Shattering Humanity-Chapter 145: Enter: MamMon DæMon (The Coupe of One)
["In the practical art of war, the best outcome, is to take the enemy’s territory whole and intact; to shatter and destroy is no good.So, too, it is better to recapture an army than destroy it..."-Sun Tzu]
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Woman’s Voice: *The glorious winning culture, set by the truest Norse warriors, the Jomsvikings. With countless, undocumented traveling tribes leaving Scandinavia, it was easy to propagate ’Vikings’ as an umbrella term, like ’Pirates’ or ’Terrorists’ of their era. But the 80 year span of the Golden Piracy Era, falls short in comparison to the 300 year reign of the Old Norse sailors and warriors.
The full blooded humans we live amongst are so easily scared and fully aware of their life’s fragility, they’ll culturally generalize each other as a fight or flight response. These imbeciles foolishly force themselves to connect the physical features and cultural patterns exhibited by one group of 20 people and think there is no difference between the next 20 individuals from the same generalized group.
Scared humans are the real bloodthirsty, unintelligent, irrational savages in the world.
The poorly thrown together tribes of dirty, selfish, undisciplined men, looking for anyone to accept them. They might have had the same skin pigment, eye colors, and believed the same stories of the Gods as the Jomsvikings, but were truly a disgrace compared to the legendary mercenaries and their tactical dominance. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞
Courage.
Honor.
Self Accountability.
Those men should have been the Yang parents of us DæMons, instead of the non-conforming Valkyrie tribe we were cursed with at birth. I refuse to believe the lies, that my Valkyrie mother and her clan were more responsible for the incredible prideful history of the Viking age cemented in an entire era of history.
It’s almost laughable in retrospect, seeing the obvious reason why the religious leaders of a pacifistic monotheism, focused mainly on the conversion of the Jomsvikings and not the ’dregs of the North’.
The Jomsvikings, like all elite mercenaries, usually fought for the highest bidder. Even if those paying for their violent services, in contradiction, followed ’non-active Yin monotheisms’.
To maintain the pacifistic integrity of what their entire ’forgiving faith’ was rooted in, the ’followers of Yin’ needed the ’followers of Yang’ not as a protective force but as a ’complimentary force’.
They ’recaptured an army, instead of destroying it’.
On the other end, knowing they lived full lives of "sin", and even if they were forgiven by the truest and most powerful ’Father’, those Northern men had willfully killed children for compensation. They truly didn’t want forgiveness.
The Yin theism encouraged the power of reading, similar from their story of Odin’s sacrifice, so if these ’followers of Yin’ were willing to provide a life for the followers of Yang, they accepted.
The Jomsvikings, also now in retrospect, played along with the baptism rituals of the growing Yin monotheism that rewarded them so handsomely and accepted them.
So with proper payment and a false promise of their desired afterlife with forgiveness, the ’followers of Yin’ had the, ’followers of Yang’, converted. Making the Crusades possible.
All because one theistic organization had enough resources and funds to hire the most dominant warriors from the most dominant era.
In turn, leading to the Valkyrie and Völva to make their decision. Creating my sisters and I.
Unfortunately for our mothers, the discovered purpose of the DæMon clan was perfectly parallel to the intended purpose for ’forgiving the converted, Joms’.
To spill the blood of all those who believed in a different prophet than the ’righteous theism’ who funded a Yang on Yang genocide."
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{Mount Nona.}
[Afternoon, the day Nephilim and his party of Tristan, Bethany, and Silpheed have gone to Roronora City to talk to Laban DaeMon.]
Within the busy hagglers market of Mount Nona, a flea market shopkeeper is approached by a mysterious individual. The customer is covered in a black cloak with ’Money Tree’ patterns.
Trees with ’blue and green leaves’ and gold coins that look like budding fruits.
Narrating Woman: *The ’Moral Law’ of a functioning society includes a willing submission towards a ruler, for peace and the chance for prosperity to the people, the ruling power provides the military around them.
When a single individual within society believes their own Moral Law is more important than the masses, it breaks the collective code, and that individual is appropriately arrested and punished by the same ruling power entrusted in the people’s safety.*
A hand with green painted fingernails, pops out from the long black sleeve with a rubber banded money stack of the Sister Mountain’s highest denomination of currency, and drops it on the counter.
Narrating Woman: *Over the course of generations, humans acquired and passed down more knowledge about the world they live in, but have become philosophically ignorant of the complimentary balance of the world they live in.
Only expecting the good and unappreciative of those moments.
While heavily acknowledging the bad.
If the punishments for crimes become too harsh or the acts leading to arrest are seen as too farfetched to be ignored by the Moral Law of the people, the collective will make enough noise to change the outdated Ruling Law.
However, if the Moral Law is broken by the decisions of a ruling power, or the Ruling Law never changes in reaction to the overwhelming Moral Law of the people, who do the tax payers have as an arbiter to apply an appropriate punishment for the ruler, who sees his or her own Moral Law more important than the masses?*
The shop owner picks up the stack, uses his thumb to quickly flick through it and then points the ’info buyer’ in a direction.
Woman’s Voice: *Most reliable spies aren’t actually spies at all, but any inhabitants of a territory who are willing to share information for ’employment wages’. Their Moral Law sees the trading of information worthy of payment, no matter what the paying customer does with said information.*
There is one HFF soldier standing in an alley by himself, until the individual in the ’money tree’ cloak appears.
Again a beautiful hand with green painted nails pops out from the dark robe. This time, a sack of gold is in the grasp. The soldier opens the sack and checks the contents.
Once satisfied, the soldier points for the buyer to continue down the alleyway, which they do while flipping a single coin.
Woman’s Voice: *Inward spies are nothing more than crooked cops and corrupt politicians. The right price will always supersede human loyalty towards one another. TRUE POWER is the ability to satisfy the needs of an army and convince them to die for more power, prestige, and rewards.*
From behind the weird stranger, the paid off soldier goes to reach for his radio but the sound of something slicing the wind is heard, and the soldier’s hand stops, just hovering above the walkie-talkie.
A blood covered gold coin hits the cement with a *TINK!*.
The HFF double agent, with a coin slot hole in his forehead, falls to the ground next to the circling currency. The cloaked killer has come back and takes the walkie talkie radio from his hip.
Woman’s Voice: *Converted enemy spies may be valuable, but having the enemy accidentally give up valuable information is just as effective, and comes with a good laugh.*
A smile is seen from the dark hood after talking into the communication device.From the end of the alley, one of the conversations between citizens can be heard close by, making the cloaked person hug the wall in hiding.
Female Citizen: "Ever since that terrorist attack, I just don’t feel comfortable around the patrolling soldiers with those dangerous weapons. Even if the officers on duty are only allowed to carry one on their person, it can still blow up and kill people close by."
Male Citizen: "You ain’t kidding, we should be able to carry our own self defense weapons, just in case. Luckily most of the insane savages are out quenching their bloodlust, fighting in Hell so us normal people can get out of here and live our lives again. With a military academy specifically taking in psychos willing to fight those monsters and orphans nobody cares about, is there any surprise one of those soldiers was an actual nutcase. I guess it’s just another waste of our taxes thanks to those bitch Sisters."
[The cryptic woman narrates the events leading up to the attack]
Woman’s Voice: [*While accidentally using Seiõr in front of one deranged individual, I turned it into a blessing. He was an unhappy soldier in this social civilization, who happened to be a very satanic man. He foolishly connected my existence to that of the ’fallen angels’ within Yin rooted theisms.
He asked me which ’demon’ I was. It took every bit of my tolerance, to not kill him there because of his ignorance.
We DæMons change our names so much that the sudden misunderstanding reminded me it was time for a new title. I told him the name of the most powerful of those weak creatures that he had mistaken me as.
For the cheap price of a false promise to grant his wish and send him to his pitiful envisioned after-life I received his full cooperation.I was able to ’employ’ that man, to bring violence to the innocent. Forcing more public attention, doubt, and murmurs towards their corrupt leaders. Also sparking fear in those current unfit rulers who believe they can truly ’out bid’ me for their survival. That worthless man, found worth, and died as an honorary ’Doomed Spy’ for a true entity of evil.
A DæMon.
The ’menacing message’ is directly to the current idiot leaders. Letting them know, they are on an inevitable time clock.*]
{The underground district of Mount Morta.}
The sound of high heels underneath the black cloak, *CLICK* *CLACK* *CLICK* *CLACK* on the reflective tile floor, echoes down a long dark empty hallway with florescent lighting.
Woman’s Voice: *Before this nuisance of an alien invasion, humans could only obtain ’war winning’ knowledge of the enemy’s disposition from other available humans.
Now there are disgusting, squid-like aliens that attach themselves to the eye of a host and give the feeble pure-blooded humans the ability to see Seiõr energy and aura, like us DæMons.*
A HFF soldier, with a right IceEye comes out from a room and gets surprised by the unauthorized visitor.
HFF Soldier: "Halt!...Freeze!...I- I’m warning you!..."
The man unsheathes his SunSword and rushes the intruder.
Woman’s Voice: *Feeble pure-humans like our ’Warrior half-Mothers’ who aren’t naturally accepted by Seiõr and have to meditate to create a useful SeiõrShield or have an allied Völva for support.*
As he swings down on the black cloaked individual, a hand covered in an orange SeiõrShield, pokes out from the sleeve, grabs the matching orange hot blade.
The man’s eyes widen to his horror.
Woman’s Voice: *The pure Völvas, our cowardly, magical half-mothers, ’fermented’ Seiõr and obtained ’SpacialSeiõr’ from the process. Past, present, and future, ’SpaceSeiõr’ can show the user visions of places and incidents when they were/are actually fated to happen.*
The woman’s hand that is covered in an orange Seiõr aura easily, with unimaginable power pushes the hot blade vertically through the man’s face. He never got to realize his disrespectful end. He falls to the ground, dead, his hair catching on fire from the blade.
The cloaked figure walks away down the hall as the rest of the man’s body ignites from his flaming hair.
Woman’s Voice: "There are various forms of Seiõr, that are the imposing byproducts of the most powerful, inconceivable form of energy within our universe. The Völvas, could foresee any dangers but had the arrogance to create us because the visions of Witch Hunts foreseen, over 400 years in advance. And the Valkyrie, who were too dumb and prideful, stayed separate from their male Viking counterparts. They also refused the SpacialSeiõr that would prevent their aging, offered by the Völva.
Their supposed ’battle experience only acquired by proven women of war’, with the option to live in their physical prime forever and protect their magical support counterparts should have been what those women planned.*
The cloaked rebel approaches familiar looking metal double doors. From the other side, the muffled discussion between the over confident Morta Sister and the drunk, scared Sister Nona can be heard.
Woman’s Voice: *Our mothers who cursed life to us DæMons, never needed to involve us at all.
I never needed to be born at all.
I didn’t ask to be born.
I didn’t want to be born in this ’reptilian complex’ of a world."
The intrusive DæMon pokes a sky blue Seiõr covered hand out from a sleeve, puts the hand inside the hood, to the ear, and stands with the other hand covered in a light blue Seiõr on the door.
Morta: "Nona, shut the fuck up, you sound like a complete pathetic little bitch right now.
We have security on lookout for anyone sketchy and suspicious.
We control an army.
We control an entire society of people with a law enforcement.
If the mountains are actually invaded, there is an army and society of people who they have to kill first. We’re safe and long gone before any of those Roronora savages get to us."
Woman’s Voice: *Roronora City. The city that is run by ’the sapling’, my most naive and embarrassingly weak, "Last Born" sister.
Not only did she allow herself to be host to one of those vial aliens, she took in a true virgin Völva and adopted a human child. Disgracefully gave her the DaeMon name, physically unable to give her the true ’ash’ of the clan she was cursed from and set as an example for us all.
Only the power of the Æsir and DæMons can hold the relic symbol.*
Nona: "No*hic* faauug you, M-Merrta!*hic* Cuzzzah your schemes we *hic* are now in danger of a *hic* revolt too!"
Woman’s Voice: *Weak humans, fortunate enough not to be born with the weight of expectations from their life bringers, but given easier lives instead, only focusing on the negatives they’ve been handed.*
The one hand leaves the dark hood and back to hiding in the cloak.
Cloaked Woman: "Gnyòja mundu grisir ef galtar hag vissi."
With the other hand on the metal double doors, the sky blue aura/energy turns to the orange Seiõr.
It begins to melt where the green fingernail painted hand touches. The hand spreads around the door and creates an opening. The cloaked smelter "deactivates" the Seiõr around their hand and calmly walks in, uninvited.
Without seeing what is going on in the room, from the hallway, the fated Sister and co-investor Morta can be heard.
Morta: "What the fuck?! Who are-?!"
A shot goes off from his gun.......
A feminine scream from Nona can be heard down the empty hallway.
{Back in Mount Nona’s Shopping District}
With an entire shopping district filled in a quiet, shocked attendance, the sounds of two men screaming in pure agony can be heard.
Almost like it was a silent parade, the Moral Law of the people within Mount Nona’s most active district, have paused what they were currently doing and moved off to the side.
Children and women in fear. Men swallow their spit. Their reptilian brain instinctively tells them who is in power here.
The adults watching wide-eyed as someone in a black cloak, with money tree patterns stitched on, have their hands up in front of them.
Two people, the last Sisters, are floating in front of the mysterious person, on fire, screaming.
Nobody, not even the on duty HFF soldiers try to intervene.
The successful coup of one, on the Sister Mountains has ended successfully with the public execution of the top. With Sister Decima killed by Nephilim, and the final screams leaving the fire filled lungs of Sister Morta and Sister Nona, the co-founders for the artificial mountains have been given judgement based on Moral Law.
The owners of a safe haven for over 150,000 survivors for 3 years in an apocalypse, killed for their egregious decisions and acts on the saved humans they took advantage of.
Cloaked DæMon: "Rejoice! People of these caged mountains!For this is your liberation!No longer will you be forced to live within these metal mountains. Over 150,000 of us have been lied to, and told to stay hidden, but salvation exists outside these mountains!Fear not, nothing will change as of now, but if you swear your loyalty to me, within 30 days we will all be under the actual sun again!I promise you protection and wealth that is equal to your contribution, but most importantly, you can leave these cages and find happiness again!
To conquer the land controlled by the opposition!What is the total worth of the life you leave behind after death!? That’s all that matters in this world!
Let everyone know, the Erinyes Revolution has begun and your new leader, is none other than I!
Your former ’Supreme Ultimate’ of HFF and now ’Supreme Leader’ of the Revolution...!"
The hood finally falls back, revealing golden blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that seem to create their own matching aura color, no alien symbiote.
MamMon DæMon: "...I am THE MamMon DæMon!" ________________________________
["In the practical art of war, the best outcome, is to take the enemy’s territory whole and intact; to shatter and destroy is no good.So, too, it is better to recapture an army than destroy it..."-Sun Tzu]
