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Ragnarök-RP Thread

During the 3 hours, Atalanta and the remaining soldiers returned to the base to regroup. Atalanta personally treated the injured with a stern look on her face, Hank helping her for some reason.

"...Thank you, mute man." Atalanta said.

"Don't mention it. Least I can do. Besides, the guy in the silver armor is paying me to help out." Hank said with signs.

Atalanta said nothing afterward, simply tending to the wounded. "Yo, why are you so upset? Barring the injured and dead, obviously. You were giving David a nasty look." Hank asked with signs.

"....." Atalanta let out a slight sigh. "He's half-assed." She said.

"What... Do you mean by that? He definitely wasn't half-assed in his effort." Hank said with signs.

"I can tell he's half-assed because of the look in his eyes..." Atalanta said, causing Hank to give her a look of confusion.

"He wants reassurance... He wants to feel like he's being useful... Or like he's not a burden... Or like he isn't worthless. Or hopeless." Atalanta said.

"You sound like you know the feeling as well." Hank said with signs.

"...." Atalanta simply remained silent at Hank's statement, "He doesn't care about the people here. He doesn't care about their livelihoods, or their families, or their hardships. He doesn't care about allies, or our pain, or anything..." Atalanta said. "All he cares about is giving himself reassurance. And I hate that." She said.

"He doesn't fight for a cause... Or to protect anybody here..." Atalanta said, Hank simply let out a sigh.

"I won't pry any further." Hank thought to himself as he walked away.

Meanwhile...

Gabriel's mouth shot open as an enormous beam of energy erupted from her mouth, creating a shockwave that launched anybody that was even remotely near her several meters away, carving a large hole in the blizzard that covered Russia, although it was repaired within an instant as the blizzard raged.

"Ah... That's better." Gabriel said.
 
Assuming he was treated with the rest of the injured, David slowly woke up, rubbing his head as he glanced around. He said nothing, simply sat up on whatever he was laying on, blood drying on his skin as he shook his head, trying to clear the confusion from his mind.

Lance watched Gabriel shoot the energy outward, having treated his arm on his own. He was thrown backward by the shockwave, landing several meters away and rolling onto the ground. gasping in surprise in slight pain as he landed on his injured arm.

"...that was quite amazing, Gabriel." Lance commented, standing to his feet.

"Are you alright?"
 
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"No. It's what happens when a mage uses to much power, they get a little messed up, is all." Gabriel said, "Outside of this Lostbelt I usually have infinite mana but since we're limited here... I can suffer from Mana Sickness."
Lance nodded.

"Oh! I suppose that makes sense! Well...I'm glad you are alright!" Lance said nodding.

"I believe Hank and the Wrestler are with the injured, shall we group up with them?" Lance asked.
 
"It's unique to the Archangel class," Metatron said, speaking up. "Remiel, my youngest brother and the one who created the Archangels, was capable of absorbing a practically infinite amount of energy regardless of its amount or nature. The Archangel class was built with the ability in order to defend themselves in case they had no choice but to fight since they were made to provide support to those injured in battle. Gabriel being the Counter-Apoptosis is only the icing on the cake for the ability..." Metatron said.

"Remiel? That was my creator's name...?" Gabriel asked.

"Of your species, yes. Of you specifically? No." Metatron said.
 
"No." Metatron said, "I created no lesser beings... Lesser Angels are like tiny children. They adore you, love you, and follow your every whim. Except for Seraphim, they do it not out of genuine love, but simply because they are biologically inclined to do so. I found that unnecessary."
 
Lance nodded.

"I suppose that could grow annoying after a while." Lance chuckled.

"So do angels consider themselves a...family in a way? The Seraphim are the creators of lesser angels, but how do lesser angels view each other? as brothers or sisters?" Lance asked.

Meanwhile

David, who had grown bored of laying around, stood up stretching slightly as he glanced around the base. He began to walk around the base, wondering if there was something he could help with.
 
"No, that would be the Cherubim, created by my brother Raphael. Their primarily messengers or couriers given Raphael liked to send messages through unfathomably large cosmic storms due to a large case of anxiety... Thinking about it now, I was probably the only one who ever actually spoke to Raphael among the Seraphim.." Metatron said.
 
"........." Metatron let out a sigh.

"Michael was... Amazing. Dependable. Loving. I... Looked up to him, even though I was older than him by far. I believe everybody looked up to how he could always remain... smiling." Metatron said, "David may get a kick out of this, but I was actually the first person he tested the very first wrestling techniques on." Metatron said.

"Jeremiel was... weird, to say the least. He was strong, yes, but no matter what, he adamantly refused to harm anybody. I don't understand how one thing could possibly display affection towards another as he did..." Metatron said, smiling.

"Zerachiel believed in law and order. That was everything he thought about. His Star God, Antares, who the Dominator-Class Dragon is named after, was the one who established the very concept of laws among mortals... And Zerachiel was the one who enforced them. He was strong and stern, but I did see some times where he could display sympathy or care... Despite said moments being incredibly rare."

"And Remiel was..." Gabriel made sure to listen closely to this one.

"He was... beautiful..." Metatron said, "He was young, naive, but he was... kind. I don't understand why, but he was just so... kind. To everybody, really. He would also speak of his dreams for mortals. For them to evolve beyond living on planets. For them to develop and delve into outer space, to develop new technology, to cure their own diseases, and to end their own wars... He would always tell me about his dreams... And when he... He..." Metatron stopped.

"....." He turned into weapon form, remaining silent.
 
"...." Lance remained silent. The tone in which Metatron talked about them, the way that he described them....even though he never met any of them, and never would, he felt sorrow for their passing. and even moreso that Metatron had experienced their massacre. Lance couldn't imagine what it would have felt like, to watch as your brothers were slaughtered before you. He felt shame suddenly, shame for prying into the past of his friend, shame for trying to find out about such a painful memory.

"....I'm sorry, Metatron." Lance said after a while.
 
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Cullthane's gaze turned to the ground, his expression worsening by a lot, good and awful memories coming to him from being reminded of what was before, the burning question of "What's the point anymore" burning in Cullthane's mind once again, the realization that he was... actually enjoying the company of others once again was a shock, it was expected he'd likely enjoy the company of Metatron, but everything else no longer brought him any joy until he found something truly new that he didn't know of...
 
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