Endgame: Part 2

[letsplayamod]

The week goes on. A small miracle, how quiet it is. With no motives or attacks to speak of, you can breathe a sigh of relief even when a tension gripes the air. So few of you now, what exactly would you do were Typhon to return and decide the game was over? Was Athena always going to be out of reach? And what exactly did she want you to find in the center of this mountain temple, anyway?

Questions abound, and no answers.

...Until this morning. The sky itself is clear with very few clouds, but something still falls into your home. Not "physically," though, it's more of a feeling. The sensation of some great power entering this space. Everyone will notice it, and the way it passes by, sinking beneath the floors - all the way to the bottom level.

And there it ends up, waiting for someone brave enough to investigate.

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[letsplayamod]

[The moment Ranma touches it, he's quickly struck by a voiceless call, echoing deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, wrapped in a soft golden light. It's not glaring, but kinder. More expectant.]

What does strength mean to you, God of flow?

[It awaits Ranma's answer.]

[catsgothistongue]

[The sudden voice in his head nearly makes him let go of the wall, but he quickly tempers his surprise and holds it there.]

Strength, huh?

[He echoes nonchalantly, mulling over the question. For only a few seconds, not needing any longer to truly ruminate on it. Many others would describe strength as being able to hit hard and beat whoever stands in your way. Throw their weight around and be able to step on anyone and anything. Ranma would've and had similar perceptions as a child, when he got strong enough at five to actually hurt his old man when he kicked the Pop's shin enough to leave him hobbling and bruised. Good memory.

But over the years, through his own experience, and the one scrap of good knowledge to impart his father had bestowed upon him growing up and teaching him the ways of the arts...]

Strength's protecting those weaker than you, fighting for those unable to protect themselves. I... [His gaze lands on the ground, at the tip of his shoes.] I know I've failed to do that here...

[He's failed too many times here. If he was faster, he could've caught Alex from slipping into the death trap or treat his injuries better. If he stayed out late, he could've helped Aglaea defend Mutsumi/Mortis from Zvei, or find Misane sooner. Hell, if he stayed at the bar instead of hiding in the water like a scaredy-cat, Aoi and Quark would've stood a better chance at fighting Seymour.

All them and every other death here, blemishing his honor as a martial artist and a man.

Yet... It's not his M.O. to give up. Wallowing in his own guilt and doubt's never been his thing. He's got to do what he always does best: get back up. He's still got so much he needs to do. Venture out to space and see Quark's station, challenge Omega to a 1-on-1 match where they can go all out, smash in Aoi's perverted piece of shit face until it's a Picasso replica...

Raging winds can't easily be stopped, and neither can Ranma Saotome.]

I'm not gonna fail this time. [He states, conviction palpable in the air.] We're gettin' our friends [and zvei and seymour, the still bitter part of his brain supplies unhelpfully cuz screw those guys. mostly seymour if zvei's for realsies about being repentant and wanting to improve] back, and no one's gonna stop us.

[letsplayamod]

[There is no joke to this setup waiting for Ranma. No punchline to his honest moment of introspection. Instead, the glyph he's touch glows a bit brighter.]

You fight for your friends, God of Flow. Strength enough for what matters most.

[Shifting before your eyes, the shapes take on the appearance of a swirling combination of wind lines and flowing water. Perfectly balanced. Yin and Yang.

Behind him, the light fades back into the center of the room, and one of the panels hiding the prize slides away.]

[catsgothistongue]

[Oh good. He's been emotionally vulnerable enough in this killing game, his whole life. Ranma relaxes when the voice doesn't cast scorn or judgement, smiling softly as his end of the test is concluded.]