell you bug, there are others to handle this. I didn’t teach you the basics just for you to go and get yourself killed! Let me remind you, I am training you to secure the LEGACY of the Crane School. Not to run off and kill yourself against a threat you know you can’t win against.” Shen gave him one last kick, before turning away in disgust.
“....I suppose I can’t blame you too much after all. One does not blame a spade for digging anymore than a training dummy for being hit. If it is in your nature to be a good little suicidal murder-droid, then I’m just going to have to roll with the punches here. Get up. If you want training, you get training.”
It was at that moment that ABAS realized a flaw in his thinking. There had been a THIRD reason why he had snapped that kid’s wrist. Unconsciously, he had wanted to test if injuring a human provoked anything in him. Either via his safety protocols, or an emotional response. He didn’t feel anything then. Now, however, he felt something familiar. Something he had only felt once before, when his emotions had overcome his logic.
He felt HATE.
Hate towards Shen for his stupid cruelty. Hate towards the world, for bringing him into existence only to force a purpose on him that he never asked for. Hate towards the fact that his death was very likely given the magnitude of the incoming threat, and the knowledge that his programming would force him to die to it. And most of all, hate for himself for not being strong enough to do anything about it.
If this continues, Arctic will kill me in one blow and that will be my end. I will never have a chance to discover my purpose, never have a chance to unlock my potential, and, most of all, never be free from these chains. I MUST be stronger. I MUST!
WC: 1851
Training dummy active!
Weights Active!
Solar Flare Week 1/2
