The Furies are at home in the mirror

[MalfGuy2]

---

Act I

---

So I turned away from the holy Father, my mission renewed

But my brother, Gabriel, still covered in his finest golden raiments, slowly shook his head.

He wished to voice his displeasure, his impassioned love for the mortal world below,

But I could not refuse Father.


So I donned the shaggy, woolen rags & terrible visage of an old leper of a man,

And stepped off the cloudy platform.

A tumble to the world below.



There, I dusted off what little of myself I could, and made way for the nearest human city.

Along my path, there laid an oasis on the sandy, loamy hillsides, notionally providing travelers a respite;

But it was not meant to be.

For a local merchant had fenced off the fresh water, and hired mercenaries aplenty to prevent nary a sip for free.

The contrast between the tired and disheveled strangers,

The well-kept and well-armed guards,
The effective destruction of what the world prior had to naturally offer...



They gave away the past.

So they deserved no past.

---

Act II

---

literally the mountain. teehee

---

The days and weeks and months blend together.
Your sight fails to improve in the traditional sense; But rather,
With the weight of an unseen ritual lifted, you can start poking around those Timestream runes you love eating.
Tapping into flickers of adjacent knowledge becomes second-nature to you--
But it's moreso a matter of luck.

"Can't have bad luck all the time."
"Every weapon is a good weapon."

As you pass by Camino once more, you catch a distant glimmer;
Flower petals dance in the ghostly starlight, as does the phantasmal image of a galleon.
An excellent preview. Your amygdala yearns to use this talent more, even if it's only superficial.
You won't have to rely on your vision anymore if you practice.
Maybe it will reveal something when turned to a Spirit, if anything else in Eternia holds true about Spirit Sight powers.

---

The Mana Crystals, while simply elemental points of reference, yield additional results;
Your magicka now extends to reach out and touch something that isn't even really there.
A mere possibility.
Fleeting instinctive responses.
The animal urge to simply eat, and wait for an inevitable end.
Neural signals failing to reach their intended destinations.
An addictive personality that has no supply.
Your Core, itself, is rebelling, gnawing away at your victims now without your oversight.

"Troubling. Any way to shut that off?"

It's innate.
Immutable. I can't manually turn it off either.
We might decommission before it's regenerated, unless you consume enough.

---

Timestream anomaly detected.
Attempting to return vision to current Timestream...
Attempting to return vision to current Timestream...

---