Chaotic Communication

"Don't you know who we are, you scum!? We're the Verdant Wyrm Lord's Elite Squad, here to claim this region in his name!" Gilgamesh once again put on airs and proclaimed his 'station' loudly for all to hear. Five lifeless, spiritless bodies were scattered around him, and Samael was raised toward those that were still alive and fleeing.

"Go tell your commanders-- heck, you can tell the Crimson Wyrm Lord himself-- that the Verdant Wyrm Lord spits on his honor. He told us your army was made up of the most fierce and bloodthirsty warriors, but you're all just a bunch of sissies!" Marshall, of course, would not miss the chance to add his own piece.

Together, they drilled the message into the fleeing soldiers, who were part of a lone group of operatives, meant to ascertain the situation in and around the innermost region.

They had captured a number of soldiers from different camps over the course of a few days, and came to understand the situation a bit better. They now knew that a number of advance parties had been sent into the core region of the continent, with the aim of determining the extent of the other Wyrm Lords' infiltration inland.

Gilgamesh quickly realized that the Wyrm Lord's both underestimated and overestimated each other. On one hand, it was a good idea to gather intel about the enemy, but on the other, they were foolish to not consider the fact that the core region was still unoccupied.

Gilgamesh and Ishtar thought their whole plan of action was quite stupid. Why turn it into a race to the central region? Why not just seek to wipe each other out and have the final winner become the de facto ruler of the continent?

"They're all wary of each other, and want to avoid being assaulted as they approach an enemy that is expecting them. This wariness dulls their edges, and leaves them open to what we are doing now."

"What exactly are we doing again," Marshall asked as he flung some blood off his sword.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ishtar said and shot Marshall an expectant look, but she sighed when he shook his head. "Sylvia?"

"Oh, uh, I'm not exactly sure either. I know Gilgamesh mentioned something about 'tensions being high' and 'watching it all unfold in the end,' but I'm not sure what he meant by that."

Gilgamesh took the first steps up to the door of the house, then turned around and eyed them. Above their heads, crows were all swarming onto the roof of the house, a lot more than just three.

"We're forcing them to act. Each of the Wyrm Lords' armies will receive news of a small occupying force in the core region, and will see it as an opportunity to seize control before any of the other Wyrm Lords-"

"And since they're all coming from differing locations, they'll have no idea of each other's movements or plans until they eventually converge on our location..." Sylvia realized this much, and was starting to smile involuntarily.

"By then," Marshall continued, already grinning, "we'll have withdrawn from here and left them to face off against each other, whether they want to or not. None of them will expect that every one of the seven armies has arrived for the same purpose as they have, and will be left with no choice but all-out war."

Gilgamesh rolled his head around a little and said, "You've got the gist of it; that's all that matters."

They piled into the house to clean up and take a load off, but Ishtar hung back in the kitchen, looking around at the various items that filled it. An aura of sorrow became to consume her; her eyes, unfocused, turned inward.

She tried, without any success, to feel her spirit the way it had been, when she had felt most free. With no luck, she summoned it the way it was now, and felt the liveliness of those sparks, as if millions of minuscule explosions were hidden within her.

She could not understand her spirit now, nor could she tell just what about it was hard for her to understand. It felt empty and drained, but no matter how hard she tried she could not use up all of its energy. It felt tiny, but it was no smaller than it had been.

It felt docile- like it belonged to her- but it would also seem as though it were a hostile force, oppressing her into doing its will. It was most unsettling. Her mind and body was warning her against it, but she also got assurance from it that it would never harm her.

It put her at ease while also simultaneously putting her on edge.

Another thing she realized was that, no matter how hard she tried, it was impossible for her to ignore Gilgamesh's words. She did not particularly want to, but she possessed vivid memories of a time where she considered all of her options, and not just the one where she chose to aid Gilgamesh and abandon her family and life in the World Beyond Heaven's Door.

Now, it was impossible for her to formulate such thoughts. If Gilgamesh asked something of her, there were no options. She could only do it.

She did not care about that aspect of it, as she had already made up her mind to do just that. What worried her was the nature her spirit had acquired. Her life was saved by it; she was not an ungrateful person.

Still, she was cautious.

"Still can't poof us up something to eat?" Marshall sounded hopeful when he asked that, but Ishtar shook her head and shattered that hope. He dejectedly walked back to the living room and plopped down onto a couch.

Gilgamesh rounded the corner and made her jump a bit, but no one noticed.

"Still no, huh? He must have drained the very nature from your spirit, and not just the energy. Did he say anything that might explain why?"

Ishtar cleared her throat and shook her head, "No. All I know from what he said is that he created my brothers and I out of matter he acquired while exploring the void beyond the Highest World."

"He must not have wanted to reforge his own physicality and lose all his progress, so he decided to create you guys to do it for him. Despicable."

Gilgamesh's pure and unbridled hatred for Anu started pouring out, and Ishtar realized that she could feel it a lot more than she had ever been able to.

"Once my brothers have grown enough, he plans to do the same to them... To think that he's been lying to us all this time."

"He's always been warning us of a great threat from beyond our dimension that is doing its best to break in, but that he managed to buy us some time before that could happen. That's why he always pushed us to grow stronger, so that he could reap our spirits as soon as possible."

"Now you know that the greatest threat to your family was always him. He sits at the peak of power, and rules all, yet that is still not enough."

Ishtar nodded. Gilgamesh put a hand on her side, since he could not reach her shoulder, and gave her a warm smile.

"Miss Inanna," Sylvia called out.

"I told you, just Inanna is fine."

"Ah," Sylvia sheepishly nodded, "right, of course."

"I was just going to offer to help you make something. You have a lot of ingredients; I'm sure we could come up with something."

Ishtar laughingly scoffed, "I'll have to rely on you, since this one despises such work."

Gilgamesh slipped away and joined Marshall in the living room. It took them a few days- even with Ishtar's instructions- but they managed to set up a TV in the living room. Marshall was slowly tapping buttons on the remote, trying to figure out how to find something to watch.

"I think it's that one," Gilgamesh pointed from where he was sitting.

"This one?" Marshall pressed the one Gilgamesh was pointing at, and it instantly opened up the app that they would use to watch stuff.

"Ah, nice," Marshall got comfortable, and Gilgamesh did the same.

As they settled in for the evening, enjoying the tranquility that followed a somewhat eventful day, chaotic events were playing out at seven key location within the continent.

To the East, overlooking a field of burning trees and corpses, a verdant clothed young man with long black hair and bright, green eyes, folded his arms. A messenger knelt at his side, and passed a scroll to him, which he activated with his spirit and read instantly.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, and in reaction to this, the flames scouring the field below him intensified, blazing high and bright, even morphing into a viridescent hue for a short while before dying down.

"Crimson thinks he's won, does he?" The young man let go of the scroll, and it was consumed by verdant flames in less than an instant, without even ashes left behind.

As that was happening, somewhere in the Southeast, a woman was standing alone on a frozen lake. On the banks of those lakes, a number of soldiers were standing by, looking at her from under the cover of trees.

Within the ice around her, an even larger number of soldiers were encased in the ice. Some of them were clearly frozen and dead, but others were in deep meditation with their legs folded, slowly breathing.

One of her soldiers crossed the ice to bring a scroll to her, and when she read it she giggled and passed it back to the messenger.

"The Violet Wyrm Lord has grown arrogant. I will remind her of her place beneath me."

Somewhere else, this time in the Northwest...

"What!? The Silver Wyrm Lord is there already!? Oh, that does it!"

A statuesque man with short hair, a burly frame and bulging muscles grit his teeth. There were golden gauntlets on his hands, engraved with the image of a wyrm.

He was in his tent, and was tightly gripping a scroll in his hand. Without indication, he turned and started rushing out of the tent. The soldier kneeling on the floor next to him gasped and desperately tried to roll out of his way.

Pushing the tent open, he stepped out into the light, alerting his soldiers of his presence. They were all encamped around his tent, and stood tall once they saw him appear in the open. Each and every one of them was adorned in some form of golden garb.

"Golden Scales, listen up! The Silver Wyrm Lord has beat us to it. Though our ships were the first to depart from the mainland, we are now behind even the likes of her. Therefore, we must depart earlier than planned. We leave before the moon rises, and will march through the night!"

"Prepare yourselves for war! Let nothing stop the Golden Scales- Let nothing stop the Golden Wyrm Lord!"

"Sir, yes, sir!!!"

As more time went by, each of the seven Wyrm Lords would receive similar news regarding their competition, and have similar reactions to it.

Before long, each of them would begin their march into the core region, uncaring as to whatever awaited them there. The only thoughts on most of their minds were of winning, no matter how they had to do that.

Winning this continent would allow them a chance to do something they never could on the mainland. It was a chance for them to elevate themselves from their current status, and discard the title of Wyrm Lord.

Despite each of their differences, that was the core desire in them that drove them forward. It was quite a simple thing- so simple that it, perhaps, exists within the souls of each and every one of us.

Even so, they were willing to sacrifice everything to realize their desires. That haste would prove to be a deadly toxin.