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5/29/2025, 7:02:33 AM
>>6249831
She pushes forward a full page photograph toward the two of you. Fahy holds it up, squinting.
It's shockingly similar to the newest versions of the Undercroft suits they've been developing.
"I believe you're familiar with what the Old Oaks call Anima? You might have even seen it today, on Blythe's gun for example. It's an old tech that functions as a swarm of tiny machines, communicating and computing almost entirely through waves - we don't fully understand yet, but we have the capacity to program them. If what we found when we uncovered this facility is truthful, we held one such swarm programmed to simulate a brain scan of an old world banking family ogligarch. One Omer Rothschild."
A second sheet comes up for you to grab and examine, and Frejya's tits he is ugly. You heard stories of the fat pigs that used to exist back then, but not only was this pig fat, but he is also the crustiest thing human being you've ever seen. Bound to a wheel chair, hooked up to as much life support as Simo (who just today took several life-threatening injuries in the span of twenty seconds), and with half his face seemingly paralyzed, this picture depicts a man that should have died decades earlier and was kept alive by fell magic alone. You have half a mind to ask if this was the world's most cruel caricature painting of the man, because you cannot believe anything short of a troll could even look like that.
Katriina begins to speak as you absorb the image. "Omer Rothschild was a patriarch of the Rothschilds family toward the end of the Old World. Over the many years prior, the banking families of the world began acquiring the fleeting oil reserves by means of war or simply buying them out, transforming from the richest people on the planet to hyperbolically wealthy. And, at the age of 124, Omer had tried everything to extend his life to its fullest. Child blood and organ transfusions and medicines from poaching endangered animals are included in the crimes he committed to keep himself alive. The economic, political, and demographic devastation he, his forebears, and many ogligarchs like him in the many industries across the unified world at that time have wrought are beyond record, requiring Mother Nature's Providence centuries to begin undoing. When his body began irredeemably failing, he came to this 'clinic' in an attempt to... digitize his consciousness."
Both you and Fahy look up confused.
"It's been a thousand years since this happened. Ordinarily, it's of no consequence. We could just keep it sealed, unable to escape. Format the swarm, or bury it in a tube. But I would like to see how fruitful that procedure was."
She pushes forward a full page photograph toward the two of you. Fahy holds it up, squinting.
It's shockingly similar to the newest versions of the Undercroft suits they've been developing.
"I believe you're familiar with what the Old Oaks call Anima? You might have even seen it today, on Blythe's gun for example. It's an old tech that functions as a swarm of tiny machines, communicating and computing almost entirely through waves - we don't fully understand yet, but we have the capacity to program them. If what we found when we uncovered this facility is truthful, we held one such swarm programmed to simulate a brain scan of an old world banking family ogligarch. One Omer Rothschild."
A second sheet comes up for you to grab and examine, and Frejya's tits he is ugly. You heard stories of the fat pigs that used to exist back then, but not only was this pig fat, but he is also the crustiest thing human being you've ever seen. Bound to a wheel chair, hooked up to as much life support as Simo (who just today took several life-threatening injuries in the span of twenty seconds), and with half his face seemingly paralyzed, this picture depicts a man that should have died decades earlier and was kept alive by fell magic alone. You have half a mind to ask if this was the world's most cruel caricature painting of the man, because you cannot believe anything short of a troll could even look like that.
Katriina begins to speak as you absorb the image. "Omer Rothschild was a patriarch of the Rothschilds family toward the end of the Old World. Over the many years prior, the banking families of the world began acquiring the fleeting oil reserves by means of war or simply buying them out, transforming from the richest people on the planet to hyperbolically wealthy. And, at the age of 124, Omer had tried everything to extend his life to its fullest. Child blood and organ transfusions and medicines from poaching endangered animals are included in the crimes he committed to keep himself alive. The economic, political, and demographic devastation he, his forebears, and many ogligarchs like him in the many industries across the unified world at that time have wrought are beyond record, requiring Mother Nature's Providence centuries to begin undoing. When his body began irredeemably failing, he came to this 'clinic' in an attempt to... digitize his consciousness."
Both you and Fahy look up confused.
"It's been a thousand years since this happened. Ordinarily, it's of no consequence. We could just keep it sealed, unable to escape. Format the swarm, or bury it in a tube. But I would like to see how fruitful that procedure was."
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