Pact of blood

He nods to himself. "It seems the periphery of the living factory is the is based on the ground it's used on though it seems to have limit matter warping capability."

He disconnects, dashing back before his eyes glow billow. Clouds of Smoke blast all around him spread over half the training area before exact clones form everywhere.

The stony expression formed on all their faces as his eyes gleam, again the numberless clones rushing ahead undistinguishable from each other.

Forms into the ground, hundreds of much more simplistic drones appear from the land, rushing the moving targets. The Drones Dart up

A Point stabbing into the nearest Point of impact, piercing the body like a terror drone. It Floods them with an acid melting through the system.

It Erupts out, flooding the floor and melding through it. The prior construct turned to a pool of caustic water bubbling like a boiling pot.

He stares at it for a few moments; the clones dispersing to clouds of scattering smog. Looks up into the air, a sigh. The elemental contract rather useful,

"tanks made from nothing but matter with fusion reactors and a Fire elemental." he whispers, before he lower down pressing his hands against the ground.

His voice trails in the air, the words mere whispers within the sky, a magic circle appearing in front of him, runic words run along the outside of the second loop.

The blooming petals sprawling to the edge of the internal 1, "plasma soul," the circle likes up, becoming a cosmic Nova. The Shifting Churning waves of rapid plasma,

Form together as aspects of immense power arise from the circle, an Enormous hand bursting out somehow grabbing the Air,

Before pulling up its head. The air crackled with energy, the free Ions rapidly binding and breaking around it with a searing heat.

A light wave of conflagration burst out flashing across the ground with electric volts, flames of bright blue rise on the ground white cores under the searing blue exterior.

2 narrowed eyes form on its head. It shifts through the body of electric fiery volts crackling and solidifying it, glances at Akiyama.

A voice sunder out, nearly rupturing Akiyama hearing, "you wish to form a contract!" It roars, Akiyama hand shout to his ears, his eyes flinch with pain,

"Don't blow my eardrums and yes, I wish to form a contract majesty of plasma," its voice lowers, still deep and frightening,

What qualification do you have to summon me?" Akiyama removes his hands from his ears. "physical territory," the being halts its active destruction, sensing the immense mass of origin, "it seems 1 of the inhabitants dislikes this idea,"

Akiyama looks towards NelMamolth. "It seems so, however, this is not for negotiation. I request a Guardian contract," Akiyama proposes.

it 2 massive crackling hands clash against the ground, the fields repulsing against it before they waver, the 2 hands press against the ground,

It stares down at Akiyama. "For what, mortal?" it asks a response quickly. "A guardian contract to my entire bloodline,"

The thing lifts to the air, pondering the request, "hmm" distracted it, finally accept. "this could be entertaining," it whispers.

A sheet appearing between the 2 Akiyama looks over it, pulling a sharp object out, he pricks himself, swiping it down into the contract. It glows.

A chain of binding forms between them. I proclaim the origin of plasma under an agreement of blood." Strings of blood escape his fingers, wrapping around the Plasma forming it.

Loop form around its wrists and neck, the runes erupting into a shimmer of crimson. spins around the spots around, a tattoo appears on Akiyama's hand.

A circle engulfs his left hand, spinning with twisted guards sprawl out like wings, a circle looping the top of the circle. As a place pierces down to the centre of his hand, stabbing just barely the tip into a circle of crackling lightning,

The circle freezes, churning to a solid, black marking. Lilian's hand glows much the same. The girl sleeping Lythinma walks towards it looking down, as the same sigil forms on her hand. The 3 rings looping the outer circle possessing the symbols of flame, a circling rolling chunk of earth, and a crackling flickering lightning ball,

they halt turning into the same black covered symbol the vantablack engulfing all colour, Lythinma confused she sighs "he's doing something again," she mutters,

The plasma being slowly dissolves to streams, entering the sigil on his hand. "the mark provides a catalyst, Renzo Akiyama." the voice fades,

He nods before returning to his second office. "Sir, you required in the throne room," Walter says. Akiyama gets up. "Very well then." He walks to the throne room.

Sits down on it, his eyes shift down at the kneeling man below. "Who might you be?" Akiyama asks. The fair pale man responds. "Marquess Alma of the Alma house."

Akiyama considers the words to say next. "What knowledge do you desire?" the marquess smirks slightly, the small smirk receding just as quickly. "I would be grateful to learn of your judgment concerning a shift in policy."

Akiyama keeps neutrality. "Hmm, is their such a thing" Akiyama says. The Marquess' eye twitches slightly. "I am listening." He nods. "Would you be willing to alter your concept of survivalism?"

Akiyama's gaze shifted to him, a clear indication. "Do not attempt to test my patients." He states to the Marquess, Alma shudders slightly. '𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏.'

Akiyama closes his eyes. "Let us not prolong this discussion." Akiyama says "I couldn't help but notice your tendency of Socialism." Alma states.

Akiyama not refuting his point. "I am a passionate believer in efficiency." he slightly ponders the point. "Are you attempting to change the system I have implemented?"

the Marquess shudders '𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.' Alma thinks Akiyama ignoring the clear shudder, cleanly stating his opinion of the nobility.

Akiyama stands up. "I may, consider it." Akiyama turns away from the marquess '𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚' he thinks, The Marquess shivers before he excuses himself with his tail between his legs,

Akiyama walks back into his office. "What's the progress of the conquest?" he asks Reagan before sitting in his chair.

(I am back from break hope you all didn't wait too long."