A Long Journey: Sylas's Recovery Thread (Join with Permission)

Some Weeks after the Battle
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The only constant patient in the Infirmary, the Death Scythe Sylas Hammer continue his recovery. His own healing factor had mended the lesser injuries, and with the help of surgery was helping to heal the rest. He now had sparse moments of consciousness, though given his condition, and the level of painkillers, he'd yet to speak a word.

Viator proved to be his only constant company, the ethereal aspect of madness often hiding unless the visitor intrigued him enough to warrant otherwise.

"Woooooooooooow, I forgot how ugly you looked in person, Sylas old chap."

Stepping from the shadows was Inker, world renown supervillain, Kishin Egg, and all around jerk. "I mean, seriously, that FACE."


He would chuckle. "Ah, but, good news is, you'll recover, which is good for me. After all, you still have a role to play."

Viator looked up from where he'd been lounging beside their body, shifting his gaze from the stumps that were their right leg and arm. "He's sleeping. Do try and be quiet." The whisper looked weak as well, if that seemed possible. A side effect of him handling most of the spiritual functions while Sylas, who had been in control when their body had been torn asunder, recovered.

"I am quiet. A side effect of my madness wavelength is the fact that my voice ... carries, bolstered by the despair of those around me. I could whisper as softly as a lamb, and my voice would still be this loud."  Inkers cold, yellow eyes would settle on Sylas. "I assume you are the remnant? Wake him up. I need to .... discuss things with him. Things of a vital nature."

Viator rubbed his 'eyes', looking from Inker to Sylas and back. "I make no promises. He needs to sleep." He exhaled a sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. After some moments, Sylas's eyes opened slowly, and his head turned to look at Inker.

"Sylas. I have... made progress on that project I informed you of. The one to seal away Nebun, and now, unfortunately, Glaucon." Inker would raise his hand, and the image of a massive superstructure could be seen. A hologram? "The Void Sarcophagus. A giant power nullifier and portal. However, as of yet, it remains....incomplete."

Sylas did the only thing he felt strong enough to do, nodding his head at the image. Viator looked more interested, leaning forward in his chair. "Incomplete how?"

"I am missing several catalytic agents to fuel its final abilities. At the moment, it would WORK, but it wouldn't work GOOD." Inker would say, his eyes unblinking behind his mask. "To be put simply, what it needs is souls. A specific type of soul. Witch souls, and a VERY powerful monster soul is required to empower it."

Sylas nodded again, the drugs already dulling his senses to the point where his eyes had just about drooped closed again. Viator looked up at Inker, gesturing to Sylas. "Tell me the rest, and let him sleep. He's expended a lot of energy to keep him alive. I can tell him whatever you tell me."

Inker would sigh. "Very well, remnant. To be put simply, I was GOING to propose a joint strike by both my forces and those of the academy upon Reavers VILE school, the university. It would allow me to gather the needed witch souls, it would move one player off the board, and it would be personally satisfying to me immensely."

Viator leaned to the right in the chair, watching Inker. "Reaver's University is empty, it's halls abandoned save for whatever creatures now inhabit it. You would be better trying to find the Witches' Conclave than to mount a strike against an empty fortress."

Viator looked from Inker to Sylas, then back, a brow raised. "I don't see him waking up and walking out of here any time soon, do you?"

"....What if I told you I had a way to speed up his recovery somewhat. A purely hypothetical way. At the cost of a few of his collected souls." Inker would say, looming, a smirk in his voice.

"I'd tell you to shove it. We're willing to cooperate, Inker. We're not stupid enough to trust you with our lives, or our limbs." He crossed his arms and put one leg over the other, watching the kishin egg.

"Such DISTRUST, and at a moment you REALLY can't afford to be distrustful. Besides, I need Sylas alive AND functioning at peak capacity for my various plans to work. So it would be detrimental for me to harm you, simply put." Inker would say with a touch of annoyance.

Viator leaned forward, never once breaking 'eye' contact with the kishin. "Tell me what you want to do, and I'll think about it."

The Kishin would reach into his cloak, and pull out...

Well, at first glance, it seemed like some sort of cube, split into four parts, orbiting each other, connected, yet not touching. Further, as it floated in Inkers hand, it seemed to have a field surrounding it of some sort. "Black Box Omega Requiem. Coreless model. A magic tool designed to increase ones power. This one, being coreless, unlike my other Black Boxes, gives only a small boost, but requires only a few souls, in the number of twenty, to activate. Theoretically, it SHOULD increase the rate Sylas heals at. Worst case scenario is it boosts his OTHER powers and not the healing factor."

Viator looked at the box for a few moments before gesturing to a stand beside Sylas's bed. "Put it there. I'll have someone give it to him when he wakes up."

Inker would comply, placing it by the bedside. "Now that thats dealt with, I must be on my way. Remember, witch cult. France. Even if Sylas can't come personally, I would like the Acadamies help."

With that, Inker would step into the shadowy part of the room, and he was gone.

Viator sighed, leaning back in his chair and watching both Sylas and the box, hoping the rest of the day would be uneventful.

---
Segment end

It was several hours later when someone else finally came in, clad in black skinny jeans and a white belt, heeled black boots, a cut-off white tank top, and a leather jacket. Her hair was mostly black, with the front completely white --- one eye red, and the other brown. "Viator," came a voice, clearly recognized as Tsukiko's; "Sylas," far harsher, more serious --- Kazuko.

Sylas slowly opened his eyes, looking up at them weakly. Viator flickered into existence in the chair, looking up at them. Inker's box sat in the same spot, untouched.

The right side of their mouth twitched up as their eyes met the body. "Went and got yourself into the losing end of a fight there, Death Scythe?" She shook their head, Kazuko's voice in control. Their eyes went to the box, and Tsukiko's side twitched up in a smile. "There's an awful lot of... chaos here, Prēmī." She turned their head this time, eyes locking on the illusion's, the maroon eye sparkling.

(lover)

Viator's eyes moved from the other Teacher to Sylas, nodding to him in silent communication. "I'll be talking for the pair of us. He's still too weak for words..." He looked to the box. "Chaos is easy around us. Order is not."