The Three Hundred Year Grudge (Verus)

[Nemesis]

"Vat is zees?"

Farbe, now settled in the Prototype Phantasma's cockpit, adjusted her glasses at the radiant display before her. There was a pulse of light at her waist - and she paused to examine the blood-red philosopher's stone set in the pistol kept in her rear waistline, the brilliant gold of its construction gleaming under the electric lights overhead.

"Symphogear...! Vat luck!" She chuckled to herself - now, she couldn't ask for a better test of her new machine's might!

With a twitch of the control stick, the retreating MT lowered the threatening barrel of its plasma cannon, the barrel tracking the tiny figure's movements. A pull of the trigger - and a pair of blasts were sent hurtling Clara's way, pulverizing apart the pavement as the MT attempted to obstruct her path. Further adding to her troubles was a spray of micromissiles issuing forth from the foe's back, screaming overhead to pulverize the ground between them, turning it into a sea of fire and flaming asphalt.

"...She's up to high doh."

Meanwhile, Grete grunted as she shifted a chunk of building off her body. Lucky she hadn't been turned into roadkill, she thought as she watcher the other two retreating into the distance... and scratched the back of her head with a sigh. Somehow she always seemed to end up falling in with a certain sort.

"Can't let m'self get shown up now, can I?"

With a snap of her fingers, there was a distant roar of collapsing rock. Haltingly, jerkily, the Eligor dropped from the ceiling through a hole. Sunlight flooded the interior of the underground city, a strange light lighting up the interior of the crimson Arm Slave, causing its eyes to glow with a ghostly glare as it lurched unsteadily in the direction of its taskmaster, heeding her call...

 

[Fenrir367]

“Chinnata (bamba) iferih pulei / Lechona (nawa) sowethi anei”​

Clara’s headlong sprint had her honing in on the MT. Despite the difference in size, Clara’s relatively small body had no issue keeping up with the flying machine, closing the gap as the phonic gain slowly rose higher and higher. As the plasma beam aimed itself and fired at Clara’s position, she lunged down low before kicking off the ground and into the air in an acrobatic flip.

“Shijako (shijako) alekhni fatalinya”

ーEXCALIBUR Γー

She looked fiercely at her target, her face a deep scowl as she continued her song. While in the air, she brought her blade around in a sweeping motion, dragging the sword in a perpendicular motion, as the blade grew bright once again, golden particles beginning to emit from the blade. A circular wave emanated off of the sword’s movement, sending outward a ring of light that clashed with the incoming missiles, each struck resultantly exploding in a series of detonations.

“Nih pisha (fali) unhore sile”

ーEXCALIBUR Αー

As Clara finished her first rotation, while the blade was still shimmering with light, she aimed a second arc at the fleeing MT, a second wave of golden energy now on a direct path to the Kraut and her Shrimp before Clara went into freefall, landing back on the ground, and continuing her chase.

 

[Nemesis]

"Phonic gain levels... increazing...!"

Fraulein Farbe watched the seemingly unstoppable advance of Clara with a mixture of horror and fascination - but her hands never stopped moving, making constant, minute adjustments to the controls. One hand pushed her glasses up her nose, as a triumphant sneer crossed her features. Symphogear or not, they were still only human... and humans couldn't fly.

"But, if you zink you can keep up with me-"

The MT's rear engines flared as it began to rise in the air - but at that moment, there was a distant KRAK and the gleam of muzzle flare. A bullet tore, with unnerving precision, through the rear fin of the Phantasma, causing it to sputter... and dip treacherously in the air. Consequently, Clara's crescent-slash smashed into its nose, tearing a pitch black gash down the back of its head, one that sparked and vented flames into the surroundings. The Mulian collaborator grappled with the controls fiercely, eyes wide with fury as she spat a curse.

"Scheiße!"

Grete gave a low whistle of self congratulation for her clear shot. Not that an ancient MT was any sort of target practice worth her kind, but hearing the German's fury was still amusing nonetheless.

"Dinnae how it is where yer' from... but right about now? I'd start beggin' for mercy."

Farbe's response, instead, was the glowing of two machinegun barrels under the head of the Phantasma, lighting up as they tracked Clara through the air. As soon as the Symphogear was in range, the Phantasma would lunge forward, left arm swiping out in an attempt to smash her into a pretty golden pancake against the adjoining, empty buildings.

 

[Fenrir367]

Clara grinned as both Grete’s and her own strike hit true on the MT, the visible damage a testament to the two’s newfound teamwork. As the machine dipped down in altitude, Clara shifted her grip, holding the blade at the pommel in her right hand, winding it back for another strike.

Utrashain aforen zhəkuraswa / Towa ihatosei, ihatosei tsufralai
Utrashain aforen zhəkuraswa / Towa ihatosei, ihatosei tsufralai
Keisha​

She continued her song as she descended, her armor now beginning to glow in the same form as her blade. The incoming scatterfire of bullets - those that hit her - seemingly deflected off her bullet-proof armor, perhaps to the Kraut’s surprise.

Ulilya kozhizhi chachu kaija / Nyame fetsu mekri, fetsu mekri ling ganal​

Her blade glowed once more, the phonic gain now seeming to reach its peak. Her eyes looked fiercely at the machine, filled with intent to finish the MT off, but rather than swing her sword…

Ueri manja khutei araku / Ali laraga chei, laragath yei shindulo​

She threw it down into the ground, the golden dart piercing through the air, its aim centered on the cockpit of the MT.

Or so the Kraut would think.

The blade passed by the ‘head’ of the MT, the blade’s glow barely grazing the machine’s metal exterior, before it continued on its path, crashing into the ground like a meteor impacting the earth. The blade’s glow grew brighter and brighter, before cracks were sent through the earth around it, spreading like a fissure in the ground. Then too, the cracks glowed with a similar golden light to the sword, before countless spears of white light jutted out of the earth, reaching to the sky, aiming to skewer the MT and immobilize the machine.

ーEXCALIBUR Βー

Were the machine still able to swing its arm at her, she would tuck her body into a somersault in an attempt to ‘slow’ her descent, before unraveling and landing atop the machine’s surface.

 

[Nemesis]

As Clara arced gracefully through the air, Fraulein Farbe's features went even paler than usual, coloring her pasty complexion a pallid ash gray. As the onslaught came down, she flinched - but, when nothing happened, unscrewed one eye questionably. A miss, then? She pointed a finger at the Symphogear, crowing triumphantly.

"Ha! Ich habe Schwein gehabt-

...eh?"



With a roar of fury, the spears ripped up from underneath, penetrating the underside of the Phantasma, shearing it apart into a thousand different chunks. For a moment the disassociated pieces were suspended in midair on the blades. Perhaps, it seemed, even aiming to merely disable to ancient machine had been a bit much for it. There was a low, crackling hum - and the reactor detonated, a semi-atomic explosion blossoming before Clara's eyes-

But, at the last moment, a hand swiped out from behind, pulling her into the shade, esconing her in a protective shell. When the light and dust cleared, the surrounding cityscape had been, for lack of better term, reduced to little more than a ruinous crater. Open sky yawned in from overhead. The red Arm Slave opened its hands, the area around it almost an untouched, perfect sphere, having been shielded by its Lambda Driver.

Slowly, the Erigor shook its head, as if in disbelief.

"...Yer real crazy, roundear." Said Grete over the loudspeaker.

"Anyone ever tell y'that?"

 

[Fenrir367]

“Good work.”

Clara had shielded her face with her arm, but after having noticed being within the Eligor’s protective barrier, she relaxed and took a deep breath. The Symphogear began to glow gold once more, this time however dissipating into the air, Clara’s normal clothes returning back. She jumped down and grabbed her sword that had been plunged into the ground. She flicked the blade to the side, dirt, dust, and debris caught on the blade being flung off with surprising ease, before she sheathed the blade back to her side.

“Well I can’t say I wanted things to end in a vivid explosion like that, but what happens, happens I guess.”

She gave a sigh and a shrug of helplessness.

“Though I had hoped the woman would’ve survived longer to tell us where the relic is… You don’t think she’d survive that explosion, do you?”

Her mind hardly seemed to care about what just happened, her focus wholly shifting back to finding the relic. She could feel that they were closer than ever now. The best found relics always had a boss to defeat before finding them.

“While I’d love to spend the next month or two fully investigating this place, there are things that need attending to back out on the surface. You wouldn’t happen to have an idea where this thing is?”

 

[Nemesis]

"If it dun' end in an explosion... It ain't worth doin'."

At this questionable piece of advice, Grete seemed to puff herself up a bit with pride, as though she were imparting a great and valuable expression. The Erigor matched its pilot's expression, with its hands on its hips as it spoke, surveying the Phantasma's wreckage.

"Traitors get what they deserve. That's the law o' the clans, of tooth and claw. Y'sell out to the bluebloods, y'can't expect any mercy."

At her mention of the relic, she nodded along, and offered the Arm Slave's hand to Clara, offering to let her climb aboard.

"Come on then. With Herr Hopeless gone, there shouldn't be anything stopping us."

---

True to her word, the descent was sharp, and rapid. The Erigor darted from perch to perch as it navigated the sunken depths of the ruins - yet the sea beneath seemed to always recede, as though it were being sucked into a great hole just out of their sight, always pulling back to reveal newer depths, newer catacombs, yet which were more and more ancient and less modern with every passing second. The Mulian phantoms, staring off into the distance became less frequent, as though even they dared not to tread the sacred ground upon which the duo were intruding upon.



Eventually, the AS came to a skidding halt, pausing at one of the many recesses in the seemingly infinite descent. The cockpit groaned open, and the Beastwoman emerged, sniffing the air.

"She's got a lot of tricks, The Innocent. Didn' want anyone here, playing with this."

Grete hopped down from the Erigor, leading Clara down a cool, damp passageway that seemed almost as if it were out of an old movie set, only the thinnest sunlight now illuminating their surroundings. She brought a finger up to her nose, giving a winning grin.

"Nothin' that can fool my nose, though. It's top class."

It wasn't long until they reached what appeared to be... an altar, of some kind. Bones, black and warped, lay strewn across its surface, stained dark with blood and cracked with age, surrounded by the debris of what once had likely been a site of great cultural importance. Grete sniffed the air once more, and pointed towards the altar itself - the Relic, long sought, was near.