Convergance [Open to 2]

Flashing across the multifaceted surface, images would spring to life as clear as if they were before him. Silver sphere would scan over, and take in everything that appeared before him. Anywhere he could let his influence fall over was before him, all within this empty space of pure white, as if one had taken bleach to an entire realm. This was a sub space that Raziel had created for personal purposes, one that had only taken a few days to perfect, and now it would be whatever he wanted it to be. ”Stagnation, seems all realms are privy to it at some point.” He muttered with an agitated sigh, and with a flick of his wrist, the entire realm would seem to change with a whim. In this realm he was god, and here he could shape it however he desired, but there was one thing that he wanted at the moment. A singular white box upon a pedestal would come to him, pulsing with an ancient energy, the very thing it sat upon already beginning to freeze.

”However it appears the power of this one only keeps growing.” The lid would raise from the box, reveling a small heart upon a plush velvet lining, pulsing with a red aura and a singular black spot radiating from within. Tenderly, his hand would reach out, and grasp the heart, lifting it up into the air and admiring the overall energy that it held. With each second came a singular beat, a rhythm that went on and on for a few more seconds. Despite it not being within a body, this heart would continue to beat, and because of that it had its use, the power of the one that it was ripped from. Not that he took it by force, as the one gave it to him so willingly that it was insane. The things people did for the ones they loved was perhaps the most confounding thing, but then again it worked in his favor.

”Now little water boy, lets make some use out of this before I have to return it.” Raziel muttered, flicking his wrist, and creating a singular doorway. This heart would shrink down, becoming the end of an amulet, and within moments, he would step through the doorway into the city of Chicago of all places. A cold wind blew past him, drawing a small chill from the male as he drew in close the rather snug jacket of his. He had chosen to dress simply, in jeans that humans loved so much as well as a t-shirt and a jacket over that, though it was enchanted to keep him pretty warm. Granted he could do that with almost anything on him, which happened with the rest of his clothing, keeping him from freezing or anything.

”I'm a good distance from that family, no chance of accidentally killin them or anything.” Raziel muttered under his breath, before feeling over the warm pulsing necklace. He would have to return this soon, but not yet. Something had caught his attention in Chicago, a strange cult that had his attention once, but its worship was supposed to have died.  Now however it seemed that it had started up again, young women ending up without their hearts and markings being cut into their bodies for some reason. Perhaps so that this once dead god could consume their souls, and regain life once again. He was not sure what this was, but something about it did not sit well with the ethereal. Something like a god would likely prove a large threat to this realm, and that would likely mean more trouble for him, so it was an equal thing really.

His destination was a dark alleyway, where darker things lurked, and it seemed to be where these attacks happened the most. So that was where he would start his investigation.

Cylon recently left his long exile for reasons even he didn't know, he figured he would attempt to gain a foothold in this world that had changed so much. No longer were humans killing each other with sword and spear, but with other weapons that were entirely foreign to the man.


The race stood mostly united actually, as most do when threatened with total annihilation. Meta humans now roamed the streets, stealing and killing or trying to stop the ones that were stealing and killing. Cylon didn't care for it, having beings of great power running around would only make things more difficult for him. He took on another name, Oliver Alderman, and managed to sell the artifacts he had gathered from the numerous battles he fought in through the years to collectors for a reasonable sum. He then used the money to opened a small company in downtown Chicago. The company would buy and sell stocks and use a majority of the money to fund weapon research for the army. It was a good way to move up the social ladder and make the new currency that was being passed around, yet Cylon still wanted more.


His one and only goal was to rule, he was born to do so, and he would lay claim to his birthright. However, he had another passion, combat, the dance of blades and the heat of combat was one of the only things that he loved in this existence. Yet it had changed so much in the time he was away, he planned to test the metal of these "meta humans" on this night. An odd thing to do yes, but it was something of a hobby, as they called it now. He walked in the dark and cold night, fully armored with his cloak blowing in the wind. He hoped his elaborate attire would get the attention of some game.