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171428 No. 171428
Crimson lights the sky, the birds still asleep
Like a dream it shines, from heaven's safe keep
Children's songs we sung, as soft as the breeze
Endless fields, our home, I long for those days...


It began in summer.

For Gensokyo's sole human village, it was a quiet, lazy afternoon. The summer's festivities had come and gone, and the villagers were simply waiting to welcome the coming of autumn, preparing for the annual harvest and events. The worst of the heat had already passed, as the clouds had begun to grow thicker and more numerous. Thus, the center of the village, normally a bustling and busy hub, was almost completely devoid of people, save for a few who had come to offer their prayers to the statue of the Dragon.

The chiseled statue of the Dragon was the main attraction of the village square, standing high and firm atop a stone altar enclosed by a fence of shimenawa. With a long and coiled body, its mouth was carved wide open in a perpetual roar, eyes gleaming to match the mood of the sky—it was said that the statue's eyes had the power to predict weather: sunny days were white, cloudy days were gray, and rainy days were blue. (In the event of a calamity, the eyes would burn a searing red. Unmentioned, unwanted.) It was clearly a labor of love and respect, its stone body so smooth that sunlight danced across it, shrouding it in a luminous halo. The humans who gave worship to the dragon had spared no effort in creating something of its likeness.

“Oh, Marisa.”

One of the onlookers turned at the mention of her name, tearing her gaze away from the statue. She was a young adult, garbed in a black-white dress and pointed hat, attire that looked far too warm for the summer heat, even without sleeves. Approaching her was a girl of similar age, garbed in red-and-white; a friend-- of sorts, or so the girl called Marisa would say. Although Marisa's expression immediately lit up when she saw her, there seemed to be no change in the red-white's disposition, her countenance detached (almost bored) as she walked over, carrying several large bags in her arms.

“Yo, Reimu,” Marisa greeted her with a grin. “Fancy meeting you here. It's been a while, hasn't it?”

“We see each other every day,” Reimu replied with a scoff.

“Gathering supplies?”

“Of course. Anytime there's a reason to celebrate, all the youkai end up gathering at my shrine and eating and drinking everything,” she replies with no small amount of exasperation. “Especially Yukari. She eats like she's never eaten anything before whenever she comes out of hibernation.”

“I get pretty hungry when I get up from a nap, too, so I can sympathize with her there.”

“I'm just glad she hasn't showed her face in a while. It's pretty odd to see you here, though. Did you come to pay your respects to the statue?”

“Nah, just happened to be passing by.”

“I thought not. Since you're here, though, help me carry these back to the shrine.”

“Say,” Marisa began, shifting her gaze back to the statue. “Brooms are starting to go out of style, don't ya think? Wouldn't mind catching and riding one of those.”

“Don't try to change the subject,” her friend said with a frown. “And besides, that's heresy. You couldn't catch one anyway.”

Marisa flexed her arm with a wink. “Sure I can. I'm going to go look for one right now, and when I find one I'll bring it back to the shrine and show you! See ya later, Reimu!”

Reimu opened her mouth to protest, but before she could even get out a single word, Marisa took the broom in her hand and mounted it, kicking off the ground and soaring high into the air. Within mere seconds, she was nothing more than a speck in the sky, leaving Reimu to carry her bags by herself. She shook her head; even if it was just to get out of lending a hand, saying that she'd capture and ride a dragon was a silly thing to say. If some of the older villagers had heard her, she might have gotten some very nasty looks—although neither of them would really care. With a sigh, the girl in red-white floated away from the ground, much more gentle and graceful with her movements than Marisa, and took off into the sky.

To the humans of the village, it was just another day. They could not have been ready. They could not have been prepared. There was but a single warning for what would soon fall upon them.

The eyes of the statue began to glow red.



The clouds began to gather above one of Gensokyo’s many forests. There was a charge in the air, an overwhelming tension, and the heavens themselves began to twist and churn. Bitter radiance flooded through the clouds, painting the land below in streaks of lurid clarity – and something terrible began to emerge. Descending slowly, a hairless giant fell from the sky.

Although its shape was that of a human woman, it did not resemble a living being; closer to a massive ivory statue than anything organic. It plummeted through the air in a wake of shimmering snowflakes, crushing countless trees under its pitiless bulk.

Even as it hit the ground in a deafening seismic thunderclap, something else escaped from the light in the sky – several tremendous balls of fire rained down upon the fallen titan, exploding violently on contact. Soon their source became clear: a sleek red creature swooped down from the crack in the sky, already falling apart into motes of gossamer light.

Descending on leathery wings, it had a face like a white skull, a pointed reptilian snout, and twin curved horns that terminated forward, like a ram's. Its wings beat against the air, keeping it aloft, and it used its legs and mace-like tail to maintain balance. Although it hardly looked anything like the statue in the village, it could not be called anything but a dragon.

The dragon opened its mouth, revealing rows of sharp teeth…

“Is this the land of the gods?”

…And spoke, with the voice of an older woman.

The dragon was not speaking to itself; it was not alone. A man rode upon its back, clad in ragged armor, a sword at his hip and a scowl on his face. He said nothing in response, his eyes seeing only the white giant below, blind but for the storm of violence seething behind them. He had no need for words.

The giant began to stir, slowly raising itself up from the ground and onto its knees. Up, up, up. It opened its mouth (as if to scream, as if to speak) and warbled a thunderous bass, tongue lolling out past the grotesquerie’s alabaster chin. The rider’s scowl deepened in disgust.

The giant sang, the dragon roared.

The battle began.

No. 171429
>The battle began.

[X] Continue
No. 171430
A really interesting start. Don't disappoint me, writefag.
No. 171435
I have hope. Go for it!
No. 171442
Rapestove 2: the second coming.
No. 171463
Someone named Enoch posts something called 'Red'?
Ahahahahaha I am probably drawing the wrong conclusion but holy shit that's amusing.
No. 171476
DRAKENGARD!
No. 171477
>>171476
If this story doesn't involve at least one child being raped and murdered I will be disappointed.
No. 171484
Oh dear. Is Gensokyo is about to be hit with the equivalent of a magical plague like the Nier world?
No. 171495
>>171484
So, this is a crossover?
No. 171505
Yes
No. 171507
>>171495
http://lparchive.org/Drakengard/

Here's a convenient link to what to expect. Hopefully. Caim is one of the best protagonists stuck in a bad game. But then again, that might just be because I never played Drakengard and can't imagine him any other way than depicted in this LP.
No. 171522
>>171507
Damn, a crossover with a series I'm not familiar with.
No. 171563
>>171484
Odds of that seem low. Gensokyo has one advantage that Nier!Earth sorely lacked: ZEPPELINS a hilariously brilliant moondoctor.
No. 171594
>>171484
I sure hope so.
No. 171696
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171696
“What...what manner of strangeness... is this?”

The white wolf tengu took pride in their excellent senses; they had the uncanny power to see, hear, and smell things from thousands of leagues away. Even amongst their ranks, Captain Inubashiri had keen vision. After all, that was the reason she had been made the leader of the mountain's patrol force; if a single pin were to fall to the ground a great distance from her, she would not only hear its clatter, but immediately be able to pinpoint its exact location as well.

But even so, despite her firm convictions in her own abilities, even she could not believe what her eyes were seeing – she had half-convinced herself that she must simply be tired from the long bout of shogi she had partook in earlier that day, but she knew this could not be true. A white giant had descended into Gensokyo, and had begun to fight a great battle with a winged creature (similar but different to the appearance of the Dragon she beheld less times than the number of her fingers within her thousand year lifetime.) She could not understand the properties of their attacks; it was not dissimilar to the modern ritual of youkai extermination, but clearly it did not operate on the same rules.
No. 171698
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171698
Her ears gave a twitch. It was faint, but she could hear something. (Was it the sounds of the battle?) From the white giant, she could hear... a song? (A song of battle. A song of strife.) It was odd. The song had neither melody nor rhythm. If she were to describe it, it was a song of (light and shadow, of good and evil, of) extremes locked in maddening dissonance. Her ears began to ring (lalalalala), and she began to feel as though someone had wrapped their arms around her head, squeezing it tightly (lalalalala, lalalalala). Her eyes were beginning to burn. Her head hurt. The ringing in her ears grew louder and louder and—

With a huff, Captain Inubashiri dropped down to her knees. A bead of cold sweat ran down her face. The ringing in her ears quieted, and the pressure on her head had passed as well, but she could not stand. Without a doubt, listening to that giant's song was dangerous. It felt like she had narrowly escaped the jaws of some terrible beast.

She would need to warn the mountain defense patrol, then inform Lord Tenma as well as the great tengu of the situation. With visible effort, the guard captain raised herself onto her feet, and swiftly her legs carried her as she bounded along the mountain's trail with a sense of urgency she had not felt for over a hundred years.
No. 171699
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171699
Defeated, the colossal white titan began to break down. Its crooked grasp (fingers reaching, clawing, failing) shatters apart, body crumbling and broken, raining down onto the woods below in a shower of snow-white flakes.

The dragon bellowed, triumphant, at the collapse of the giant. The rider stood silent atop the dragon's back (despite his victory, despite ending everything), observing the beast's final throes.

“It is done! At last—”

The dying queen let out a final shriek. As the last of its face fell apart, it managed to let out a single note (just a single note, just a sound.)
No. 171701
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171701
In an instant, the dragon's body twisted in agony, frenetic roars of pain splitting the hot summer air. Floundering out of control, thrashing and flailing every which way, it quickly began losing altitude. The rider's eyes widened in shock, but still he did not let out his voice, even as he was thrown from the dragon's back.

Even left to the mercy of gravity, he did not speak.

He did not even scream, even though he shared the suffering of the dragon; reaching out a hand toward his partner – his irreplaceable comrade – as he plummeted into the white-covered trees below was all he was allowed.
No. 171702
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171702
The man stirred from unconsciousness, finding himself in a heap of tangled limbs amidst grass and trees, covered with what looked like a fresh layer of snow. His body felt sore, and a dull, pounding headache beat at his skull. He had taken quite a dive, but he did not appear to have suffered any external injuries; whether it was because the trees had broken his fall or because his body was simply that durable was unknown to him.

As he raised himself up from the ground, he scanned the area. It appeared that the giant's remains had blanketed everything, from the branches of the trees to the ground itself. Scowling, he brushed the white flakes off of his shoulders in disgust.
No. 171703
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171703
“Look! Look! Everything's all covered with snow!”

A shrill voice nearby caught his attention, and his hand reflexively moved to the scabbard dangling from his hip – and grasped only air. His sword was gone. Immediately agitated, his eyes darted about the area, frantically searching for the blade. Had it fallen out of its sheath as he fell? The man grit his teeth. He had no sword. He had no dragon. He felt vulnerable. He felt powerless. That feeling of powerlessness twisted into frustration, and further into rage. He searched for the voice he had heard, striding forward in a restless pace.

“Ugnnh... I can't carry this! It's way too heavy!”

The man found a curious sight – there were children in these woods. But they were no ordinary children, as they had wings. They resembled the fairies he had seen on his journey, but none that he had seen were as big as they; the fairies the man had seen were hardly any bigger than one's palm (more than once had he been tempted to crush their bones in his grip, for the fairies he knew were an unpleasant lot). Somewhat more significantly, the man realized that one of the children had his sword in her hands, attempting to lift it up from the ground in futility. Without hesitation, the man walked forward, intending to retrieve his blade.

“Uh oh, the scary man woke up!” One of the fairies alerted the others, pointing at the man as he approached them in a stride. “Run for it!”
No. 171721
Times like these a rock thrown to the back of the head works wonders, or in this case an iron coin would suffice due to their fae nature.
No. 171723
>Defeated, the colossal white titan began to break down. Its crooked grasp (fingers reaching, clawing, failing) shatters apart, body crumbling and broken, raining down onto the woods below in a shower of snow-white flakes.

Pick a tense, any tense, and stick with it buddy boy. That's poor form.
No. 171729
Well, this seems to be turning into yet another "X in Gensokyo" stories. Not what I wanted at all.

So much for the interesting start.
No. 171731
Tell me it's going to be The Dark Id's Caim and I will love you forever.
No. 171734
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171734
The fairies all scattered into the air, save for the one with the man's blade in hand; she attempted to fly off with the others only to be dragged back down by the weight of the sword. Looking up, she saw the man looming over her. Though he would not speak, his intentions were clearly communicated to her through his gaze, so filled with anger and scorn that the fairy dared not let out even a whimper. With tears in her eyes, she immediately forfeited the blade, taking off into the air and flying as fast as her little wings could carry her. The man picked up the sword – the familiar comfort of its grip eased some of his irritation. He gave a few practice swings to test his arm, and once satisfied, he slid the blade into its sheathe.

He had retrieved his sword, now he needed to reclaim his dragon. He attempted to reach her through his usual method – as their souls were intertwined as one, they could communicate with one another no matter the distance. The swordsman focused his thoughts, attempting to call out to the dragon – and receiving no response. He grew anxious and frustrated, but it felt different from the blinding, mad rage he was accustomed to. Thoughts that (she) might have perished in the queen beast's final cry began to weigh on his mind, but he knew this was impossible. Their pact was yet active, and their lives were linked together – the fact that he was alive meant that the dragon still clung to life as well.

The silent man examined the area he was in – just another part of the woods he landed in. He would have to decide on what his next course of action would be soon; the sun did not look as though it would be up for much longer, and it would only be harder to find his way around when the darkness of the night set in. He thought of whether to attempt to navigate himself out of these woods by finding a vantage point, or to continue contacting his dragon, and search for (her). Another tempting idea was to simply tear through this forest in a single direction; as long as he kept moving in the same direction, it was certain that he would reach the edge and escape the woods.

[ ] Find a vantage point.
[ ] Search for your dragon.
[ ] Pick a direction and charge headlong.
No. 171735
[x] Search for your dragon.
No. 171739
[x] Search for your dragon.
Obviously.
No. 171743
[X] Pick a direction and charge headlong.

Setting fire to the woods would solve the problem of the night being too dark.
No. 171748
[X] Search for your dragon.
DRAGON
DRAGON WHERE ARE YOU?
PICK UP THE TELEPATHY PHONE YOU BITCH
No. 171750
[x] Search for your dragon.

Never go anywhere without your murder buddy.
No. 171752
[x]Search for your Dragon.

ANGELUS? ANGELUS? COME ON. THIS ISN'T THE FIRST TIME WE'VE DIED AND REWINDED TIME.

WE'LL BUTCHER THE IMPERIAL ARMY AGAIN, IT'LL BE FUN.

PICK UP THE DAMN TELEPATHIC PHONE, ANGELUS. IF I AIN'T DEAD, NEITHER ARE YOU.
No. 171757
[x] Search for your dragon.

>>171729
What did you expect? It literally begins with them falling into Gensokyo.
No. 171784
[x]Search for your Dragon.
No. 171803
[x] Search for your durgon.
No. 171815
>>171757
I expect an invasion story of some sort.
No. 171998
Trust me, you don't want an invasion of the Watchers. Not in Gensokyo. Not even Yukari can handle a WTF of that magnitude.
No. 172145
>Caim
Oh boy. We in for a ride.