Were the words I first heard after my awakening. It was cold... too cold. Like warmth would never exist again, and even now I'm still cold. I woke up with no thoughts or memories of who I was or how I got there, as I found out thats how everyone first wakes up. In some field where nobody can see you, on your back facing the gray sky. No memories, no identity. We call the new arrivals Blanks, cause well... they're just blank slates. A lost soul in need of help. Soul is very litteral in this sense. I dont know if we're all dead, but I do know that we are souls. And what separates souls is our color. Everyone that arrives in Arena has a color that determines our appearance and most importantly, our powers.
Arena is an odd place if you haven't gathered. The sky is always gray, the only light comes from an orb in the sky always at a perfect noon that dims at night. Forests made of stone pillars. Mountains that have needle point peeks... literally. Land that breaks, fragments, and splits randomly. Oceans that drop to near bottomless trenches. Deserts of boiling sand. Mountains of scrap metal. All surrounded by a 50 mile high black stone wall carved with images of strange warriors, some souls rumor there are people that live on top of the wall. And it gets worse! Roaming the land are highly dangerous metal monsters. Robotic animals called Synths hunt the souls of Arena to keep their forges running and satisfy the bloodlust of their creator. The only thing more dangerous than the Synth's is the actual souls and the factions that are constantly at each other's throats.
I said earlier that every soul has a unique color on awakening here. Those colors tend to congregate into big groups and factions. There's 6 soul colors: Blue, White, Black, Green, Silver, and Gold. Our soul color determines everything about us, from our powers and appearance to our names. And then there's the Primes. Strength and power in Arena are something that can be directly measured and seen. One of the many strange and unexplained things here is the Prime Numbers. The five strongest of every soul color has a magical mark appear on their left hand. It cant be covered, if you put gloves on the mark just appears on your glove. These 5 of every soul color are called "The Primes", and they get all the privilege. Especially the First Prime. Whoever gets the 1 mark is the defacto leader of their entire soul color, and gets the honor and privilege to name themself after their soul color. The Gold 1 is called Gold, the Silver 1 is Silver, and so on. You get the idea.
I'm hoping this journal will help guide new souls through this strange world. I'm in a unique place to write this book, being able to talk to each of Prime Souls on equal footing. I've had each Prime 1 write a short description of their soul color and history. Its all in the next few pages.
I'm Blue, and this is The Guild
Being a Blue Soul comes with great power and good company if you ask me. We command lightning and wind like extensions of our body. A walking storm cloud. Our names come from the color we're named after and the weather we control, some examples from the top of my head are Gale, Storm, Tempest, Static, Sky, and Lapis. We dont have a nation or city to call our home, none of us have taken it upon ourselves to go start a city I guess. We always off on some quest for ourselves or another. Most of us Blue's end up becoming soldiers, guards, or mercenaries, with a significant lean towards mercenaries. We ended up organizing together amd forming whats called The Guild. A mercenary organization that spans the entire world, taking everything from odd jobs to war contracts. We dont just allow Blues, anyone can join, but The Guild is mostly known as a Blue Soul organization. The Guild has a base in nearly every city, but its main headquarters is in Sanctum. A city in the exact dead center of Arena's main continent. Some say Sanctum is the oldest city in the world, and... the evidence holds up. To all the new Blue Souls's, make your story in Arena your own.
Now to hand this off to the other Primes...
đŹ 0  đ 0  â€ïž 0 · Blue Soul Guide · Alignment in Life; Chaotic Good
Powers; Weather Manipulation, the ability to control wind and electricit
The Name's Silver, and they are The Fallen
I ain't much for words, but i'll give what you need to know. We get our names from the metals, elements, and alloys that make up this universe we call home, and a few of us draw inspiration from myths of devils. A small list of names, Scrap, Rust, Alloy, Lucifer, Steel, Mercury, there's a lot of us so our potentiel names get kinda long. Us Silver's have been locked in a rivalry with the Gold's for as long as history goes back for, so dont expect kind treatment around em. Like all souls, we have a unique ability. In our bodies and through our blood flows what's known as Silver Matter. A solid metal that bends to our will. I've used Silver Matter to create swords, spears, the ammunition in my gun, hells even a pen to write with. There's no substance stronger than Silver Matter in Arena. Its able to he forged into weapons and armor for anyone to use, its also able to be forged into other things...
If you're a Silver you fall into one of two types. A Guild Merc, or a Fallen Soldier. Blue already explained The Guild, so The Fallen fall on me. See the Silver 3 Prime, guy named Blade, wanted to be more than an ordinary bandit clan leader, so he found a god and built a cult and that cult built him an empire. That old bandit lifestyle still fuels the Fallen at their core, they are vicious bastards. They only allow Silver Guild members into their Capitol city Azreal. The Fallen are also the only group of Silver's to use the names of Devil's. Now Blade may be the Silver 3, but he ain't to be taken lightly. He still stands over all but two Silver's, me being one. He's also able to go toe to toe with the Gold 1 himself, although good luck getting Gold to admit that. Now about that god The Fallen worship...
You're probably wondering... If I'm the Silver 1, and Blade's the Silver 3... where's the Silver 2? He's made himself a mythology figure in Arena. Calls himself The Forger, and he's the creator of the Synths. His own army of robot war machines at his beck and call. He secluded himself in a cave in the Scraplands to focus on his plans to whip out all life in Arena. Real pleasant guy if you couldn't tell. The Synths are made from his Silver Matter and powered using his blood. Synths are the most dangerous threat to wanders and mercenaries in the wild, but if you're good with a blade there is plenty of money to be made hunting them.
đŹ 0  đ 0  â€ïž 1 · Silver Soul Guide! · Alignment in Life; Chaotic Neutral
Powers; The creation and control over Silver Matter. Silver Matter
My name is Emerald, and we are the Guard.
I know Blue already said it but, welcome to Arena. I wish you luck. If you are a Green Soul it is important to understand what powers we have been given. Green Souls have the unique ability of corrosion. From our hands we can create the most potent acid in Arena, capable of eating through solid silver steel in seconds. We also can make an acid fog that decays whatever is unfortunate enough to come into contact with it. Finally, while rare, some Green Souls are able to create a brilliant Green flame that burns through matter faster than it can be repaired. I'm exaggerating a bit but... you get the idea. Our names are simple, they call back to our soul color and corrosion power, some of my old friends went by Hazel, Veridian, Chloric, Olive, and Oxalic. If those names sound fun, feel free to use them.
Green Souls don't have a home of our own in a traditional sense. While the Silver's built Asreal, Gold's built Dorado, and Blue's created The Guild, us Green's set up shop in the unclaimed neutral territory in central Arena around Sanctum. Nobody makes claim to Sanctum, and the surrounding towns and cities, and for the longest time they were lawless where only the strong survived. So we established order, a rule of law. We still don't make claim to the cities, but someone had to protect the people that lived there from each other. The Guard isn't very organized... every town has their own ideas on how laws and punishment should work, mostly based on morality but you get the occasional greedy town guard every once in a while. If guard life isn't your stromg suit, you can also be a merchant, or a regular civilian working in your town. This life is yours to live, I won't pressure you into a path. Good luck friend.
I am Mistress White, and we are The Monarchs.
For a moment i considered turning Blue down, but this journal may yet bring more White Souls to my door. As White Souls we have been given the unique power over water, ice, and the cold itself. Able to flow water through the air like blood flows through our veins, forge weapons of ice with a snap of out fingers, and create hail and snow with little more than a clap. As such our names derive from the color of our soul and the domain of our powers. If you want inspiration, future Monarch, here are the names of my most trusted Primes; Alabaster, River, Arctic, and Ivory. Of course feel free to get creative, it may give you an edge.
I created us a kingdom high up in the Needle Point Mountains known as The Spire of Glass, from there we can sit above the other souls and control them for our benefit. The Souls of Arena bind themselves into towns and kingdoms with laws and rules, the only law that truly matters is that wealth and power rule over all, and that is what the Monarchs of the Spire live by. Sanctum, The Fallen, Dorado? They all exist for us to exploit. You want respect as a Monarch? Take it. Otherwise you'll be scrounging in the mud like the rest of the Souls in Arena.
I am Emperor Gold, and welcome to the Dorado Empire.
Newly awoken Gold Soul I am honored to welcome you to the greatest empire in Arena, Dorado. In the copper dunes to the east our great capital has stood for untold ages, history thicker than blood, and now you may place your mark in its hallowed pages. As Gold Souls, a special liquid metal lives within our very beings, flowing through our blood is the liquid Gold Matter. This substance can flow freely from our bodies and solidify into any shape necessary, it is flexible, light, and sturdy. The Silver Souls may possess a similar power, but our Gold Matter is not cold and lifeless, it breathes as we do. Your identity as a Gold Soul will determine your potential here in our empire, we shall start with your name. As the largest type of Soul by population, our naming convention is broad and loose. Words that harken back to our Gold Matter, words of divinity or myth, words that bring to mind the power of light itself, and for the more traditional the use of words related to shades of gold, yellow, and luster are used. I have curated a small list of examples names for inspiration; Marigold, Uri, Icarus, Bronze, Luster, Dandelion, Shine, and Angel.
As a citizen of Dorado you are protected by the largest army in all of Arena. Our soldiers stand ready to defend our capital and towns from the ravenous Fallen hoardes. Dorado's empire stands as the most technologically advanced society in all of Arena, our great engineer Icarus while under my command and supervision has developed living machines to combat the Synths. Using Gold Matter and complex clockwork gears we have created our own living machines known as The Constructs. These wonderous machines can be used to defend towns, and aid villages with maintenance. The future is bright young Gold Soul, join us in the grand empire and swear your undying allegiance to me.
I am Black.
I'm going to keep this short. Our power is corruption, we have a black matter that eats away and absorbs anything we want it to, including people's minds, bending them to our control. Try to pull a name from that if you must. The rest of Arena fears us. They should. Only the strong survive in arena. The other souls build castles and kingdoms for their gain and ego, while we rips them down to make ourselves stronger. They cant challenge us, only we can make ourselves better by fighting. Over the cycles I have accumulated a following, a small army who fights and kills by my orders. The others call us The Shade, I find the name unamusing. To put a name to a wild beast... only lessons the fear when it kills you. You can join me, or go your own way. I do not care.
I would have ripped Arena apart by now... but us Black Souls are rare. The lowest by population. I once reduced the Fallen to nothing but a few holdout, forced the Monarchs into hiding, and breathed down the gates of Dorado... then Blue came. The first time I have ever been evenly matched... I respect him, truthfully. So when he constricted my hunting grounds to the most southern region of Arena, I listened. Because he found me a much stronger foe to face than anything else.
I am Cobolt... and we are the Hybrid Souls...
Blue is my most trusted friend, and I question his decision to have me write this entry but... I trust his judgment. There is not much to say about us Hybrids, in total I'd believe there to be only a few hundred of us. When the Black Souls numbers are in the thousands and Gold Souls potential in the hundreds of Millions... we are few and far between. We exist in a state between two colors, I am somewhere between Blue and White. I'm able to control the lightning and ice of both, but not the wind and water strangely. Another hybrid I know amd trust is named Gilded, he sits between Gold and Black. I do not know what creates us or why, I have my theories, but I will save them for later.
We have no claim, no community, no connection to the primary soul colors that we draw power and blood from. The factions see us as abominations to be ignored, and the neutrals do not trust us. But that can change. We can build our own place in this world together. Peace is a slow process, but for everyone that chooses to make change, it goes faster.
Its fun watching them cling to hope, isnt it? Hoping this journal will help some new soul adjust to this world... Things always go the same around here. People arrive, they find an identity and a place to belong, and then they die in some gruesome horrible fasion only to be brought back with no memories of what happened. Cycles always go the same. We make sure of that. Who are we? We are the wardens of this hell. The chosen few to retain our memories and do Death's will. And I am their leader.
I am The Ghost, and we are the Red Legion!
Around Arena you'll hear whispers of a mythical Red Soul that brings only death and destruction. Oh well are more than just myth, we are very real. But why tell you this? I could tell you the secrets of this world, that this is the afterlife and you are dead, I could that the last person standing will be reincarnated, maybe i could say that injecting our blood into your vains will give you special powers, I could also tell you that at the most southern point of Arena is a bridge that leads to a gate, that will take you directly to the land of the living again. But who's going to believe you? Good luck little soul.
Welcome to the out of character section!
Hi I'm Ravanna the blog Runner! (Over 18)
I created Arena originally for a d&d campaign, but have now expanded it into a large roleplay setting and writing project. You can create an oc to interact with Arena if you'd like, or just send each of the characters annon asks for them to answer. Or ask me worldbuilding questions you'd like answered! Currently I'm working on posts going into each of the Prime's backstories and character designs. I'd love to interact with people and see which characters gain popularity!
@variousvossivixens One of their characters is an AU version of The Forger, but all the world building is still exactly the same
@pixopix made the dividers I used, so giving them credit
The little silver soul had stayed on his back for a long time, staring at the sky as if it could tell him who he was, where he was, or what was going on. None of the answers were given, nor did he ask the questions.
When he eventually got up and found himself alone, he chose a random direction and started walking.
( @theexistance)
The sky was a dead cold gray, smudged with pale whispy clouds. The ground is loose like sand and covered with a layer of gray grass. The Silver Soul is wearing a gray shirt and pants with pale blue wire designs running down their arms and legs.
They keep walking for hours and hours across thr field until something in the distance catches their attention. A wagon carrying the bodies of dead robotic animals slowly rolls across a path in the dirt, surrounded by a band of people in armor. Someone in the caravan stops and waves down the Silver Soul, the wagon coming to a stop along side them.
A man from the wagon walks over to the Silver Soul, his hands in the air. "Ey' there Blank!" The man calls out. He wears armor of welded plate metal and a sword around his waist. "Walk with us 'kay?"
The man looks over the Blank silver as they make it back to the wagon. "Welcome to Arena Blank. I'm Iron." He hands the Blank a small bottle of a thick gray liquid. He motions to a larger beared man pulling the cart. "Thats Zinc, he's a softie inside." He then points to a person off to the side with a mask and gun, "Scary one is Irridium, our body guard. We're all Silver Souls like you." He doesnt really elaborate further, but he does seem genuine and kind. Looking around the Silver notices another figure in front of the caravan with their back turned and holding a bow.
This figure is of course what catches the soul's interest. They point to the figure at the head of the caravan, giving the man a questioning expression.
Iron nods slowly. "Thats Silver." His voice is mixed with fear and respect. "Be sure to show her some respect Blank, she's the strongest of us all." As they talk, Silver turns to look at the group. Iron turns away and clears his throat. "Course, you wouldn't know that now.... grab a seat in the wagon, i'll give you the basic rundown of Arena while we walk back to the city." Iron moves the severed head of a metal bird out of the way so the blank soul can have a place to sit. "Might as well start with what you are... you're a blank, a new arrival here. We all were blanks at some point, but we find our place eventually. You'll earn a name for yourself soon enough. I got my name Iron from how thick my skin is." He chuckles.
They nod along, paying close attention to everything that Iron said, though they are still focused on Silver. Eventually, they tear their eyes away from the leader and focused on the wagons themselves. They reach out to cautiously touch the severed metal bird head, frowning.
The bird head stares back at the Blank, its dead eyes empty voids. Iron's voice pulls their gaze back up. "These things are called Synths. Metal monsters that only exist for killing, see us as fuel for their systems. One you're looking at is a Spark Wing, a weaker thing, mostly just collects blood from people." He nods to the man in front of the cart, Zinc, and the cart starts moving as he pulls it. "We're heading to a big city called Sanctum to sell these machines for parts. Sanctum's a good place for Blanks like you. Plenty of jobs and information." Iron takes a bottle from his belt and takes a long swig, it smells strongly of alcohol. "Want some?" He offers out the bottle.
The blank shrugs and takes the bottle, spitting out the spit they took a moment later, coughing. They shove the bottle back at Iron, giving him a look of betrayal. They really did not remember what the smell of alcohol meant. It hadn't played a big enough part while they were still alive to mean anything now.
They give the Spark Wing one more pat, then retract their hand, staring ahead again. After a bit, they hop off the wagon, seemingly bored of whatever company they had been offered.
"Hey whoa!" Iron gently grabs the Blanks shoulder. "Dont go wondering off! Arena's dangerous, bandits and Synths everywhere. You just got here, it'd be a shame to loose ya so quick." He pats them on the shoulder as if to reassure them. "Never go out on your own unless you're equipped to!"
They stare longingly out across the field that to them looked so inviting. So vast and unknown. Then nod, and walk along side the wagon, unwilling to bother Zinc about stopping it again.
The wind blows gently across the fields, the air feeling icy cold. The sound of the wheels turning with the axle and across the ground are the only sounds apart from the boots of the people. The silence feels endless.
A metallic snarl like grinding gears echoes across the wind. The caravan stops amd everyone draws their weapons.
"Damn wolves." Zinc curses.
"Focus damnit." Iridium yells.
Iron steps in front of the Blank, his warhammer raised defensively. "Stay behind me." He looks back to check on them, just long enough to not see a giant metal wolf leap from the grass and lock its jaws around his head. Iron doesn't get a chance to scream as metal jaws crush his skull, silver blood like mercury spurts and sprays, covering the blanks clothes. The metal wolf leaps for the Blank but an arrow flies through its skull knocking its body to the ground.
Silver runs to the Blank's side. "You hurt?" She asks looking them over. "You know how to fight?" She asks while flakes of metal form into her palm and into a long sword she offers to the Blank.
The Blank stares at Iron, wide eyes trying to take and and compriend what had happened so quickly. Perhaps they should have left. They never would have known these people and never watched that happen. They look down at their clothing, then up at silver.
"No, ma'am, but I can try."
Their voice which they simply hadn't bothered to use before, seemed to drag it's way from their mouth like an unwilling child. They spoke slowly and with intent.
She throws the sword into the back of the wagon, and hands the Blank a revolver from her hip. "Shootings easy, point at the thing and pull the trigger. You miss, you die." She says bluntly. Her voices catches as she turns back to the Blank. "So... dont miss, and don't hit any of us." She turns back to the field of grass, the metallic snarls still moving through the tall weeds.
"Got one!" Zinc yelled firing into the grass, in less than a second a smaller wolf pounced. Its massive claws tore through Zinc's leg, silver blood spurting out from the wound. Zinc shoved his rifle into the wolf's jaws, screaming in pain and effort for help.
The Blank points the revolver at the wolf, but frowns, worried that they will hit Zinc. So instead, they focus on the wolf itself. On the porus darkness they saw inside it. Finding the weakspots where the emptyness was greatest. Then they pulled the trigger. Though all this happened very quickly from the outside, where others saw only a moments hesitation before the kill.
"Its Silver." She says, running a steel spike through a wolf's skull. "Cause their machines built only to kill." Her explanation is short, but rather to the point. A shield appears in her arm that she uses to bash a leaping wolf out of the air and onto the ground
The final wolf falls dead as Silver's spear runs through its skull. She lets out a heavy breath amd looks around. "Anyone else hurt?" She yells out at the others.
"Damn dog got my leg!" Zinc yells in pain. He sat collapsed against the caravans wheel.
"Bite wound or claw?" Silver asks assessing him.
"Claw-"
"You'll live." She says coldly handing him a small syringe. Zinc scoffs at her and takes the needle, popping the cap off and injecting its liquid directly into his wound. The blood stopped flowing in a second as his wound started to stitch itself back together and grow new skin.
Irridium stands next to the Blank, looking down at Iron's body. They dont say anything, just tapping their fist over their heart.
Silver looks at the Blank. "What about you? You get hurt in the fight?"
The blank stares, taking everything in. Watching Zinc's wound heal itself with clear curiosity. They turn to Silver when she asks. They look down at themselves. One of their sleeves is ripped as if by claws, but there is no blood.
"I don't think so," they answer with a shrug. They hadn't even noticed at the time that one of the wolves had managed to claw them.
She grabs a syringe from her bag and hands it to them. "Better safe than sorry. Its a blood stim, heals all wounds." She explains, nodding her head back at Zinc. "Lets load Iron's body onto the cart and get moving... when there's a pack of Wolves there's always worse to follow."
They stare at her, then the syringe, then at their arm, and finally they roll up their sleeve and stab the needle into the darkness that had formed over the scratches. As with Zinc, the wounds close up quickly.
They offer her the syringe, ready to go back to the march.
"Keep it, draw some blood later incase you gdt hurt again." She lifts and places Iron's body into the back of thr caravan. Her gaze flicks between Iron's body and the Blank. She takes a small necklace off Iron's body and hands it to the Blank. "There's uh... a tradition in Arena. If someone dies, you can take their name. You cant stay a blank forever..."
"Take his name?" They whisper, their eyes full of worry as they take the necklace and clutch it to their chest. "Won't he be lost without a name? Can't he have it back? Won't he come back? He's not gone is he? Not forever?" They stare at his body like a small child just figuring out the concept of death.
The little silver soul had stayed on his back for a long time, staring at the sky as if it could tell him who he was, where he was, or what was going on. None of the answers were given, nor did he ask the questions.
When he eventually got up and found himself alone, he chose a random direction and started walking.
( @theexistance)
The sky was a dead cold gray, smudged with pale whispy clouds. The ground is loose like sand and covered with a layer of gray grass. The Silver Soul is wearing a gray shirt and pants with pale blue wire designs running down their arms and legs.
They keep walking for hours and hours across thr field until something in the distance catches their attention. A wagon carrying the bodies of dead robotic animals slowly rolls across a path in the dirt, surrounded by a band of people in armor. Someone in the caravan stops and waves down the Silver Soul, the wagon coming to a stop along side them.
A man from the wagon walks over to the Silver Soul, his hands in the air. "Ey' there Blank!" The man calls out. He wears armor of welded plate metal and a sword around his waist. "Walk with us 'kay?"
The man looks over the Blank silver as they make it back to the wagon. "Welcome to Arena Blank. I'm Iron." He hands the Blank a small bottle of a thick gray liquid. He motions to a larger beared man pulling the cart. "Thats Zinc, he's a softie inside." He then points to a person off to the side with a mask and gun, "Scary one is Irridium, our body guard. We're all Silver Souls like you." He doesnt really elaborate further, but he does seem genuine and kind. Looking around the Silver notices another figure in front of the caravan with their back turned and holding a bow.
This figure is of course what catches the soul's interest. They point to the figure at the head of the caravan, giving the man a questioning expression.
Iron nods slowly. "Thats Silver." His voice is mixed with fear and respect. "Be sure to show her some respect Blank, she's the strongest of us all." As they talk, Silver turns to look at the group. Iron turns away and clears his throat. "Course, you wouldn't know that now.... grab a seat in the wagon, i'll give you the basic rundown of Arena while we walk back to the city." Iron moves the severed head of a metal bird out of the way so the blank soul can have a place to sit. "Might as well start with what you are... you're a blank, a new arrival here. We all were blanks at some point, but we find our place eventually. You'll earn a name for yourself soon enough. I got my name Iron from how thick my skin is." He chuckles.
They nod along, paying close attention to everything that Iron said, though they are still focused on Silver. Eventually, they tear their eyes away from the leader and focused on the wagons themselves. They reach out to cautiously touch the severed metal bird head, frowning.
The bird head stares back at the Blank, its dead eyes empty voids. Iron's voice pulls their gaze back up. "These things are called Synths. Metal monsters that only exist for killing, see us as fuel for their systems. One you're looking at is a Spark Wing, a weaker thing, mostly just collects blood from people." He nods to the man in front of the cart, Zinc, and the cart starts moving as he pulls it. "We're heading to a big city called Sanctum to sell these machines for parts. Sanctum's a good place for Blanks like you. Plenty of jobs and information." Iron takes a bottle from his belt and takes a long swig, it smells strongly of alcohol. "Want some?" He offers out the bottle.
The blank shrugs and takes the bottle, spitting out the spit they took a moment later, coughing. They shove the bottle back at Iron, giving him a look of betrayal. They really did not remember what the smell of alcohol meant. It hadn't played a big enough part while they were still alive to mean anything now.
They give the Spark Wing one more pat, then retract their hand, staring ahead again. After a bit, they hop off the wagon, seemingly bored of whatever company they had been offered.
"Hey whoa!" Iron gently grabs the Blanks shoulder. "Dont go wondering off! Arena's dangerous, bandits and Synths everywhere. You just got here, it'd be a shame to loose ya so quick." He pats them on the shoulder as if to reassure them. "Never go out on your own unless you're equipped to!"
They stare longingly out across the field that to them looked so inviting. So vast and unknown. Then nod, and walk along side the wagon, unwilling to bother Zinc about stopping it again.
The wind blows gently across the fields, the air feeling icy cold. The sound of the wheels turning with the axle and across the ground are the only sounds apart from the boots of the people. The silence feels endless.
A metallic snarl like grinding gears echoes across the wind. The caravan stops amd everyone draws their weapons.
"Damn wolves." Zinc curses.
"Focus damnit." Iridium yells.
Iron steps in front of the Blank, his warhammer raised defensively. "Stay behind me." He looks back to check on them, just long enough to not see a giant metal wolf leap from the grass and lock its jaws around his head. Iron doesn't get a chance to scream as metal jaws crush his skull, silver blood like mercury spurts and sprays, covering the blanks clothes. The metal wolf leaps for the Blank but an arrow flies through its skull knocking its body to the ground.
Silver runs to the Blank's side. "You hurt?" She asks looking them over. "You know how to fight?" She asks while flakes of metal form into her palm and into a long sword she offers to the Blank.
The Blank stares at Iron, wide eyes trying to take and and compriend what had happened so quickly. Perhaps they should have left. They never would have known these people and never watched that happen. They look down at their clothing, then up at silver.
"No, ma'am, but I can try."
Their voice which they simply hadn't bothered to use before, seemed to drag it's way from their mouth like an unwilling child. They spoke slowly and with intent.
She throws the sword into the back of the wagon, and hands the Blank a revolver from her hip. "Shootings easy, point at the thing and pull the trigger. You miss, you die." She says bluntly. Her voices catches as she turns back to the Blank. "So... dont miss, and don't hit any of us." She turns back to the field of grass, the metallic snarls still moving through the tall weeds.
"Got one!" Zinc yelled firing into the grass, in less than a second a smaller wolf pounced. Its massive claws tore through Zinc's leg, silver blood spurting out from the wound. Zinc shoved his rifle into the wolf's jaws, screaming in pain and effort for help.
The Blank points the revolver at the wolf, but frowns, worried that they will hit Zinc. So instead, they focus on the wolf itself. On the porus darkness they saw inside it. Finding the weakspots where the emptyness was greatest. Then they pulled the trigger. Though all this happened very quickly from the outside, where others saw only a moments hesitation before the kill.
"Its Silver." She says, running a steel spike through a wolf's skull. "Cause their machines built only to kill." Her explanation is short, but rather to the point. A shield appears in her arm that she uses to bash a leaping wolf out of the air and onto the ground
The final wolf falls dead as Silver's spear runs through its skull. She lets out a heavy breath amd looks around. "Anyone else hurt?" She yells out at the others.
"Damn dog got my leg!" Zinc yells in pain. He sat collapsed against the caravans wheel.
"Bite wound or claw?" Silver asks assessing him.
"Claw-"
"You'll live." She says coldly handing him a small syringe. Zinc scoffs at her and takes the needle, popping the cap off and injecting its liquid directly into his wound. The blood stopped flowing in a second as his wound started to stitch itself back together and grow new skin.
Irridium stands next to the Blank, looking down at Iron's body. They dont say anything, just tapping their fist over their heart.
Silver looks at the Blank. "What about you? You get hurt in the fight?"
The blank stares, taking everything in. Watching Zinc's wound heal itself with clear curiosity. They turn to Silver when she asks. They look down at themselves. One of their sleeves is ripped as if by claws, but there is no blood.
"I don't think so," they answer with a shrug. They hadn't even noticed at the time that one of the wolves had managed to claw them.
She grabs a syringe from her bag and hands it to them. "Better safe than sorry. Its a blood stim, heals all wounds." She explains, nodding her head back at Zinc. "Lets load Iron's body onto the cart and get moving... when there's a pack of Wolves there's always worse to follow."
They stare at her, then the syringe, then at their arm, and finally they roll up their sleeve and stab the needle into the darkness that had formed over the scratches. As with Zinc, the wounds close up quickly.
They offer her the syringe, ready to go back to the march.
"Keep it, draw some blood later incase you gdt hurt again." She lifts and places Iron's body into the back of thr caravan. Her gaze flicks between Iron's body and the Blank. She takes a small necklace off Iron's body and hands it to the Blank. "There's uh... a tradition in Arena. If someone dies, you can take their name. You cant stay a blank forever..."
In a field, a small blue soul sat still, looking around in curiosity.
They were short, chin tucked up in a thick sweater, bandages coating their legs. Honestly, if anyone were to look, their first thought would be: child.
The Soul continues to sit, braiding strands of grass absentmindedly, as if waiting for this new world to greet them.
~ đŒ
The cold air bites at their skin as the wind blows through the plains. There's no noise other than the wind whistling through the gray grass. No birds singing. No rodents skittering. No animals stalking. Its... uncanny... like something deep down inside them was saying this was wrong but there was nothing to suggest anything actually was wrong.
The soul sits in silence, until off in the distance just past a hill there's a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder no less than half a second apart. A faint green glow spills up from beyond the hillside as smoke rises. And just faintly, carried on the wind is the chatter of people.
The blank jumps to their feet, already starting to walk towards the hill. They had a determined expression as they trudged through the gray shades of grass and dirt.
The child had no real choice, but to carry on. Something awaited them. Their hands cup over their eyes, trying to find the source of the conversation.
Reaching the top of the hill they see a small group of people gathered at its base around a glowing green campfire. Two men and a woman it seemed. They sat around making light conversation while drinking amd eating. Sitting at the edge of the camp were their weapons.
The woman blinks in confusion and nods slowly. "Uh yeah..." She looks over at the other two. A blue soul with a mask over the lower half of his face, and another man in heavy plate armor.
The blue soul offers a seat next to him. "Hey Blank..."
The three look between each other, not sure what to say. The man in plate armor grunts and stands. "Going to look around." He says, his voice is low and harsh.
The blue soul sighs and turns towards the Blank. "Let me guess, woke up in a field, no memories, no idea who you are?"
In a field, a small blue soul sat still, looking around in curiosity.
They were short, chin tucked up in a thick sweater, bandages coating their legs. Honestly, if anyone were to look, their first thought would be: child.
The Soul continues to sit, braiding strands of grass absentmindedly, as if waiting for this new world to greet them.
~ đŒ
The cold air bites at their skin as the wind blows through the plains. There's no noise other than the wind whistling through the gray grass. No birds singing. No rodents skittering. No animals stalking. Its... uncanny... like something deep down inside them was saying this was wrong but there was nothing to suggest anything actually was wrong.
The soul sits in silence, until off in the distance just past a hill there's a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder no less than half a second apart. A faint green glow spills up from beyond the hillside as smoke rises. And just faintly, carried on the wind is the chatter of people.
The blank jumps to their feet, already starting to walk towards the hill. They had a determined expression as they trudged through the gray shades of grass and dirt.
The child had no real choice, but to carry on. Something awaited them. Their hands cup over their eyes, trying to find the source of the conversation.
Reaching the top of the hill they see a small group of people gathered at its base around a glowing green campfire. Two men and a woman it seemed. They sat around making light conversation while drinking amd eating. Sitting at the edge of the camp were their weapons.
The woman blinks in confusion and nods slowly. "Uh yeah..." She looks over at the other two. A blue soul with a mask over the lower half of his face, and another man in heavy plate armor.
The blue soul offers a seat next to him. "Hey Blank..."
The three look between each other, not sure what to say. The man in plate armor grunts and stands. "Going to look around." He says, his voice is low and harsh.
The blue soul sighs and turns towards the Blank. "Let me guess, woke up in a field, no memories, no idea who you are?"
A white soul had spawned in a few days ago. Blank, aimless, wandering through the Arena. It doesnât know who, what, where it is.
It only really understands that this near-grayscale world is hostile, and it needs to keep its guard up. At this point in time, it is just in survival mode. Alert, aware and suspicious of every sound it hears and everything it sees.
Through the endless days of wandering the White Soul finds themselves walking across plains of gray grass and fending off strange wolves made of metal. They keep walking until they reach a mountain range extending miles in every direction. Theh follow a faint path into the mountains, the sandy ground slowly being covered in thick layers of snow.
Through the endless walking and the cold, a voice can be heard in the distance around a bend in the path. Peeking around the bend the White Soul sees a massive ice and pearl gate guarded by two figures in white armor.
"This is bullshit." It complains bitterly.
Another voice responds. "Dont let the commander hear you say that."
"It is though! This pass is so rarely used! We should just close the gate instead of placing guards here." The first voice yells back.
"You say its boring, I say its easy work. Better out here where the higher ups cant see us than back in the palace on Mistress White's personal guard."
Itâs unsure whether or not to go up to these strange people. It could be making a bad choice, these strangers could attack it. They certainly have the weapons to defeat it easily. And while it has noticed that it can do strange things with the ice and water, but it doesnât have arms from its elbow down. It knows that is a disadvantage here.
It might be worth it, to speak to these strange armored figures. It hasnât seen anything like them for days. It walks out from around the bend, ready to run if it needs to, braced for quick movement.
âHello?â It calls to the figures. Its voice is hesitant and quiet, it rasps from disuse.
The first of the men in armor looks caught off guard, a lance of ice appearing in his hand. "Who's there!?" He yells.
The other man grabs the lance and throws it away. "Its a Blank you idiot!" They smack the first man over the head and turn to the Blank. "Hey sorry about that! We're not gonna hurt you, you just surprised us!" They motion for the Blank to come closer.
It jumps and looks ready to bolt upon seeing the lance. Itâs bristling, looking like itâs ready to fight or run or anything else it needs to get away from the danger. Of course, it wouldnât really be able to fight against two guards alone, but maybe if it managed to look threatening enoughâŠ
It sort of goes tenser with shock when one of the men throws the lance away. It cautiously, slowly makes its way closer. âWho are you?â It asks, furrowing its eyebrows at the guards. âWhere am I?â
"I'm Icicle." The second guard says. "This dumbass is Nives. Welcome to Arena Blank." They say exasperated. "I get you have a lot of questions, good news that's normal. How you woke up happens to everyone."
It frowns. âKnivesâ(?) doesnât sound like a nice name. It checks out, with how quickly the guard was ready to impale them with that lance. Theyâre eyeing him warily throughout this whole conversation. âWhy am I here?â They question, tone bordering on accusatory. âHow did you summon that sharp weapon?â
Icicle sighs again. "Arena, everybody wakes up here, even us."
Nives shrugs. "Yeah pretty much, you wake up and find your place."
Icicle nods. "As for the lance Nives made, its just something we can do as White Souls. You're a White Soul too." He gestures at the blanks clothing, a white shirt and pants with blue snow flakes running down their arms and legs. "Just will the ice to form what you want and it will respond." They demonstrate by holding out their hands and a sword and shield manifest from their armor.
It tilts its head, like that would help it understand the concept of the arena, and the implications it has for its future, better. âSo weâre here because weâre here.â It nods, that sort of makes sense. Itâs not worth wasting energy to look for the answers to the world.
âOh.â It considers its skin and its clothes. If it had a mirror it would look at its eyes. Blues and whites greet it, similar to the snow around them. âInteresting.â It frowns, glancing down at its arms - or lack thereof - with concern. âCan I fix this?â It asks them, hesitant.
Nives shrugs. "You can probably just make new ones with your powers."
Icicle sighs again. "How are they gonna do that without experience or instructions?"
"Uh...."
"Hey Blank." Icicle turns to them. "This road past the gate leads to a town of souls like us. I can take you there and someone will help with your... arm issues." They reach into their pocket and pull out a frost covered key.
It glances between the two as they speak. It had noticed the ice and water being somewhat responsive(?) to it. That could have been an illusion of the endless gray, though. It immediately turns back to Icicle when addressed. Itâs hesitant. âIs it safe? The town is safe? Nobody will attack us? They can help? Will they?â Itâs very focused on their face when it asks the barrage of questions.
The two men chuckle. "We're White Souls, of course they will." Nives laughs. "Be kinda weird if a Monarch town didn't help us! We literally get paid to make sure no outsiders get in!"
Icicle chuckles as they nod their head. The two men's lower faces are covered by masks, but their eyes are amused and calm with no sign of deceit. Icicle looks back at the Blank as if they realized something. "Right! You're new! That doesnt mean much to you." He gently hits himself on the head. "Short version is there's a bunch of Soul Colors out there, and the three of us are White Souls. This entire mountain range is our territory, so you'll only find other people like is beyond this gate. You're lucky you found us instead of the other savages out in the wilds."
"Like the Fallen..." Nives groans.
"Yeah... fucking Rusted..." he cusses, something about how he said that word feels like a slur... "Anyway! I'll open the gate!"
It tilts its head to the side. A slight smile gracing its lips. Itâs nice to know that there are other people, and people that will help it, at that. No more weird metal creatures trying to eat(?) it. It visibly relaxes. âThatâs good.â
Its eyebrows raise, and it looks down at its pale blueish skin, then over at the two men, as if comparing. It hasnât really wondered about how it looked while it was wandering throughout the seemingly endless Arena. Then, it glances around at the mountains, the snow, the gate. It frowns, glancing back towards the two guards. âWhat are the other soul colors? Whatâs wrong with them? The Fallen? The Rusted?â
It glances back towards the gate. It thinks the ice and pearl gate looks rather pretty. It lightly scrapes its foot against the snow on the ground, shifting it around.
Icicle huffs as they push open the grand doors of the gate. "Lets see..." they start, counting on their fingers. "White, that's us. Blue, green, gold, silver, and black... Thats it." They push open the second door of thr gate, the air filled with the groans of the hinges. "They're all uncivilized barbarians that eould rather kill each other over petty nonsense than actually do anything of value. You'll see what I mean if you ever make it to The Spire." They motion up the revealed snow dusted path.
Nives clears his throat awkwardly. "Icicle... the Primes did put out an order to send all blanks to the Spire."
"When was that!?"
"Uh-..... a week ago?"
"Why didn't you tell me!?"
"I'm telling you now!"
Icicle sighs. "Nevermind... guess what Blank, you're getting a direct trip to the capital itself."
It nods, listening as Icicle lists the different colors of souls. It would keep that in mind, and it sounds like it should avoid any soul that isnât a white soul, like itself. It looks over at the direction of âThe Spireâ curiously. Then turns back to the guards when they start talking again. Looking between them calculatingly.
âWhat is the spire? Whatâs it like?â It questions, its head tilting to the side. âPrimes? And why do I need to go there?â It glances between the nearby gate and the direction that Icicle had gestured to in reference of the Spire again. It wasnât completely eager to continue wandering around the hostile Arena.
"Spire is our capital, massive palace where the Primes live." Icicle only half explains while dragging out an old chest and opens it. "The path is safe but you can never be too careful." They hand the Blank a chain mail suit of armor and a belt with a dagger. "Never know if there could be a Synth attack. I'll escort you up to the Spire, Nives think you can handle solo duty?"
"Of course! I'm a professional!" He says stumbling into a salute.
"Riiight.... lets make this trip quick Blank." They start walking up the path and motion for them to follow.
It takes the chainmail and belt, pulling the belt on and the armor over its clothes. It nods, though itâs not entirely sure how itâll use the dagger. âThe Synths are the metal animal things?â It glances back to Nives, and nods curtly as if in a goodbye.
While it follows Icicle, it near constantly glances are the area around them. âWhat are the Primes like? Should I know the names ahead of time?â It glances over at Icicle for a moment as it asks the question before returning to its vigilant watch.
Icicle hums for a second. "I've never actually met them in person, its an honor to even share a room with them. I've only heard stories. Strongest warriors in all of Arena, glowing with divine might, the true Monarchs of all Arena." They speak in a grand tone. "Oh and yeah, Synths are those metal animals. We dont get many up here, but the fliers tend to sneak by."
It watches him from the corner of its eye. âSo theyâre like royalty⊠or gods.â It hums. âThey sound powerful, and impressive... But why would they want Blanks to go to the capital?â It questions. It nods. It had seen a few âSynthsâ but always kept its distance. âI will keep an eye out for them, then.â
Icicle laughs. "They'll certainly like you calling them gods. Think of them like kings of kings. We as White Souls are Arena's true rulers, its why we call ourselves the Monarchs. The Primes are our rulers, the kings that watch over their other kings in a way." Their voice is filled with grandiose reverence. "I'm thinking with whats been happening down south they're looking for potential generals and as a Blank well... you have a lot of potential."
It blinks at that explanation, then starts nodding slowly, as it processes that. âAh⊠that makes sense. Theyâre in charge of us, but weâre in charge of things around here.â It frowns now. âWhatâs going on down south? Are the other color souls attacking us? Are the Synths attacking us? They need people that can fight?â It glances down at its nonexistent arms. âIâm not sure if I can.â
"There is a war, it just doesnt involve us. At least yet. The Fallen and Dorado Empire are at war for the... 90th time it feels. That war buts right up against our territory, everyone's a little worried we're gonna get dragged in. You probably won't have to fight though given your..." They geature at their lack of arms. "Yeah uh-... you'll probably get placed into a diplomat position or something."
The little silver soul had stayed on his back for a long time, staring at the sky as if it could tell him who he was, where he was, or what was going on. None of the answers were given, nor did he ask the questions.
When he eventually got up and found himself alone, he chose a random direction and started walking.
( @theexistance)
The sky was a dead cold gray, smudged with pale whispy clouds. The ground is loose like sand and covered with a layer of gray grass. The Silver Soul is wearing a gray shirt and pants with pale blue wire designs running down their arms and legs.
They keep walking for hours and hours across thr field until something in the distance catches their attention. A wagon carrying the bodies of dead robotic animals slowly rolls across a path in the dirt, surrounded by a band of people in armor. Someone in the caravan stops and waves down the Silver Soul, the wagon coming to a stop along side them.
A man from the wagon walks over to the Silver Soul, his hands in the air. "Ey' there Blank!" The man calls out. He wears armor of welded plate metal and a sword around his waist. "Walk with us 'kay?"
The man looks over the Blank silver as they make it back to the wagon. "Welcome to Arena Blank. I'm Iron." He hands the Blank a small bottle of a thick gray liquid. He motions to a larger beared man pulling the cart. "Thats Zinc, he's a softie inside." He then points to a person off to the side with a mask and gun, "Scary one is Irridium, our body guard. We're all Silver Souls like you." He doesnt really elaborate further, but he does seem genuine and kind. Looking around the Silver notices another figure in front of the caravan with their back turned and holding a bow.
This figure is of course what catches the soul's interest. They point to the figure at the head of the caravan, giving the man a questioning expression.
Iron nods slowly. "Thats Silver." His voice is mixed with fear and respect. "Be sure to show her some respect Blank, she's the strongest of us all." As they talk, Silver turns to look at the group. Iron turns away and clears his throat. "Course, you wouldn't know that now.... grab a seat in the wagon, i'll give you the basic rundown of Arena while we walk back to the city." Iron moves the severed head of a metal bird out of the way so the blank soul can have a place to sit. "Might as well start with what you are... you're a blank, a new arrival here. We all were blanks at some point, but we find our place eventually. You'll earn a name for yourself soon enough. I got my name Iron from how thick my skin is." He chuckles.
They nod along, paying close attention to everything that Iron said, though they are still focused on Silver. Eventually, they tear their eyes away from the leader and focused on the wagons themselves. They reach out to cautiously touch the severed metal bird head, frowning.
The bird head stares back at the Blank, its dead eyes empty voids. Iron's voice pulls their gaze back up. "These things are called Synths. Metal monsters that only exist for killing, see us as fuel for their systems. One you're looking at is a Spark Wing, a weaker thing, mostly just collects blood from people." He nods to the man in front of the cart, Zinc, and the cart starts moving as he pulls it. "We're heading to a big city called Sanctum to sell these machines for parts. Sanctum's a good place for Blanks like you. Plenty of jobs and information." Iron takes a bottle from his belt and takes a long swig, it smells strongly of alcohol. "Want some?" He offers out the bottle.
The blank shrugs and takes the bottle, spitting out the spit they took a moment later, coughing. They shove the bottle back at Iron, giving him a look of betrayal. They really did not remember what the smell of alcohol meant. It hadn't played a big enough part while they were still alive to mean anything now.
They give the Spark Wing one more pat, then retract their hand, staring ahead again. After a bit, they hop off the wagon, seemingly bored of whatever company they had been offered.
"Hey whoa!" Iron gently grabs the Blanks shoulder. "Dont go wondering off! Arena's dangerous, bandits and Synths everywhere. You just got here, it'd be a shame to loose ya so quick." He pats them on the shoulder as if to reassure them. "Never go out on your own unless you're equipped to!"
They stare longingly out across the field that to them looked so inviting. So vast and unknown. Then nod, and walk along side the wagon, unwilling to bother Zinc about stopping it again.
The wind blows gently across the fields, the air feeling icy cold. The sound of the wheels turning with the axle and across the ground are the only sounds apart from the boots of the people. The silence feels endless.
A metallic snarl like grinding gears echoes across the wind. The caravan stops amd everyone draws their weapons.
"Damn wolves." Zinc curses.
"Focus damnit." Iridium yells.
Iron steps in front of the Blank, his warhammer raised defensively. "Stay behind me." He looks back to check on them, just long enough to not see a giant metal wolf leap from the grass and lock its jaws around his head. Iron doesn't get a chance to scream as metal jaws crush his skull, silver blood like mercury spurts and sprays, covering the blanks clothes. The metal wolf leaps for the Blank but an arrow flies through its skull knocking its body to the ground.
Silver runs to the Blank's side. "You hurt?" She asks looking them over. "You know how to fight?" She asks while flakes of metal form into her palm and into a long sword she offers to the Blank.
The Blank stares at Iron, wide eyes trying to take and and compriend what had happened so quickly. Perhaps they should have left. They never would have known these people and never watched that happen. They look down at their clothing, then up at silver.
"No, ma'am, but I can try."
Their voice which they simply hadn't bothered to use before, seemed to drag it's way from their mouth like an unwilling child. They spoke slowly and with intent.
She throws the sword into the back of the wagon, and hands the Blank a revolver from her hip. "Shootings easy, point at the thing and pull the trigger. You miss, you die." She says bluntly. Her voices catches as she turns back to the Blank. "So... dont miss, and don't hit any of us." She turns back to the field of grass, the metallic snarls still moving through the tall weeds.
"Got one!" Zinc yelled firing into the grass, in less than a second a smaller wolf pounced. Its massive claws tore through Zinc's leg, silver blood spurting out from the wound. Zinc shoved his rifle into the wolf's jaws, screaming in pain and effort for help.
The Blank points the revolver at the wolf, but frowns, worried that they will hit Zinc. So instead, they focus on the wolf itself. On the porus darkness they saw inside it. Finding the weakspots where the emptyness was greatest. Then they pulled the trigger. Though all this happened very quickly from the outside, where others saw only a moments hesitation before the kill.
"Its Silver." She says, running a steel spike through a wolf's skull. "Cause their machines built only to kill." Her explanation is short, but rather to the point. A shield appears in her arm that she uses to bash a leaping wolf out of the air and onto the ground
The final wolf falls dead as Silver's spear runs through its skull. She lets out a heavy breath amd looks around. "Anyone else hurt?" She yells out at the others.
"Damn dog got my leg!" Zinc yells in pain. He sat collapsed against the caravans wheel.
"Bite wound or claw?" Silver asks assessing him.
"Claw-"
"You'll live." She says coldly handing him a small syringe. Zinc scoffs at her and takes the needle, popping the cap off and injecting its liquid directly into his wound. The blood stopped flowing in a second as his wound started to stitch itself back together and grow new skin.
Irridium stands next to the Blank, looking down at Iron's body. They dont say anything, just tapping their fist over their heart.
Silver looks at the Blank. "What about you? You get hurt in the fight?"
The blank stares, taking everything in. Watching Zinc's wound heal itself with clear curiosity. They turn to Silver when she asks. They look down at themselves. One of their sleeves is ripped as if by claws, but there is no blood.
"I don't think so," they answer with a shrug. They hadn't even noticed at the time that one of the wolves had managed to claw them.
She grabs a syringe from her bag and hands it to them. "Better safe than sorry. Its a blood stim, heals all wounds." She explains, nodding her head back at Zinc. "Lets load Iron's body onto the cart and get moving... when there's a pack of Wolves there's always worse to follow."
In a field, a small blue soul sat still, looking around in curiosity.
They were short, chin tucked up in a thick sweater, bandages coating their legs. Honestly, if anyone were to look, their first thought would be: child.
The Soul continues to sit, braiding strands of grass absentmindedly, as if waiting for this new world to greet them.
~ đŒ
The cold air bites at their skin as the wind blows through the plains. There's no noise other than the wind whistling through the gray grass. No birds singing. No rodents skittering. No animals stalking. Its... uncanny... like something deep down inside them was saying this was wrong but there was nothing to suggest anything actually was wrong.
The soul sits in silence, until off in the distance just past a hill there's a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder no less than half a second apart. A faint green glow spills up from beyond the hillside as smoke rises. And just faintly, carried on the wind is the chatter of people.
The blank jumps to their feet, already starting to walk towards the hill. They had a determined expression as they trudged through the gray shades of grass and dirt.
The child had no real choice, but to carry on. Something awaited them. Their hands cup over their eyes, trying to find the source of the conversation.
Reaching the top of the hill they see a small group of people gathered at its base around a glowing green campfire. Two men and a woman it seemed. They sat around making light conversation while drinking amd eating. Sitting at the edge of the camp were their weapons.
The woman blinks in confusion and nods slowly. "Uh yeah..." She looks over at the other two. A blue soul with a mask over the lower half of his face, and another man in heavy plate armor.
The blue soul offers a seat next to him. "Hey Blank..."
In a field, a small blue soul sat still, looking around in curiosity.
They were short, chin tucked up in a thick sweater, bandages coating their legs. Honestly, if anyone were to look, their first thought would be: child.
The Soul continues to sit, braiding strands of grass absentmindedly, as if waiting for this new world to greet them.
~ đŒ
The cold air bites at their skin as the wind blows through the plains. There's no noise other than the wind whistling through the gray grass. No birds singing. No rodents skittering. No animals stalking. Its... uncanny... like something deep down inside them was saying this was wrong but there was nothing to suggest anything actually was wrong.
The soul sits in silence, until off in the distance just past a hill there's a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder no less than half a second apart. A faint green glow spills up from beyond the hillside as smoke rises. And just faintly, carried on the wind is the chatter of people.
The blank jumps to their feet, already starting to walk towards the hill. They had a determined expression as they trudged through the gray shades of grass and dirt.
The child had no real choice, but to carry on. Something awaited them. Their hands cup over their eyes, trying to find the source of the conversation.
Reaching the top of the hill they see a small group of people gathered at its base around a glowing green campfire. Two men and a woman it seemed. They sat around making light conversation while drinking amd eating. Sitting at the edge of the camp were their weapons.
The little silver soul had stayed on his back for a long time, staring at the sky as if it could tell him who he was, where he was, or what was going on. None of the answers were given, nor did he ask the questions.
When he eventually got up and found himself alone, he chose a random direction and started walking.
( @theexistance)
The sky was a dead cold gray, smudged with pale whispy clouds. The ground is loose like sand and covered with a layer of gray grass. The Silver Soul is wearing a gray shirt and pants with pale blue wire designs running down their arms and legs.
They keep walking for hours and hours across thr field until something in the distance catches their attention. A wagon carrying the bodies of dead robotic animals slowly rolls across a path in the dirt, surrounded by a band of people in armor. Someone in the caravan stops and waves down the Silver Soul, the wagon coming to a stop along side them.
A man from the wagon walks over to the Silver Soul, his hands in the air. "Ey' there Blank!" The man calls out. He wears armor of welded plate metal and a sword around his waist. "Walk with us 'kay?"
The man looks over the Blank silver as they make it back to the wagon. "Welcome to Arena Blank. I'm Iron." He hands the Blank a small bottle of a thick gray liquid. He motions to a larger beared man pulling the cart. "Thats Zinc, he's a softie inside." He then points to a person off to the side with a mask and gun, "Scary one is Irridium, our body guard. We're all Silver Souls like you." He doesnt really elaborate further, but he does seem genuine and kind. Looking around the Silver notices another figure in front of the caravan with their back turned and holding a bow.
This figure is of course what catches the soul's interest. They point to the figure at the head of the caravan, giving the man a questioning expression.
Iron nods slowly. "Thats Silver." His voice is mixed with fear and respect. "Be sure to show her some respect Blank, she's the strongest of us all." As they talk, Silver turns to look at the group. Iron turns away and clears his throat. "Course, you wouldn't know that now.... grab a seat in the wagon, i'll give you the basic rundown of Arena while we walk back to the city." Iron moves the severed head of a metal bird out of the way so the blank soul can have a place to sit. "Might as well start with what you are... you're a blank, a new arrival here. We all were blanks at some point, but we find our place eventually. You'll earn a name for yourself soon enough. I got my name Iron from how thick my skin is." He chuckles.
They nod along, paying close attention to everything that Iron said, though they are still focused on Silver. Eventually, they tear their eyes away from the leader and focused on the wagons themselves. They reach out to cautiously touch the severed metal bird head, frowning.
The bird head stares back at the Blank, its dead eyes empty voids. Iron's voice pulls their gaze back up. "These things are called Synths. Metal monsters that only exist for killing, see us as fuel for their systems. One you're looking at is a Spark Wing, a weaker thing, mostly just collects blood from people." He nods to the man in front of the cart, Zinc, and the cart starts moving as he pulls it. "We're heading to a big city called Sanctum to sell these machines for parts. Sanctum's a good place for Blanks like you. Plenty of jobs and information." Iron takes a bottle from his belt and takes a long swig, it smells strongly of alcohol. "Want some?" He offers out the bottle.
The blank shrugs and takes the bottle, spitting out the spit they took a moment later, coughing. They shove the bottle back at Iron, giving him a look of betrayal. They really did not remember what the smell of alcohol meant. It hadn't played a big enough part while they were still alive to mean anything now.
They give the Spark Wing one more pat, then retract their hand, staring ahead again. After a bit, they hop off the wagon, seemingly bored of whatever company they had been offered.
"Hey whoa!" Iron gently grabs the Blanks shoulder. "Dont go wondering off! Arena's dangerous, bandits and Synths everywhere. You just got here, it'd be a shame to loose ya so quick." He pats them on the shoulder as if to reassure them. "Never go out on your own unless you're equipped to!"
They stare longingly out across the field that to them looked so inviting. So vast and unknown. Then nod, and walk along side the wagon, unwilling to bother Zinc about stopping it again.
The wind blows gently across the fields, the air feeling icy cold. The sound of the wheels turning with the axle and across the ground are the only sounds apart from the boots of the people. The silence feels endless.
A metallic snarl like grinding gears echoes across the wind. The caravan stops amd everyone draws their weapons.
"Damn wolves." Zinc curses.
"Focus damnit." Iridium yells.
Iron steps in front of the Blank, his warhammer raised defensively. "Stay behind me." He looks back to check on them, just long enough to not see a giant metal wolf leap from the grass and lock its jaws around his head. Iron doesn't get a chance to scream as metal jaws crush his skull, silver blood like mercury spurts and sprays, covering the blanks clothes. The metal wolf leaps for the Blank but an arrow flies through its skull knocking its body to the ground.
Silver runs to the Blank's side. "You hurt?" She asks looking them over. "You know how to fight?" She asks while flakes of metal form into her palm and into a long sword she offers to the Blank.
The Blank stares at Iron, wide eyes trying to take and and compriend what had happened so quickly. Perhaps they should have left. They never would have known these people and never watched that happen. They look down at their clothing, then up at silver.
"No, ma'am, but I can try."
Their voice which they simply hadn't bothered to use before, seemed to drag it's way from their mouth like an unwilling child. They spoke slowly and with intent.
She throws the sword into the back of the wagon, and hands the Blank a revolver from her hip. "Shootings easy, point at the thing and pull the trigger. You miss, you die." She says bluntly. Her voices catches as she turns back to the Blank. "So... dont miss, and don't hit any of us." She turns back to the field of grass, the metallic snarls still moving through the tall weeds.
"Got one!" Zinc yelled firing into the grass, in less than a second a smaller wolf pounced. Its massive claws tore through Zinc's leg, silver blood spurting out from the wound. Zinc shoved his rifle into the wolf's jaws, screaming in pain and effort for help.
The Blank points the revolver at the wolf, but frowns, worried that they will hit Zinc. So instead, they focus on the wolf itself. On the porus darkness they saw inside it. Finding the weakspots where the emptyness was greatest. Then they pulled the trigger. Though all this happened very quickly from the outside, where others saw only a moments hesitation before the kill.
"Its Silver." She says, running a steel spike through a wolf's skull. "Cause their machines built only to kill." Her explanation is short, but rather to the point. A shield appears in her arm that she uses to bash a leaping wolf out of the air and onto the ground
The final wolf falls dead as Silver's spear runs through its skull. She lets out a heavy breath amd looks around. "Anyone else hurt?" She yells out at the others.
"Damn dog got my leg!" Zinc yells in pain. He sat collapsed against the caravans wheel.
"Bite wound or claw?" Silver asks assessing him.
"Claw-"
"You'll live." She says coldly handing him a small syringe. Zinc scoffs at her and takes the needle, popping the cap off and injecting its liquid directly into his wound. The blood stopped flowing in a second as his wound started to stitch itself back together and grow new skin.
Irridium stands next to the Blank, looking down at Iron's body. They dont say anything, just tapping their fist over their heart.
Silver looks at the Blank. "What about you? You get hurt in the fight?"
A white soul had spawned in a few days ago. Blank, aimless, wandering through the Arena. It doesnât know who, what, where it is.
It only really understands that this near-grayscale world is hostile, and it needs to keep its guard up. At this point in time, it is just in survival mode. Alert, aware and suspicious of every sound it hears and everything it sees.
Through the endless days of wandering the White Soul finds themselves walking across plains of gray grass and fending off strange wolves made of metal. They keep walking until they reach a mountain range extending miles in every direction. Theh follow a faint path into the mountains, the sandy ground slowly being covered in thick layers of snow.
Through the endless walking and the cold, a voice can be heard in the distance around a bend in the path. Peeking around the bend the White Soul sees a massive ice and pearl gate guarded by two figures in white armor.
"This is bullshit." It complains bitterly.
Another voice responds. "Dont let the commander hear you say that."
"It is though! This pass is so rarely used! We should just close the gate instead of placing guards here." The first voice yells back.
"You say its boring, I say its easy work. Better out here where the higher ups cant see us than back in the palace on Mistress White's personal guard."
Itâs unsure whether or not to go up to these strange people. It could be making a bad choice, these strangers could attack it. They certainly have the weapons to defeat it easily. And while it has noticed that it can do strange things with the ice and water, but it doesnât have arms from its elbow down. It knows that is a disadvantage here.
It might be worth it, to speak to these strange armored figures. It hasnât seen anything like them for days. It walks out from around the bend, ready to run if it needs to, braced for quick movement.
âHello?â It calls to the figures. Its voice is hesitant and quiet, it rasps from disuse.
The first of the men in armor looks caught off guard, a lance of ice appearing in his hand. "Who's there!?" He yells.
The other man grabs the lance and throws it away. "Its a Blank you idiot!" They smack the first man over the head and turn to the Blank. "Hey sorry about that! We're not gonna hurt you, you just surprised us!" They motion for the Blank to come closer.
It jumps and looks ready to bolt upon seeing the lance. Itâs bristling, looking like itâs ready to fight or run or anything else it needs to get away from the danger. Of course, it wouldnât really be able to fight against two guards alone, but maybe if it managed to look threatening enoughâŠ
It sort of goes tenser with shock when one of the men throws the lance away. It cautiously, slowly makes its way closer. âWho are you?â It asks, furrowing its eyebrows at the guards. âWhere am I?â
"I'm Icicle." The second guard says. "This dumbass is Nives. Welcome to Arena Blank." They say exasperated. "I get you have a lot of questions, good news that's normal. How you woke up happens to everyone."
It frowns. âKnivesâ(?) doesnât sound like a nice name. It checks out, with how quickly the guard was ready to impale them with that lance. Theyâre eyeing him warily throughout this whole conversation. âWhy am I here?â They question, tone bordering on accusatory. âHow did you summon that sharp weapon?â
Icicle sighs again. "Arena, everybody wakes up here, even us."
Nives shrugs. "Yeah pretty much, you wake up and find your place."
Icicle nods. "As for the lance Nives made, its just something we can do as White Souls. You're a White Soul too." He gestures at the blanks clothing, a white shirt and pants with blue snow flakes running down their arms and legs. "Just will the ice to form what you want and it will respond." They demonstrate by holding out their hands and a sword and shield manifest from their armor.
It tilts its head, like that would help it understand the concept of the arena, and the implications it has for its future, better. âSo weâre here because weâre here.â It nods, that sort of makes sense. Itâs not worth wasting energy to look for the answers to the world.
âOh.â It considers its skin and its clothes. If it had a mirror it would look at its eyes. Blues and whites greet it, similar to the snow around them. âInteresting.â It frowns, glancing down at its arms - or lack thereof - with concern. âCan I fix this?â It asks them, hesitant.
Nives shrugs. "You can probably just make new ones with your powers."
Icicle sighs again. "How are they gonna do that without experience or instructions?"
"Uh...."
"Hey Blank." Icicle turns to them. "This road past the gate leads to a town of souls like us. I can take you there and someone will help with your... arm issues." They reach into their pocket and pull out a frost covered key.
It glances between the two as they speak. It had noticed the ice and water being somewhat responsive(?) to it. That could have been an illusion of the endless gray, though. It immediately turns back to Icicle when addressed. Itâs hesitant. âIs it safe? The town is safe? Nobody will attack us? They can help? Will they?â Itâs very focused on their face when it asks the barrage of questions.
The two men chuckle. "We're White Souls, of course they will." Nives laughs. "Be kinda weird if a Monarch town didn't help us! We literally get paid to make sure no outsiders get in!"
Icicle chuckles as they nod their head. The two men's lower faces are covered by masks, but their eyes are amused and calm with no sign of deceit. Icicle looks back at the Blank as if they realized something. "Right! You're new! That doesnt mean much to you." He gently hits himself on the head. "Short version is there's a bunch of Soul Colors out there, and the three of us are White Souls. This entire mountain range is our territory, so you'll only find other people like is beyond this gate. You're lucky you found us instead of the other savages out in the wilds."
"Like the Fallen..." Nives groans.
"Yeah... fucking Rusted..." he cusses, something about how he said that word feels like a slur... "Anyway! I'll open the gate!"
It tilts its head to the side. A slight smile gracing its lips. Itâs nice to know that there are other people, and people that will help it, at that. No more weird metal creatures trying to eat(?) it. It visibly relaxes. âThatâs good.â
Its eyebrows raise, and it looks down at its pale blueish skin, then over at the two men, as if comparing. It hasnât really wondered about how it looked while it was wandering throughout the seemingly endless Arena. Then, it glances around at the mountains, the snow, the gate. It frowns, glancing back towards the two guards. âWhat are the other soul colors? Whatâs wrong with them? The Fallen? The Rusted?â
It glances back towards the gate. It thinks the ice and pearl gate looks rather pretty. It lightly scrapes its foot against the snow on the ground, shifting it around.
Icicle huffs as they push open the grand doors of the gate. "Lets see..." they start, counting on their fingers. "White, that's us. Blue, green, gold, silver, and black... Thats it." They push open the second door of thr gate, the air filled with the groans of the hinges. "They're all uncivilized barbarians that eould rather kill each other over petty nonsense than actually do anything of value. You'll see what I mean if you ever make it to The Spire." They motion up the revealed snow dusted path.
Nives clears his throat awkwardly. "Icicle... the Primes did put out an order to send all blanks to the Spire."
"When was that!?"
"Uh-..... a week ago?"
"Why didn't you tell me!?"
"I'm telling you now!"
Icicle sighs. "Nevermind... guess what Blank, you're getting a direct trip to the capital itself."
It nods, listening as Icicle lists the different colors of souls. It would keep that in mind, and it sounds like it should avoid any soul that isnât a white soul, like itself. It looks over at the direction of âThe Spireâ curiously. Then turns back to the guards when they start talking again. Looking between them calculatingly.
âWhat is the spire? Whatâs it like?â It questions, its head tilting to the side. âPrimes? And why do I need to go there?â It glances between the nearby gate and the direction that Icicle had gestured to in reference of the Spire again. It wasnât completely eager to continue wandering around the hostile Arena.
"Spire is our capital, massive palace where the Primes live." Icicle only half explains while dragging out an old chest and opens it. "The path is safe but you can never be too careful." They hand the Blank a chain mail suit of armor and a belt with a dagger. "Never know if there could be a Synth attack. I'll escort you up to the Spire, Nives think you can handle solo duty?"
"Of course! I'm a professional!" He says stumbling into a salute.
"Riiight.... lets make this trip quick Blank." They start walking up the path and motion for them to follow.
It takes the chainmail and belt, pulling the belt on and the armor over its clothes. It nods, though itâs not entirely sure how itâll use the dagger. âThe Synths are the metal animal things?â It glances back to Nives, and nods curtly as if in a goodbye.
While it follows Icicle, it near constantly glances are the area around them. âWhat are the Primes like? Should I know the names ahead of time?â It glances over at Icicle for a moment as it asks the question before returning to its vigilant watch.
Icicle hums for a second. "I've never actually met them in person, its an honor to even share a room with them. I've only heard stories. Strongest warriors in all of Arena, glowing with divine might, the true Monarchs of all Arena." They speak in a grand tone. "Oh and yeah, Synths are those metal animals. We dont get many up here, but the fliers tend to sneak by."
It watches him from the corner of its eye. âSo theyâre like royalty⊠or gods.â It hums. âThey sound powerful, and impressive... But why would they want Blanks to go to the capital?â It questions. It nods. It had seen a few âSynthsâ but always kept its distance. âI will keep an eye out for them, then.â
Icicle laughs. "They'll certainly like you calling them gods. Think of them like kings of kings. We as White Souls are Arena's true rulers, its why we call ourselves the Monarchs. The Primes are our rulers, the kings that watch over their other kings in a way." Their voice is filled with grandiose reverence. "I'm thinking with whats been happening down south they're looking for potential generals and as a Blank well... you have a lot of potential."
In a field, a small blue soul sat still, looking around in curiosity.
They were short, chin tucked up in a thick sweater, bandages coating their legs. Honestly, if anyone were to look, their first thought would be: child.
The Soul continues to sit, braiding strands of grass absentmindedly, as if waiting for this new world to greet them.
~ đŒ
The cold air bites at their skin as the wind blows through the plains. There's no noise other than the wind whistling through the gray grass. No birds singing. No rodents skittering. No animals stalking. Its... uncanny... like something deep down inside them was saying this was wrong but there was nothing to suggest anything actually was wrong.
The soul sits in silence, until off in the distance just past a hill there's a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder no less than half a second apart. A faint green glow spills up from beyond the hillside as smoke rises. And just faintly, carried on the wind is the chatter of people.
A white soul had spawned in a few days ago. Blank, aimless, wandering through the Arena. It doesnât know who, what, where it is.
It only really understands that this near-grayscale world is hostile, and it needs to keep its guard up. At this point in time, it is just in survival mode. Alert, aware and suspicious of every sound it hears and everything it sees.
Through the endless days of wandering the White Soul finds themselves walking across plains of gray grass and fending off strange wolves made of metal. They keep walking until they reach a mountain range extending miles in every direction. Theh follow a faint path into the mountains, the sandy ground slowly being covered in thick layers of snow.
Through the endless walking and the cold, a voice can be heard in the distance around a bend in the path. Peeking around the bend the White Soul sees a massive ice and pearl gate guarded by two figures in white armor.
"This is bullshit." It complains bitterly.
Another voice responds. "Dont let the commander hear you say that."
"It is though! This pass is so rarely used! We should just close the gate instead of placing guards here." The first voice yells back.
"You say its boring, I say its easy work. Better out here where the higher ups cant see us than back in the palace on Mistress White's personal guard."
Itâs unsure whether or not to go up to these strange people. It could be making a bad choice, these strangers could attack it. They certainly have the weapons to defeat it easily. And while it has noticed that it can do strange things with the ice and water, but it doesnât have arms from its elbow down. It knows that is a disadvantage here.
It might be worth it, to speak to these strange armored figures. It hasnât seen anything like them for days. It walks out from around the bend, ready to run if it needs to, braced for quick movement.
âHello?â It calls to the figures. Its voice is hesitant and quiet, it rasps from disuse.
The first of the men in armor looks caught off guard, a lance of ice appearing in his hand. "Who's there!?" He yells.
The other man grabs the lance and throws it away. "Its a Blank you idiot!" They smack the first man over the head and turn to the Blank. "Hey sorry about that! We're not gonna hurt you, you just surprised us!" They motion for the Blank to come closer.
It jumps and looks ready to bolt upon seeing the lance. Itâs bristling, looking like itâs ready to fight or run or anything else it needs to get away from the danger. Of course, it wouldnât really be able to fight against two guards alone, but maybe if it managed to look threatening enoughâŠ
It sort of goes tenser with shock when one of the men throws the lance away. It cautiously, slowly makes its way closer. âWho are you?â It asks, furrowing its eyebrows at the guards. âWhere am I?â
"I'm Icicle." The second guard says. "This dumbass is Nives. Welcome to Arena Blank." They say exasperated. "I get you have a lot of questions, good news that's normal. How you woke up happens to everyone."
It frowns. âKnivesâ(?) doesnât sound like a nice name. It checks out, with how quickly the guard was ready to impale them with that lance. Theyâre eyeing him warily throughout this whole conversation. âWhy am I here?â They question, tone bordering on accusatory. âHow did you summon that sharp weapon?â
Icicle sighs again. "Arena, everybody wakes up here, even us."
Nives shrugs. "Yeah pretty much, you wake up and find your place."
Icicle nods. "As for the lance Nives made, its just something we can do as White Souls. You're a White Soul too." He gestures at the blanks clothing, a white shirt and pants with blue snow flakes running down their arms and legs. "Just will the ice to form what you want and it will respond." They demonstrate by holding out their hands and a sword and shield manifest from their armor.
It tilts its head, like that would help it understand the concept of the arena, and the implications it has for its future, better. âSo weâre here because weâre here.â It nods, that sort of makes sense. Itâs not worth wasting energy to look for the answers to the world.
âOh.â It considers its skin and its clothes. If it had a mirror it would look at its eyes. Blues and whites greet it, similar to the snow around them. âInteresting.â It frowns, glancing down at its arms - or lack thereof - with concern. âCan I fix this?â It asks them, hesitant.
Nives shrugs. "You can probably just make new ones with your powers."
Icicle sighs again. "How are they gonna do that without experience or instructions?"
"Uh...."
"Hey Blank." Icicle turns to them. "This road past the gate leads to a town of souls like us. I can take you there and someone will help with your... arm issues." They reach into their pocket and pull out a frost covered key.
It glances between the two as they speak. It had noticed the ice and water being somewhat responsive(?) to it. That could have been an illusion of the endless gray, though. It immediately turns back to Icicle when addressed. Itâs hesitant. âIs it safe? The town is safe? Nobody will attack us? They can help? Will they?â Itâs very focused on their face when it asks the barrage of questions.
The two men chuckle. "We're White Souls, of course they will." Nives laughs. "Be kinda weird if a Monarch town didn't help us! We literally get paid to make sure no outsiders get in!"
Icicle chuckles as they nod their head. The two men's lower faces are covered by masks, but their eyes are amused and calm with no sign of deceit. Icicle looks back at the Blank as if they realized something. "Right! You're new! That doesnt mean much to you." He gently hits himself on the head. "Short version is there's a bunch of Soul Colors out there, and the three of us are White Souls. This entire mountain range is our territory, so you'll only find other people like is beyond this gate. You're lucky you found us instead of the other savages out in the wilds."
"Like the Fallen..." Nives groans.
"Yeah... fucking Rusted..." he cusses, something about how he said that word feels like a slur... "Anyway! I'll open the gate!"
It tilts its head to the side. A slight smile gracing its lips. Itâs nice to know that there are other people, and people that will help it, at that. No more weird metal creatures trying to eat(?) it. It visibly relaxes. âThatâs good.â
Its eyebrows raise, and it looks down at its pale blueish skin, then over at the two men, as if comparing. It hasnât really wondered about how it looked while it was wandering throughout the seemingly endless Arena. Then, it glances around at the mountains, the snow, the gate. It frowns, glancing back towards the two guards. âWhat are the other soul colors? Whatâs wrong with them? The Fallen? The Rusted?â
It glances back towards the gate. It thinks the ice and pearl gate looks rather pretty. It lightly scrapes its foot against the snow on the ground, shifting it around.
Icicle huffs as they push open the grand doors of the gate. "Lets see..." they start, counting on their fingers. "White, that's us. Blue, green, gold, silver, and black... Thats it." They push open the second door of thr gate, the air filled with the groans of the hinges. "They're all uncivilized barbarians that eould rather kill each other over petty nonsense than actually do anything of value. You'll see what I mean if you ever make it to The Spire." They motion up the revealed snow dusted path.
Nives clears his throat awkwardly. "Icicle... the Primes did put out an order to send all blanks to the Spire."
"When was that!?"
"Uh-..... a week ago?"
"Why didn't you tell me!?"
"I'm telling you now!"
Icicle sighs. "Nevermind... guess what Blank, you're getting a direct trip to the capital itself."
It nods, listening as Icicle lists the different colors of souls. It would keep that in mind, and it sounds like it should avoid any soul that isnât a white soul, like itself. It looks over at the direction of âThe Spireâ curiously. Then turns back to the guards when they start talking again. Looking between them calculatingly.
âWhat is the spire? Whatâs it like?â It questions, its head tilting to the side. âPrimes? And why do I need to go there?â It glances between the nearby gate and the direction that Icicle had gestured to in reference of the Spire again. It wasnât completely eager to continue wandering around the hostile Arena.
"Spire is our capital, massive palace where the Primes live." Icicle only half explains while dragging out an old chest and opens it. "The path is safe but you can never be too careful." They hand the Blank a chain mail suit of armor and a belt with a dagger. "Never know if there could be a Synth attack. I'll escort you up to the Spire, Nives think you can handle solo duty?"
"Of course! I'm a professional!" He says stumbling into a salute.
"Riiight.... lets make this trip quick Blank." They start walking up the path and motion for them to follow.
It takes the chainmail and belt, pulling the belt on and the armor over its clothes. It nods, though itâs not entirely sure how itâll use the dagger. âThe Synths are the metal animal things?â It glances back to Nives, and nods curtly as if in a goodbye.
While it follows Icicle, it near constantly glances are the area around them. âWhat are the Primes like? Should I know the names ahead of time?â It glances over at Icicle for a moment as it asks the question before returning to its vigilant watch.
Icicle hums for a second. "I've never actually met them in person, its an honor to even share a room with them. I've only heard stories. Strongest warriors in all of Arena, glowing with divine might, the true Monarchs of all Arena." They speak in a grand tone. "Oh and yeah, Synths are those metal animals. We dont get many up here, but the fliers tend to sneak by."
The little silver soul had stayed on his back for a long time, staring at the sky as if it could tell him who he was, where he was, or what was going on. None of the answers were given, nor did he ask the questions.
When he eventually got up and found himself alone, he chose a random direction and started walking.
( @theexistance)
The sky was a dead cold gray, smudged with pale whispy clouds. The ground is loose like sand and covered with a layer of gray grass. The Silver Soul is wearing a gray shirt and pants with pale blue wire designs running down their arms and legs.
They keep walking for hours and hours across thr field until something in the distance catches their attention. A wagon carrying the bodies of dead robotic animals slowly rolls across a path in the dirt, surrounded by a band of people in armor. Someone in the caravan stops and waves down the Silver Soul, the wagon coming to a stop along side them.
A man from the wagon walks over to the Silver Soul, his hands in the air. "Ey' there Blank!" The man calls out. He wears armor of welded plate metal and a sword around his waist. "Walk with us 'kay?"
The man looks over the Blank silver as they make it back to the wagon. "Welcome to Arena Blank. I'm Iron." He hands the Blank a small bottle of a thick gray liquid. He motions to a larger beared man pulling the cart. "Thats Zinc, he's a softie inside." He then points to a person off to the side with a mask and gun, "Scary one is Irridium, our body guard. We're all Silver Souls like you." He doesnt really elaborate further, but he does seem genuine and kind. Looking around the Silver notices another figure in front of the caravan with their back turned and holding a bow.
This figure is of course what catches the soul's interest. They point to the figure at the head of the caravan, giving the man a questioning expression.
Iron nods slowly. "Thats Silver." His voice is mixed with fear and respect. "Be sure to show her some respect Blank, she's the strongest of us all." As they talk, Silver turns to look at the group. Iron turns away and clears his throat. "Course, you wouldn't know that now.... grab a seat in the wagon, i'll give you the basic rundown of Arena while we walk back to the city." Iron moves the severed head of a metal bird out of the way so the blank soul can have a place to sit. "Might as well start with what you are... you're a blank, a new arrival here. We all were blanks at some point, but we find our place eventually. You'll earn a name for yourself soon enough. I got my name Iron from how thick my skin is." He chuckles.
They nod along, paying close attention to everything that Iron said, though they are still focused on Silver. Eventually, they tear their eyes away from the leader and focused on the wagons themselves. They reach out to cautiously touch the severed metal bird head, frowning.
The bird head stares back at the Blank, its dead eyes empty voids. Iron's voice pulls their gaze back up. "These things are called Synths. Metal monsters that only exist for killing, see us as fuel for their systems. One you're looking at is a Spark Wing, a weaker thing, mostly just collects blood from people." He nods to the man in front of the cart, Zinc, and the cart starts moving as he pulls it. "We're heading to a big city called Sanctum to sell these machines for parts. Sanctum's a good place for Blanks like you. Plenty of jobs and information." Iron takes a bottle from his belt and takes a long swig, it smells strongly of alcohol. "Want some?" He offers out the bottle.
The blank shrugs and takes the bottle, spitting out the spit they took a moment later, coughing. They shove the bottle back at Iron, giving him a look of betrayal. They really did not remember what the smell of alcohol meant. It hadn't played a big enough part while they were still alive to mean anything now.
They give the Spark Wing one more pat, then retract their hand, staring ahead again. After a bit, they hop off the wagon, seemingly bored of whatever company they had been offered.
"Hey whoa!" Iron gently grabs the Blanks shoulder. "Dont go wondering off! Arena's dangerous, bandits and Synths everywhere. You just got here, it'd be a shame to loose ya so quick." He pats them on the shoulder as if to reassure them. "Never go out on your own unless you're equipped to!"
They stare longingly out across the field that to them looked so inviting. So vast and unknown. Then nod, and walk along side the wagon, unwilling to bother Zinc about stopping it again.
The wind blows gently across the fields, the air feeling icy cold. The sound of the wheels turning with the axle and across the ground are the only sounds apart from the boots of the people. The silence feels endless.
A metallic snarl like grinding gears echoes across the wind. The caravan stops amd everyone draws their weapons.
"Damn wolves." Zinc curses.
"Focus damnit." Iridium yells.
Iron steps in front of the Blank, his warhammer raised defensively. "Stay behind me." He looks back to check on them, just long enough to not see a giant metal wolf leap from the grass and lock its jaws around his head. Iron doesn't get a chance to scream as metal jaws crush his skull, silver blood like mercury spurts and sprays, covering the blanks clothes. The metal wolf leaps for the Blank but an arrow flies through its skull knocking its body to the ground.
Silver runs to the Blank's side. "You hurt?" She asks looking them over. "You know how to fight?" She asks while flakes of metal form into her palm and into a long sword she offers to the Blank.
The Blank stares at Iron, wide eyes trying to take and and compriend what had happened so quickly. Perhaps they should have left. They never would have known these people and never watched that happen. They look down at their clothing, then up at silver.
"No, ma'am, but I can try."
Their voice which they simply hadn't bothered to use before, seemed to drag it's way from their mouth like an unwilling child. They spoke slowly and with intent.
She throws the sword into the back of the wagon, and hands the Blank a revolver from her hip. "Shootings easy, point at the thing and pull the trigger. You miss, you die." She says bluntly. Her voices catches as she turns back to the Blank. "So... dont miss, and don't hit any of us." She turns back to the field of grass, the metallic snarls still moving through the tall weeds.
"Got one!" Zinc yelled firing into the grass, in less than a second a smaller wolf pounced. Its massive claws tore through Zinc's leg, silver blood spurting out from the wound. Zinc shoved his rifle into the wolf's jaws, screaming in pain and effort for help.
The Blank points the revolver at the wolf, but frowns, worried that they will hit Zinc. So instead, they focus on the wolf itself. On the porus darkness they saw inside it. Finding the weakspots where the emptyness was greatest. Then they pulled the trigger. Though all this happened very quickly from the outside, where others saw only a moments hesitation before the kill.
"Its Silver." She says, running a steel spike through a wolf's skull. "Cause their machines built only to kill." Her explanation is short, but rather to the point. A shield appears in her arm that she uses to bash a leaping wolf out of the air and onto the ground
The little silver soul had stayed on his back for a long time, staring at the sky as if it could tell him who he was, where he was, or what was going on. None of the answers were given, nor did he ask the questions.
When he eventually got up and found himself alone, he chose a random direction and started walking.
( @theexistance)
The sky was a dead cold gray, smudged with pale whispy clouds. The ground is loose like sand and covered with a layer of gray grass. The Silver Soul is wearing a gray shirt and pants with pale blue wire designs running down their arms and legs.
They keep walking for hours and hours across thr field until something in the distance catches their attention. A wagon carrying the bodies of dead robotic animals slowly rolls across a path in the dirt, surrounded by a band of people in armor. Someone in the caravan stops and waves down the Silver Soul, the wagon coming to a stop along side them.
A man from the wagon walks over to the Silver Soul, his hands in the air. "Ey' there Blank!" The man calls out. He wears armor of welded plate metal and a sword around his waist. "Walk with us 'kay?"
The man looks over the Blank silver as they make it back to the wagon. "Welcome to Arena Blank. I'm Iron." He hands the Blank a small bottle of a thick gray liquid. He motions to a larger beared man pulling the cart. "Thats Zinc, he's a softie inside." He then points to a person off to the side with a mask and gun, "Scary one is Irridium, our body guard. We're all Silver Souls like you." He doesnt really elaborate further, but he does seem genuine and kind. Looking around the Silver notices another figure in front of the caravan with their back turned and holding a bow.
This figure is of course what catches the soul's interest. They point to the figure at the head of the caravan, giving the man a questioning expression.
Iron nods slowly. "Thats Silver." His voice is mixed with fear and respect. "Be sure to show her some respect Blank, she's the strongest of us all." As they talk, Silver turns to look at the group. Iron turns away and clears his throat. "Course, you wouldn't know that now.... grab a seat in the wagon, i'll give you the basic rundown of Arena while we walk back to the city." Iron moves the severed head of a metal bird out of the way so the blank soul can have a place to sit. "Might as well start with what you are... you're a blank, a new arrival here. We all were blanks at some point, but we find our place eventually. You'll earn a name for yourself soon enough. I got my name Iron from how thick my skin is." He chuckles.
They nod along, paying close attention to everything that Iron said, though they are still focused on Silver. Eventually, they tear their eyes away from the leader and focused on the wagons themselves. They reach out to cautiously touch the severed metal bird head, frowning.
The bird head stares back at the Blank, its dead eyes empty voids. Iron's voice pulls their gaze back up. "These things are called Synths. Metal monsters that only exist for killing, see us as fuel for their systems. One you're looking at is a Spark Wing, a weaker thing, mostly just collects blood from people." He nods to the man in front of the cart, Zinc, and the cart starts moving as he pulls it. "We're heading to a big city called Sanctum to sell these machines for parts. Sanctum's a good place for Blanks like you. Plenty of jobs and information." Iron takes a bottle from his belt and takes a long swig, it smells strongly of alcohol. "Want some?" He offers out the bottle.
The blank shrugs and takes the bottle, spitting out the spit they took a moment later, coughing. They shove the bottle back at Iron, giving him a look of betrayal. They really did not remember what the smell of alcohol meant. It hadn't played a big enough part while they were still alive to mean anything now.
They give the Spark Wing one more pat, then retract their hand, staring ahead again. After a bit, they hop off the wagon, seemingly bored of whatever company they had been offered.
"Hey whoa!" Iron gently grabs the Blanks shoulder. "Dont go wondering off! Arena's dangerous, bandits and Synths everywhere. You just got here, it'd be a shame to loose ya so quick." He pats them on the shoulder as if to reassure them. "Never go out on your own unless you're equipped to!"
They stare longingly out across the field that to them looked so inviting. So vast and unknown. Then nod, and walk along side the wagon, unwilling to bother Zinc about stopping it again.
The wind blows gently across the fields, the air feeling icy cold. The sound of the wheels turning with the axle and across the ground are the only sounds apart from the boots of the people. The silence feels endless.
A metallic snarl like grinding gears echoes across the wind. The caravan stops amd everyone draws their weapons.
"Damn wolves." Zinc curses.
"Focus damnit." Iridium yells.
Iron steps in front of the Blank, his warhammer raised defensively. "Stay behind me." He looks back to check on them, just long enough to not see a giant metal wolf leap from the grass and lock its jaws around his head. Iron doesn't get a chance to scream as metal jaws crush his skull, silver blood like mercury spurts and sprays, covering the blanks clothes. The metal wolf leaps for the Blank but an arrow flies through its skull knocking its body to the ground.
Silver runs to the Blank's side. "You hurt?" She asks looking them over. "You know how to fight?" She asks while flakes of metal form into her palm and into a long sword she offers to the Blank.
The Blank stares at Iron, wide eyes trying to take and and compriend what had happened so quickly. Perhaps they should have left. They never would have known these people and never watched that happen. They look down at their clothing, then up at silver.
"No, ma'am, but I can try."
Their voice which they simply hadn't bothered to use before, seemed to drag it's way from their mouth like an unwilling child. They spoke slowly and with intent.
She throws the sword into the back of the wagon, and hands the Blank a revolver from her hip. "Shootings easy, point at the thing and pull the trigger. You miss, you die." She says bluntly. Her voices catches as she turns back to the Blank. "So... dont miss, and don't hit any of us." She turns back to the field of grass, the metallic snarls still moving through the tall weeds.
"Got one!" Zinc yelled firing into the grass, in less than a second a smaller wolf pounced. Its massive claws tore through Zinc's leg, silver blood spurting out from the wound. Zinc shoved his rifle into the wolf's jaws, screaming in pain and effort for help.
A white soul had spawned in a few days ago. Blank, aimless, wandering through the Arena. It doesnât know who, what, where it is.
It only really understands that this near-grayscale world is hostile, and it needs to keep its guard up. At this point in time, it is just in survival mode. Alert, aware and suspicious of every sound it hears and everything it sees.
Through the endless days of wandering the White Soul finds themselves walking across plains of gray grass and fending off strange wolves made of metal. They keep walking until they reach a mountain range extending miles in every direction. Theh follow a faint path into the mountains, the sandy ground slowly being covered in thick layers of snow.
Through the endless walking and the cold, a voice can be heard in the distance around a bend in the path. Peeking around the bend the White Soul sees a massive ice and pearl gate guarded by two figures in white armor.
"This is bullshit." It complains bitterly.
Another voice responds. "Dont let the commander hear you say that."
"It is though! This pass is so rarely used! We should just close the gate instead of placing guards here." The first voice yells back.
"You say its boring, I say its easy work. Better out here where the higher ups cant see us than back in the palace on Mistress White's personal guard."
Itâs unsure whether or not to go up to these strange people. It could be making a bad choice, these strangers could attack it. They certainly have the weapons to defeat it easily. And while it has noticed that it can do strange things with the ice and water, but it doesnât have arms from its elbow down. It knows that is a disadvantage here.
It might be worth it, to speak to these strange armored figures. It hasnât seen anything like them for days. It walks out from around the bend, ready to run if it needs to, braced for quick movement.
âHello?â It calls to the figures. Its voice is hesitant and quiet, it rasps from disuse.
The first of the men in armor looks caught off guard, a lance of ice appearing in his hand. "Who's there!?" He yells.
The other man grabs the lance and throws it away. "Its a Blank you idiot!" They smack the first man over the head and turn to the Blank. "Hey sorry about that! We're not gonna hurt you, you just surprised us!" They motion for the Blank to come closer.
It jumps and looks ready to bolt upon seeing the lance. Itâs bristling, looking like itâs ready to fight or run or anything else it needs to get away from the danger. Of course, it wouldnât really be able to fight against two guards alone, but maybe if it managed to look threatening enoughâŠ
It sort of goes tenser with shock when one of the men throws the lance away. It cautiously, slowly makes its way closer. âWho are you?â It asks, furrowing its eyebrows at the guards. âWhere am I?â
"I'm Icicle." The second guard says. "This dumbass is Nives. Welcome to Arena Blank." They say exasperated. "I get you have a lot of questions, good news that's normal. How you woke up happens to everyone."
It frowns. âKnivesâ(?) doesnât sound like a nice name. It checks out, with how quickly the guard was ready to impale them with that lance. Theyâre eyeing him warily throughout this whole conversation. âWhy am I here?â They question, tone bordering on accusatory. âHow did you summon that sharp weapon?â
Icicle sighs again. "Arena, everybody wakes up here, even us."
Nives shrugs. "Yeah pretty much, you wake up and find your place."
Icicle nods. "As for the lance Nives made, its just something we can do as White Souls. You're a White Soul too." He gestures at the blanks clothing, a white shirt and pants with blue snow flakes running down their arms and legs. "Just will the ice to form what you want and it will respond." They demonstrate by holding out their hands and a sword and shield manifest from their armor.
It tilts its head, like that would help it understand the concept of the arena, and the implications it has for its future, better. âSo weâre here because weâre here.â It nods, that sort of makes sense. Itâs not worth wasting energy to look for the answers to the world.
âOh.â It considers its skin and its clothes. If it had a mirror it would look at its eyes. Blues and whites greet it, similar to the snow around them. âInteresting.â It frowns, glancing down at its arms - or lack thereof - with concern. âCan I fix this?â It asks them, hesitant.
Nives shrugs. "You can probably just make new ones with your powers."
Icicle sighs again. "How are they gonna do that without experience or instructions?"
"Uh...."
"Hey Blank." Icicle turns to them. "This road past the gate leads to a town of souls like us. I can take you there and someone will help with your... arm issues." They reach into their pocket and pull out a frost covered key.
It glances between the two as they speak. It had noticed the ice and water being somewhat responsive(?) to it. That could have been an illusion of the endless gray, though. It immediately turns back to Icicle when addressed. Itâs hesitant. âIs it safe? The town is safe? Nobody will attack us? They can help? Will they?â Itâs very focused on their face when it asks the barrage of questions.
The two men chuckle. "We're White Souls, of course they will." Nives laughs. "Be kinda weird if a Monarch town didn't help us! We literally get paid to make sure no outsiders get in!"
Icicle chuckles as they nod their head. The two men's lower faces are covered by masks, but their eyes are amused and calm with no sign of deceit. Icicle looks back at the Blank as if they realized something. "Right! You're new! That doesnt mean much to you." He gently hits himself on the head. "Short version is there's a bunch of Soul Colors out there, and the three of us are White Souls. This entire mountain range is our territory, so you'll only find other people like is beyond this gate. You're lucky you found us instead of the other savages out in the wilds."
"Like the Fallen..." Nives groans.
"Yeah... fucking Rusted..." he cusses, something about how he said that word feels like a slur... "Anyway! I'll open the gate!"
It tilts its head to the side. A slight smile gracing its lips. Itâs nice to know that there are other people, and people that will help it, at that. No more weird metal creatures trying to eat(?) it. It visibly relaxes. âThatâs good.â
Its eyebrows raise, and it looks down at its pale blueish skin, then over at the two men, as if comparing. It hasnât really wondered about how it looked while it was wandering throughout the seemingly endless Arena. Then, it glances around at the mountains, the snow, the gate. It frowns, glancing back towards the two guards. âWhat are the other soul colors? Whatâs wrong with them? The Fallen? The Rusted?â
It glances back towards the gate. It thinks the ice and pearl gate looks rather pretty. It lightly scrapes its foot against the snow on the ground, shifting it around.
Icicle huffs as they push open the grand doors of the gate. "Lets see..." they start, counting on their fingers. "White, that's us. Blue, green, gold, silver, and black... Thats it." They push open the second door of thr gate, the air filled with the groans of the hinges. "They're all uncivilized barbarians that eould rather kill each other over petty nonsense than actually do anything of value. You'll see what I mean if you ever make it to The Spire." They motion up the revealed snow dusted path.
Nives clears his throat awkwardly. "Icicle... the Primes did put out an order to send all blanks to the Spire."
"When was that!?"
"Uh-..... a week ago?"
"Why didn't you tell me!?"
"I'm telling you now!"
Icicle sighs. "Nevermind... guess what Blank, you're getting a direct trip to the capital itself."
It nods, listening as Icicle lists the different colors of souls. It would keep that in mind, and it sounds like it should avoid any soul that isnât a white soul, like itself. It looks over at the direction of âThe Spireâ curiously. Then turns back to the guards when they start talking again. Looking between them calculatingly.
âWhat is the spire? Whatâs it like?â It questions, its head tilting to the side. âPrimes? And why do I need to go there?â It glances between the nearby gate and the direction that Icicle had gestured to in reference of the Spire again. It wasnât completely eager to continue wandering around the hostile Arena.
"Spire is our capital, massive palace where the Primes live." Icicle only half explains while dragging out an old chest and opens it. "The path is safe but you can never be too careful." They hand the Blank a chain mail suit of armor and a belt with a dagger. "Never know if there could be a Synth attack. I'll escort you up to the Spire, Nives think you can handle solo duty?"
"Of course! I'm a professional!" He says stumbling into a salute.
"Riiight.... lets make this trip quick Blank." They start walking up the path and motion for them to follow.
The little silver soul had stayed on his back for a long time, staring at the sky as if it could tell him who he was, where he was, or what was going on. None of the answers were given, nor did he ask the questions.
When he eventually got up and found himself alone, he chose a random direction and started walking.
( @theexistance)
The sky was a dead cold gray, smudged with pale whispy clouds. The ground is loose like sand and covered with a layer of gray grass. The Silver Soul is wearing a gray shirt and pants with pale blue wire designs running down their arms and legs.
They keep walking for hours and hours across thr field until something in the distance catches their attention. A wagon carrying the bodies of dead robotic animals slowly rolls across a path in the dirt, surrounded by a band of people in armor. Someone in the caravan stops and waves down the Silver Soul, the wagon coming to a stop along side them.
A man from the wagon walks over to the Silver Soul, his hands in the air. "Ey' there Blank!" The man calls out. He wears armor of welded plate metal and a sword around his waist. "Walk with us 'kay?"
The man looks over the Blank silver as they make it back to the wagon. "Welcome to Arena Blank. I'm Iron." He hands the Blank a small bottle of a thick gray liquid. He motions to a larger beared man pulling the cart. "Thats Zinc, he's a softie inside." He then points to a person off to the side with a mask and gun, "Scary one is Irridium, our body guard. We're all Silver Souls like you." He doesnt really elaborate further, but he does seem genuine and kind. Looking around the Silver notices another figure in front of the caravan with their back turned and holding a bow.
This figure is of course what catches the soul's interest. They point to the figure at the head of the caravan, giving the man a questioning expression.
Iron nods slowly. "Thats Silver." His voice is mixed with fear and respect. "Be sure to show her some respect Blank, she's the strongest of us all." As they talk, Silver turns to look at the group. Iron turns away and clears his throat. "Course, you wouldn't know that now.... grab a seat in the wagon, i'll give you the basic rundown of Arena while we walk back to the city." Iron moves the severed head of a metal bird out of the way so the blank soul can have a place to sit. "Might as well start with what you are... you're a blank, a new arrival here. We all were blanks at some point, but we find our place eventually. You'll earn a name for yourself soon enough. I got my name Iron from how thick my skin is." He chuckles.
They nod along, paying close attention to everything that Iron said, though they are still focused on Silver. Eventually, they tear their eyes away from the leader and focused on the wagons themselves. They reach out to cautiously touch the severed metal bird head, frowning.
The bird head stares back at the Blank, its dead eyes empty voids. Iron's voice pulls their gaze back up. "These things are called Synths. Metal monsters that only exist for killing, see us as fuel for their systems. One you're looking at is a Spark Wing, a weaker thing, mostly just collects blood from people." He nods to the man in front of the cart, Zinc, and the cart starts moving as he pulls it. "We're heading to a big city called Sanctum to sell these machines for parts. Sanctum's a good place for Blanks like you. Plenty of jobs and information." Iron takes a bottle from his belt and takes a long swig, it smells strongly of alcohol. "Want some?" He offers out the bottle.
The blank shrugs and takes the bottle, spitting out the spit they took a moment later, coughing. They shove the bottle back at Iron, giving him a look of betrayal. They really did not remember what the smell of alcohol meant. It hadn't played a big enough part while they were still alive to mean anything now.
They give the Spark Wing one more pat, then retract their hand, staring ahead again. After a bit, they hop off the wagon, seemingly bored of whatever company they had been offered.
"Hey whoa!" Iron gently grabs the Blanks shoulder. "Dont go wondering off! Arena's dangerous, bandits and Synths everywhere. You just got here, it'd be a shame to loose ya so quick." He pats them on the shoulder as if to reassure them. "Never go out on your own unless you're equipped to!"
They stare longingly out across the field that to them looked so inviting. So vast and unknown. Then nod, and walk along side the wagon, unwilling to bother Zinc about stopping it again.
The wind blows gently across the fields, the air feeling icy cold. The sound of the wheels turning with the axle and across the ground are the only sounds apart from the boots of the people. The silence feels endless.
A metallic snarl like grinding gears echoes across the wind. The caravan stops amd everyone draws their weapons.
"Damn wolves." Zinc curses.
"Focus damnit." Iridium yells.
Iron steps in front of the Blank, his warhammer raised defensively. "Stay behind me." He looks back to check on them, just long enough to not see a giant metal wolf leap from the grass and lock its jaws around his head. Iron doesn't get a chance to scream as metal jaws crush his skull, silver blood like mercury spurts and sprays, covering the blanks clothes. The metal wolf leaps for the Blank but an arrow flies through its skull knocking its body to the ground.
Silver runs to the Blank's side. "You hurt?" She asks looking them over. "You know how to fight?" She asks while flakes of metal form into her palm and into a long sword she offers to the Blank.
The Endless Cycles @arenaoftheafterlife - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
