Conversation Space: The Ultimate

[powersthatbe]

You feel as if you've stepped through a door.

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[imitable]

Major paces around the edge of the cloud, steps firm, back rigid. She's alert — not necessarily prepared for a fight, but she's not about to let anyone sneak up on her. The concept of Heaven — angels, God, everything divine — it's not foreign to her, but it's also not somewhere that she thinks she belongs. She has a ghost, and she's starting to understand what that means. But an afterlife? When you can be reduced to nothing but code, does anyone ever really die?

Major stalks up to the cup, contemplates it. She dips a finger in, and rubs the pad of her thumb and index finger together.

[callmemeibe]

Major's sensory receptors detect the sweet scent of the liquid, feel the smooth texture on her false skin, and see how the liquid seems to glisten under the light in a way that water or other liquids would.

A shift in the air behind her indicates a presence a few meters away, but the figure does not seem to be interested in moving closer.

"Greetings."

[imitable]

Major turns, brow creasing as she looks upon the figure now joining her in the room. Her body tenses as she goes on alert. So far, she doesn't sense any danger — but she hasn't gotten this far by letting her guard down in situations like this.

"Who are you?"

[callmemeibe]

"I am Judgment, the Twentieth Arcanum. I have chosen the name Penuel this round. I am your patron this round of Synodiporia."

[imitable]

That just brings up more questions. It takes Major a moment to decide which question to ask first — which is the most important, which will get her the answers she seeks.

"What is this? This.. 'synodiporia'? A game?"

[callmemeibe]

"A tournament, not a game," they answer, perhaps a bit too defensively. "Call it a game if you wish, but it is much more important than mortal entertainments. This tournament among my kind determines the fate of the World."