Matou Shinji and the Broken Chains (HP/FSN CYOA)

[Malorius]

You know, if we are capable of actually making it reel with any of our actions, it will be smarter to capitalize on it and hurt it even more, not to attempt to run away with unpredictable chances of spontaneous evaporation. ("Leave" is not an auto-survive option, it's a resolution to run away and leave others in a harm's way). A suitably overwhelming alfa-strike can let us triumph (I.e. drive it away) here, methinks. Especially with Felix Felicis as our Path to Victory.

Also, Fusion is supposed to be a skill straight from the Age of Gods, the spirit is weakened - and let's not forget about masterwork potions in our hands. We are not completely out of our league.

[skulkidcachi90]

Change my vote to.

[x] Attempt to communicate.

[Skull Leader]

[x] Fight - no matter how powerful this thing is, it was beaten once. Trapped. And so, it can be beaten again

Communicate with the thing locked up from long long ago (unfortunately not in a galaxy far far away) and is insulting all of humanity...oh hell no. No Deals, no talks, no compromises. I don't think Sion would ever approve of Shinji of making any deal with a thing that goes on and sounds like Tartari.

No I rather fight. Might not be the smartest choice, but Shinji knew the risks of stepping onto this island.

[alfheimwanderer]

Choice 306: [X] Fight - no matter how powerful this thing is, it was beaten once. Trapped. And so, it can be beaten again

---

Chapter 79. Smokeless Fire

Matou Shinji found himself very, very confused as he made his way deeper into the sealed off cavern, finding the silence of the place to be quite eerie, because it wasn't just sound that was deadened here. His prana could not travel very far through the dense material of this place, meaning that his ability to map the cave to any significant distance was effectively negated, and that he couldn't rely on the ability to manipulate the terrain at all.

'All I really have is my wand, my ofuda, and Zelkova's bounded fields.'

Granted, ofuda, in the right quantities and compositions, could help a onmyouji to fight enemies that one ordinarily would have no chance against, and he did have a stock of anti-spirit, anti-physical, and elemental ofuda available, so it wasn't as if he was helpless. He just wouldn't have the raw power and resistance that fusion form offered him, or the instinctive awareness of the world around him.

'I guess it will have to do, though I wonder...what is imprisoned here?'

While this sealed space could be a natural phenomenon, with large "runes" surrounding it sealing the area from the outside world, he somewhat doubted it. It was far more likely that someone - or something - had gone through a lot of trouble to set this whole thing up as some kind of prison.

'Maybe for something like a nuckelavee, but more dangerous...'

A spiritual being of some sort, perhaps? The fragment of some dead god or Great Old One? Or was it not a prison, but a vault of some kind, with some kind of treasure or artifact laying deep within?

There was really only one way to find out, and that was by reaching the bottom.

Thinking that now might be a good time to try something he hadn't done before, Matou Shinji decided that perhaps it was time to make Zygmunt Budge earn his keep. After all, the spirit of the brilliant potioneer was admittedly beyond him when it came to crafting elixirs, and beyond that, the tome that housed the spirit was a powerful artifact in its own right.

'He's not entirely happy with me, since his goal is to guide a Champion to victory in this competition, and my purpose for coming here isn't necessarily to win. Still, with both of us trapped down here - admittedly due to my mistake - neither of us are going to achieve our goals, so he has every reason to work with me.'

Though, knowing Budge, his help would probably come at a price.

'If it does, so be it.'

And so the boy opened the book, with green smoke billowing out of its pages and forming the glowing silhouette of a man, which seemed to look around and then freeze.

"Where are we?" the wraith of Budge asked, his voice uncharacteristically grave. "This doesn't seem like the island. The last time you called me there was much more magic about than here."

"We're still on the island, but--"

"But what? And why is it so dark?"

"We are underground, in a cave that is isolated from the rest of the world," Shinji reported, holding nothing back. "I came here thinking there might be ingredients, but...I made a mistake."

"A mistake," Budge repeated.

"...the way in sealed itself behind me, and none of my usual methods of escape are working," the boy related. "I'm not sure but...this might be some kind of prison."

"P-prison?! Of all things, you are in prison? Why I should I help someone so foolish--!"

"Because this place is impenetrable not only to beings of flesh, but spirits as well," Zelkova added. "If you wish to achieve your goals, you will need to assist us in ours."

"..."

"...please," Shinji all but begged. "I promise I'll do my best in the full competition - or give you to someone who will."

"...fine. I suppose I can offer my aid," the shade of Zygmunt Budge grumbled. "I can give you potions, spell support, or something else."

“Potions, if you please,” the boy from the East said at once. If Budge – one of the greatest potioneers to ever live – was truly offering him something for his use, then he would be a fool not to take the spirit up on his offer.
At his words, with the pages of the book flipping here and there until at last it lay flat, and a chest emerged from it.

"Samples of some of the finest potions I have ever created. Work that should have inspired generations, revolutionized the brewing process. And yet. Ignored."

The chest opened, revealing vial upon vial of carefully labeled liquids. Potions that rendered a person immune to fire. Potions that increased strength and speed. Potions that enhanced the senses. A potion which glowed with a pure white light, like a miniature sun. Potions of regeneration. Potions to cure disease. An...animagus potion? Veritaserum. A potion of "frozen time". And of course, Felix Felicis.

"I suppose under the circumstances, I will allow you to take up to three with you. Choose what you will."

Some of these concoctions Shinji was reasonably familiar with. The others…

‘I’ve never seen anything like them before.’

“What are these?” he asked, pointing at the brilliantly glowing potion, along with the Animagus potion and the so-called Potion of Frozen Time.

“The Phial of Light, as I call it, absorbs sunlight during the day and releases it at night,” Budge mentioned. “A way to produce light without using my wand – or having to start a fire. It also is quite useful in driving off vampires, as it can flare quite brightly.”

“And the Animagus potion?”

“Exactly what it says. Drinking it will give you the ability to become an Animagus!” the wraith of the Potioneer thundered.

“Eh? But—”

“If the potion is compatible with you, meaning it has been brewed with a mandrake leaf soaked in your mouth, and a bit of your hair,” Budge amended. “If it is not, well, then it might turn you into a werewolf. Or were whatever your Animagus form would be. Or give you horrible mutations. One of them.”

“…uh, I think I’ll pass,” Shinji said gingerly, cringing as he imagined the sorts of mutations that might occur. He had no intention to become some kind of monster, after all. “And…what about this…?”

An ice-blue vial, frozen to the touch.

A so-called potion of “frozen time.”

“Ah. This.”

The words came out in a hush, with the spirit for once showing something close to reverence.

“…this is one of my greatest creations,” the wraith murmured. “Crafted with sand exposed to an hour-reversal charm.”
“An hour…reversal charm?” Shinji echoed. That…that sounded a lot like temporal manipulation.

“A spell that allows one to travel to the past.”

“…such a thing exists?”

“Yes, though it isn’t common knowledge, and it is very, very dangerous, more so than any other branch of magic,” Budge whispered. “Well, except for Potions that is.”

“And this one…freezes time?”

“Well, to be precise, it speeds up your internal time, depending on how much you drink and how much magic you have,” the wraith explained, fairly glowing with satisfaction. “To everyone else, yes, the world as may well be frozen.”

“Wow.”

A thought occurred to the boy then.

“So why isn’t this…”

“What I call my greatest creation?” Budge questioned, chuckling at the look on Shinji’s face. “It is the natural thing to wonder, isn’t it? There are two reasons: the first being that when you return to the normal flow of time, you will…it is possible the drinker will suffer something like splinching.”

“…ah. And the second?”

“It requires sand exposed to that charm, and very few know how to cast it,” the wraith admitted. “Even I only managed by salvaging what was within a shattered Time-Turner. Felix Felicis, on the other hand – that one I managed to create without such…exotic ingredients.”

The boy asked about a few other potions here and there, with Budge supplying information about them when Shinji had questions, and in the end, picked out the three he wanted.

A vial of Felix Felicis, as luck, or perhaps, manipulation of fate was always useful.

A glass flask filled with a curious red liquid that Budge had called a potion of regeneration, which not only healed the body, but the spirit.

‘Though apparently, prolonged use can cause damage to one’s prana production and channeling capabilities.’

And, last, to the spirit’s surprise, he had chosen the Phial of Light, or what he privately thought of as the Phial of Galadriel, since Luna had made him read through Lord of the Rings a few times.

“Why that one?” Budge asked, as the spirit was quite curious as to why the boy had picked one that wasn’t obviously useful for battle.

“First, I’m not sure I can trust my spiritual senses right now, so I want to be able to see,” Shinji answered. “Aside from that – I’m not the only one suffering from the lack of prana. Zelkova can use the light too – he’s a tree, after all.”

Zelkova, after all, drew prana from the world, in addition to the faint trickle from him.

“Ah, yes, your tree spirit companion,” Budge commented. “A useful sort. Dedicated and dutiful. Wouldn’t have minded him around back on my island.”

“Was there…anyone on the island? Besides you?” Shinji questioned, since the spirit had never talked much about his past. Just what he wanted, and how disappointed he often was.

“No. Except for once, when someone was shipwrecked,” the wraith replied after a long moment. “Heh. More time to work on potions without the distractions of things like socializing. Romance. Or any of that drivel and hogwash. And I did. I became the greatest potioneer in the world.”

How much Budge believed what he said, Shinji didn’t know.

But what he did know was how terrible loneliness could be, and how much it could twist a person.

‘Bitterness. Hate. Resentment.’

What would Matou Shinji have become, if he had not found another goal, had not been given a chance to go to Hogwarts and seek his destiny? What would have become, if he had been stuck in Fuyuki for years? What crimes would he have committed?

‘…I might have become a monster.’

“Are you certain these are the choices you wish to make?” Budge inquired, as Shinji drank two of the potions and clipped the last to his belt.

“Yes.”

“So be it.”

With that the potions chest receded back onto the book, with the pages flipping about randomly once more.

“Will there be anything else?” Budge asked. “Seeing as you have gotten yourself…into this predicament, I suppose I am obligated to offer any other help you may need?”

"No, that's fine," Shinji replied, firming his resolve. " I have to be able to do things myself sometimes, after all."

"So long as you can," Budge stated, with the silouhette dissolving back into mist and vanishing into the book, leaving the onmyouji alone with his familiar.

"...at least we have a light," Shinji said quietly, noting just how drab his surroundings were now that he could see them.

A featureless, translucent crystal, underlined with something shadowy, with his prana not moving particularly well through either.

'Yes. Shall we proceed, master?' Zelkova inquired, seeking rather more cheerful now that there was a bit of conceptual sunlight about, around which Shinji had rigged up a reflector so that it didn't end up blinding him.

'I’m glad he likes the sun potion.'

It was natural, he supposed, as photosynthesis was one of the ways that the kodama generated the prana needed to sustain its existence, after all.

"Downward we go."

And down they went, with the luck potion and light letting them successfully avoid falling into a bottomless pit or two (which he bridged and crossed with the help of his living staff), accidentally move a bit of loose stone in an array such that it effectively allowed passage onwards, and avoid stepping on a series of jagged stones laced with a spiritual decay enchantment.

Fortunate, as his supernatural senses were all but useless down here, and the crystalline nature of the walls created quite a number of optical illusions in reaction to the light.

One of the pits hadn't been there in his vision, after all. It had only been an impulse to stop and test the ground that had kept him from falling to his death. The spikes and stones too had been concealed, and the subtle array created by the shadows of what seemed like only rubble.

'...this really is a prison, isn't it?'

It could still be a vault, of course, but whatever it was, someone didn't want...people entering it, or going any deeper than the first chamber, if that.

He found himself nattering on in his mind, speaking with Zelkova in an attempt to fill the absolute silence, as he felt he'd go mad otherwise, as they passed through chamber after chamber, took turn after turn, deeper and deeper into the bowels of the earth.

He didn't know how long he'd been walking. Or how deep he'd gone. Perhaps he should have grown tired, but the regeneration potion took care of that.

And then at last, he came to the final room.

Against one wall, there were tree roots, or what looked like roots, surrounding a nearly Circular patch of crystal, behind which the shadows boiled and writhed. In the center of the room, surrounded by three pillars inscribed with runes, was the first artificial thing he'd seen down here, other than the knife...or had it been a knife? Maybe instead it had been part of the shadowy substance of the prison, which said interesting things about this entire area.

It was something like a urn, gleaming in the light like a smokeless flame, with odd inscriptions written on its surface.

'Wait. There's a fourth pillar.'

Had been a fourth pillar, but the pieces of that were shattered and strewn across the stone.

The boy thought for a few minutes about what to do, given everything in the room, but he didn't really have to think too hard. After all, the reason he'd come to the isle to begin with was because Sokaris had shown an interest in knowing more about this isle and the secrets it held. And now, with Shinji finding himself in a room with an artifact from the Age of Gods, the boy figured that at the very least he should take some rubbing of it, even if taking the artifact itself would probably be too difficult.

'It's probably trapped. Or at least, with the way it looks, it might be the power source for a portal...'

The circular patch of crystal surrounding by roots certainly looked like some kind of portal, even if it wasn't active and he had no idea where it led. Which meant that it was probably his best bet to get out of here - though first, he'd see about the inscriptions on the urn.

'Well, let's give this our best shot, Zelkova. You feel up to fusing?'

Feeling a quiet sense of confidence through their bond, Shinji let himself sink deep into his consciousness, opening the door that separated him from the world, as two minds, two souls, two beings, merged into a single new whole, with skin like stone and very Japanese clothes covering his form.

He made his way over to the urn, being careful to sidestep any of the fallen debris from the broken pillar, lest he trigger something unwanted.

And once he was close enough to touch the urn, the boy looked over it carefully, trying to see what the inscriptions said, though he noted that they too were shifting, and that they didn't seem entirely dangerous.

'Guess I really need a rubbing then,' the boy noted, taking a sheaf of paper from one of the pouches he wore on his belt, and something like a piece of lead from the other.

The moment he touched the vessel, however, no matter that there was a sheet of paper preventing him from touching it directly, it reacted to his prana, with the boy feeling like his body was no longer anchored in place as he - along with Zelkova, with whom he was fused - was drawn into the sealed space within.

---

He awoke to find himself standing on a clockwork platform, in an expanse of foggy whites and cloudy grays, as something like machinery rumbled and shuddered all around him.

'What the hell? Where am I?'

It wasn't the room where he'd stood before. It was something else. This...

'...this is the true prison.'

He could feel it. There was something in here. Something vast, and powerful, and utterly alien to his senses.

"This one is the voice of the cell. This one is the prayer and the program," he felt more than heard. "This one maintains the enfeebling aura."

Enfeebling aura? Well, it was true that he felt weaker, but...

...no, that, wasn't the presence he was sensing. It was something else. Something else was here, something--

M̙͇̠̜̳̺̞̂̎͆̍͋̉ͨ̅̊́̕͜͡Uͪͧ̔̽̌ͨ͗̿̐̊̅ͦ̽ͨ͋́͟͏̷̢̪̭̼͎̰ ̩̺͇ ͙͉̣̹͖̭͇Dͧ̍̋͢҉̵̨̛̦̣̘̻͉̟̘̰͔͇̻͎̻-̨̛͑̑̑̅ͧͩ̊̀̾̒̽̈́̈ͮͤ̋͂̇̏҉̺̜̰̥̫̬̟̬͉̻̝͖͉͡D̅͌ͥͮ͋̊̂̂̅ ̴̓͂̒ ҉̧͕̩̼̞O̵̴͔̰̠͇̥̬͙̖̰̦̹̪̣̖̞͙̎̍ͪͤ̂̉̐ͤ͊ͨ͆ͦ̌ͤͪͧ̏̄̈ͅ ̱̝L̇̄ ̸̺̠̯̯͙̼̥̌̈́͆ͩ̒̓ͬ̓͑́̀Lͯ̑͆̂ͪ̓ͨͫ̓͆̏͟͏̳̲̫̞̬͇̮͚͙͕͜͡ͅ ͕̟.ͪ ̵̵̶̝̘̘̹͓̦̟̖̟̣͈̤̙̲̙̖̜ͤͦ͗͊́ͪ̍͂̌̐ͦ͗̋ͩ́̇̌̀́͜ ̛̫̜̥̮̜̫̞̬̺̫͚̤̠͍͈̮̘͓̼̂ͨ̍͋̑̄͟͞͞M̢̛̞̫̙̝̌̽̉͗͊O͒ͪͬͭ ͮ̏ͤ̓ ̸̨̜̥͉̜͇͇̼̮ͦ͜͝͡N̈́ͮͯͯ͆̈ͩ̂ͯͦͫ͊ͭͣ̽̚҉̮̳̠̖͕̖̙͉̥͍̀̕͠͞ ̘̥̘K ̢̬͍̳̫͇͍͍̽ͨͥ̃͌ͣͥ̋͝E̿͊̓̄̇̿̚͏͟͏̤͙̠̙̀Y̶͈̍̍ͧ̓͐̋̃͋̏͢ ̥̘̤̖ ̠̟̝̖̟̻̤.̴̴̛̮͈̥̦̝̫͓̺͉̼ͫ̑͊͑ͫͤ̆ͦͬ̆̒͑̾ͭ́͢ͅ ̴͒͊ͣͧ͌̌ͫͮ͂̆̓ͣͭ҉̵̥̪̙̤̟̞̺͔̻͍̬̘̀Ć̜̰̬͉̠̙ͬ̑ͪͬ͋̓͐͜͢ ̖̠̬ͅ ̯̤̹̦̣͙͕H̷̢̛̯̻̥̦͉̩̳̥̩̩̟̖͚̠̭̥͂̒ͩ͋ͮͧ͋̌̋ͦ̎̈ͫ͐͆ͨ̑͡͠ ͉Ḯ̓ ̷̸̨̡̺̥̙͓̙̠̟̗͖̝̣̘ͦ͊̋̇̍̋͋̚̚͝L̴̴̰̯̭͑̔͒̊ͥͥ͊͆̆ͫ̾́̚͞ ̳̬͈̣ ̗͓̳Ḑ̷̮͔͕̮̺̣̞ͫ̎ͬ͂̂̈́͛̆̒̚͞͠ͅ ̵̶̨̫̩̻̺̇͒̑͆ͫ̔ͤ̀ͫͯ̕O̷̮̩̫͚̻̖̞͍̽͗̆̄͂͛̉͒̓ͨ͛͂̀ͨͬ͑̄̕ ͍͈F̔ ̢͎̮͙̗̠̬̝̯̺̞̮̱̝̗͙͇̄̃ͫ̈́ͮͤ͛̂ͯ̇͒̀̉̄̆ͬ͐ͅ ̻̝̗̟̬͍̳̬̒̎̑̊ͫ̒̇ͨ̏ͦͫ͑ͧͩ̄́́̚̕͡T̢̪̘̗̻͚͂̊̐ͥ̊̈͐̊͘͞͝ ̦̰͔̭ ͕̹̥̭̪̜̘̱̫̼H̶͔̝̩̺͈͕͇̱͇̬̳̣̩͇ͮ̾͒͆̊̕Ȩ̪̗̳̞̃̀ͭ͛̿̊ͮ́ ͔̜̠̪ ̘̳͔̻̣̝͚ ̡̥̝̻̟͓͖̣̣͖̭̪͍ͮ͆́͂ͣ͒͊͊ͬͬ̽͛́̚͘͜U̒̿͒́͊̌ͣ̔ͥ̆̏ͮ́̔ͨ͠ ̷̵͙ͅ ̮̖͈̲̗̼̞̪̘͙̖̺̟̲͉͓͙S̭͔̘̤̺̣̤̼̗͍͔̲̓̽̏̎̅ͥ̕͠͡Ủ̅̾̒ͤ̓ ҉̛͞ͅ ̻̬̯̹͔̖͙̱̗̮͉̮̲R̺͎̳̰̯͎̯͇͚̿ͤͧ͒̾͗̊ͯ̆ͩͦͮͩ̕͟͜͢P̌̋̽͗ͮ ̷̛͊ͥ ͈̞̹͇̻Ȇ̔̉̔̎ͯ̉̋ͫ̂ͨ͋͏̷̛̜̫̝̘̮̗̞̞̹̗̯͢͡ͅR̔͊́̉ͯ̂̽ͩ̾̄ ̒ͧͪͬ ̡͘͟͠҉̳̪̻̩̗S̋ͣͩ̆͒ͯ͋҉̵͔̝͇̹͈̜͍͝.̇̐ͣͣ̃ͦͣ̾ͬ͌̂͛ͬ̅ͨͭ̐ ̵̡ͧ҉ ̜̞̘̬͉̹͓̗̙͇̹̼͝

That...that thing...it...through his vision, through his spiritual senses it shone, overwhelming.

'What is that. What is--'

POWER.

Smokeless fire, given form. Trembling earth, reshaped. Chanting waters, swirling 'bout. Shining winds, restrained.

Humanoid? Could one call something humanoid, if it was far more ancient than any man? Had worn the shape before any human walked the earth?

T̒́ͦ̓҉̟̫̤̘̦͙̥̙̲͠H̵̸͈̜ͫǏ̧̟̹̼̰ͥͨ̌̉̌̕Ñ̴̦̹ͥ̉͞G͆͂ͫ ͒ͬ̓ ̴̮͚̬̼ͥ̍ ̷̡̹̟̮͌̒̅Ơ̺͇̘͓̘̋ͨ̓̿̿͒̐̕F̺̩̭ͪ̌ͦ̊̊ ̇̉ͮ͗̐҉͚D̺͙͚̻̞͑̔̎͆ͩͩ͊͠I̵̛͓̠͓̼̿̋̆͛̄͡R̛͇̣̥̦̺ͬͨ̇̀̏ ͓͓T̀ ̗̥͎͚̳̜͓̟̑̆̍̿͑͘

It was...it was...

Jinn.

A͓̦̙̲̞̲̬͞n̝̹ḑ̲̪̖̰̈ ͖͙̯̲͋̃̏̓̚y͉̝̥͇̮̋ͤ̓̔̄ͥ͒͠ó̦̭̼̞͈ͯͬ̒̓͞u̡̪̝̫̞͖̜̠ ͈̤ͣͧͬa͉̲̓̿͊͗r̢͍͕̝̺̻̃̾ͅeͣ̇͑̾̚҉̫͎̪̮ ̶̻͖̮͛̋͐n̶̟̑ͨ̍o̤͍̖̰̘̳͇ͤ͊͐ͤ̓̚ṫͯ͘.̭̟̳̲̱̱̂ͤ͒̍͆̿͌͟ ͖ ̰͗̓̃̔̚N̗̹̻͈͚̥͈ͬͮͨ͌̉ͬ͛e̱͍͍̘̪͋̒̇i͕̪̅̽ͣͮ͋̚t̟̞͖͚̹͗ ̪̠ḣ ̘͈̰͕̮̮ͅe͑̒́̌̊͏̞̮̰̩̥̞̠ř̜͉͕ ̢̙̩̖͔ͯͯ͊̊ͦ̉͗j̛̰͓̖̱̄ͥ̌̑ͬ̀i͍͖̬̞͔ͣ̏ͨn̸̞n̲̬̏͑̒́ͅ,̈́ ̆̽̿̔ ̙̬͔̬̦͇͕ ̌͑̈̇̚҉͓̺̱̻̤̤d̰̔̿̈̆́ͣ̽ͅeͫm̬̗̯̦͇̻͋ōn̬̮͍̮̲̬̏͌̎͑̚ ̯,ͯ̍ ̙͙̙̣͔̙͇̄̀̋̎̚ ̺̫͠s̓̂͊͛ͩ̌͞h̵͔̣̦̬̹͙͕ͧͧͯ̀ͩ̐͐a̠̰̟̱̤̖ͦ̈̇ͨ̎͟i̽͌ͬ̇ͭ ̆͏tͯ ̮̪͐̃͆ͩͣ̒a͕͉̟͎̪̼ͫn͐̈́̌̑́̄̚,̥͍̟̱͍͉͊͂̋͘ͅ ͒̏҉͓͈̭̺̲̯͎ṉ̺̗̙̼̠̣̈́ͩ͛ͬo̶̞̓͑̊ͥ̓͂r̘̖͔ ̯͉̬͕ͦ̌̒́ḡ̻͚͚̜͐̀̔͒o̘̜̻̩d̮͓͇̥͈ͮ͛̐̂̑.ͪ҉͖̹͚̳̳

The voice. The voice. The voice. The voice in his head.

Like nails on chalkboard. Like white-hot daggers being driven into his ears. Like a thousand feral wolves ripping at his flesh.

̓̍͒ͫY͖̺̳̭̘ͫ̐͛́̇͒́͞o̮͖̠̩̯͉͎ͥ̐̈́̎u̥̝̮̕ ̧̖̹̬̳̼̠͐͗̿̏sͥ̓ͯ̑t̵͈̖̄͂̔͗̉ͬ̉o͚̟̪̲ͭ̃ͣ̂́́l̫͑̽̂̾͌ͨ ̩̦͈̫ ̤e͛̔ͮͩͯ ̢̹̟̪̙̬̼͐̃̇̽g̤̭͡r̺̲̲̮̭ͥ̿͂e̪͎a̳͕̥ͨ͗͘ṭ͕͇̦n̊ͫ̓̅̐̑ ̠̭̝̮ e̹͇̻̪ͮ̽ͯ͗̔́̚ͅs͛̽̅͏̝s̱̱̘̬̲̮ͣ ͔̅ͯ͒̍͞f̞̟̫̤̖͒͒͊̂̆r̨̮̥̩͑̐ͧ̓̄͂o̺̹̯̥̜̊͠m̝̳̠̝̟̙͒ͪ̚ ̲ ̡͎͈ṯ̷͙̬̟h̤͇̪̺̩̍̏e͎̺̭ͭ͒͂̆ ͆̔̓ͮ̾ͤ̅҉c̖͚͓̜͖̫̆̑̀o̘̻̣̯̓͐̿͊ͤ̌ͥ͞ͅs̢͍̩̭̲͔̠ͥ̌ͩ̃͌ͫ ̙mͭͥ ̗̑̌͟ỏ͕̝͡ͅͅș̖̙̟͎̽͌̐,̧̮̤̔̍̃̚ ̱̲̻̬͎̀ͫa̴̬͉̜̫̯͔̙̒ͧ̓sͥ͋̓҉̺̹̗̪ ͚̤̥͕̅͜t͉̭͓̒̿̍͋hͫ͆̌ͥ҉͓͇ḙ͈̘͓̪̱ͣ͑ͭ̊̔ ̗͔̝̪͕́̋͐̂̚r̭͇̿̃̊͌̚a̷̮̱̦̖͉̱̟ͤ̄ͨ̅ͨv̷̮͓̯̙͔ͥͬ̋͋͑ͭ͆ ȇ̘ͭ n̘̦s̷͖̤͕̝̓̄̽ͧ͐ͤͧ ̺̝̤ͦ̏̓͋s̳͍̝̮̱̺ͪ̆ͩ͐t̸̻̪̬̥̊̋̑̂ol̬͓̲ͪ̿́̈̅ͯ̑eͬ̅ͦ̋̅ ̛͎̑̾ ̠ ̓҉̫̦̻̝̥t̶ͬ̉ͬ̐h̷̤͚͓̊̍̄̂e͓̅̑ͮ͒̽ͅ ̧̩͍s̜̠̻̣̹ͨ̉͒ͨ͛̽͒u̝͈̤̘̯̺̮̇̉̚̕n̆ͭs̗͔̗̻̋̽ ͚̳͈͊́ͮf̢̩̜̩͖̺̻̒͂̾̓͆̓r͇͐̆͌ͭ̐̏̍ȯ̳̭͇̗͚͚͙͠m̜̹̄̿̇͢ ͕͇̗̫͈̬̀̃͒̚t̰̦͎ͮ̀͌̉͑ͤ̀h̵̻̻̻͖͊̓͊é̳̃̂̌ ̹̪͔̠̇͂̓͛̾͛s̹̺̦͙̟̭̣ͤͧ̊́́k̵̘͖̤ỹ̶̾́ͭ

He wanted to scream. To cry. To fall to his knees when faced with the utter hatred of this being.

Wish for my release, thing of dirt. Wish it, and I grant you everything you seek.
Its thoughts…its wants…were invading him.

‘No. No.’

Wish it. Wish it, mud doll.

"This one detects foreign bodies in the cell. Initiating the Expulsion Process."

Cool and mechanical, the other voice cut through his discomfort, slicing away the tendrils of corruption reaching into his mind and restoring to him the ability to think, for whatever that was worth.

For before him floated a being so vast and incomprehensible that to look upon it nearly crippled his mind, a being whose very presence spoke of a hatred that outlived the stars. Hatred for humans, for beasts, and for the usurping vagrants who had fled the wreckage of their worlds, drawing the attention of the umbral stars.

Unbound. Limitless. Infinite. Yet caged. And he...he was its only way out, wasn't he?

Remain, human. Remain and wish me free.

"No,” the boy stated. Even in fusion. Even in fusion he couldn’t really—

Ý̘̣͇̘o̴͖̱͕̍̈́͐̅u͊̚̚r̜̪̜̜̲͐̋ ̢͖ͣ̀k̵̙̘̬̱̲̠̪ͩ̾̿̃̇ȉ͎ͮn̸̙͚͑̄͊͗̓̿ͅd̤͙ͯ ̩͙͙̘̭͑͋͋̾ͪ̓̀ͅs̓̇̑̈́ͬͦ͑́t̼͖̭̦̩ͤ͋͊ͣ̽ͫó̥̙̫̙͉͑̆̔̀l͓̏͑̚ ̰̙e̢͇͙̜̓̍ͨ ͔ṯ̫̬̩̞̾̂̎͐͒͆̏̀h͡ë̛͛̾ͦͫ̿͊ ̎́͌̉̒͡e͖̩̼̖͖̍̽̊a͖̣̦̥ͨ̀̆̕r̨̤̦͕̿ͣͬ̐ṭ͑̍ͭh̦̰͐̓͐ͧͅ,͚͙ͦ ̝ ̯̣̟̰̙ͨͯͮp̳̙̜̟i͉̠̘͉̩l͔̥̻̘͐ͫ̏͑̌̚f͓̳͎͙̦̖̝͌͡e͊͆̀r̂ͤͫ̈̿ ̪̺̜͚̟̽̚e͕̮̤̺̠̊d̝̱̒̾ ͌̎҉͍̩̱ẗ̳́ͥͬ͛ͩh̵̥͍̝̙͍͚̝ͧ͐ͥ̈́̋ë́̆ ̱̩̔͋̂͒ͩ̓́m̵̼͙̹͍̰͓̉a̰̩̿̕n͙͎̰̤̭̘̳̒͒̊t͓̲̮̞̲̦l̛ͅe͌̔ͪ̽͐ ̅҉͇̝̯̠͙ ́̏ͬ̏a͎̞̫ͯͯͯ̂͂ͨ͒͢n̢͍͈̹̹͉̳̓̊d̷̙͚̼̲ͅ ͍̆t̻̥͐ͦh̼̤̫ͬ́͜r̼͔̪͖͕̝ͫͬ͢o̹̲̖͔͕̩̽ͬͣ̓͒n̥͍̼̟̰̖͝ệ̸̌̌ ̹ ͔̮̼̘̾͒ͪ̓oͤͦͧ͆͑ͧf̟̘͈ͩͣ̅̓ ͕̻̮̠͈̉̂͒̆̂ͭ̍t͍͗͐̀̓̆̀ḫ̸͉̣͉̫͈ͯ͆̽͛ę͔̰̝̱̜̜̞̓̄̅ͤ͛ ̪̏̅ͯ͆͆ͤ̈́p͉͚̺̺͇̼̘r̬͎̥i̝̯͓͚̖̘̇͆ͫ̚ḿ͈̜̙͍̪͞a͚̮̥̩ͧ̅ͥ̽ͭͅ ̠tͣ̉ẹ͛ͫ͒

The sound drove him to his knees, as the boy screamed inside his soul.

Why?

Why?

R̉͋͋̓͒ͨͮ͒̌ͥ̓͝҉̢̼͈̤͎̦̠̠̜̭̮̬̣͍͙̙̘̘̰͜Ë̎̈́̑ͧ͆͑ͫ̇̐̾̉ ̍ͪͬ ̄͐͏̝̯̠̖̻̼͎̥͙̮͔̭̳͈͢͞Ļ̡̛̻͍͓͔̮̞͓̄͒ͮ̾̕͢ͅE̵͔͆̒͐̏ͮ͡ ̖̦͕ͅ ͈̖Ấ̶̧̰͕̪̙̰̫̖͕̟͍ͫ͐ͧ̆ͮ́ͬ̓͐̚͜ͅS̴̴̽͌ͣ̅ͪ̓̍͑̉ͥ̚͢͠͝ ̙͈̲̺ ̫̟͕͈͇̭̣͎̙̼͚͈Ě̷̃ͣ̔̉ͣ̈́͊̔̽̓͜͟͠͏̝̦͓̪͕̟̺̬̙̯̺͎̼̤̱̜ͅ ̝̹ ̛̰̜̼̗͎͚̳͍ͭ̉ͩ͊̃̽̓̒͒̿ͫ̂ͦ͊͊͑̃̑̕͟M̴̮̺̘͖̹̖̰̹͍͂͂͑̍̐̒ ͔̮̜̬ ͎̖̟ͅE̵ͯ̐͒ͫͨ̌ͪ͝͞͏̴̪͙̼̞̬͚͖!

His body shuddered.

His mind quailed.

His soul trembled, felt as if it was about to tear itself apart from the spiritual pressure of this place. Toxic in its intensity. Oppressive. Like every second he spent here, something of himself would be lost.

"I...I....I won’t. I—”

He thought to move, to run to flee, but—

Matou Shinji screamed, unable to outrun agony’s impulse.

---

Choice 306: What is your strategy for trying to fight the first Jinn?

[ ] (write-in)

[Daiki]

I suggest shielding part of his mind with his partition. That should allow to bear the mental stress for a while. His body should be able to function since he is in fusion form. Whatever strategy you go with, you should be ready to escape in case it's impossible to win. You're still under FF and regen for now so you might be able to get around the Jinn's abilities, at least the worst of it. It would probably be smart to rely on his ofuda as they are efficient against spiritual entities. You could also test his elemental resistances, with water, earth and fire (ring), you might have something to hit a weakness.

[Malorius]

[x] Drink Felix Felicis. Employ Path to Victory.

Duh.

So, if we are unable to act right away because of this thing's overwhelming presence, Shinji can rely on Zelkova to create a Bounded Field momentarily to reinforce our mental defenses and buff with potions.

EDIT. Foiled again!

[alfheimwanderer]

So, if we are unable to act right away because of this thing's overwhelming presence, Shinji can rely on Zelkova to create a Bounded Field momentarily to reinforce our mental defenses and buff with potions.

You already have drunk FF - it is not giving you a hint on what to do at present, suggesting that it, too, has its limits, though it will boost whatever your plan is.

You are currently fused, so Zelkova is not acting independently.

If you were not fused, you would have already gone mad.

[Malorius]

That certainly complicates the situation.

Let's start with water ofuda. Throwing as many draining techniques at this thing as possible. If Shinji judges it to be ineffective tactic, we can attempt to use it for defence only (drain the power from its' strikes).

Guardian program/spell is the key here, I think. Too bad we can't access it. Or can we?

This one maintains the enfeebling aura."

How can we capitalize on this aura? Right now, I assume that it weakens both us and our opponent (proportional rebuff? we certainly can't sustain the same damage to reserves as the Elemental). ...Maybe we can just ask it.

I assume that Shinji drank the Regen too though.

[alfheimwanderer]

He drank Regen, yes.

As will be mentioned in the next snippet, the enfeebling aura keeps the Jinn at around 1/1000th of its normal power, or less. Your strength has been reduced by something like half, since you are not what it was designed to weaken. You do not currently have authorization to modify the settings.

In terms of other things you haven't thought of, I guess you could try to summon a Servant, though whether it will work...? And afterwards, there would be the matter of upkeep.

Or burn one of your Command Seals, which are expendable miracles, though if you run out of those, you're no longer eligible to summon.

[Malorius]

Well, this assessment fills me with hope. The lack of discussion during such an important vote is immensely disappointing though.

[Skull Leader]

Well, this assessment fills me with hope. The lack of discussion during such an important vote is immensely disappointing though.

If you want to talk out a plan I am all for it on IRC channel. But I not at my best in RL (broke my dominate arm) to think about/type out a plan to start this ball rolling. But I still care and willing to do a back and forth on this to hammer something out. But typing is slower now.

The issue is that we need to get creative with our game plan against this boss. It will not be enough to go, ofuda it to death for example.

[Daiki]

Well, I'm on as well if you want to figure out something out. Probably not for long though.

[Haunter]

Hmmmmmmmmmm

[alfheimwanderer]

I'll say right now that if you don't manage to come up with a plan, this will be a bad end.

[Daiki]

Oh boy, here goes nothing.

[x] Scatter anchor ofuda around the cell (so he can teleport around during the fight), use the Sunlight phial as a distraction, while it is confused generate a fog using Shinji's water affinity (so his next set of ofuda does not burn), run around the Jinn placing ofuda to create a weakening / draining boundary field, unleash strong attacks (explosive potions + destruction & crippling ofuda imbued with decay) while the barrier lasts and finish the job with the scythe who has anti-spiritual properties. If the Jinn attempts to remove the fog using a strong fire attack (or just cast fire), use your staff/scythe in order to absorb it and release the charge as a counter.

Feel free to propose something else or some tweaks if you want.

[skulkidcachi90]

[x] Scatter anchor ofuda around the cell (so he can teleport around during the fight), use the Sunlight phial as a distraction, while it is confused generate a fog using Shinji's water affinity (so his next set of ofuda does not burn), run around the Jinn placing ofuda to create a weakening / draining boundary field, unleash strong attacks (explosive potions + destruction & crippling ofuda imbued with decay) while the barrier lasts and finish the job with the scythe who has anti-spiritual properties. If the Jinn attempts to remove the fog using a strong fire attack (or just cast fire), use your staff/scythe in order to absorb it and release the charge as a counter

Good luck people.

[Haunter]

[x] Scatter anchor ofuda around the cell (so he can teleport around during the fight), use the Sunlight phial as a distraction, while it is confused generate a fog using Shinji's water affinity (so his next set of ofuda does not burn), run around the Jinn placing ofuda to create a weakening / draining boundary field, unleash strong attacks (explosive potions + destruction & crippling ofuda imbued with decay) while the barrier lasts and finish the job with the scythe who has anti-spiritual properties. If the Jinn attempts to remove the fog using a strong fire attack (or just cast fire), use your staff/scythe in order to absorb it and release the charge as a counter

Fingers crossed

- - - Updated - - -

[x] Scatter anchor ofuda around the cell (so he can teleport around during the fight), use the Sunlight phial as a distraction, while it is confused generate a fog using Shinji's water affinity (so his next set of ofuda does not burn), run around the Jinn placing ofuda to create a weakening / draining boundary field, unleash strong attacks (explosive potions + destruction & crippling ofuda imbued with decay) while the barrier lasts and finish the job with the scythe who has anti-spiritual properties. If the Jinn attempts to remove the fog using a strong fire attack (or just cast fire), use your staff/scythe in order to absorb it and release the charge as a counter

Fingers crossed

[Malorius]

[x] Scatter anchor ofuda around the cell (so he can teleport around during the fight), use the Sunlight phial as a distraction, while it is confused generate a fog using Shinji's water affinity (so his next set of ofuda does not burn), run around the Jinn placing ofuda to create a weakening / draining boundary field, unleash strong attacks (explosive potions + destruction & crippling ofuda imbued with decay) while the barrier lasts and finish the job with the scythe who has anti-spiritual properties. If the Jinn attempts to remove the fog using a strong fire attack (or just cast fire), use your staff/scythe in order to absorb it and release the charge as a counter

I wonder, if Shinji really is in this artificial dimension/bounded field as himself or as a projection? Which leads to another: how limited our resources really are? Going by the tropes... Can we try, like, to materialize things we are very familiar with?

Like a million ofuda.

(This is an Age of Gods construct, everything is possible!)

Good thing someone managed to create a decent plan, btw. Great job, Daiki.

EDIT. Wait, what happened with using mind partition for protection?

[Daiki]

Fyi this is something we roughly came up with Skull Leader while brainstorming.

As for the memory partition, he is already using it according to Alf, but even with that + Zelkova support, there is a time limit before he falls under the strain.

And yeah, I suspect Shinji won't have ofuda left after this. And since he didn't restock beforehand, it is like that he will have nothing remaining for the competition itself. I highly suggest to use the next free time opportunity to fix that. And maybe the next one as well.

[alfheimwanderer]

Choice 306: [x] Scatter anchor ofuda around the cell (so he can teleport around during the fight), use the Sunlight phial as a distraction, while it is confused generate a fog using Shinji's water affinity (so his next set of ofuda does not burn), run around the Jinn placing ofuda to create a weakening / draining boundary field, unleash strong attacks (explosive potions + destruction & crippling ofuda imbued with decay) while the barrier lasts and finish the job with the scythe who has anti-spiritual properties. If the Jinn attempts to remove the fog using a strong fire attack (or just cast fire), use your staff/scythe in order to absorb it and release the charge as a counter

---

Matou Shinji screamed as the suffering of an entire world flowed into him. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Painpainpainpain! ravaged his nerves, ripped him apart from the inside out, as his nerves, his veins, his very cells were trying to tear themselves out of him, through the thin barrier of his--.

Barrier.

The word was his salvation, with a several layer thick bounded field shimmering into existence at a single thought, and the voices - the pain going mercifully silent for a single transcendent moment of peace.

The respite lasted less than the blink of an eye, for the barrier evaporated the instant the First Jinn turned its attention upon the hastily erected construct - though that tiny window of opportunity was enough for the boy to send his ofuda in every which way, with the slips of paper surging forth not for the Jinn, but for the ground.

"How...?

T͙̙̟͔̟̬͈͐̋̆͐̇̄ͧͤ̚͠h̩̣̞̥͛̈́̏͐́i̛͔̞̝̹̠̥̗̣͔͐ͨ͌ͧͥͯ͛͂s̓̓ ͔̳͇͕̪̭͜ ̵̰̪̹͉͉̜̹ͫͧ̎̑ͧ͜c̍̏҉̭͕̺̙̠̳h̦͈̹̻͆̂̽́̈ä̸̳̗̘̣́̂̑̑̀͞tͣ̍̃ ͖̹̜̙͚̙t̴̡̞̯͚͓͔͙̜͙̂̓͒ͯ̔͜e̵̯͈̜̿̀ͦ͋̄͋ṙ̖͔̖̣͇̠͜i̜̮͖̎́̒ ̻̝̹̘ͅn̩̳͎̯͎̝͎̅̍̇̇͐ͥ̀͟g̴̴̮̜̭͎̫̯̥̊ͪ͢ͅ ̵̱͛̂̓ͩ͗̒ͩ͜p̖̘͉̦̃̊͘r̢̬̠̘̦̞̓ͮ̕i̸̢̩̖͓̜̿͋͌͂͒͠s̨̓ͮ̇̐͒̉͞ ̠̳̱̺̫̞̪͡o̧̯̙͚̭̜̳̩̩̾̉͆͗͟͞n̺̒̿͗̀͆̾ͬ̔͛͝͠ ̵̯̥̬̬͇̗͈̀ͥͧͥ̾̏̐ͬ̑͠͞s̱̥̃ͭ̄͊ͫͣ͒́ͅā̗͓̬̻̔̏̚͞p͑ͫ̄̂ͯ̚͜͡ ̲̲̟͉s̪̤̞̞̥̮͉͕ͥ̉ͤ͑ͥ ̯̹̂ͤͣ̐m̦̬̘͙̻͇ͯ̈̐̃͒͒͒̃̍͟ỳ̱̮̀͜͝ ̲̥ͮ̐̑͊̚͠mͥ͊͗ͧ̚҉̸͈͡i̅̊͐ͮ̐ͣͧ̔҉̴̹̦̟̤̤̠g̨̲̱̮͈͉͛ͨ͢h̄͂ͣͭ ̡̤̦̘̰̗̓ͯ̾̒̈ͅtͥ̓́ͨ̽̒̔̚̚҉͉͙̤̟̬.̸͙̪̗̜ͧ͋̓̍ ͉̜̞͍̝͑̓ͮ̐̓̚ ̴̧̠̼ͦͥ͒̾͗̈B̥̥̯̥̃u͕̙̥̠̪̼̞͎̱̐ͭ͐͗́̕ṫ͓͇͇͕͚͔́͒̈̓ ̉ͅê͈̓̌v̷̲̓ͮ͋͌͌ͦ͘͡e̱͔͌̃ͧ͢͞ͅn̶̶̫̥͇͇̲̹̻̅̔̒̔̈̂̈ͦ̒ ͥ́̅ͨ̀̑̚͘͏̬̟̳͙a͚̙͉̱͛̓̄͊͢ ̙͍̿͠ͅf̶̤̳̱̿ͦ͐̇͗̏̈́ͥr̭̲͍̠͔̳̤̘ͮ̎͛a̬̟̩̭͊ͧͩ̎ͫ͋͂̀c̾̌̋ͭ̈ͫ ̅͘͜͏̼̜̮t̡̫̫̠̖̰͎̃̈͗̆ͨͫ̾ḯ̧̛͈̩̯̪̜̪̲̟̱̓͊̑̈ͬ͊̒͠o̡̭̰͒͊͘ ṋ̠̳͊ͪ̋ͧͣ̇ͯ̾ ̂ͯ̋̂ͩ͟͞͏̫͕͇o̡͓̦̜͕͌̎̍̾͋ͦ͌̾͝f̨̡̗̥͈̲͖͔̼̘̣ͩ̈́ͦ̀ͫͧ̎ ̨̼̥͓̞̗̤̩͍̀̍̋̽̃̅͟m̡̩͙͍̼̣̠̝͉̏̇̇ͤ̔ͭ̕y̢̥͚͓͈̣̥̞̭̑̏̓̏ͣͅs ̈́̌͆ͧ̄͜͏̻̭̜̞̭͕̥̳e̛͎̤̫͖̪̹ͩ̄̅̈͆̊ͬͭĺ̳̳̙̹̭̳͍̞̽͊̅͒̍̐̍͝͡ ͇f̧̣͔̰̩ͮͭ̚ ͕̯̖͖̳̝͎ͭ͆ṃ̤͐͒͟a̟̳̮͍̞̻̓ͭͫͥ̎̓͊̚ḵ̶̼̹̠̓ͬ̏̈̆́͜ëͧ̇̍̈͌ ̶̻̮̘̕s̸̹ͬ̾̆͐ͬ ̶̇͋͏̝̳͓̠͇̻̼̜t̓͐ͦͦ͏̵̩̻̖͓̩h̴͎͙̮̼̟̎̓ͦ̂̅͟e̸͙͕͎̟͇͗ͧͩ̒́̈ ͙̻ ͎̖̱͖̻ͫ̍̀͐̔̈́̚g̗͉͇̲͊ͣ̍̓͂̃͋̔̚͜͢ͅo̢ͯ͂̔͛̊͒͏̻͕͚͙̳ḓ̜́̉̈́͢ ̫̺̹͈̬s̗̩̲̰͂̽͊͛ͤ͂͆͗̚͠ ͈̥̙͇̜̤̐͑ͪ̒̄̆͋̍ͣ͞t̷̢͚̺͍̥̭͕͖̭̾̿̈r̢̛̫̭̓͊ͭe̷̵̻̪̖̤̓ͪ͠m̀ ̵̷̢̜̖͙͈͙͚̝́͛b͖̪̜̦̜̠̖̣̂͋̑̾̈́̑l͉̗̅̾͛̀̾̀̀̎ͥ́e̙̜̿ͫ͒̓.̊͑ ̡̛̳̣ͪͬ̄̂̓.̟͋̋̀͌ͩ́̕.̫̹̾̈́͝


The agony returned, freshly redoubled, with Shinji - now that he knew something that would provide some manner of defense, no matter how feeble, calling on every last ounce of his might to raise an anti-bounded field, aiming to block the mental assault.



I͖̯̭̦͒̃̒͐ͦ͒͆ͥs̮ͤ̏ͦ͋͛̿̇̏̽͢͡ ̡̗ͨͣ̊ţ̟̼̜͚̭͎̭̟͍̌̎͌̍ͮͥ̕ḫ̦͈̱̺̒ͩ̑̑ͫ̿ͦ́i͇̘̊̔͡sͤ̓ͨ̌͐̈́ ̶̢̛̣͖̐̐ ͓͍̃͆̈̀ͨ̂̾ͧ͢͝ẗ̡ͫ͗ͯ͛͏͔͓͖͔͉h̸̨̠̖̻͕̪̅ͦ̈̌ͤͬ͑͠e̢̋͗͒ͧ͋ͭ̀ ̖̯͉̥̘ ͙͚̻̯̣̭̱̘̐ͭ͆ͩ̽ͤ͋ͩ̕͘e̖̼̘̥͍͆̃͗̽̌̈̓ḟ̯̥͔̜ͪͤ͗ͩͩ̍͑̍͘͟͠ͅf ̶̡̖̹͍̼̜̻͈ͧǫ̖̻͔̹̯͙̀̂̎ͩ̋̀̑r͔̙̫͖̙̈́̓ͯ̂ͧͫ̄́ṫ͈̄ͣ͋̏̋̄͒͟ ̭͔ ̷̵̣̮̘̰͓̣̤̠̹͂̅ͬ͆ͣ̑ͯ́ͣ͞ȯ̬̣ͤ͊̌ͩ͛ͅf̣̲̮͎ͦ̓̀͂̀̓̓͒̀͢ ͉̹̞͓ ̷̱̘̥̖͍̭͚̪͛̃ͫ̄̍͆͗͑̆͝͝à̘̼̤̩͔̩̫͗̀ ̵̷̜̖̻̘ͥͣ̅ͪm̴̧̠̹̜͕̞̝̩̒ͭͥe̛͇̤͒̒͘ẃ̵̨̨̦̫̟̜̰̝̪͖ͤͧ̎ͣl̔̐ ̧̠̦̼ͮ̂͌̌ͣ̔͒̀͡i͖̖̰͔̙̻͙̍̐ͭ͊̕n̶͎̯ͫ̆ͦ͗̓̔͛̀g̴͎ͧ̈̾̐ͪ̂ͨ̃͞ ̠͎̲ ̧̗̪͔̖̽̅̉̾̆̐̀̚â͓̱͈͚ͭ̇ͭ͊͞p̘̆͠e͛ͨͩͩͬͨ̆ͤͮ͏͏̟̟̜̟̀?̣̃̄͠ ̮͚̘̜ ̸̺̣̝͖̪̣͓̐ͫ̕Ṕ̜̥̿̈́ͧͥ̋̉͜a̢̭͇͕͇̎̾̂͑͑ͪͭͥ́ț̵͎͓͔̲̉ͧ͊ͯ̌̚ ͅḩ̴̡̩͕̦͋ͥ̅́͂̈ͧ̌e̯̹͙͑̑̓̋̄͊͝t̢̳̘͓̀̽̄̍ͨ̔̓ī̛͈̳̳̗̙̭̕ͅ ̖c͍̮̫͖̬͙ͩ̊̀ͣͅ.̢͚̠̫̬̌́̓̃̒̍̑̓̀́ ̰̻̮ͥͤF͆̏ͨ͌̌ͣ͏̡̻͇͇̪̯ͅr͑͛̌̈͏̡̬̳͍̞̞̺̦͎e̸̛͇̜̱̲̓̐͊͌̽͊̓͠ ͈͕͍̭e̶̢̻̥̦̖͚̫̣̹̔̈ͯ̏ͧͮ̀̐͠ͅ ̵̈͗͋͛̓ͣ͏̗̳̦m̬̙͇̻̲̬̮ͤę̙͎̻̝͚̰͎͕̿,̛̼̮͖̭̲͇ͧͤ̆ͯ̌̈́̆ ͍̺̬͈͋͛͋ͫͅa̺̪̮͔ͧ̎̓̈͆̀̚͞ņ̣̯͕̘̤̠̦͊ͫ͂̽ͣ̂̀̀d̴̿̌ͮͯ͏̰͎̺͉ ̞̝̮ ͙͈͎̍̐͊̆͠y̴̩̞̬̼͇̣͓̓ͩ͢o̖̹̟̥̲̖͎̟ͩ̆ͅu̧͕͍̠̱͚͔̔͛ͩͪ͒͘r̋̌͒ ̡̨̛͚̹̞̦̥̠̰ͬ̈́͆ͪ̍ ̖́ͮ̇͞pͥ̍͗̍͛͊͢҉̘o̦͎̮̙̬͎̟̎̑̏̆̉͡ͅw̷̖̣̫͉̘̦̣̾ê͑̔̋̓̿̎̚҉ ̨̹̖̯͎͎͍̜r̜̞͖̹͈ͪ̽͒͡ ̶͍̦̱̺͍̙̃͂͆ͥͪͬ̓ͅw͖͖̣̥̻̖̺̮̒̑ͬ̆̋̓ͭ͝i͌͒̇́҉̱̗̫l̄̿͌̉̓̽͊̓ ̯̮̦͖̹̞͞l̸̷̰̟̾̊͗̈̉̏̽͗ ̶̢̝̳̞̔͒̓̆ͬ͡b̖̭̯͗͋́̾͂̾e̥̖̳̜ͮ͛͟ ̴̺͔̱̠̓͊ͥͭ̀̔̀̀͠ǎ͕͕̬̥̣̔̄ͩͤͪ̔̚͢ ͫ͒͗ͧͤ̑̓̆҉̣̭̯̣̬t̨̤̩͈̫̭ͫ̈̐ͩ͢h̴̡̦̱̜̄ͣ͑oͣ̽ͩ̏͡҉͇̟̼̼̮͙̬̦ u͖̼̣ͪ̒̀͠s̠̻̝̥̬̬͍͕̉ͫ̓ͮͤḁ̴̫̪̈̄̆̂̌͋̈́͗̚͝n̷̢̠̫͈̥̼ͦ̅̉̆͡ ̙̙d̵͓͚̒̚͟f͚̰̬̘͍ͨͬ͑ͬ̎͞o̜͂̋͌̅l̵̘̼͂ͤ̿͋̓̈́ͫ͢d̗͇͋͋̽̌ͤͫ̚͞ ̜̦ ̨͙̖̯̲̋ͫ͋͋̾̽̏̚t̷̜̗̮͉͖͈̒͝h̲̲̰̭ͧ͐ͩ̎̃̿ͭ̉͡ị̶̴̡̼͎̋͒̾͒͗s ̯̱̞̜̯̼͙̈́̄ͣͮͭ̓ͮ̅̂͜͠.̧͔̠̈ͪ͟ͅ.̵̵̡͓̥̟̜̥ͨ̌̿̂ͦ̀.̢̡̳̙͙̻̇͢ ẁ̸̷̞̳͓̠̆ͪ͜e̬̥̣̘̩̻̩͎̬ͥ̋͑͒̔̋ā̛͚̱̌̑̏̽ͪ͊͠ķ̷̛̝̥͋̃ͪ̾ͫ ņ̏̐ͨͮ͏̱̱̟e̸͙̦̭̘͍̤͚͗͐͠s̨̱͙̳̹͚̹͚̦͔̏̈́̎s̛͇͎̘͑͌͊̑͂͛́̀͞ ͙̪̟.͕͇̝̥ͦ͋ͬͭ͐̒́̀̀



Pain, mingled with the promise of pleasure, its strength overwhelming as it mere presence forced him to his knees, and--

The boy vanished, disappearing from the world into a possibility space blissfully free of the whispers, of the tortures, of the promises and lashes of the angry earth.

'Between. I am...between.'

He realized where he was in an instant - since he could feel the presence of each and every one of his ofuda, their prana - his prana, tugging at him to rejoin them as his body sought to complete the flow-walk.

There were enough ofuda on the platform that he was suspended between them in something like a construct, defined by mind and soul and magic, separated from the world.

'I can hide here. Because this world is mine!'

So he'd had the hubris to think, though that presumption was replaced by ice-cold fear as each of the points of light - the ofuda he'd scattered - faded and vanished from his awareness, and with a undignified squawk, the boy re-materialized within the cell, sprawled on the ground, with all of his anchor ofuda gone.

No. Not gone. Their physical forms were still there, but the prana...

Drained.

The boy cried out as he was launched into the air by a vortex of wind, invisible blades biting at his stony skin like a thousand angry maws as they spun around him, of a spiritual quality high enough that even his fusion form's innate resistance was no defense against it. If the Jinn had wished it, he would already be dead, his life snuffed out before he could do anything to fight back but--

'It doesn't want me dead.'

It wanted him to wish it free, or to use him to gain its freedom, which meant it needed him alive for whatever reason. And if it was handicapped like that, then even he - even he stood a chance.

So the boy thought as he released the power sleeping within his corrupted water ofuda, his decay-aligned prana forming a black fog as it surrounded him, the stings and slashes of the shredding wind fading away as the Jinn's control was interrupted, no matter how momentarily.

Seizing the opening, Matou Shinji unleashed hell, his flashbang ofuda streaming out from his sleeves alongside explosive ofuda, and those of water.

Even those of binding.

'Bind!' he invoke desperately. 'Bind bind bind bind bind!'

But without something to bind, some concept to restrain, his prana could not find purchase on the ancient being, as compared to it - his arts was frail and flawed, the conceptual model on which they were based tattered and torn. If only, if only he knew its...

"Name! What is your name, Great One?!" Shinji shouted at the evil-shaped form too massive to comprehend, the form which nearly drove him mad just looking at it, with the boy flashing from ofuda to ofuda to limit his exposure to its...presence.



Iͥ̓̋̑ͥ҉̦̮̞͖̟͙ ̤̻͓̭͇̪̜̱͒̅̔ͭ̃̄͢͡n͚̝͈̞̘̭̿͗̆ͦͧͭ͜ȩ̟̟͔̎̆ͨ̉͑͜ē̇̔̎͂͛ͭ͢ ̩̱̥̗ͅd̯̔̒̑͐̿̏͋ͫ̆̀͠ ̵̘͉͎͚̲͎̋̋͂̾͌ͨͬͤͣ͞n̼̮̱ͩͤ̈ͧ͟ơ̩̼̬̱͎̻͖͔̈́͋͒ͣͯ̄̀͜ ̶̶̮̦̼̫̮̯̠͐͋́ͅn̵̥̙̖̜̙̩͈͆̇̔ͦ́̉̔̾̕ả̢͔͑ͦͤͥ̓͑̚ṁ̉͆ͮ͂̒͂ ̗͎͔͚̫̿͠e̳̳̹̒̔.̭̪̓̋̊͆̊ͥ ̺̼̝̟̟̥͐̈́̎́͑ͬ̈̅I̱͚̤̲̞̪͉ͣ͋ͥ̀͘̕ ̬̩̱̂̓ṋ̸͉̝̎̌̑͝e̢̝̩̠͉͈̞͊̏̾ͤͪͤê̼̦͚̫̗̯̭̠͒d̢̪̜̠̔̀ ̶̤̠͎̱̻͈̤̿̋̇́o̹̹̟̠̝ͧͫ̑̑͗̚ņ̺̳̭̞͍̱̤̟͉͂͐͂͝͝l̡̧͖͎̝͉̍̃̀ ̝͈y̱̺̦͍ͣͯ̐͌̓͒́ͅͅ ̡̖͍͉͚̣̮̫ͦ̂̈́͌̏̊b͕͍̣͈ͮ̂ͭͮ͐̀̄ͬ̈́ę̢̦̳͈̖̮̯ͦͨͫ́ͣ̄̎̆͜ ͔̘̻



And without a name...

Without some means for his arts to take hold, Shinji had no chance of binding something like this.



D̸̹͚̩͍̀ͫ̉̓͌ͫͫo̸̹͉̜̼͎ͯ̌ͧ͆̀ ͙͍͕̬̺̓̉̒ͮ̈́̔͘͟y̸̜̳̮̬͖ͫ̔ͬ͋̎o̘ͦ̃̓̑̐͗̍̎̀u̸̴̮͔ͦ̀ ͎̙̟͉͈ͩ̋̅̄ͥ̃͂̕ͅt̢̥̗̼͇̝̀́͞h̶̖̘ͮ͌ͣ͑͆͛̑͗i̢̲̞̥͂ͯ̈́̇̌͂͛́͞ ̣̠͓̣̰ͅn̡̖͔͈̬͇͖ͥͩ̃͜͝k̥͙͈͍̣̍̾ͯͭ̂̑̍́ ̵̗͇̬̍ͬ̓̒̂ͫ̈́̌͜t͉̣͔̖̙̞ͥ̑ͧ́ŏ̤̒̀ͪ͐̋ͧ̃͟ ̬̱̮͓̒ͯ̇̓̀̏͒͜͡d̥̯̻̥̗̬̼ͯ̎ͨ͌͢o̗͉̻̣͖̓ͭ͊̆͑ͧ̚͡ ͙̻̤ͥͩ͑ͨ̂͜a̳̦͓͙̣͕̥ͦͥ̽ͧ̃͂̈́̑͟l̑ͪ͐҉̸͓̗̮͎ơ̭̩̙̩̼̜͛́̂ͧ̋͞ ǹ̳͍͕̺͕͉̗͓͑e̴̯̩̜̦ͮ̒̑͌̅͆̀̏̚ ̻̝̞͚̲̘͚̞͔̈͒ͩ̋ͬ̋͂ͬ́̚w̤̭̣̤̖̻̥̓̂͒̚h̷͋̓̓ͤͣͬ̔ͪͭ͏̪͙̤̝͖͠a ̷̢̤̝̼̝͙̑̅ͭ̒ͣ̓ͮͅt͇͓̩̻͓̻ͨͪ̈͐̑̐͗ͩ̚͢ ̝̠̣̜̓͗̓͆̑͟t͈̩͑ͣ̕͞h̼̆̒ͭ̓̌̍̕͠ẽ̵͑ͣ͒͠͏͎̲̰̜̜͈̲ ̸̷͔͔̘̳̰̋͒ḡ̢͚̀o̯͉͚̮̹̳͍̗͒̄̀ď̮̙͙̠̮͒̕͢s̩͇͙̯̾̔ͅ ͈͍͈̻̻̻̈͢c͎͇̬̮̃͋̐ͩ̑̈ͬ̚̕õ͖͙̝̥̑ų͓͕̰ͪ͐̂̚͡l̴̷̂ͥ͂̈́̌̐ͮ ͉͙͔͓̗̰̲̤d̳̝͇̗̯͖͗̚͘͟ ̴̟̤̣ͦ͂̊͂͜͢ṅ̵̤̫͎͎͉̱̀̉ͨͦ̋͊̍ö̤͎͚͇̟͔̹́͋̇ͪ̇̍ͩ͗͟t̨̍ͭ̃ͥ͟ ̲̬͍ ̆ͪ́͞͏̘̱͇̺͉tͥ҉̖̺̼̮͇͖̣̘̥ơ͈͍̞̮̌͗ͅͅǧ̸̻͉͓̱͈̰̦͔̙̃ͦͮ̿͗͡ e̴̛̮͓͖̞̮͔͛͌ͦ̓ͮ̒̑͑̏ṱ̶̹͈̩͎̜̗͑ͩ̌̓̉ͦͫ͒h̴̥͙̘̔ͪ̓̒͗ͭͭ̒̑͘ ͇̭̪e͇͙̟̹̺͒̐ͦ̃̃̇̇̇̕r̡͔̼͈̻͕̲ͣͭͅ?̛̩̳͔̞̌̈́̏ͤ̓̽̏̚



The spiritual pressure around him doubled, redoubled with Shinji materializing his scythe just to stay upright as the Jinn's power, unshaped and unformed, bore down on him, seeking to crush him - to break him.

His consciousness...shattered as the whispers invaded him, magnifying every moment of self-doubt, every feeling of weakness, every time he had cursed himself. Every time that - like Icarus - he had reached too high, sought too much. Every time he had disappointed someone. Every time he had hurt and been hurt. Every betrayal and realization he had experienced in his life, played before his eyes, whispered in his ears, burning brightly in his soul.

He could...he could give in.

He could...he would be...he would be granted power. A wish. A...

'No.'

For in his mind, teetering so close to the precipice of madness, to his utter doing, he'd come across one last memory, which resisted unraveling, shining in his mind like a crystallization of everything that mattered.

The memory of a young woman in a yukata of midnight purple, patterned with the faintest impression of red leaves, held together with an obi. The young woman who carried on her slim shoulders the weight of the world, her purple eyes full of calculation, compassion, and challenge as she looked upon him.

Reach my side, if you can, her gaze seemed to say. My...

Vassal? Slave? Classmate?

No. It was none of those things.

The word on her lips was...was...

"Friend," a voice spoke. He...who was he? He didn't recall it anymore. Why he was here. What he was doing. What did anything mean. All he knew was that she...that she...

Her name.

What was her name?

It....

It was...

Her lips. Her lips were moving, forming a word.

S...

Si...

"Sion!" the boy cried out, clinging to that last memory with all of his might. He couldn't...he wouldn't betray that smile. He...

And in that moment, just as all hope was about to be lost, a miracle occurred, as the chains which bound his mind were broken, washed away by a pulse of purifying light, erupting from his upper arm.

The pressure...the immense power that had threatened to crush him just by looking upon him, was gone. And more than that, he could feel something reaching for him, as if through a fog - someone offering him - a human - power enough to fight this monster, if he only reached out and entrusted his fate to its blade.

His arm throbbed painfully, as he lifted his head and...

Choice 307: What does Matou Shinji do?

[ ] Accept the offer - if there is a chance at victory against this creature, he cannot afford to refuse it, not now
[ ] Reject it - His cards have not yet all been played. Not yet. Even without this other reaching out to him, he can still fight. He can still win, so long as it was he who chose what victory meant.