It was the rational minded Elidibus who had suggested not to delay Steel's death. Certainly not about mercy; it was just the best idea to finish it quickly so there was no last minute rally by the defensive forces. No escape of his essence into the tangled web of machine existence. To this end he strikes the defenders down and seems for a moment content at his role of keeping his allies free to execute the Avatar.
Until Yelena passes the gun to Cortana. Caught out of the periphery of his vision, Elidibus is suddenly made aware of how much Zyrian may have gleaned from his time as an Avatar of some machine mainframe. How much more the millionaire may know about the status quo of this world and its fear-based 'divinities'.
All Steel is and was, it was about to slip away to return to whatever Underworld this world possessed. A singular, obsessive thought urged Elidibus to act. He must obtain it before it is gone.
Ignoring the nauseating twist of desire or any of a usually formidable restraint and will- something those that know him well would be shocked to see- the silver-haired man swiftly drops his blade and holds out his hand with the palm facing the tangled mess of wires and Zyrian Steel. A red sigil appears before his focused features; the instincts urging him to treat this as some magicks of importance.
But it will all be for naught. While something might have stirred for a moment, the last of his carefully stored fuel for his powers on Earth had been near their end. Compelled to try to their very exhaustion, the sigil abruptly flicks out of existence and any aura of power about him immediately shuts off. He is utterly silenced by the abrupt return to mortal human.
Aches and injury that were staved off by subtle, passive forces slam into him. The half-healed ankle causes him to collapse to one knee again as it gives out. Yet the only expression on Elidibus's features at the time is one of complete frustration and disappointment.
"No..." With his power gone again, so too is any hope he had of salvaging what might have been useful knowledge. And it's a bitter feeling he can't seem to drag himself out of.
no subject
Until Yelena passes the gun to Cortana. Caught out of the periphery of his vision, Elidibus is suddenly made aware of how much Zyrian may have gleaned from his time as an Avatar of some machine mainframe. How much more the millionaire may know about the status quo of this world and its fear-based 'divinities'.
All Steel is and was, it was about to slip away to return to whatever Underworld this world possessed. A singular, obsessive thought urged Elidibus to act. He must obtain it before it is gone.
Ignoring the nauseating twist of desire or any of a usually formidable restraint and will- something those that know him well would be shocked to see- the silver-haired man swiftly drops his blade and holds out his hand with the palm facing the tangled mess of wires and Zyrian Steel. A red sigil appears before his focused features; the instincts urging him to treat this as some magicks of importance.
But it will all be for naught. While something might have stirred for a moment, the last of his carefully stored fuel for his powers on Earth had been near their end. Compelled to try to their very exhaustion, the sigil abruptly flicks out of existence and any aura of power about him immediately shuts off. He is utterly silenced by the abrupt return to mortal human.
Aches and injury that were staved off by subtle, passive forces slam into him. The half-healed ankle causes him to collapse to one knee again as it gives out. Yet the only expression on Elidibus's features at the time is one of complete frustration and disappointment.
"No..." With his power gone again, so too is any hope he had of salvaging what might have been useful knowledge. And it's a bitter feeling he can't seem to drag himself out of.