Thunder and Webs C131 [Gold]

Crouching Dagger. The First Prince of Muramasa. He swings low, but aims high.

Chapter 131: The First Prince

Ripley’s report to Diana before the Muramasa Extermination Raid on The First Prince: Crouching Dagger

So... far as I understand, no one knows what this guy looks like. No one knows who he is, how he fights, or anything. He always creates an information blackout to prevent anyone from accessing the Net, scrambles their Frames so we have no data from his victims, has drones that create illusions to prevent any onlookers from realizing a fight could be happening meters away from them…

The only thing left is the aftermath. The massacre. What we know, is that he uses a dagger based on some of the wounds left on his victims, but those aren’t the only wounds. They’re utterly decimated, I’m talking real nasty gore and war crimes level of devastation on the corpses. The royalty of Muramasa has many specialties, and his is the art of massacre. You’d think he was their assassin. But he isn’t. He doesn’t take out just one target, he never only goes for one person.

He kills dozens, and we have no clue how.

I think its safe to say that him and his Black Dragons are the most lethal criminal black-ops unit in all of Westcrook.

February 27th

8:44 PM

Ripley

“Crouching…” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Elsa’s prone form, blood leaking from her brain as both temples — and whatever was in between — were pierced seconds ago. I saw red.

Black Dragons came slashing down on me, but Hypermind Prime and the Thought Multiplier tightened my jaw until I felt a tooth crack.

Muramasa X Murder

The scene of that dagger played out in my head again and again, and each time it fed my drive to massacre these bastards just like I once had. In brilliant clockwork, I deflected each falling blade and launched precision strikes of my own, but these Black Dragons were an entire breed of their own in the art of sword play. Metal clanged and met the raw strength of the Arachnodyne with skill as they parried, dashed and riposted the four blades of my dorsal limbs without breaking a sweat.

Each and every one of them was a master of the blade.

Nicks and slashes broke through even with Hypermind, rough punches from my arms or kicks from my legs working to keep those blades away from me but even then, some scraped and shaved steel to score my back and stomach with shallow wounds that spewed black blood.

But all I could see was that dagger, blood still dripping off its bladed edge. My girlfriend's blood. Crouching Dagger remained in their low stance, their near headless body addressing the fear-paralyzed crowd. “None of you will leave.”

Then they turned to Alice. “And you must state your relation to him.”

Alice was frozen in place, shaking as the dagger smeared with Elsa’s blood pointed at her.

I didn’t let it move another inch. I let blades pierce and dent my steel body as the javelin tips went forward and launched me towards the First Prince, momentum twisted my claws into the softer side of their flesh and I wrenched with all the rage and need to murder that I could.

Intestines spilled out as I tore the body in half, tossing them away as I turned to Alice. “Get behind something, anything!”

Then, quickly, I filled a syringe in my claws with Neolymph and stabbed into Elsa’s wound to fill it with the blackened liquid. She was The Dogwhistler. There was no way she could die from an attack like there.

There was no-

The Arachnodyne reacted to toss me, Elsa and Alice away just as a dagger came crashing down on us. I threw them behind the diner’s bar, raising my claw up at the assailant but stunned to see it was… a patron of this place, an older man with a limp, a beer belly and balding. He was shaken just a moment ago, hardly a fighter, yet he crouched low in that same stance with the same dagger. “Strong. Fast. I can see why my sister was excited to fight you.”

“Honey, what are you doing, why are you-!” A woman moved, and then was cut down as the dagger flew from the patron’s hands and into her neck like a thrown spear. A tether of wires and… blood vessels constricted to pull the blade back into the patron’s hands. Their cold, dilated gaze had remained on me the entire time. “No one moves, no one leaves.”

I tightened, I didn’t have my usual weaponry on me, nor a suit to protect me. Starlight, get Daylight and Midnight out of Elsa! Some part of her’s still alive if her Implant hasn’t left, use the nanites to keep her heart pumping!.

“I-I… okay, okay!” Starlight left me, as the patron launched towards me. The bones of their legs broke apart from the force of it, but a coiling serpent of blood vessels fixed them back into place.

My Arachnodyne spurred to action as a blitzing combo poured down in a rain of sparks. Each time, they attacked so forcefully that their own bones would break but arteries and veins wrapped around to reinforce themselves. This was unfathomable speed from what seemed like a Tier I SIM Adapter, a civilian whose Mutations would never be served for combat like this.

It was only a quick five seconds but I must have deflected several dozen blows before their bones broke so many times that a humerus shattered at the dagger’s contact with my Arachnodyne. At that moment, the advantage moved to me as I gripped their forearm and strangled their limbs upwards. I was about to tear them off, but something didn’t feel right about this?

Were these sleeper agents… or…?

A bullet shot went out, and blood burst on my face as jaw bones fragmented. One of the patrons, a man in police uniform, lifted his finger to his temple and his eyes flickered blue. “Dammit! This is Officer Dillon to The First Precinct! Muramasa Black Dragons… and a so-called Prince hello?!”

The corpse in my hands, twitched and the dagger tensed as it tried to slash towards me, but I made my choice and wrenched the arm off. And then the Dagger flew away and towards the officer. I tried to hit it with my Arachnodyne, but it slipped through the air and curved around my angular limbs to stab into the officer’s metal hand. He grunted, reaching for the hilt.

That was when a centipede-like thing of metal and blood dug into his steel hand, wires snaked and wrapped into the limb as the Officer's eyes dilated. There was no struggle, no moment of realizing he’d lost control, only wide eyes and a slow smile as his gun lifted to his temple. “I always hate it when they interrupt my duels.”

The bullet shot through with no fanfare and his body collapsed, but the dagger jumped out of the officer’s hand, flying into the cybernetic palm of another patron as it forcefully dug wires through the Shardware. That shouldn’t be possible…

Frequency Sync tried to reach out, but found barely anything except the new approaching patron. But I was sure of it.

That dagger was… an Adapter. It’s black hilt and veined hilt was the true form of The First Prince. “What did your father do to you?”

“He and The Revenant perfected me.” The patron smiled, Crouching Dagger smiled.

They weren’t a weapon to wield, but a weapon that wielded.

The Officer attacked me like they’d mastered the art of knifework ten-times over, it was almost shameful for me to consider that my four Arachnodynes were being matched by a mere Iron with a dagger, but this was beyond any normal Adapter’s output. Their metal limbs sparked and tore with each thrust, jab, slice or stab, the blurring footwork creaked and splintered steel plating while that Dagger proved sharp and volatile enough to chip away at my Arachnodyne.

I pinned a jagged tip into their steel forearm, slicing it off but the dagger hopped to the other hand, wires seamlessly worming inside to control them in a second, but I cut my loss and made a choice I knew Diana had to make plenty of times. I speared the Arachnodyne through their heart, another two of my arachnid limbs flowing to catch that dagger before it could corrupt someone else.

But it cut through the patron’s arm to evade my limbs, effortlessly swimming through the air to float and force it’s hilt into another patron’s arm.

Hypermind Prime cracked as it gave me the aim to shoot an Arachne tip and sever the arm at the elbow, a fresh splurt of blood kept the man’s eyes from dilating as the dagger flew away from the detached limb and into…

A Black Dragon’s hands. The twelve of them had just been standing there, waiting patiently as I fought off those civilian patrons corrupted by Crouching Dagger, but now one of them had become host. A Silver Tier II enhanced by that living weapon.

For the first time, Hypermind wasn’t fast enough. I could barely react as the dagger plunged in my stomach when I swore they’d been standing on the opposite end of the diner one blink ago. I snarled as the quadruple assault of my Arachnodyne built space between us, but their katana easily deflected and continued their assault against me.

It had been easier dealing with all twelve Black Dragons at once compared to this Crouching Dagger enhanced version of one. They were by far the most skilful Adapter I’d ever seen in close-quarters combat, a dauntless assault and bastion all the same as each swipe of the blades were made with utmost killing intent and force that seamlessly blended in to break me down and keep himself untouched.

Each parry sent jolts up my arms, the clang of steel on steel ringing in my ears like a death knell. The air thrummed with the exertion, sweat stinging my eyes, mingling with the tang of blood. Fear, cold and sharp, pricked at my skin despite the burning rage fuelling my defence. His movements were a blur, a whirlwind of lethal precision, each strike carrying the weight of a collapsing mountain.

I had four fucking blades, each the height of this Black Dragon, and yet I was the one being pushed back.

“I expected better from you, Donovick.” The dagger in his left hand skated along the length of my Arachnodyne and grated off a massive chunk of its plating.

I caught it from slicing into my neck by letting it jab through the palm of my left hand. “Bastard, who fucking sent you to kill me?”

“Oh, I wasn’t sent to kill you. I already achieved my goal.” I could hear a proud smile behind that Black Dragon mask. They were here for Elsa.

Suddenly, I felt my left hand loosen in control. It offered no resistance and the dagger plunged deeper and came into contact with the Dreadfiber armor that had spilled over my skin. A thin light filtered through my clothes — sunlight through smoke — and a wave of force shot the dagger just in time for Starlight to reach me with two other Emulects.

“What kind of fucking DataCleaver is that?!” Midnight growled, black zaps circuiting across my impaled left hand to return control to me.

“Oh, wow, this is exciting!” Daylight yelled. “We don’t know anything about this guy!”

“Dad! Bad news: Elsa’s brain-dead. Good news: her brain’s really an accessory organ and she’s currently an Avatar while the Neolymph keeps her body alive. Other bad news: there’s a network lockdown preventing her from reaching The Net.”

Reaching the net… she was trying to contact her Dogwhistler core. Despite the relief flooding me, I couldn’t take a moment to break away as blades breathed on my skin from the casual, yet breakneck pace of Crouching Dagger.

“If you run out of Warp Energy dad… the Neolymph will lose efficiency. She’ll be isolated.”

They weren’t trying to kill her, but isolate her from her body and kidnap her. Why?

Project Virtue. That had to be it, they were trying to learn how she survived the original death of her body through the Net. So was it SynTec and Skeleton?

Regardless, I couldn’t afford to lose. I wouldn’t win this all-out duel against The First Prince, but if I could break apart the lockdown…

I swapped priorities through Thought Multiplier.

Muramasa x Blade

And then, I Synchronized with Daylight and Midnight. At once, my body experienced an overload of pure sensation as my mind truly came to understand the black-and-white nature of their existence. There was no joy for Midnight, no sadness for Daylight. Not in their current forms. But as my very thoughts bridged them, manic contempt twisted into glee inebriated every action of mine.

“I’ll dissect you.” I growled, and my body shifted — it glitched.

Glitch Module Selected.

I may not have been armed with the Glitch Cloak, but the Module served to turn me into a torrent of conflicting Warpcode patterns brought to order. In a rapid pace, all my modules switched between one another — but few were absorbed away when I fought Diana. Hammer and Burn would have been useful, Wield less so.

Insight and Overcome worked in tandem to see-through the rapid blurs threatening to overwhelm Hypermind — I could feel it slipping and cracking away as time sputtered. Daylight dealt with the mental exhaustion while scattered nanites in the air acted as a way for Midnight to pierce against the onslaught of dagger and katana versus my four steel, arachnid limbs.

A cacophony of clashing steel and crackling energy filled the air, a metallic tang mixing with the ozone scent of sparking electricity. The feeling was overwhelming – a chaotic rush of information assaulting my senses, each glitch a physical jolt, a momentary lapse into pure, unfiltered power.

My vision blurred, a kaleidoscope of shifting colors and fragmented forms. Daylight's warmth felt like a searing brand, while Midnight's chill was an icy grip constricting my veins. The effort of maintaining control was immense, a strain that threatened to shatter my mind. Each swing of my limbs was a calculated risk, a desperate dance between creation and annihilation.

But this Black Dragon was just Bronze. A bone shattered, and my claws seized forth as five brilliant chords of Livewire intercepted their faltering limb. Before the bones could be forced back into position, an injection of Neolymph grafted my thoughts to his musculature.

Then I swapped Modules.

Codex Module selected.

His thoughts became my own, and it was only now that I understood the true depravity of Crouching Dagger’s manipulation. That blade did not seize control of the mind, but of the body. This Dragon had no name, no purpose other than to be wielded by The First Prince. They were trapped in a cage as their carefully designed muscles and bones were tormented and seized to combat me, but remained utterly content.

Those innocent patrons had been aware of their actions, but unable to stop themselves. That man had killed his partner in cold blood, his hands had thrown the blade — while his consciousness was imprisoned in a shell of muscle and bone. There was no fighting back. Crouching Dagger did not seek to control your mind, he sought to trap it.

Unique Feature Identified: Isolate [Containment]

The nanites pulsed through their body, through their heart and brain as I sought for a fracture to exploit. I had to act quickly. I didn’t want anymore people to die. But how the hell was I going to break past a Unique Feature designed to prevent contact with the outer world? A truck had crashed through the front of a diner, yet no police arrived. They had to be masking this entire place with holograms, so that meant drones. And a Net lockdown preventing any of these patrons from contacting help.

But I couldn’t leave to intercept them, I didn’t have any Scraplings on me and…

All of you, be ready… I’m going to try and grab that dagger.

I gritted, commanding my nanites to chew apart brain-matter and tissues but to avoid touching any of those wires and blood vessels connected to the hilt of that dagger. I didn’t want to risk The Prince locking down any Neolymph.

The Dragon’s body broke and battered against my Arachnodyne, which was taking a serious beating. Tears in tendons and splintered musculature gave way an opening as their katana moved slower and slower until an opening led to a clean swipe.

From head to groin, an Arachnodyne blade slipped through in a blink. That was all it took for two halves of a body to part and for the Dagger to fall away and try to fly into another grip.

Hypermind choked as a single claw-tip managed to graze the hilt, and Starlight was quick to act as a buffer to bind my mind with what was hidden in that dagger.

Murder. A torrent of images – a shadowed alley, a scream cut short, the glint of moonlight on a blade. The smell of old blood, acrid and sharp, clung to the air. A chilling dread, a physical weight on my chest, replaced the initial shock. Everywhere: torn throats, decimated skulls, betrayal of allies and a black dagger stained scarlet.

Starlight, Daylight and Midnight all screamed and that was when I drew my claw back from that hilt and the grasping tendrils away. Those tendrils launched and chewed their way into the hand of a second Black Dragon. “Congratulations, you beat the weakest of my Dragons.”

The weakest? I tensed, feeling like I’d already drained more than half of my Warp Energy.

“Dad… Elsa got through. That moment let her slip by.” Starlight reported, and I knew that things had taken a drastic turn. How long until she can help?

“I don’t know.” Starlight whispered, “but that guy is… wrong. He’s death incarnate.”

He’s in a Shard Adapter now, we have the advantag-

The dagger fell from the Black Dragon’s hands, a tether of bloody wires hooked up into the steel of their arm. In an instant, they flicked the blade and it shot to me, curved around my Arachnodyne — and broke through my trachea.

Blood and spinal fluid leaked into my throat as my Arachnodyne fell slack and all sensation failed to register down my neck. Unthinkable pain blossomed where my nerves still worked, but the act of being impaled through the neck and having your spinal cord severed at the cervical region was…

Fear gripped me as the Black Dragon heaved the rope dart and brought their katana in position. I couldn’t feel the pain, but some unknown sense of dread shook through my skull as I simply knew that he pierced my heart. An organ that was very much all flesh.

“How pathetic.” A distasteful click of their tongue hissed at me. “No wonder you came begging to my sister searching for a deal to seek freedom. Skeleton gave me the impression that you were-”

A ceramic mug smashed into their mask, and I heard Alice’s voice yell. “Ge-get away from him-!”

Hypermind activated one last time as it cracked away into dust. Their katana flicked, fingertips loosening to throw into Alice but it moved through mercury as my Neolymph pulsed. The black liquid formed threads around my severed spinal chord, acting as nerves to conduct brain-signals back down into my spine and Arachnodyne.

A flick an arachnid limb knocked the flung sword down into ground, and another three blades converged to snap into the Dragon’s body. One through a clavicle, another through a rib, and a final one to sever the arm holding his dagger into my neck. All three of them dissected to rip apart organs, from heart to lungs, to spine until they were beheaded, bisected, torn apart into a pile of blood and steel.

I staggered back, unsteady on my feet as Goliath slowly healed my severed spine and torn throat. My movements were dull as Hypermind Prime faded away into nothingness, but I still tried to grab into the blade sticking through my throat by yanking the chord of vessels and wires. I gagged as the sharp tug only tore more flesh, the black dagger slick with Neolymph as it tried to fly away from my leash.

Crouching Dagger wasn’t trying to take over my body, why?

That single question and my still-healing heartbeat slowed my brain enough that I was just too slow to react to a Black Dragon slicing down on me. I took a step back as four dorsal blades deflected the katana, and the Dagger cut itself free to fly away.

I twisted momentum to catch that blade once more, recognizing its trajectory, but the levitatory tech within evaded my grasp just as easily as it always had — and I saw it fly towards Alice.

She screamed and tried to dodge, but the tether from its hilt snapped like a snake biting at her palm.

A javelin of black-and-gold shot out.

I tried my best to ignore the screams of pain from this child I’d tried to save as her hand fell down and left a bloody stump. I zipped over to her, as quickly as I could — my mind screaming with guilt as I split my attention between sealing her stump with Neolymph and stealing that dagger, but it was nimble and almost mocking as it flicked away to land into the hand of another patron.

Another innocent taken hostage. Made a weapon. The woman smiled, even as a man next to her tried to stop her but she easily pushed him aside. I looked at Alice, tears falling down her face as pain overwrought her fragile mind, I saw Elsa with a dead-expression on her face, Neolymph working to repair her brain-matter, while I had ten more Black Dragons and about fourteen civilians left to fight. If I killed them, I’d be repeating the same mistake that led Alice into the clutches of that brothel.

My brain shut off. The Preservation Matrix took over.

Personality Editor Output: 100%

I stood up, regarding the faces of those frozen civilians, unable to process what their lives would be after this harrowing assault. They were innocent, I knew that. But I didn’t care anymore.

If a dagger flew into their hands, they were my enemies. Even if they were corpses, The First Prince could control them. Neolymph loaded into all ten digits of my fingers, coating them.

The First Prince watched with subdued curiosity as ten of the patrons suddenly received an injection of my nanites, then without wasting a second, I loaded up another four dosages and stabbed them into the remaining patrons. Then I commanded my nanites to feast.

Fourteen Patrons. Devoured entirely, and assuming I had enough Warp Energy, I could acquire 150 kilograms of Midas Steel. Instead, I wielded the unique properties of Soul Graft. Goliath was me, even separated, it was bound to my Implant… and a vessel to steal Energy thanks to my consumption of Diana’s blood.

Like a parasite, their Implants were attacked, feeding the dwindled depths of my reserves while simultaneously ruining their bodies as tendons and micro-musculature were made a mockery off. They began to dissolve, and their own Energy fed their doom.

Such was the authority held by a Gold Adapter. “You wanted a duel? Crouching Dagger?”

My claw retrieved the Silver BUG of the fallen Black Dragon, the First Prince offered no resistance as I gripped his servant’s Implant in my claws. “You wanted to see Dreadwire?”

Compared to the machinations of my recent endeavors, it was child’s play to manipulate this Implant. It was only ever adapted for the art of blades, and as such… all the pieces came together easily.

The Bladework Module slipped into my Mimicset, but it was not the Implant I chose to mimic. No, Codex grew as Gold commanded its Source-Touched properties to cast a shadow over Bladework, drowning it in a rising tide as memories resurfaced and were digested for my understanding.

I chuckled. “You got someone worse.”

“Dad?” A terrified sound came from Starlight. “What are you… what did you just…?”

I’m learning how to fight like Muramasa. I strode over to the fallen Katanas of the two Black Dragons, picking up each in my grip as I raised them towards Crouching Dagger. A sly, anticipatory smile grew over them. “And who is that, exactly?”

“Ripley Donovick.” I answered, as Codex deciphered decades of Muramasa swordplay. Turning the experiences of others... into my updates.