Work Text:
It had been only a week since she took hold of the Alpha Brick.
Since then, Bloxburg, and almost all of Robloxia, had been turned upside-down by the Aeonite Priestess.
The streets once thriving have become devoid of all life, save the occasional pest, growth and spectral shadow. What remains of modern civilization have survived in back alleys and ruins.
It was these heathens who kept attempting assaults and raids against the perfection she aspired.
Zanzel was exploring an empty residential building, scouring for these accursed, stubborn rebels. Her army of spirits can never truly be too large, after all, and she was certainly no stranger to handling things on her own. Floating just next to her is the Alpha Brick, its once awing and inspiring aura turned imposing and oppressive with her modifications. So what if parts of reality itself had rended in its wake? What were mere numbers to infinity?
Zanzel shook her head; she should be focusing! Those filthy recusants have been playing hide-and-seek ever since she took power! A single moment of distraction and they could slip right underneath her nose!
… she silently berated herself for not bringing her Apocrypha with her; aside from being bodyguards, they could have detected imperfections where she couldn't…
Zanzel opened another door and entered another one of the many once-residences. She observed the room she found herself in intently.
It wasn't anything fancy; three rooms: a washroom, a bedroom, and a kitchen combined with a living room. The desks, shelves, and refrigerator were ransacked and left ajar. All power was cut out and belongings stripped.
Zanzel sighed, disappointed. She turned around about to leave the room when-
a faint crackle from the bedroom.
From the doorway, it had to have been less than a whisper, and yet Zanzel honed in on the sound. Slowly sneaking her way across the house, she dashed into the bedroom with a ball of green flame in her hands, ready to fire-
…
-only to realize that the sounds came from an active radio box just next to the bedroom doorway, invisible to anybody viewing it from the outside.
The grand priestess groaned silently. She dissipated the orb and moved to the shelf to try and examine the thing, so as to convince herself this was at least only a partial waste of time.
The middle of the rectangular box glowed a faint orange, with three dark bars on each side going up and down according to the beat of the song.
Heathen defiers, couldn't even pluck the power source out. Zanzel thought, with admittedly a bit of spite for this distraction.
…Sure, she had never actually gotten intimate with the world of technologies, but surely it couldn't have been that hard to take what had to be the little energy they had for future use? She could've been a better rebel than half of these ruffians!
...all while she was focused on her internal scolding of the survivors, she noticed that it seemed a new song had started playing. Aren't these supposed to function by taking... waves in the air? How would those still be- Zanzel shrugs her head with a sigh, not wanting to get more sidetracked in confusion of mortal imperfections than she already was. She moved her fingers to one of the buttons on top of the radio to turn it off-
-sounds of a turntable and a guitar in the background. A desk-bell's ring and then an "Order up!",
sounds of a turntable and a guitar in the background, a desk-bell's ring and then, " Order up!"
Zanzel blinked twice. What on Kathara was this music genre?
… riight, granted once again, Zanzel was only familiar with the flutes and the angklung of Cothran, but that was besides the point!
Shrugging, she pushed the button-
and a slot for a disc revealed itself.
Sighing once again, she pushed back the slot and pressed another-
only for the screen to change to... numbers?
Right, she may have not been the most expert in the realm of technologies, but surely those few years in Javion had to be worth something?
She pressed every protruding button she saw, and even twisted the two knobs on the front with as much force as she could, but the radio didn't turn off.
For brick's sake, fine! She pushed the thing away with frustrated disdain, retrieved the floating Alpha Brick to her side, and aiming straight for the plastic nuisance-
" -Flippin' and fryin' to keep myself from dying..."
"Flippin' and fryin' to keep yourself from dying!”
Zanzel paused, though the brick remained at ready.
...
Zanzel didn't notice her feet started to tap along to the rhythm.
Or at least, pretended not to.
"The grease keeps poppin', my grooves are non-stoppin!'"
"The grease keeps poppin', these grooves are non-stoppin!""
… oh bloxdamn it.
Zanzel pulled the Brick to her side once more and sat down, and enjoyed the music, as foreign it is.
This isn't sparing imperfection, it's not wasting energy on easy targets, Zanzel promised herself. This is only getting the earworm out of her system. Nothing else.
Crissbach huddled behind a stack of wooden crates. Peering just slightly above, he could see Celia and Barry doing the same thing.
They were foraging resources from a warehouse's ruin they found, when the unmistakable aura of the Priestess made itself known.
Footsteps slowly walked through the corridor, and Crissbach held his pistol at ready, silently praying that neither he nor his friends get caught.
...?
The footsteps coming their way were not the elegant, precise ones they expected from such a monster, but rather...
… to a beat? Almost dancelike as well…
But hold on, the aura was just getting more oppressive! Crissbach had to struggle to keep breathing!
The footsteps grew louder, and the room was silent.
Then the door slammed opened. The girl herself, currently in the frame if the sounds of her soles are anythi-
"Perfection? An art!"
Crissbach had to stop his jaw drop from hitting the floor lest it make a sound.
The same voice which just a few weeks ago boomed out across every street, road, and building to announce her new rule.
The same voice who's owner has just committed genocide across the city and beyond.
The same voice that summoned into the world abyssal beings.
...currently singing a song from Scratchin Melo-?
"This city? My canvas!"
Crissbach's train of thought was interrupted by a spectral green outline quickly phasing in on the crate just above him, lifting it up, startling the poor guy into alertness.
"Now, let's get to work, and see, if you can handle this!"
The priestess's singing turned to “ba-ba- ba!”- ing to the song’s tune as she left the room in disarray, with one final clap! sending every levitating object down with a loud crash.
David squeezed his chest.
...slowly, he stabilised his rapidly-easing breaths.
...
When the final traces of the aura faded away and David could breathe again, he peered over to his companions. They did the same.
They had the same looks of utter confusion as him.
.
.
.
at least she had good music taste?