give me arms to pray with
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- Parts 6
MatureOngoing27m
Last published Thu, Nov 21, 2024
STATUS - ONGOING
this story is about my original characters. all character mentioned and art depicted in this story are all drawn by me except for photos I have specifically mentioned are from the web.
SYNOPSIS:
In the underground nation of Deepmantle, where steam powers an industrial empire, SteelBlue Corporation's augmented agents share a peculiar commonality - none can remember their lives before waking up on Dr. Veto's operating table.
Hu Caini opens his eyes to find his arm replaced with mechanical precision, guided by the unsettlingly cheerful Australian cybernetics genius who treats his creations like proud achievements rather than unwilling transformations. Codenamed "Priest," Hu joins the ranks of agents who speak with unfamiliar accents and carry themselves like strangers in a foreign land, each modified and reprogrammed to fight.
As communist forces threaten to upend the undercity's power structure, questions lurk beneath the hiss of steam and whir of gears. Why do these agents share no common history with Deepmantle's citizens? What makes them perfect for transformation? And most haunting of all - what memories lie behind the fog in their minds, just out of reach?
In this steampunk dystopia, the war for Deepmantle's future is fought by warriors who can't shake the feeling that they once belonged somewhere else entirely, their bodies and minds reconstructed to serve a cause that feels as foreign as their surroundings.
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Through thick and thin the Law shall prevail. A new sense of purpose awaits us, children of light, in the land where it all began. The darkness in which we once cowered in fear, now curbed by the might of our endless light. Come, brothers, come, sisters. Let there be peace among the wicked, just as the Law dictates. Peace and certainty is all that you have ever longed for, little angel. A bright, stable future. A roof without holes above thy head. Acknowledgement and recognition of thy existence, feverish dreams of grandeur. Greed born from yearning, treacherous vines of rapacity taint your innocent soul. You seek a future that does not exist. Let thy fingers hold the fragile line between dream and nightmare. Let thy light navigate the path. Shall thee give in and falter, O' land of old, envelop his body in thy unending flame of chaos. Spit out nothing but an empty husk, the remnants of a smile once so bright. Shall thee prevail, O', Great Kazdel, I ask of you, the impossible - take mercy on the innocent. Don't let the radiance dim and don't let the mind turn bleak. Wake, young traveler. Bid thy farewells and burn thy bridges. It's time to say goodbye, curly head. Cross post from AO3. For a shorter and more on-point description, look no further! I had something silly written up before throwing it out in exchange for that wall of text upstairs. It's a little story "about a young, dumb sankta who's been dealt a bad hand at life, looking for his place in all this mess. The pointless search for a better future leads him far, far away from home, to a country forever ravaged by war and misery - Kazdel, the promised land where devils roam free and peace feels out of place." Anyway, it's quite lengthy, but hopefully enjoyable? Slide a comment if you want, I'll give you a tiny kiss on the forehead. Man, do I love comments. (Lastly, to point out, English is not my native language, but I don't think it'll be much of an issue ;3)
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