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Sorry for the long intro, I had to figure out what Nero's up to!

Nero was a failure.

That wasn’t an uncommon thought of his -- not by a long shot. He’d always considered himself imperfect, low as dirt, when compared to his immaculate brother. However, when presented with the most important of tasks as of late, the Tsviet was suffering failure after humbling failure. He hadn’t yet found his brother, nor any of the other Deepground Operatives (other than Shelke, that scum of the earth, that hellish imp whose existence did nothing but tO FRUSTRATE HIM--), not that they were of much importance. He hadn’t been able to scale the tower to claim the power that could have been Kuja’s.

Honestly, he’d been barely accomplishing more than just being alive. Even that was something of an exhausting task in a world where everything seemed to seek destruction. Thankfully, the Sable was able to easily avoid most encounters with beasts of gnashing teeth, and people who raised swords and guns to him. For the most part, they were no match for the void that was tethered to his very soul. However, they had provided little use to him in the ways of knowledge in the world.

Weak little humans, wishing to do nothing but fulfill their own dirty little desires, acting as selfish heathens, mindless mindless mindless.

After his experience at the tower, Nero sought anything in this world that he could bring back to Kuja to be of some use. He failed to gather the power that some mysterious force called for, but there were likely other treasures around the land. When he was feeling particularly cooperative, the Tsviet would converse with others around the land about their fairy tales, their lore. It was a stretch, but even much of Gaia’s treasures had been buried in lore, followed by scientific discovery. However, Nero couldn’t force himself near anyone that even resembled a scientist. He was likely to murder them on the spot.

After finding nothing of interest at the Crystallus Divider, the Sable had made his way back south, toward a place he’d heard of called the Metaia Temple. Without the burden of the metal wings that once adorned his back, it was much easier for Nero to blend into a normal crowd. He simply seemed strange to talk to, he presumed, as scholarly men and women gave him strange looks within the small village outside of the magnificent temple. Nero was dressed in his combat boots and his typical Deepground suit, using what was left of the mako to help hone his control over the darkness within his body. He wore a black coat over it, in order to not draw attention to the strange glowing hue of mako lined around the suit as he attempted to speak to the locals, and find anything of interest.

For the god’s sake, these people were dry, even for Nero’s naturally curious mind. Each of them seemed to be interested in something different within the temple -- magicks, runes, objects. Apparently, it seemed there was more to the temple than met the naked eye, secret knowledge that lie within. Even now, in the quiet night outside of the temple, men and women slowly filtered out into the dark streets, making their way home to rest on their quest for knowledge and start anew in the morning. The Tsviet watched them carefully from the shadows, his glowing red, cat-like eyes sharp for anything of particular interest -- a protected tome, a strange object, anything.

Yet, no one carried anything out. There were people inside, however, who Nero had witnessed walking into the temple days ago, who had not yet returned. Perhaps those were the ones to follow.

Quietly, the Tsviet made his way into the temple, his steps silent as he walked along a path of self-made darkness. Firelight lit the hallways of the magnificent structure, and Nero felt all too disturbingly at home surrounded by the dark, stone walls. There was the very slightest, cool wind, hinting that there were likely structures deep within the earth.

Surely, I can find something of use to him, here. Kuja, I will not fail you, I can’t -- I can’t, I can’t.

There weren’t many wakeful souls so late into the night, but Nero still kept his ears sharp for any information shared between people as they unknowingly passed him in the shadows. As he made his way along, he felt along the doors, pressing for entry, and turning away if the door opened. Secrets would not be out in the open. Humans were the same everywhere -- if there was powerful knowledge, it would be safely guarded. Hidden, from the general public. Protected.

Down one of the hallways, Nero found a door that was locked. His gloved fingers delicately worked the knob for a moment, and he was sure that it was locked, not just jammed. There was the smallest bit of flickering light coming from beneath the door; a sign of life. The Tsviet drew forth his darkness, the black tendrils snaking up the door as he passed through it -- silently, keeping to the void.

Inside were two men sleeping at a table, their forms only barely lit by a candle. Easy, Nero internally scoffed to himself as he quietly passed them, the darkness still licking at his fingers. Reconnaissance was his specialty, and in this dark room, the men would never know that he was there. The lack of light was of no worry to him, with his Soldier enhancements, the Deepground operative could see just fine. He drifted toward one of the bookshelves, his eyes glancing over the dusty, old book spines.

He knew, generally, what words or symbols to look for, thanks to the people he’d spoken to within the village. Feigning interest in their weird obsessions would have some advantage, Nero mused as his fingers grabbed at one of the books. Some people could feel magic, he’d heard, but that seemed like something out of a children’s book.

Save for Kuja, anyway. Kuja could do anything.

Nero’s eyes flew open wide as he heard the familiar click of a lock being opened. He clutched the book in one arm, while summoning forth his darkness with the other, quietly stalking back into the shadows. He remained motionless while a strange figure entered the room -- a woman, from the looks of it, tall with a strange hair piece. She brazenly walked forward toward one of the bookshelves, immediately exploring the books with a fevor Nero did not possess. He would have believed her a regular at the temple, if it weren’t for the reaction of one of the men as they awoke.

The woman made quick work of the two sleepy scholars, in such a fashion that the Tsviet knew he was wise to hide. She could teleport, much quicker than he could, and it seemed she possessed a magic of some sort. Nero silently stalked back into a corner, covered by the darkness as the woman summoned a light of her own to explore the books with. Well, how annoying this had become. There was definitely something worth finding in the room, since it had been protected, but was it worth attempting to work around this powerful woman? He could likely absorb several books into his darkness before she would notice, and teleporting back out into the hallway would be easy enough, but …

He’d already failed enough already.

As Nero weighed his options in the back of the room, another voice interrupted the silence. A man had appeared in the doorway, calling out the powerful woman in a near casual manner. It was obvious he didn’t actually know her -- it seemed more like the over confident banter of a man who tasted success at the end of a sword. Nero knew that kind of attitude well, considering how many unfortunate souls had challenged him for the rank of Tsivet.

With more than one player present, however, it was more likely that he could potentially align himself with whoever had more knowledge of the temple and the secrets that it held. The Sable’s goal wasn’t to fight or kill, today. It was simply to find something to bring back to Kuja, whom he owed so very much to. It was the force that drove Nero forward to keep moving, the warmth that spread in his heart and gave him purpose. Biting on his lip for a moment, Nero finally revealed himself from the shadows, partially at least. He kept his left arm along the wall, concealed in his darkness, his fingers grasping his heavy handgun.

“Curiosity,” Nero murmured softly, his red eyes turned to the blonde stranger in the doorway, “Is the reason all beings are attracted to this temple.” He quickly turned his attention to the intimidating woman, dark tendrils of the inner-void pawing at the stone floor near his feet. The Tsviet knew when he was likely outclassed, and he was prepared to run if need be.

His gaze flickered back to the man in the doorway, tilting his head ever slightly, thick black hair drifting over his coat, “You are the one who seems out of place.”

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Nero, the most sane of the three.

Searching through the tomes of knowledge would have been much easier if Nero knew exactly what he was looking for. Mystical “magic” didn’t exist in such a form on his world. Everything was tied to the Lifestream, something physical that had been studied and subsequently abused by scientists. Magic was simply compressed and processed mako created for a specific purpose. However, on this planet, the Tsviet had both pleasant and unpleasant experiences with real magic. Power that people could call to their fingertips without the help of materia or any other physical object. As if magic simply ran in their veins.

To him, the books seemed to be filled with gibberish of one form or another. Though he could read, and read well in the dark, the ugly scrawl of ancient texts was difficult to desire. He flipped through one or two, searching for keywords or figures he might have recognized, anything about magic or dragons, unnerved by the silence coming from the other side of the room.

Nero lifted his hand, thin fingers stretching to grab the next book, before all of his alarming instincts blared in his head. He had only half a second to realize that there was a presence next to him, before a clawed hand grabbed him around the wrist. The Sable froze, his eyes wide as his head snapped to look at the woman next to him. "Things would be much easier," Nero’s chest stilled, unable to breathe, the hairs on the back of his neck standing as the woman peeled the book from his fingers, leaving it hovering in midair, "If we were left alone."

Her golden eyes were glued to his, and Nero could do nothing but stare back, like a prey animal caught in a trap. What was left of his mangled human instinct screamed danger, run, run, this is death, she could kill you in a moment, she will, she will -- kill --, however he couldn’t budge. His feet refused to move, and as he swallowed dryly, forcing himself to finally breathe, the Tsviet wondered just how quickly she could zap him out of existence.

The thought was as terrifying as it was mesmerizing.

"Take what you will unless it involves history or time magic."

It was a demand and a threat coiled into one. Nero simply silently nodded, his dark bangs casting a shadow over his glowing eyes as he quickly shoved the stolen tome back onto the shelf. He watched as the woman moved gracefully to reviewing the books of her own accord, and the Tsviet let his tattooed hand rest on the dusty wood of the shelf. The oblivion licked at his boots, tempting him away from the danger for his own protection, and Nero had half a mind to follow its direction.

But, he couldn’t. He would have to continue to attempt to coexist with the woman, until he found what he needed for Kuja. What type of magic he found wasn’t important -- she could have all the history and time magic that she wanted -- surely he could find something else. Nero hurriedly grabbed another book, flipping through its pages, before he nearly jumped at the sound of the other man’s voice.

Right. There was the blonde man there as well.

He considered ignoring the man’s comments still, but the fairy tale hero trope was grinding on him more than it should have been. Was the man’s job not done, now that the civilians were saved? Why would he still linger about, when the woman they were both occupying the room with was clearly extremely powerful and dangerous? If Nero were following his better judgement, he too would have turned tail and left, but being tired of repeated failures to find something worthwhile for Kuja kept him planted in the dangerous situation.

“I believe the more important question to be asked,” Nero muttered, shoving the book back onto the bookshelf after determining it had no value to him, “Is not why we are here. Clearly, we are both searching for something worthwhile for different reasons.”

He turned to look at the blonde man in the doorway, narrowing his glowing, red eyes in annoyance, “The more important question is; why, in Gaia’s name, are you still here? Even I see that it is clear this woman could end the two of us in mere moments if she wished to. Yet, you continue to provoke her. Are you suicidal? There are easier ways to die.”

Nero could easily, and quickly, teleport outside of the entire stupid temple if things began to go badly between the three, but the man had only shown some short range teleportation ability with a weapon. And, it seemed, the woman could move faster than either of them. The man was poking a dangerous dragon with a stick, in Nero’s mind, and he couldn’t see the logic behind the blonde’s thoughts. The monks were alive and safe. Why not go get back up if he wished to take on a likely dangerous opponent? Why not evacuate more people, if he really felt the woman was a threat? Did the man have no basic training? Even the Tsviet’s, the strongest of all of Deepground’s psychotic experiments, relied on each other when they knew they were backed into a corner. It was basic army training, and simple human logic.

The Sable shook his head at the blonde, before piling a few more books in his arms. Good god, all he’d wished to do was sneak into the room and find some magic STUFF, why was all of this happening, why every time when he wanted to dO SOMETHING USEFUL -- every --- every time--.