The God Protocol, A Fic by Redkinoko and Karasawa Rui Options

[redkinoko]

Chapter One: The One from House Edison

"Science has been, for all its lengthy and obscure existence, an evolutionary path that man has taken in his unending quest of improvement. Long since abandoning the original goal of survival, evolution is leading him towards a completely new destination - the attainment of perfection, the attainment of Divinity."

- Chancellor Bertrand Orin, Chronicles of Alchemy Vol. VI

The constant rumble of heavy wheels rolling past the uneven pebbled roadway echoed across the grass lawn frontage where it caught the attention of a couple of in-house gardeners squatted to mow the morning growth. A sleek black carriage being pulled by four exquisitely plumed black Pecopecos tore through the morning mist, speeding away from the iron wrought gates and into the outer courtyard where it stopped on the carrporte-cochère of a ominous three-storey domed building that served as the centerpiece of the entire compound.

A young valet standing beside the blue-bricked walls of the building hurriedly rushed to the stopped carriage and swung the door open as graciously as he could.

"Welcome to the Biochemieinstitut von Lighthalzen," he said with full Lighthalzein accent and an accompanying slight bow.

From behind the red curtained entrance of the ominous looking carriage, a lady in a full white knee-length church dress appeared. Her aquamarine eyes showed neither delight nor apprehension and her hair, slightly frizzed was frosted white.

She hopped off the final step of the carriage with grace that made her seem floating. After landing her two feet on the ground she offered her hand inside the carriage and clasped a red gloved hand, belonging to a lady dressed in a full carmine ball gown with a fully-bustled skirt that gracefully squeezed its way out inside the cabin.

The face of the lady in red was covered by a simple velvet Sunday hat and a crisscrossed morning veil that revealed but an outline of her face.

A loud boom knocked the awestruck valet back to his senses as the large wooden door of the institute hit the back wall after being swung open.

"Ah, there you are," a loud full voice came from inside, followed by the appearance of a rotund constable sporting a full red beard, dressed complete with his rather misplaced bucket hat, "we were expecting you somewhat later today actually. But good to see that you're here."

The lady raised her head and tilted the hat slightly to see the constable. "I came as soon as I could. I was at a business affair when your messenger came to me so I deem this of an urgent matter?"

The lady in red and her albino assistant followed the constable immediately inside, where a couple of heads turned to where they were. It was a known fact that despite Lighthalzen itself was known for grandiosity, few fashion-sensible people ever entered, or found the need to enter the institute.

"An urgent matter indeed. Thank you for your quick response, Madame Steinmetz," said the man who quickly paced along the marble flooring of the baroquely designed lobby of the building.

The lady in red was quick to reply, "Please, I'm a scientist before I am a Madame. Call me Valeria - Valeria of House Edison." She gave a smile, which quickly faded into hints of contempt.

The constable cleared his throat, echoing across the hall filled with portraits of aged looking people. "As you wish, Mada - Miss Valeria. Anyway, we have all initial documentations prepared for your perusal."

Valeria removed her hat, revealing braided ebon hair that ran down her waist. "Let me get this cleared up first," she said, "the Valkyrie specimen just disappeared you say?"

"Yes, ma'am."
"Disappeared?"
"Yes."
"Into thin air?"

The constable sighed as he stole a glimpse at the lady beside him. "Well, there was a hole in the ground where the holding tank was," he said with much hesitation.

"So it didn't disappear?" Valeria asked without changing any intonation in her voice. The constable nodded defeatedly, probably in shock of being interrogated after playing the role of interrogator all his life.

The two arrived at a room guarded by two other lower-ranking constables with identical matchlocks at hand. Valeria was quick to open the door and then turned to the constable "Any witnesses?"

The constable rubbed his forehead as they entered the place. Everything looked like it was exposed to flame wood charred metal partially melted and the floor was black with carbon soot. Towards the middle of the room, a gaping hole was present. "Only Chancellor Tesla was working that night in this lab so - "

"Tesla?" Valeria interrupted with hints of agitation. Her white companion turned to the constable as well. "Where is she?" Valeria asked.

"We tried looking for the chancellor but we couldn't find anything. She was in this room last night so we can assume she either vanished in the firestorm or fell into the hole. The only thing she'd left was a leather-bound notebook written in Einbrochy. It survived whatever happened here because of some sort of chemical protection. We haven't gotten translators working on it because of The God Protocol being enforced in these premises," replied the Constable as he reached for a clear plastic bag containing the article.

Valeria grabbed the plastic bag and handed it over to her companion. "Cherypovka," she said, "work on the translation immediately. I'll make this an exemption to sixth article of the God Protocol on grounds of compromised safety."

The lady known as Cherypovka nodded mechanically. This caught the constable's attention, the oddness of the lady who had been following them form the entrance. "Is she..?"

"Cherypovka, a Lif derivative homunculus," Valeria replied, mouth hanging in a half-yawn. The constable took another look at Valeria's assistant. It was a homunculus different from what appeared in the outside world after all, Lifs had green hair and a childlike appearance - or at least they're supposed to.

Valeria approached the gaping hole, making sure her heeled shoes were stable along the cracked flooring leading to the hole. It was a known fact that the creator working on that lab that evening never kept any notebooks, or found the need to do so. Notebooks can be stolen, a perfect medium for intellectual thievery. And yet, here and now, a notebook?

Tesla, what are you up to?

Cherypovka emerged beside Valeria, still quickly leafing through page after page. "Master, I've completed preliminary translations. Do I begin narration?" she asked with a very minute voice.

The Constable heard this and found it his cue to leave. He gave a wordless bow and closed the room's only door. Valeria paced back to one of the surviving chairs, torched black from heat, and sat as expected of a lady.

"Read the entries to me Cherypovka, and don't miss a word."

[Addy]

Me: *0* way to leave me hanging Kinko >.>

[Karasawa Rui]

Chapter Two - The One from House Tesla

My father once told me - and he was a man of very few words - that Science, by all rights, should be considered a perversion of itself unless it has, as its ultimate goal, the betterment of humanity. That the most radical, most unethical, most immoral of experiments should be allowed and not be judged at face value, so long as they were performed with the interests of humanity in mind. No boundary should exist to impede progress, no law to impede evolution - for such an act would be completely illogical, even heretical, to the human instinct of transcendence.

She arrived at the Institute half an hour late - one of the Schwarzwald Republic Kirovs that she had been working on as Chief Maintenance Engineer needed repairs, and grudgingly obliging those who had been kind enough to take her in before her recent admission, she slaved the entire night recalibrating the gargantuan flying machine back into order. It was no excuse, she knew - one could miss an entire life's work culminating into a dazzling success by merely blinking; what more can one miss in the span of half an hour? And she had also planned to dress up for the day, too - the cityfolk she had observed during her tour of duty on the republic airline were garbed with but the most fashionable of robes; clothes fit for those of noble blood and deep pockets. It would be crass of her, even downright rude, to come in looking as if she had been sleeping in the engine room of a Kirov. Although that wasn't quite the approximation of her current state, it was close - her usually neat, platinum-blonde hair was in a tangle of complete, unruly disarray. Her glasses - wide-rimmed and turtlehorned, the pair she had inherited from her own father, the pair she spent days polishing, sat askew on the bridge of her nose. Her clothes - a cream coat over a brown leather vest and long-sleeved starch blouse, a knee-length black skirt - all looked as if they were hastily thrown upon at the moment of arrival.

Tracing her father's footsteps, moving into his shadow.

With nothing but wrinkled clothes, bed hair, and a tightly-clutched recommendation letter to show for it.

She contemplated turning back, of course. She toyed with the urge to tear her recommendation letter apart, to concede that it was not really meant to be - but she knew that if she were to walk away, she would not only be forsaking everything she had gone through, she would also be insulting the memory of her own father.

She reached for the heavy-looking, ornate brass ring knocker with a mitten-clad hand. Standing on tiptoe - she was a bit on the short side - she raised the ring as far as she could, then slammed it down with all the force she could muster.

Like everyone else, I thought that my father had finally gone insane.

People tell me I am much like him.

The massive door swung open - and an entire company of soldiers, their flintlocks held with an almost arrogant ease, welcomed her.

"What business do you have with the Institute?" They asked.

She did not speak, and merely showed them the letter - particularly the embossed wax seal that held the missive secure. One of the soldiers broke formation, and she stifled the urge to laugh at his ridiculous wisp of a moustache as he studied the seal. He nodded at her, oblivious to her humor.

"You are expected, madame. Right this way."

And she followed them into the building - the building that held many secrets, and looked as though it was hungry for more.

Not for one moment in my life did my father steer me, nor goad or cajole me into his profession. In retrospect, I believe it was me who twisted his arm for the recommendation letter. I decided it to be so - and frankly, I have had no regrets whatsoever.

Until now.

This journal belongs to Illyasviel Tesla, Chancellor of Lighthalzein;
Chief of Biochemistry of the Biochemieinstitut von Lighthalzen;
Daughter of Nikolov Tesla, citizen of Rune Midgard.
Written today, on a rainy friday afternoon, December 3, 908.

Should anyone other than myself come into possession of this collection of memories, ideas and thoughts - then it's safe to say that I am amongst one of the dead, hopefully buried alongside my own father. That, or you are an abnormally dexterous thief who knows how to read mirrored Einbrochy. If it's the latter, then you might as well put this book down and burn it. There is nothing for you here except my memories, my nightmares, my hopes, my dreams.


She was ushered into a room - the direct route to she couldn't exactly fathom, she was too busy trying to take in everything at the same time. Students, assistants that they passed by spoke in whispers, stealing glances at her and murmuring their assessments. A crowd of white soon trailed after them, their murmurs and chatter an irritating buzz on her ears. But that soon was extinguished as she entered that very room - treading forward quietly as she detected raised voices from behind the door.

"Pardon Madame Steinmetz," One of the soldiers murmured. "She debates with the Chief on a daily basis."

She nodded, pushing the door open with one hand, her recommendation letter gripped tightly in the other.

"YOU HAVE NOT THE SLIGHTEST INKLING OF WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" A young woman - one should really say a girl, she was young but yet not quite - railed against a swarthy, wizened old man who sat behind a simple mahogany desk with a bored expression on his face. "ABSOLUTE INANITY! I should have you taken off the board--"

"There's no need to shout, Edison," The man chided in a rather patronizing, if placating tone. He turned to HER - and his rheumy gray eyes lit up. "Ah, I see we have a visitor."

"What's this?" The girl called Edison spat, her voice crisp and sharp. "Another hand for the boiler rooms? We certainly keep losing them, do we?"

"Not exactly. My dear, I assume you have your letter?"

She nodded, and gave it to him - with all the trepidation and worry of a mother letting another hold her child. The man carefully broke the seal, then unfolded the creased paper, his lips twitching into a smile as he read.

"Edison - or should I say Valeria - meet Illyasviel Tesla." He said, rising and clasping both of the girl's hands in his, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Valeria's jaw hung slack in an expression of comedic surprise. "Your father would have wanted to see you here, today, right in the very room he had studied in."

"I am glad to be of acquaintance," The girl - Illyasviel - smiled back, bed hair, askew glasses, wrinkled clothes and all. "I am here to make my father proud."

My name is Illyasviel Tesla. My birthright is god.

This post has been edited by Karasawa Rui: Nov 2 2006, 10:27 PM

[Addy]

Me: *__* as always, Rui-sama's entries cause the hair on the back of my neck to stand on ends. <3 Flawless descriptions on both Kinko and Rui-sama's parts, I can't wait to read more! *embosses self onto the thread* <3

[Magician in Jean...]

One thing.

Make sure you finish this one O_O.

[Addy]

Me: You know, a collab between Rui-sama, Kinko and MiJ would be made of pure WIN <3 *coughI'mnotmakingahintcough*

[redkinoko]

Chapter Three: Oil and Water

God as her birthright? Such brazen words - I expected no less from the journal of that woman.

Perhaps the ultimate purpose of fate, if there is such a thing, is to make life as entertaining as possible to the All Father’s all-seeing eye. Of all the Houses that I could have worked with in that project, it just had to be that daughter of Tesla. A common riffraff is what I saw that day. It took a very long time for that to change, if for anything significant at all.


Valeria's narrowed eyes scanned her visitor from head to toe and found the sight of an uninducted commoner in the premises of her office slightly repulsive. Being of aristocratic upbringing of course, she tried her best to keep her smirk from surfacing in a futile exercise of control.

"May I?" she asked the Chief with lethargy, her hand extended towards the letter. The Chief cleared his throat and took a step back, as though to let the two girls dish it out in some make-believe center stage.

Valeria slip on a chained monocle she took out from a barely recognizable pocket on her coat, unfurled the letter, and exaggeratingly raised the manuscript for everybody in the room to see. It was quite unbecoming of anybody reading personal correspondence.

She then read out loud with a voice trained on farce, "Madame Valeria Steinmetz-Edison, there are only two practitioners in this world that I look up to. You are one of the two. The other is - "

The chief strained to hear her say it. Valeria paused to lower the letter a bit and then fixed her monacle towards the lady in front of her. " – is this woman. Signed, Ranould Morgan,“ she said in a fleeting voice of disbelief.

Illyasviel gave a barely-there snicker, her teeth showing at the Madame, giving off a "that can only be me" signal to Valeria, who took it rather roughly.

"Chief, are you sure this letter did not get lost in transit and got picked up by some common thief along the way?" asked Valeria. The Chief didn't know how to react, knowing any protestation would result in another debate that would waste her time. He bought time by giving a slight shrug and a forced cough.

Of the various houses in the republic that prided in the pursuit of the scientific advances in biochemistry, my house, the House of Edison was, if I may say so, rivaled by only one other house. House Tesla. Suffice to say, our clans have been clashing in the field of achievement for so long that disfavor of the other house is almost instinctive for all involved.

"I wouldn't know about that Madame Steinmetz," Illyasviel retorted, her eyes wandering around the various artifacts found inside the room, "when it comes to such petty crimes, shouldn't it be best that we not delve on the subject of possible thievery, especially for praises and oh, say, patents for vitreous incubators from other Houses?"

"That's Edison to you; thank you very much. And I’ll have none of that dead farcical issue resurrected in this office," Valeria snapped back and rolled her eyes as she walked back to her table, "whether or not you are what we are looking for shall be decided not here but in the laboratories."

The chief pocketed his hands and gave a sigh. Like water and oil, he said to himself. Even a god would cringe at the task of making the two houses mix in harmony. Illya merely kept her smirk on.

A divine destiny? I wouldn't really know how she thought about things at that time. What she did prove to me in our short time spent together though, was why the House of Tesla the only thing that stood opposing to the great House of Edison.

[liureiyi]

posted na pala,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/smile.gif)

a promising fic,.. awee, . .

ladies rule,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/biggrin.gif)



*** mga babae bida dito ah,.. ***

[Addy]

Me: *whistles* Things are heating up :3 <3 update soon please <3

[Karasawa Rui]

You must think it's bold of me to proclaim something like that, even...overtly ambitious, if you want to mince words. I can say that I even surprised myself, having the audacity to proclaim it in any shape or form, even if it's as something as private and trivial as this journal. But I believed it. Every single word of it. Like a child that believes in fairy tales and magical beings, like a crochety old woman holding onto the flimsiest of superstitions, or like a filial daughter vowing to make her father proud of her no matter the cost. For me, it was the truth, and no one had been able to convince me otherwise.

At least, until I met Valeria.

"A typical Edison response, if I may so myself." Illyasviel adjusted her glasses, her almond-shaped crimson eyes narrowing condescendingly at Valeria. "But I concur - the kind words of Lord Morgan, printed on parchment and marked with his own family seal can only go so far in convincing my peers of my abilities."

She gave a curt nod to the Chief - and - in a lopsided parody of Valeria's manners - curtsied.

"If I may be so excused. Good day, sir. Good day - Mistress Steinmeitz."

Beautiful, focused, disciplined, well-groomed - and she carried that lab coat as if it was a ballgown - I felt my already meager chances of attaining what had been out of my own father's grasp slipping away, just being in the same room with her. It was stifling, and my knees felt as if they were going to lock up on me or simply give way had I moved a single inch. Behold, Valeria Edison-Steinmetz. Behold, the slaughterer of the lamb before you.

Behold, the woman everything my father wanted for a daughter.

Proving myself worthy of the recommendation was in itself an already daunting task, but with her inevitably criticizing and watching my every move like a hawk, it would be next to impossible.

Still, I have to try.

The Biochemeinstitut of Lighthalzein is a multi-storied facility - in this case, the first floor is the ground floor. This is the receiving floor for any and all visitors, with its polished marble floors, sangoire carpeting, gold-trimmed piping, as well as pictures of past alumni and awards from His Majesty for the various key achievements made by said alumni. I was dazzled by all of this - it gave me an impression that I was entering a most lucrative, glamorous career that also focused on the betterment of humanity and society as its most utmost goal.

In retrospect, this could not have been farther from the truth.

Being a multi-storied facility, the Institute has floors - except that they progress downwards, deeper into the earth, rather than into the sky above. The tourist explanation for it was that as Biochemistry dealt with nature, it should be as close and as intimate with it as possible, thus the inverted floor progression. However, ask any biochemist on their way home the real reason, and they will answer the same way.

"Buried secrets bury less men."

Every Biochemist in the payroll have clearance levels assigned to them, in accordance to experience, achievement and position. The first level is Yellow Clearance - which is access to the 2B floor. Orange Clearance meant you could access any floor from the lobby to the 3B floor. Red Clearance, up to 4B. Violet Clearance, up to 5B, and so on. The top level-clearance - which only the Chief has possession of - has Black Clearance, which meant he can access virtually any floor of the Institute. This security system, albeit colorful, gave each Biochemist the guarantee that no upstart in a lower level than theirs would try and plagiarize their current projects.

Being a Tesla, I was given Blue Clearance - 6B. My laboratory and my living quarters would be in the same level as Valeria's. I could've lived with that comfortably, but the fact that our laboratories were next to each other threatened to take the heart of me.

This will be an uphill battle all the way.

Fortunately, the event that would turn the tables in my favor happened as soon as I had unpacked my clothes.

[Addy]

Me: *0* just so I'm clear, this is all a 'flashback' like thing, right? We don't know what really happened to cause the hole, yeah?

[liureiyi]

ahh,..binabasa na ni Valeria yung journal ni Tesla,... ?????

aww,. yeah,.. ano yung hole,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/biggrin.gif)

[redkinoko]

Chapter Five: The Anubis

Days after Illya arrived, I found myself fighting battles in two fronts - one to finish my pet project that I was then spearheading and another to keep check and balance to my new team member Illya, who was proving her self to be quite the out-of-the-box thinker that's expected of every Tesla. And if ever there is something that separates the genius from the madman, it is the ability to produce results. Only one name could ever be associated with that project. That in mind, the undertaking itself between me and Illya was no more a joint effort than two sharks feasting on the same dead carcass is teamwork.

But then of course, one has to act the perfect courtier all the time, even with enemies at the gate.

Valeria's eyes widened from its narrow slits and focused at the light of the partially opened door of her office. Everywhere else around the room was dark. She rubbed her eyes a bit and nodded to the idea that she had fallen asleep at work again.

To the glint of the hallway light she checked a plain silver pocket watch from her tanned leather work vest. Ten thirty in the evening. She must have been idling for an hour or so already.

After a quick facial wash in a nearby porcelain sink used for her recreational experiment, she dried herself with a white towel and closed the office door shut.

Anubis - a forgotten deity from the south that is said to have passed on the judgment for dead beings. Project Index ID NN0236777, my project, was named after that god for a good reason.

Valeria removed her chaleco and thin cotton long sleeved undergarment, exposing her lithe body outline under the bathing rays of a quartered moon on a cloudless sky just outside the glass panel window. From her drawer, she took a thin folding of a one-piece suit similar to heating undergarments worn by regular infantry during winter. She held it high and examined it for any runs or scratches.

This, she thought, is far more than those primitive things that protect you from the cold. The FCP suit- the full chemical protection suit protected its wearer from anything short of a full dose of the deadliest of acids in the building - a proud Edisonian invention that has saved countless of lives since conception.

She quickly slipped on the suit and closed the zipper at the back of the outfit. The suit itself gave the appearance of a dark secondary skin, scaled like that of a snake but highly reflective as though light itself was denied penetration. Its sleek black appearance contrasted Valeria's delicate skin. On top of the FCP, the old cotton undershirt came in, then the leather vest, then one of the white lab coats hanging by the wall.

That done, Valeria slipped on her trademark monocle and proceeded to the hallway outside the room that lead directly to the elevator going to the floors below.

At the entrance, a large steel-armored guard in an open basinet checked her for a badge by waving his unintimidating pike, to which she flashed her blue clearance card. It hardly meant anything now to her, now that even commonplace riffraff could gain the same access.

"Has Miss Tesla vacated the premises since I left her in the laboratory?" she asked the guard. The guard shook his head generously, rattling every piece of armor in his body. Valeria checked her pocket watch and laughed to herself restrainedly. Illya's been down at the labs for almost twelve hours already. The little girl may be lacking in talent but she most certainly makes up for it in effort, Valeria thought as she inserted her blue card into the narrow slit by the door of the nondescript looking industrial elevator.

The elevator gave a low-profiled ding and the mechanical doors lumberingly closed before proceeding to its decent six levels below the surface of the institute with an ungainly hum.

The goal of the Anubis Project was to create homunculi enhancing enzymes that encouraged rapid cell regeneration after the subject has sustained enough critical damage, giving it a second wind - a second chance at life.

It was an unremarkable project that had a very low chance of success, but that was just my cup of tea - good challenges that showed people why Edisons are the vanguards of the path to the ultimate goal of their field - perfecting God science.

[Addy]

Me: >.> <.< >.> not to be nitpicky but... isn't a Courtesan a high class prosti?

[Magician in Jean...]

Yes, but courtesans are still epitomes of gracious hostesses in ye olde society; they are mostly known to entertain guests despite political differences. it's not surprising that Valeria is putting an act by being as cordial as a courtesan towards everybody else, whether a threat or not.

[redkinoko]

I was thinking of the term courtier earlier. My bad. Although MiJ's idea makes the courtesan term an acceptable term as well, I've asked a mod to change it for me. ^___^

Thankies minna~

[Addy]

Me: Ah, but Courtesans, while regarded 'highly' back then still perform certain... functions that should not be discussed lest I be banned XP

[redkinoko]

*ki charged to level 3*

Shinkuuu Supaaaa Servisu~!

[Magician in Jean...]

o.Ov

Hahaha banzorz!!

XD Don't mind me. I have nothing better to do. But I'm having what could be a beginning of a fever. No Thor for me when I get home, I guess, and it sounds as if my pain will be aggravated if I log in when I get home. Oh well.

[Karasawa Rui]

Chapter Six: The Crucible

I knew what to do. I knew what they were doing. During my tenure as a Kirov Engine Mechanic, I've kept up with the biochemistral briefs that my father sent me from time to time. It wasn't much to go on, yes, but from what little I could glean from those updates, them being directly sent from the Chief of Biochemistry himself, I knew that the moment I stepped across the treshold of the Biochemeinstitut's gates I would have a lot to work on.

Illya closed her eyes, both hands gripping the table in front of her in a white-knuckled grasp. She felt herself slipping away, her body begging for rest, craving the all-too-human reflex to simply drop and shut down into a state of near coma. She'd been working, full out, from the minute she slipped on her lab coat and ID - and this was with skipping both meals, something she made a point never to do unless the work was that imperative, that important.

One look at the blackboard, filled with neatly-written computations, the amount of equipment prepped and ready for use, as well as the brief that Valeria had politely shoved into her face denoting what the actual research was about - she knew that it was not only important, it was paramount.

With the dawn of Homunculi technology and discovery, Biochemistry had never before held the attention of the entire world in such a captive grasp. Long ago, it was just mere potionswork - curative fluids, poisonous draughts - and one could only develop the art of making glorified drinks for only so much. But by actually being able to create life - life that is self-aware, self-sustaining, to break out from mortal boundaries to doing what a god does so freely and with impunity...

The world became an audience, and we became the magicians who did the impossible.

Opening her eyes with no sheer amount of will, Illya gritted her teeth, choking back the bile that threatened to rise up into her throat as she fought to overcome the suidden wave of dizziness that always came with forcing your body to adjust to a new biological pattern.

Of course, as an audience, the world is fickle and will ultimately get bored with repeated performances. Thus, it is up to us to continually amaze and mystify - else, Biochemistry would once again fall into the shadow of its more esoteric adversary, Magic.

Under no circumstances must that happen. Never again.

The world needs to realize that relying on something that we were never meant to utilize would mean being irrevocably crippled as a whole if it somehow disappeared. The world needs to realize that it needs something real, something concrete to rely on.

The world needs to realize that magic is only a crutch it has no business leaning on.

Far from me to let my own health get in the way of that happening.

Taking a deep breath, Illya let go of the table - slightly-shivering fingers straightening the lapels of her lab coat self-consciously. One hand reaching up to adjust her glasses, Illya made her way to the computations board, scratching out a string of equations she'd been mulling over for half an hour, just before her body decided to send her another message that it was dangerously close to collapsing. Stepping back, chalk-dusted hands on her waist, the platinum-haired girl nodded in satisfaction, before picking up a clipboard and making her way to the homunculus incubating tubes - deftly ignoring the shuddering whine of the elevator doors opening, and the staccato rhythm of heels clacking on the marble-tiled laboratory floor.

"Had a nice nap, Miss Steinmetz?" Tesla murmured underneath her breath, but loud enough for the other scientist to hear.

[redkinoko]

Steinmetz Vandalism

"Begging your pardon?" Valeria said with inclinations to dignified protest as she walked out of the elevator. Illya stepped away from the tubes a moment to face Valeria and reply, "I was just asking if your sleep was enough, Ma'am Steinmetz."

Often times during my work with Tesla, I was referred by her with my surname from marriage, an indirect mockery of what I stood for. Crude as it may sound, she found it an interesting insult. I thought it rather obscene.

Steinmetz? To me it's just a word that hardly defined anything about me - a token of an arranged marriage made by two senile fools who saw things from the back of their desks and on the numbers in their dusty ledgers. Politics, I say, and nothing more. My state of wifehood to a worldly, rich layman who wouldn’t know the difference between synthesized Mandragoran extract and a puddle of his own urine hardly mattered to me.

Valeria knew where the Teslan girl was getting at but refrained from making comments. Pretending that the conversation never happened, she fixed her monocle and began to sift through the stack of papers with carefully scripted figures upon arriving at her desk without even bothering to sit down.

Illya went back to her work, scribbling on her clipboard. She then said without bothering to face Valeria, "I've taken the liberty of continuing your work for you, as you seem to have been watching the same set of formulae that won't get solved with just plain stares.”

That was enough to get Valeria's attention. She quickly removed attention from data feed papers that were in her hand and turned to the whiteboard sitting smack at the heart of the lab.

Cold drops of sweat formed around Valeria's forehead. So this what Tesla was doing down here all the while she found it advantageous to sleep? The formulas looked like imposing vandalisms to her now - vandalisms that challenged her intellectual prowess.

Still, for a fraction of thought time, she considered the problems on the board as something that could not be solved so quickly, at least on her own hands. Something had definitely had to be wrong, Valeria thought as she made her way towards the board, slowly scrutinizing the solutions as would her father-in-law inspect the perfect bride for his politically savvy son.

"That should solve the problems we've been having with the degeneration of body tissue during the reconstructive phase," Illya followed up, clipboard in hand as she made her way to the elevated platform overlooking the board's surface.” And as I understand it, that's the only thing that's holding back us from conducting the third part of the clinical testing on the set of homunculi we got from Supplies the other day."

Valeria ignored her knowing Tesla was just once again emphasizing. There has to be an error, a chink in the solution that made it feasibly solvable in a shorter amount of time. She squinted her eyes looking for it - the rationalizing error.

And then she found it.

Pointing stick in hand, Valeria highlighted an almost archaic-looking formula set on the top of the board. "There," Valeria said almost triumphantly, "you seemed to have too much regrowth inhibitors in the regenerative function set. Using only half of the amount will enable the tissues to grow faster than the degeneration."

Illya rushed to where Valiera was standing, strutting half of the way. "We already know that will just send us back to the original problem! If things were that easy, we wouldn't have to rewrite so many formulas in front of you. If we use half the amount of the inhibitor, tissue growth wont be stemmed enough to achieve homeostasis. Are you trying to create a monster?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Valeria defiantly insisted, causing other researchers inside the room to take notice, "Did I not create half of this formula as well?"

"The wrong half," mumbled Illya to herself.

"Prove it," Valeria dared, here eyes projected a cunning strategist that seemed to taunt with their very stare.

"I - of course I can prove it, but we'll have to run the actual testing. All this is just theory until we get solid readouts from actual results," replied Illya fixing her eyeglasses calmly.

It was at that moment that Valeria finally found the opportunity to have a good demonstration of their differences.” Then let's do just that. Let's try things my way. We have time to spare."

"You're crazy," Illya protested, "if we're going to try things, at least try it my way. You're jeopardizing the entire project with this recklessness!"

Reckless? Wasn't science founded on the thought that achievements can only be done with calculated risks? Valeria chucked to herself as she found Illya's comments crazy.


Because in a world where science is a blood sport filled with athletes, super athletes, coveted prizes, and records set for eternity, it's not who you are but what you entirely accomplish with your life that defines your existence.

Steinmetz? Not in my world.

Here, I'm an Edison with a manifest destiny over biochemistry.


"No matter, I'm in charge here. We do things my way. Friedrich, begin the enzyme synthesis defined in process three for testing!" Valeria commanded with an imposing tone. One of the assistants, a clean cut young man with box frame glasses and standard white labcoat nodded and scurried to another corner of the lab where flasks where arranged in several racks.

Valeria turned her head at a clearly exasperated Illya, "Set the regrowth inhibitor to half the current setting."

Anubis will be completed through her brilliance, Valeria Edison told herself, and the gods be damning her if it were to be ruined by a commoner born from street rubbish.

This post has been edited by redkinoko: Nov 11 2006, 04:10 PM

[jherskie]

this is getting better and better, and more engaging (IMG:style_emoticons/default/happy.gif)

[liureiyi]

whoa! nag-aaway sila,.. ehehe

wee,. Ms. Rui's turn,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/biggrin.gif)

*flashback pa rin* (IMG:style_emoticons/default/mellow.gif)

[Magician in Jean...]

Utterly cool sparring. And that coming from mere exchanges of words between two characters.

Continue, bitte. ^^

[Karasawa Rui]

I've always likened - mentally AND physiologically - debating with Valeria to a checkers match being played by two very sore losers, the Edison protege and I as the aforementioned sore losers, of course. Imagine two competitors, ridiculously even-matched on a game based completely on even grounds and level playing fields. There would be no clear victor - every match would either end in a draw, a stalemate, or overtime. A classic case of MAD - Mutually Assured Destruction - unless either side does something against the rules, something so underhanded and immature and unfair that it disrupts the playing field completely.
In checker terms, it would be tantamount to either me or Valeria violently and suddenly upsetting the game board itself, sending a pretty shower of red and black chips all around.

In experimentation terms, it's Valeria pulling rank just to get what she wants.

Pity. I expected no less of her.

"Objection."

Valeria raised a delicate eyebrow at a visibly angry Tesla, the girl shivering in frustration, fatigue and indignation. "Excuse me?"

"OBJECTION!" Illya screamed, sharp enough to freeze the usually-bustling room in its tracks. "OBJECTION, I SAID, DAMMIT--"

"I heard you." Valeria replied frostily. "On what grounds?"

Illya slammed both of her hands down on the table in front of her, the beakers rattling noisily in their racks. "You're not considering the consecquences of cutting the inhibiting substance by that considerable amount! It's hypothetically unsound! It's--"

"Unsound?" The ebony-haired Edison narrowed her eyes at Illya. "Then, by all means, Tesla - from what basis are you judging my call as unsound? Do you have any past experiments to use as reference? Cite any studies, theories, postulates that can even suggest that I'm making a wrong decision?"

"..."

"Well?"

I upset the game board, and now I must bend over to pick up the game pieces.

"...No, Ma'am Steinmetz." Illya seethed through gritted teeth, fingers digging into the palms of her hands. "I have no basis--"

"Because this experiment has never been done before. We're in uncharted territory - we have no other cases to refer to for a control of the results other than calculating and predicting to the best of our ability what might happen." Valeria smiled as she twisted the dagger she had handed Illya to gut herself with. "Or is it, as uncharacteristic as it is for a Tesla - are you actually afraid?"

Silence. Deafening, ear-shattering silence.

Valeria waited for a moment longer, savoring the small victory, then nodded. "Your objection is noted and duly overruled. Friedrich, resume enzyme synthesis. Sergei--" She motioned to another labcoat who was busily arranging papers. "--relieve Miss Tesla of her responsibilities for the duration of this experiment. Clearly, she's under duress and incapable of doing what she's supposed to do--"

"I'll do it myself," Illya grumbled, pushing past Valeria and stalking over to the incubator tanks.

Angry as I was, I was beginning to doubt myself. Maybe Valeria WAS right. Maybe Valeria knew what she was doing. Maybe I was simply being - dare I say it? - unnecessarily confrontational about it. I should have been focusing more on the actual outcome of the experiment - and not jumping on every chance to prove Valeria wrong.

The guinea pig for the experiment - a fully-formed adult Lif - stared at Illya woefully through the incubator tube's glass surface.

Unfortunately, in retrospect, it seemed to be all I was living for - at least, until I found out exactly why my father wanted me to work here.

[liureiyi]

waah, . . nasa flashback pa rin, . .

astig naman relationship nila, . .


The God Protocol, . .? creating new beings like the Homunculus?


gee, . . Sr. Redkinoko's turn,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/smile.gif)

***di ko yata nakitang nakapost yung link sa opening video nito /hmm***

This post has been edited by liureiyi: Nov 21 2006, 06:29 PM

[redkinoko]

Chapter 9 : 5015

Science in its very essence is anti-intellectual. It does not encourage man to think. The true nature of science encourages man to be empirical - to believe only what can be seen, measured, proven by the senses. Philosophy on the other hand, strives for usage of rationality to explain and reveal the possibilities with mental postulation. Philosophy is the eyes that visualize and science is the feet that bring one closer to what he sees.

To achieve great things in life, one must be more than just a scientist; one also has to be the perfect philosopher.

Controlled subject 5015 was anything but special to the people working in the blue clearance area.

A mass-produced alpha variant unit, 5015 was, simply put, a disposable homunculus provided for by the institute for the sole purpose of development. Unlike other Lif variants, Alpha Lifs rarely ever made it out of the institute. They were test subjects to be experimented on, studied, and then disposed off once deemed useless.

Valeria went over the release papers of the Lif at her table as she oversaw Friedrich carefully siphoning out yellowish fluid from a stopped flask using a clear syringe. At the other end of the lab, Illya carefully made observational notes on the Lif labeled as 5015, nothing but standard procedures.

Friedrich turned to Valeria after completing the siphoning process. He held in his hand a full syringe on one hand and an empty flask on the other. Valeria was quick to notice and placed the papers on her desk. She paced across the walkway with upbeat cadence and then wordlessly nodded at Friedrich upon reaching the elevated observational area.

Illya took signal from Valeria as well, twisting an orange valve just below the holding tank. The valve shrieked as it became loose, and gradually the fluid inside the tank drained. With another filp of the switch, the glass aperture encasing 5015 rose vertically, releasing what remained of the fluids on the perforated metal flooring around it.

The Lif opened its emerald-green eyes and looked around with its wide-eyed gaze. Illya carefully held its soaked hand and guided the Lif towards a nearby surgical table, immaculate in its white sheets.

"Apply the demetabolium to stop the unnecessary life processes, Sergei," Illya said as she looked at the serene face of the Lif lying on the operating table.

Another assistant wearing a ponytail in a white labcoat stepped forward and injected white fluid into the Lif's exposed porcelainish stomach. The Lif closed its yes after blinking twice.

"Inject the controlling synthesis," Valeria commanded to Friedrich. Friedrich immediately applied the syringe on the Lif's neck - where ps,ychoactive medicine entry is supposedly most potent.

Silence once again filled the room. After a few minutes, Illya looked at her pocketwatch stashed in her lab coat and turned to Valeria, "Permission to begin superficial damage recovery testing."

Valeria went down the observational deck, towards Illya before she replied, "Granted. Proceed with testing."

The scalpel went down deep, rending the flesh of the Lif's arm as it went below the epidermis, then the dermis. Blood started oozing out of the wound like a spring well of death. A quick glance was enough for Valeria to see Illya's hands beginning to tremble.

The incision stopped. "Six inches," Illya said as she raised the scalpel and returned it to a tray filled with other metal implements.

Ten seconds passed. Valeria held her breath. Illya would not speak as well.

Then, magic. The blood stopped oozing out of the laceration. The wound itself started vanishing the same direction of the cut almost as if by witchcraft,. A few seconds later, blood was still on the surface of the Lif’s skin but it was as though there had been no wound in the arm in the first place.

Valeria's eyes glinted with joy, even from behind her monocle. Illya heaved a sigh of relief. Nothing bad's happened after all, and that should be enough for rejoice.

"Quick, we need significant damage," Valeria excitedly turned to Friedrich - who appeared to be rather doldrum about what was happening. The strapping assistant merely nodded and took out a larger knife.

Valeria outlined a circle on the naked specimen's abdomen. "To the guts, for internal damage," she said. Friedrich nodded and quickly buried the dagger with considerable force. Blood was surprisingly less than expected, but it was enough to turn Illya pale.

Friedrich stood back as they all watched the knife shake gently as it wedged itself slowly out of the wound, being pushed out by an unseen hand. It popped off and fell on the table moments later as though it just tried to penetrate rubber.

"P-point taken," Illya replied as she walked away from the table and removed her gloves. It was clear victory for Valeria, but she would not let go of it. "Oh no, not yet, Tesla."

"Is there anything else we need in this experiment?" Illya asked, fists clenched underneath her bloodied lab coat.

"Cerebral damage recovery."

True enough, the hardest part to regenerate is the part that actually oversees the regeneration of the body – the brain. If that could not regenerate on its own, the formula itself was useless.

Illya stopped on her tracks and broke cold sweat. Her intuition started kicking in. From a drawer, Valeria drew out an antiquated matchlock - the type used by the guards of the institute. They were designed to quickly take down anything less than a rampaging behemoth.

"I suggest we work with the data we have for today first, Ma'am Steinmetz," she politely replied, turning and facing the approaching Valeria. From the operating table, Friedrich propped the Lif so that it was sitting on the table - its eyes still glazed from the demetabolium.

"My experiment. I dictate how it ends," Valeria replied with a certain inflection of authority. She handed the gun to Illya. "I presume you're a better shot than me so this should be yours to take."

With an indecisive expression, Illya took a step back. "But I think - "

"I think refusing to cooperate and dissenting is severely punished 'round these parts. We have to complete the series of tests - as dictated in our procedure," Valeria dictated, hands in her waist.

Illya took the rifle, placed her hands where they should belong but didn't aim. Valeria stepped away from Illya, revealing the Lif sitting behind her. "If the problem is a moral one," Valeria said. "You should not even start thinking of being here in the first place as it will affect your judgment and the outcome of this project."

The young woman looked at Valeria intently and walked towards the Lif. Valiera merely smiled as she watched her partner do her bidding. Illya effortlessly lifted the wooden matchlock, propped the stock on her shoulder and carefully aimed at the Lif's head only a yard away.

Illya's young eyes crossed with the Lif's dilated stare and felt her heart beating faster. A question of morality perhaps? Valeria watched Illya intently instead of the target - perhaps in this case both shooter and victim are both targets.

Illya closed her eyes and cringed as she pulled the trigger. A loud bang filled the room, rattling nearby flasks and test tubes as black azotic smoke from the gun slipped through the exhaust vents.

And then it was just Tesla and Edison, staring at each other, one in delight and the other in disgust, across the fine downpour of crimson droplets and shattered, half-cooked flesh from the mutilated head of controlled subject 5015.

[liureiyi]

*gulps*

di pala ako pwedeng maging scientist pag nagkataon,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/mellow.gif)

kakainin na lang ako ng "moral" , . . /pif

ang cute ng Lif tapos babarilin mo lang,..!!?? (IMG:style_emoticons/default/ohmy.gif)


*quoting the italicized 1st & 2nd paragraphs* ~~~ asteeg, . . natututo ako dito ah,..hihihi


Madame Karasawa Rui's turn, . . yey! (IMG:style_emoticons/default/smile.gif)

[Addy]

Me: TTATT the poor Lif... I wouldn't be able to keep myself from vomiting if I were in the same room @_@

[redkinoko]

hehe thanks for reading.

Opening animation for the story is available at:
http://ragnaboards.levelupgames.ph/index.php?showtopic=15626