Post by Lute on Jul 13, 2018 15:15:18 GMT -5
Sullen red clouds churned overhead, sending forth salvos of forked lightning. Lute hanged from the broken pillar of an ancient temple, his arms and feet bound by black chains etched with glowing magical ruins. His flesh clung to a bony frame, pallid and emaciated. He was more yellow than green at this point, withering slowly. The Namekian's eyes remained closed tight, but his will could not be broken. How long had he been dangling like this?
Weeks, months, years?
Time itself didn't have the same meaning here. It seemed to ebb and flow like the tides of New Namek. All around him were the shattered and decaying remains of demons. Thousands of them were strewn high and low. He had killed every single one of them for the secret their master held. They had been fodder. But, the Makaioshin had proven to be a bit clever in the end. Lute had overpowered and wounded him, but the spell he uttered at the last second trapped Lute.
If only he knew the counter-spell to break himself free. Demons were secretive bastards, keeping the nuance of their magic to themselves. Even after studying their ways his whole life, he knew almost nothing.
How could he ever hope of taking down a god with such pitiful strength? The curse of weakness plagued him. He remembered the Super Saiyan Sawba--how strong he had grown in such short time. It was a very sour memory, at that. Lute had followed the brute for awhile, hoping to learn something he failed to understand before. The only thing he learned was that Saiyans were built for power. They were the perfect vessels and had true unlimited potential. It was a tough ability to rival, but Lute wasn't against augmenting his own power with some acquired. Most Saiyans were too prideful for that, a downfall of theirs.
Lute had a bigger picture in mind, a true endgame. The death of the gods and the restoration of the true order of nature. All of it would be wiped from existence. Only the strong would survive, not the favored. People would die and not live out a cushy after life. This would give life true meaning.
There was something interesting about the Demon Realm the more he dwelled on the thought. Lute detected a sinister power seeping into his body shortly after being bound. Dark energy, as he had come to think of it. In the mortal world such ambient power was hard to come by. Down here, it flowed freely, as though it were air. If only he could break the chains, then he could take some of the power into him and use it as a weapon. Had he realized this prior to being shackled, he may have actually defeated the Makaioshin.
He felt something--a presence close by. Someone approached, both of his sharp ears picking up on the subtle shifting of stone and rock. Foosteps. Perhaps a lesser demon? He hoped for a foolish demonic minion that he manipulate into getting him down.
"I know you're out there," he shouted. "Come closer."WC: 462