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Bastilla Char Creepy 40k Ship Bastilla was shocked by the incoming coolant tank, and more shocked by the creepy fucking knight, who happened to have a shield of Bullshit™ that gave him a headache to look at. Suddenly, the Cultist was shouting orders, and before his headache had subsided and he had even a chance to react, Mr. Heaven's Gate shot ahead. It was all Bastilla could do to open up his mouth after not only the mental strain it took to try and guard his mind, but getting bumrushed by a Metal Douchebag in a suit of arm. "What in the- Wait- WHAT!?" Instinctively he aimed in the direction of the thing, and pulsed the Beam Rifle, a purple beam crackling through the air.

Bastilla Char Creepy Ship in the Desert Bastilla looked on his new partners with an odd sense of curiosity. It would take some time to adjust to all this, and he had hardly accepted that he was trapped in some new universe. Despite that, he stuck close to his companions, the Gaia Gear's arsenal ready and waiting for another horrifying creature to emerge. And then there was that twinkling light, whatever it might have been. His Newtype senses were blaring, telling him to run away, and to stay away from these strangers. But for once he had decided to ignore these instincts. He was someone who could help, and his Man-Machine was more than capable of dealing with Aliens, even if he had no clue what in the world(s) they were. Nothing is too strong for Gaia Gear and Bastilla. He led Metatron, an organization dedicated to saving the lives of those caught up in a mad war between Z and the MHA. This was... similar. If not similar then it was still something he felt he should be doing...

Akira Fudo Somewhere in the Alps "Anata ga tatakaitakunainara, anata no robo o chakuriku sa sete, watashi ni hito kara hito e atte kudasai!" (If you don't want to fight land your robo and meet me man to man!) His voice boomed. The power of authority, the feeling of confidence, and the overwhelming strength of will he once had. It all returned in an instant. He had lapsed into the old Akira, before, crying to himself. He let himself grieve for a moment, something he had not been able to do during the war nor during his eternity in Hell. But now was the time for power. For will. To enforce his flaming presence on the world and find Him once more. If God were so sick as to give him, the man with the body of a demon, a second chance... Then it was possible he had given his fallen angel a second chance as well. The man, or boy if his demeanor was anything to go by, seemed scared. He didn't blame him. The first time he had seen himself, the visage he took on in the form, he was...

Bastilla Char Unknown Desert He was taken aback by how calm the other Newtype was. And when he had joined in, killing the pitiful mass of flesh and eyes, it had reassured him somewhat. The cultist (he was still holding on to the fact that he was, even if more of what he said was starting to appear true) and his Man-Machine seemed formidable. Very heavily armed, and with weapons which he was not familiar. "What the shit? That was insane. That thing was- was crazy! Was that a frickin' alien? Ah man and we totally incinerated that thing, christ almighty." He used the back of his gloved hand to wipe a sheen of sweat that had formed on his face. He was dripping with it, due not only to the stress of the situation but the heat of the desert. He unzipped his airtight pilot suit letting it fall down to his sides. His undershirt was stained with grime. "I- Yeah. I think that was good enough proof to convince me something crazy is going on..." He clasped his hands behind his heads...

Bastilla Char Unknown Desert What was that freaky thing? His attention was pulled away from his newfound companions and onto the oozing lump of a creature that had just made itself known. An ooze of blackness with an unnecessary amount of eyes. Crawling, wheezing, mewing like to was begging them for something. And suddenly his Newtype Senses kicked into gear (or so he might think) and he felt a sudden pit form in his gut. This creature, as pathetic as it might have seemed, was a grave threat. The urge to destroy it rose up within him so powerful that he was taken aback. He has never reacted this way towards anything before, never had the urge to destroy so intense. But he always trusted his senses, his instinct. If it was telling him it was bad news he needed to act before the others got hurt. "WATCH OUT!" He shouted out, as Gaia Gear raised its Hyper Beam Rifle and opened fire, the purple burst of Minovsky Particles shooting into the black creature at blinding speeds. Over...

Bastilla Char Unknown Desert "Ahhhh, I think I figured you out. You're in a cult! Definitely a cult. Space cult? I digress. So you're telling me that I've been transported to another world with my Man-Machine? By some...otherworldly force? I'm having a hard time believing that if I'm being totally honest. And I wouldn't take you seriously if I didn't sense that you were a Newtype and that you didn't have some truth in there to back your claims. There is something wrong with that structure, I definitely feel that. Not sure what you mean by 'guard my mind' though. Let's say I believe you. Are there people in there that need help? I'll tag along, I guess, given that there doesn't seem to be anyone else in this desert. You might be nutty but company is company, I suppose." He wasn't sure that he actually believed everything that this cultist fellow was saying. But there was a concerning amount of truth in his words. He did wake up from a fight, in the desert, with no memory of...

Bastilla Char Unknown Desert Suddenly as he approached several communication signals lit up on his display. It seemed that the group he was approaching had detected him. That was good, Pilots rarely enjoyed being surprised. ...what? That might just be the weirdest thing anyone had ever said to him. Psycker Scion? Psykana? Abomination? Knight? Omnisaiiah? What the hell was this dude smoking? Despite his nonsense words, it was clear he was giving him a warning. A warning that his Newtype senses had validated when he initially saw the structure. And what did he mean by "unaffected survivors"? This was all extremely confusing. "Uh, what exactly the Hell are you talking about? I'm not a, what did you call me, a 'Scion'? Nothing you just said makes any sense. What in the world is an Omnisaiiah? Are you high, or just insane?" The second hail came in. This man was less insane than the last if that was any solace. So this was wreckage of some kind? He wouldn't have been able to tell...

Bastilla Char Unknown Desert A small warning light pulsed in the cockpit. Klaxons blared and Bastilla was shocked awake, lying facedown on the console in front of him. He looked around. Gaia Gear was lying face down. He looked behind him, and up into the sky, the 3d cockpit giving him a view of his Man-Machines surroundings. He found himself stranded in some sort of desert. How he had gotten there, he did not know. But that was something, it seemed, that he would need to figure out at a late. "What the hell..." The last thing he remembered he was fighting against the Man-Hunters near the moon. They tracked down Mother Metatron and were closing in for the kill. Bastilla had deployed to fend them off while the ship prepared to escape. He was cutting his way through their numbers and the MM was about ready to go when...it all went black, and he woke up here. Did he get shot down? And somehow survive not only re-entering the atmosphere but the impact of the crash? That didn't seem...

Lightning flashed above Akira setting warning alarms off in his head. He looked up to see a colossal metal figure looming over him. For a moment all he could do was stare. He had thought that the Getter Robo was massive, but this thing dwarfed it by several times. In a flash, he jumped back into the mecha, not even bothering to close the cockpit as he yanked on the sticks, doing his best to get it to move. But to his dismay it remained still, powered down and silent in the dirt. He had to make a quick decision or else he might die. The Getter Robo was out of commission and he could very well be dead in a moment. His mind flashed back to earlier in his life. Around twenty years ago, fighting against the she-bitch Sirene. Despite his strength, the fight had been close enough that it was unclear for the majority of the battle who would come out on top. When it seemed like he had won, and he had struck her down, she fused with her subordinate and redoubled her efforts. At that time he...

Akira Fudo Southern Alps, Austria He needed to stay calm. He needed to ignore the fact that he was in some hundred-ton robot hurtling through the air at Mach 2. Akira took a quick stock of the cockpit once more and gripped the control sticks. With a hefty grunt, he yanked them, and the Getter Robo pulled up. He slammed hard on the foot pedals and the thrusters burned with Getter Energy sending it shooting off faster than before. He carefully got the hang of controlling the machine while it flew. He did his best to avoid slamming down into the mountains, a task that was no simple feat as he had almost made contact with them several times. Now that he had a handle on the Mecha he was able to gently guide it down to the ground. Not onto its feet of course, but sliding into the dirt and coming to a complete stop at the foot of one of the mountains. Akira, now returned to his normal form, sat in the seat with sweat pouring down his face. There were far too many close calls just then...

Akira Fudo Unknown Cavern, somewhere beneath the Alps Hellfire. Pain. Death. Drenching himself in the blood of demons. A blur of hatred and violence. Moments of assumed respite interrupted by sudden death, resurrection, and more violence. An endless cycle of demonic slaughter and a peal of wicked laughter that could not have belonged to him. Suddenly there was darkness. Small rows of lights contrasted the inky blackness. Akira's eyes adjusted slowly, coming to find himself in a sort of cockpit. Where was he? His last memories were of the final battle. The Devilman Corps was annihilated. His death at Ryo...no, at Satan's hand. The taste of blood. A blur of rage, fire, pain, and violence. He had gone to Hell, he remembered that, but only vaguely. Like the memories were somehow locked just out of his mind's reach. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. All of his memories came rushing back. The demon invasion, Tare and Miki's deaths. The death of his subordinates in the...