Home
Epithet
Guild
Jewels
Rank
Race
Experience
Reputation
Class
Magic
Strength
Speed
Constitution
Endurance
Intelligence
Mana
Weapon
Head
Modification
Companion
Zariya stood in the shadows, her eyes fixed on the Lacrima devices flickering before her. The air was heavy with anticipation as a deep silence filled the room. Within said room, the Queenpin prepared to unleash her message. Henchmen stood guard at the doors, awaiting her commands whatever they may be. Her figure was cloaked in darkness, a flowing black ensemble hugging her form adding to the mystique she needed for this night. Her face was hidden behind a sleek obsidian mask that glimmered in the dim light with intricate designs etched into it. For what was to come, she needed to make sure she wasn't noticed, but for those with the means to recognize her alias's, they'd know exactly who she was. The mask was a symbol of anonymity, but it would also serve as a character of unity. A hero of darkness--the Mistress of Midnight. The mask covered her features, save for her eyes which burned with a fierce crimson glow behind, and the mask seemed to float just beneath the shadow of the hood she wore. Ban, Zariya's loyal Exceed companion, sat perched on a nearby shelf, his sharp sunglasses reflecting the faintest of light radiated off of the Lacrima as he observed in silence. He said nothing, but Zariya could feel his approval, his own energy matching hers: tense, electric, and ready to erupt. Ban relished the chaos just as much as Zariya did. For the Vampire, this chapter in her story was about vengeance, and liberation. This season was the season of reckoning, and taking what she had long been owed. Her brother had been hunted by Fiorian mages, and his life had been taken on Fiorian soil simply for trying to build a better life for the people of Skaal. It was for this reason that she had separated herself from her family on all sides, perusing the only thing that mattered most; Vali's Legacy. With a flick of her fingers, the Lacrima activated, and her form appeared on every broadcast across Fiore. The magic laced into the device hijacked every signal in the country--nothing was immune. Lacrima screens flickered in homes, taverns, churches, and guild halls. Even the streets were lined with public Lacrima vision boards, which now displayed her veiled image. She was everywhere. Unseen but present. Unstoppable. Her voice, distorted by magic, emerged low, calm, and darkly seductive, like the whisper of a blade drawn from its sheath, threatening, yet inviting. The Vampiress didn't need to raise her voice. Her power lay in control. "Good evening, Fiore." Her words viscously sliced through the quiet of the nation, as thousands--millions--paused, eyes drawn to the screens as if bewitched by her mere presence. By now, the people of Fiore were no stranger to odd occurrences, and many of them may have initially thought that this was another villain trying their hand at the government, but in the following moments, as they listened to the Midnight Mistress...they would come to understand what set this instance apart from all the others. "I am the Mistress of Midnight." Her introduction was deliberate, calculated. Let them stew in the names. Let them wonder who she was, what she represented. They would come to fear the Sanguine Requiem. They would learn to tremble before the Midnight Mistress. But tonight, they would hear her truth. "For far too long, the creatures of the night have been forced into the shadows, branded as monsters. We’ve been hunted, persecuted, reviled--because the day fears the night. But let me ask you, Fiore, who is the real monster? Is it the vampire who drinks to survive? The werewolf who howls at the moon? Or is it the humans who brand us as beasts, push us into corners, and hunt us for what we are?" The tension in her voice remained measured, but there was an undercurrent of anger as she briefly reflected on what life living in Dahlia was like, a restrained fury that crackled just beneath the surface. She wanted them to feel it. "They fear us, not because we are monsters," she continued, "but because they know we are powerful. They know we are what they cannot be. They know that if we rise, united, we will reclaim what they have stolen from us. What the gods have given us domain over." Her eyes, glowing with an eerie light, flicked across the device. Through the magic and technology that connected her to the entire country, she could almost sense the people watching her. The vampires, the werewolves, the ghouls, the demons, the fallen angels--all those who hid their true nature out of fear--were seeing her now. Their time had come. "They call us creatures of the dark as if it's a curse. But I tell you now, there is nothing wrong with embracing what we are. The darkness is our home. It is where we thrive. The humans, the Church, the nobles--they cling to the light because they are weak. They cannot exist in the shadows as we do." Her voice grew a little more intense, though still eerily calm, like the quiet before a storm. "They use the light to blind you, to make you believe you are something to be ashamed of. While you strike deals with their most corrupt politicians and nobles, making them richer...they push you into the corners of this world, strip you of your dignity, and slaughter you when it suits them. Do not forget Talaz Lagaar. Do not forget the robots who fought for their independence, only to be denied autonomy and met with resistance by those deemed heroes and leaders by the Fiorian government. The same fate awaits us if we don’t fight back. They will burn us, just as they did the robots." A pause. She let the weight of her words sink in, knowing that the humans who were watching would be feeling the sting of her comparison. They knew it was true. Talaz Lagaar was a testament to their cruelty, their willingness to destroy anything they could not dominate. "But no more." Her voice was soft, but it carried a deadly promise. "I say it’s time to rise. We are not the broken, the forgotten, the damned. We are the future. We are stronger than they could ever be, and together, united, we will remind them of that. No more hiding in the shadows. No more bowing our heads. We are the dark, and we will consume the light." The Queenpin's words lingered like poison in the air, intoxicating those who listened, especially the dark races she was calling to action. "I know many of you fear what this will mean, but let me assure you...this is only the beginning. Over the next few days, you will hear news of great accomplishments. Politicians will fall. Nobles will be slain, not for power, but out of vengeance for the oppression they’ve enforced for centuries. Churches will crumble, their holy grounds turned to dust beneath our feet." Her hand gripped the table in front of her, fingers digging into the wood as her voice dropped to a dangerous, almost caressing tone. She knew the effect she was having, knew the fear and exhilaration that were rippling through the streets, through the underground, through the castles and slums alike. "Do you feel it?" she whispered. "That is power. That is what they fear. They will tell you to be afraid, but I’m telling you to embrace it. Embrace the monster inside. It is not a curse--it is your strength. Let them fear us. Let them tremble, because we are coming for them, and we will not stop until they are brought to their knees." Her final words were delivered like a dagger between the ribs, cold and certain. "They think we are broken, but we will show them what happens when you push the broken too far." The screen flickered, but Zariya remained unmoved, her gaze burning through the magic. She knew the panic her message would cause, the ripple effect that would shake the core of Fiore’s power structure. The nobles would scramble to protect themselves, the Church would preach sermons of fear and wrath, and the politicians would rally their forces to hold the masses in line. But it was too late. The seed had been planted. For those who had been watching from the shadows, the persecuted races, the monsters she spoke of--they would be stirred. They would see her as a symbol, a leader they could rally behind. A beacon of hope, not in the light, but in the darkness. Zariya leaned back, her mind already moving ahead to the next steps. Assassinations. Destruction. Chaos. These things would come, but tonight was about the message. Tonight was about letting the world know that the creatures of the night were no longer hiding. They were rising. As the Lacrima powered down, and the broadcast across Fiore came to an end, she removed the mask, letting the cool air hit her face. Ban, who had been watching quietly from the side, finally spoke up. “Well, that’ll get their attention,” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and admiration. “You really know how to put on a show, Z.” Zariya smirked, running a hand through her hair as she let out a small breath. “It’s not a show, Ban. It’s a war cry.” Ban nodded, his golden eyes gleaming with approval. “They won’t know what hit them.” “No,” Zariya agreed, her voice soft, almost thoughtful. “They won’t.” The Vampiress stood up, her body moving with lethal grace as she strode toward the balcony of the darkened room. The city of Hosenka stretched out below her, its lights twinkling in the distance, oblivious to the storm she had just unleashed. But soon, they would know. Soon, the fires would burn, and the darkness would rise to swallow them whole. [1,600/1,600] 20% WC reduction via guild & companion [END] |
![TO THE NATION OF FIORE [PSA] 86545](https://giffiles.alphacoders.com/865/86545.gif)
![TO THE NATION OF FIORE [PSA] Voting_bar](https://2img.net/i/fa/prosilver/voting_bar.png){kind=small}
