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MAR Heaven ARM Fight Dream

Mär Heaven: Arm Fight Dream is a fighting video game developed by Alpha Unit and published by Konami and released on PlayStation 2 on November 3, 2005 in Japan. It is the second game based on the Mär Heaven series.

MAR Heaven ARM Fight Dream


Ginta Toramizu is a 14-year-old junior high student from Tokyo. He is a near-sighted, video game geek, underachieving student and a fan of fairy tales. One day and without warning, he finds himself summoned to the mysterious world of MÄR Heaven, which he has only seen before in his dreams and in his mother's books. In this fairy tale world, Ginta's physical weakness is replaced with superior physical strength, incredible stamina and endurance, being able to see without his glasses.

Set six years after the events of MÄR, the story follows Kai, the adoptive son of an ÄRM smith. Kai idolizes Ginta and dreams of having an ÄRM for himself, despite not having magic power. Kai, however, inherited a magic stone from his dead parents; a memento that suggests his family's relation to the sorcerer kingdom of Caldia, birthplace of all ÄRMs and magic users. At the time throughout MÄR-Heaven, a new type of ÄRM, known as "Fake ÄRM", which is activated without magic power, became highly used.

A group of Fake ÄRM users present themselves before Caldia to take Babbo back to Unwetter. Kai and crew are able to fight them back with the assistance of Inga, who is revealed to be a descendant of Unwetter. Following Caldia's law, they must seek Unwetter out and kill him. Kai, alongside Inga and Elise go on a journey to find Babbo's magic stones, which would restore his memories of the Grand Elder who fought the Fake Arms and Unwetter 300 years ago, and save MÄR Heaven.

At last he came out upon the top, and he looked about him. Far below rolled the white mist over the valleys of superstition, and above him towered the mountains. They had seemed low before; they were of an immeasurable height now, from crown to foundation surrounded by walls of rock, that rose tier above tier in mighty circles. Upon them played the eternal sunshine. He uttered a wild cry. He bowed himself on to the earth, and when he rose his face was white. In absolute silence he walked on. He was very silent now. In those high regions the rarefied air is hard to breathe by those born in the valleys; every breath he drew hurt him, and the blood oozed out from the tips of his fingers. Before the next wall of rock he began to work. The height of this seemed infinite, and he said nothing. The sound of his tool rang night and day upon the iron rocks into which he cut steps. Years passed over him, yet he worked on; but the wall towered up always above him to heaven. Sometimes he prayed that a little moss or lichen might spring up on those bare walls to be a companion to him; but it never came.

AS I travelled across an African plain the sun shone down hotly. Then I drew my horse up under a mimosa-tree, and I took the saddle from him and left him to feed among the parched bushes. And all to right and to left stretched the brown earth. And I sat down under the tree, because the heat beat fiercely, and all along the horizon the air throbbed. And after a while a heavy drowsiness came over me, and I laid my head down against my saddle, and I fell asleep there. And, in my sleep, I had a curious dream.

And I awoke: and all to the east and to the west stretched the barren earth, with the dry bushes on it. The ants ran up and down in the red sand, and the heat beat fiercely. I looked up through the thin branches of the tree at the blue sky overhead. I stretched myself, and I mused over the dream I had had. And I fell asleep again, with my head on my saddle. And in the fierce heat I had another dream.

I walked through the ruined Chapel, and looked at the Christ in red carrying his cross, and the Blessèd rubbed-out Bambino, and the Roman soldiers, and the folded hands, and the reed; and I went and sat down in the open porch upon a stone. At my feet was the small bay, with its white row of houses buried among the olive trees; the water broke in a long, thin, white line of foam along the shore; and I leaned my elbows on my knees. I was tired, very tired; tired with a tiredness that seemed older than the heat of the day and the shining of the sun on the bricks of the Roman road; and I lay my head upon my knees; I heard the breaking of the water on the rocks three hundred feet below, and the rustling of the wind among the olive trees and the ruined arches, and then I fell asleep there. I had a dream.

The blue, blue sky was over my head, and the waves were breaking below on the shore. I walked through the little chapel, and I saw the Madonna in blue and red, and the Christ carrying his cross, and the Roman soldiers with the rod, and the Blessèd Bambino with its broken face; and then I walked down the sloping rock to the brick pathway. The olive trees stood up on either side of the road, their black berries and pale-green leaves stood out against the sky; and the little ice-plants hung from the crevices in the stone wall. It seemed to me as if it must have rained while I was asleep. I thought I had never seen the heavens and the earth look so beautiful before. I walked down the road. The old, old, old tiredness was gone.

And we came where Hell opened into a plain, and a great house stood there. Marble pillars upheld the roof, and white marble steps let up to it. The wind of heaven blew through it. Only at the back hung a thick curtain. Fair men and women there feasted at long tables. They danced, and I saw the robes of women flutter in the air and heard the laugh of strong men. What they feasted with was wine; they drew it from large jars which stood somewhat in the background, and I saw the wine sparkle as they drew it.

And partly I awoke. It was still and dark; the sound of the carriages had died in the street; the woman who laughed was gone; and the policeman's tread was heard no more. In the dark it seemed as if a great hand lay upon my heart, and crushed it. I tried to breathe and tossed from side to side; and then again I fell asleep, and dreamed.

Mrs. Gaston had lived daily in a sort of trance throughthose four years of war, dreaming and planning for thegreat day when her lover would return a handsomebronzed and famous man. She had never conceived ofthe possibility of a world without his will and love tolean upon. The Preacher was both puzzled and alarmedby the strangely calm manner she now assumed. Beforeleaving the home he cautioned Aunt Eve to watch herMistress closely and send for him if anything happened.

Again she ignored his presence. She was back in theold days with her Love. She was kissing her hand to himas he left her for his day's work. Charlie looked at theclock. It was time to give her the soothing drops thedoctor left. She took it, obedient as a child, and wenton and on with interminable dreams of the past, nowand then uttering strange things for a boy's ears. Butso terrible was the anguish with which he watched her,the words made little impression on his mind. It seemedto him some one was strangling him to death, and agreat stone was piled on his little prostrate body.

But it was in his public prayers that he was at his best.Here all the wealth of tenderness of a great soul was laidbare. In these prayers he had the subtle genius thatcould find the way direct into the hearts of the peoplebefore him, realise as his own their sins and sorrows,their burdens and hopes and dreams and fears, and then,when he had made them his own, he could give themthe wings of deathless words and carry them up to theheart of God. He prayed in a low soft tone of voice; itwas like an honest earnest child pleading with his father.What a hush fell on the people when these prayers began!With what breathless suspense every earnest soul followedhim!

Of all the music he had ever heard, the boy thoughtNelse's banjo was the sweetest. He accompanied themusic in a deep bass voice which he kept soft and soothing.The boy sat entranced. With wide open eyes andhalf parted lips he dreamed his mother was well, andthen that he had grown to be a man, a great man, richand powerful. Now he was the Governor of the state,living in the Governor's palace, and his mother waspresiding at a banquet in his honour. He was bendingproudly over her and whispering to her that she was themost beautiful mother in the world. And he could hearher say with a smile,

The General bowed in closing to a round of applause.His soldiers were delighted with his speech and hisold slaves revelled in it with personal pride. But therank and file of the negroes were puzzled. He didnot preach the kind of doctrine they wished to hear. Theyhad hoped freedom meant eternal rest, not work. Theyhad dreamed of a life of ease with government rationsthree times a day, and old army clothes to last till theyput on the white robes above and struck their goldenharps in paradise. This message the General broughtwas painful to their newly awakened imaginations.

Then he was ready to die for her. It was the first kisshe had ever received from a woman's lips. His motherwas not a demonstrative woman. He never recalled akiss she had given him. His blood tingled with thedelicious sense of this one's sweetness. All the afternoonhe sat out under a tree and dreamed and watched thehouse where this wonderful thing had happened to him.

Our proud white aristocrats of the South are in apanic it seems. They fear the coming power of the Negro.They fear their Desdemonas may be fascinated again byan Othello! Well, Othello's day has come at last. Ifhe has dreamed dreams in the past his tongue dared notspeak, the day is fast coming when he will put thesedreams into deeds, not words.

Labour was not only demoralised, it had ceased to exist.Depression was universal, farming paralysed, investmentsdead, and all property insecure. Moral obligationswere dropping away from conduct, and a gulf as deep ashell and high as heaven opening between the two races. 041b061a72


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