View Full Version : Crimson Battlefield: World of Destiny
April 6th, 2005, 03:14 PM
Crimson Battlefield: World of Destiny
The morning sun rose, shining upon the changed Earth. Shadon, after the standoff with Atron, had calmed; the gods no longer at war. But damage still remained. Energy tendrils, backwash from the gods clashing attacks, that touched around the world. What they had encountered, was forever changed. Even the gods did not know all the repercussions they had wrought. Cratos stood on the edge of what he believed was the worst damage; the Bay of the Northeast. In what had once been the most populated area in the United States was now salt water. The number of lives that had been lost was staggering to the human mind, but Cratos felt sorrow for a different reason. Those were less lives to be watched. But he had made sure that some lives would be watched again. Cratos turned from the foggy bay, and walked away, disappearing as he went.
Scattered were the warriors that had been in New York. Spread around the world, each had an adventure ahead, and a destiny to fulfill.
Slowly, they began to become aware of there surroundings.
April 6th, 2005, 05:18 PM
Chapter One: Stirrings
In the Ural Mountains…
Atop a craggy peak, nestled in the lee of a large alcove, something moved. She had felt the unearthly presence upon the earth, as well with some changes. For the first time in ages, she awakened. Her eyes opened, taking in her surroundings as she rose to her feet. Knowing that something would now have to be done, she readied herself to leave her home. Letting out her call that echoed throughout the mountains, she took off, searching.
At an undisclosed location…
In a dark room, two figures sat, with one leaning on the table, hands clasped. Only those hands were in the light, with the rest of that figure and all of the other surrounded by the shadows.
“Much has changed in the past few days. But they have not gone out of control, or out of our plans.”
“I doubt that that is even possible. The plans we have made simply can’t be broken. They are a natural law, simple as one lives until death.”
“True,” said the figure, chuckling. “However, one has been found that would help the cause and make an addition to our cause.”
“I know. Send one to recruit this warrior. It would accelerate the events, by how much?” asked the figure of another, who stood by a wall.
“Undeterminable with present variables, but the acceleration is there.”
“The exact amount is relatively unimportant. It is YOUR task to find the warrior and bring it to our ranks. Go. Now.” said the first figure.
The third figure left immediately, heading off towards its goal.
Deep in the pits of Hell…
One lone walking figure stalked a tunnel of fire, thinking.
She survived. What a pity. It would have been so easy, so clean. But, on the other hand, so boring. Mere mortals, I could care less about. To their deaths I am indifferent. But her… Her, I despise with a passion otherwise unknown to me. I.. want? To be the one to personally destroy her. Want. So foreign I barely understand the concept. It is so mortal. But her days are numbered as well. The death of those millions will provide fuel for a battle to come…
Halting the pacing, the figure, turned, and began to move among the souls of the perished, searching for those that would serve best.
In Beijing, China…
Beneath the communists nation, a large beast smiled. It could feel the seal growing weak after millennia of fortitude. Trying to hurry the process, it fought against its binds. The thought of the taste of innocent’s blood danced upon its mind. For that taste, for that pleasure, more the beast struggled.
An ancient seal, created long before memory, had been weakened by one of the energy tendrils, the power of the gods. A small, hairline crack formed beneath the streets of Beijing.
One creature went through the nothing. It headed the call of its master, like it always had for eons. Whatever the objective, it was fulfilled with speed and precision. Now, the journey led to earth, its objective, vague. But any objective was one to be taken seriously, least failure and punishment. It was with the cringe at fear of punishment that the creature entered earth’s atmosphere.
April 11th, 2005, 09:15 PM
Chapter Two: One Group’s Journey Begins
On the shores of the Caspian Sea…
Deep blue waves lapped against the course sand that covered the beach. In the early morning sun, the early birds sang their songs, which rang across the water. A few seagulls shrieked as they hunted for an early morning feast on their swimming prey. One unlucky gull managed to catch one small fish, but before it could enjoy its meal, its compatriots formed a fowl mob. Beating the smaller, younger bird with their wings, the fish fell from its jaw. Only one other noticed it, catching it before it re-entered its home. Soon, the young gull fell as well, broken by its brothers in the frenzy for a morning meal. The lucky one swallowed in peace.
Their seemingly easy meal now gone, the seagulls quickly dispersed. One landed on the sand, looking for fish carcasses. Seeing some forms further down, the seagull gave its wings a few good flaps, making good time to its targets. Landing on one of the forms, the gull pecked at what it hoped was flesh. Seeing the redness of blood well up, the gull began to peck again, hoping to get a good grip on the meat of this carcass. However, it had not noticed that its small cry’s of feeding ecstasy had disturbed another form. The head turned, muffling a yawn. Finally seeing the gorging bird, the figure lazily raised a gun. The seagull never managed to finish its meal, falling to the ground headless, spine severed by a bullet. The thunder clanged across the landscape long after the decapitated form lay still.
The discharge from the weapon jolted a third figure awake, jerking into an “up” position. The gun quickly swung around, now aimed at the alert and confused person. The person’s head looked around, trying to figure out where “here” was. Until eyes were laid on the gun, at which point the third person became very still. Until the gun handler let out a hearty chuckle.
“Don’t worry. I won’t shoot you unless you try eating any of me,” said the figure holding the gun. The name is Dallas Stryker. But I’ve met you before haven’t I?”
“ Yes. I believe we fought.” answered Sef, still looking nervous.
“Normally then I would shoot you right here, but I think that might just wait on that.” said Dallas, just now looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Defiantly unfamiliar. The Caspian Sea stretched beyond the horizon. Around them was what could only be called pure desolation. There were a few clouds in the sky, leaving what would become the glaring sun free reign on the earth. Sparse trees would provide little shade and relief from the coming heat. In the distance, the buttes and hills could be seen. It would be a long walk to….. somewhere.
Standing, Stryker looked down at Sef, and extended a hand to help the aged wizard get to his feet. Glaring at the help, Sef reluctantly took the hand and using his staff stood up. In his mind, Sef wanted to attack this Dallas Stryker right now, but decided it would not be in his best interest. He imagined that the journey to civilization would be a long one. Help, even unwanted help, would be needed. Suddenly remembering that something was missing, Sef quickly looked around, searching.
“Duisternis! DUISTERNIS!” Sef yelled out, calling his dragon. He received no reply. Even the mental link was disintegrated. “DUISTER…”
That was all that Sef managed to get out as the warrior that had previously been unconscious left that state. Dante Enkoro had gotten to his feet and smacked the blindside of Sef’s head.
“Would you SHUT-UP already?!” he mumbled, eyes trying to open.
As Sef whipped around and prepared to attack this fighter, but Stryker quickly grabbed his arm.
“No need to start anything. I doubt he knows he even hit you.” Dallas said, keeping Sef restrained.
Slowly the anger left Sef’s eyes as he watched Dante slowly come into full consciousness. His vision became more focused, and he was finally able to make out two figures standing in front of him.
“Aha! Two warriors decided to team up and fight me I see. Now taste my bla…” said Dante, brandishing his swords.
“Now, no one is teaming up and fighting anybody. You just settle down right now, or their will be a fight. But before you decide your next action, would you look around first?” said Dallas, not really wanting to fight before breakfast.
Refusing to move from his fighting stance, Dante moved his eyes, taking in what was around him. He hated to admit it, but fighting then having to travel in a desert wouldn’t be the brightest thing to do. There was...nothing. Deciding that perhaps a show of friendship would get him farther than hostility, Dante moved out of his position, taking on a more relaxed stance.
“Alright. The name is Dante Enkoro.”
It was about this time that Dante noticed that he was bleeding on his check and neck.
“What the h…” said Dante, rubbing his neck and looking at the bloody hand.
“Before you jump to conclusions, that dead bird right over there did that, not one of us. So don’t you go thinking that we decided to take a piece out of you.” said Dallas quite speedily.
Sef, at the mention of the bird, noticed that he was actually hungry. Turning toward the dead carcass, he moved toward it. Pointing his staff at the ground, he created a small fire that feed off the earth.
“Do you two mind if I cook this?” asked Sef.
“Only if you share.” said Dallas.
“You mean THAT thing tried to eat me?!”
*After a good, but small, breakfast*
The three warriors sat by the burning fire, less hungry than before. The bones from the gull now lay strewn on the dirt. Dante had gotten over his initial uneasiness, though he was still slightly wary. Sef felt more relaxed than Dante, but was now worried what had become of his friend and partner Duisternis. Dallas was only thinking about the road ahead, as they had no clue as to where they were. But the three of them had come to accept the fact that they were stuck together.
“Well, where exactly are we going to go?” asked Dante.
“Somewhere. Their must be some sort of civilization out here.” said Sef.
“Which ever direction we chose, it must be along the coastline. Which way, right or left?” asked Dallas.
“Well, I could say straight ahead, but that wouldn’t be any better.” Dallas chuckled. “But left looks like better traveling. Let’s go.”
Standing up, the three fighters began to walk along the sandy beach, not fully knowing what the path ahead held.
Deep in the Amazon rainforest…
With a low rumble, rain fell from the sky, drenching the upper canopy. Through the network of leaves and vines, the water trickled down. But in one clearing, the rain met no resistance, striking the stone covered ground. Except in one spot, where the stone was covered by a body, and the drops streaked down the warriors face…
May 2nd, 2005, 09:36 PM
Chapter 3: Ruler of the Amazon
Slowly the rain began to transform into a light mist, the dark clouds hovering, but no longer filled with the sky’s tears. The form on the stones had moved slightly, now lying on its back. The warrior’s chest moved slowly up and down, the only sign of life that could be deemed. But it was the presence of the figure that caused the stirrings in the surrounding forest, and in the temple pyramid at which the warrior lay.
Within that massive pyramid splotched with growing moss, through the mazes and deadly traps, there was a massive chamber. Had there been any light, it would have blazed like the noon sun, as every available space was covered in gold. The columns at the sides of the room, the floor (in which intricate designs had been carved), the ceiling, and the large throne that was the most prominent object in the room. But there was one item that had no gold and was bare, rough stone. The presence of the awaited stirred the mystic life inside of it, and slowly its eyes opened for the first time in centuries.
Whispers swept through the forest, reaching seemingly deaf ears, almost like words floated on the breeze. The mute spoke to their brethren. Could it really be?
With a moan, the warrior slowly sat up. Maggie brought one green hand up to her forehead, feeling slightly dizzy. Opening her eyes, she looked around her in wonderment. Where was she? Last thing she remembered was being in a Wal*Mart when two dragons had attacked, and one had attacked her… Now she was here, in a rainforest somewhere. Rising to her feet, she didn’t last there long as she fell backwards, finding herself again sitting on the rock. Focusing herself, she stood, her arms out to balance her. This time she stayed, as she turned around. Her head angling up she looked at the immense temple. She gasped at its size, but that turned to a scream when her eyes went to a tunnel that led inside.
Movement had been foreign for so long, it took some time to become accustomed to it again. Making its way through the mazes and around the traps, the object had almost made it to the outside. Light reached its eyes, something it had not seen in a great time. The purpose for its trek was outside the tunnel. Changing course towards it, the sound wave from a scream bounced off its body, which it interpreted as sound. It logged this as unusual but continued.
A scream? Only the dying scream! Had they been mistaken? No! They couldn’t be. They had waited so long. This was the closest they had been. It must be. The travelers had heard stories of death on the wind. The time must be now, said the breeze. All mirrored the conversation, as ears leaned towards each other, each trying to hear what the breeze would carry.
Maggie backed away from the, the , the THING that came out of the tunnel and down a short flight of stone stairs. Here she was in a weird place, and this thing was walking towards her. Its arm rose, like it intended to grab her. Calming herself, she tried to remain in control. Thinking, she spat a glob of acidic salvia at this thing. Landing on its head (which she smiled at, admiring her accuracy), she could see it sizzle. The thing stopped, its arms going to its side. She had stopped it! Served that thing right, messing with her. Though, that when she noticed its arms moving again.
It worked to register what was covering its eyes. It registered an acidic sensation. Why she would do that he at the moment could not venture, but he wiped the acid off, any damage healed. Its vision cleared and it could see horror registered on its objectives’ face. Filing this curiosity away for later, it continued.
Maggie didn’t know what to do. The thing had ignored the acid on its face, and it hadn’t done anything! She began to back up, recoiling from the outstretched limbs. Reaching a decision, she turned and bolted for the cover of the forest. She felt that she would have a better chance in there. She pushed aside the brush as she exited the perimeter of the clearing. Running as fast as her sleek legs could carry her, she leaped over roots of the towering trees. However, the multitude of them were to many to avoid, causing her to trip, skidding to stop, her front covered in dead leaves and compost. She looked behind her, and to her relief she didn’t see her pursuer. Maybe the thing had stopped. At that moment, she noticed that the sound of the forest had stopped, creating an eerie silence. Slowly, she looked up, and saw that she had been surrounded.
It WAS true! There she was! They had been graced by her presence. What an honor! Few had such the pleasure in their lifetime! Generations had passed since it had been bestowed. Oh, she looked at me! And at me! And me! And me! And me! And m…
Maggie spun around, looking up at the trees, filled to the brim with wildlife. One creature, a small young monkey, to young to know what exactly it was in the vision of, crept closer, to the horror of those surrounding. But of this revulsion of such boldness Maggie was unaware as she looked at the small monkey, which came even closer. Maggie forgot where she was as she looked at the creature. It was so cute! Carefully, she bent down and pet it. She quickly jerked her hand back as a thunderous howl echoed around her and spread throughout the jungle, till the area shook with the cries from the animal throats.
IT WAS HER! SHE HAS RETURNED! REJOICE, FOR THE GOOD TIME HAS COME! SHE IS HERE!
Sound waves bounced off every side of its skin, signifying the loudness of the jungle. She has been found. They had a right to be excited he concluded. A long time the forest waited. No longer. It now stepped back, and knew she would come back. The inevitable could not be avoided.
Maggie, clasped her hands over her ears trying to block out the noise unsuccessfully. The monkeys that had occupied the trees jumped down, bouncing all around her. Quickly becoming frightened, she saw how exposed she was. She felt tiny paws grasp at her, and she leaned away, but soon she found she could not. The primates swarmed her, she threw some of them off, but they were everywhere! For every one she tossed, three more grabbed hold. She became hysteric, tossing about, losing her capacity to think clearly. If she had, she would have used more acid spit, but that was the farthest thing from her mind. If she had been, it was too late, as she became covered with the primates. However, Maggie didn’t stay that way as she bobbed to the surface of the ocean of fur, tens of little paws holding her up. She noticed that the trees were passing her by, her body being passed from paw to paw, moving her along the ocean like a surfboard. She tried to move, but found she couldn’t resist the primates below her. She couldn’t even grasp her bearings as she moved along, not being used to the jungle. So, along she moved, forced to be moved along against her will.
It awaited her presence once again. By the chatter emanating form the jungle, it knew that she moved closer. Sure enough, the jungle life began to pour into the cleared area around the temple pyramid. It walked up and into the tunnel, giving the creatures more room. Soon, the area filled with an abundance of wildlife: cats, snakes, primates and birds. Even gigantic butterflies filled the air, creating an allusion of flying flower petals. Faintly a yelling could be heard over the jubilation. Most likely it was something along the lines of “Put me down”, but no one will ever be certain. Maggie came into the clearing, still being passed along by the monkeys, which took up the area in front of the stairs leading to the tunnel. Softly, they deposited her in front of the stairs. A mumbled chatter still moved along the mass.
The jungle fell quiet, nary a leaf seemed to rustle. The eyes of the living all turned toward the thing and Maggie. Speaking of Maggie, she was quite shocked. She didn’t know where that had come from, but she had to guess that it was from the thing. Even she had become silent at the command and looked up at the thing. It looked down at her, then back at the crowd. She felt that something concerning her was about to happen. The thing raised its arms, like an orator about to speak.
“Creatures of the great jungle! You all know why we are here, and what great event has happened! Foretold many cycles ago, by the leaders and rulers of this place, before the Pale took them all. You have waited, and died, telling your offspring of a coming and the prosperity that would happen. Slowly, those changed by the Pale have infringed, harming and destroying. But at long last, no more. NO MORE! It has passed, it is true. Our ruler has appeared. One to lead, one to protect, one to cherish. Our ruler, the new Queen of the Amazon, the Great Jungle. Ruler, we bow and serve.”
The stone golem fell to one knee, bowing his head towards Maggie. Bewildered, Maggie spun around. In a wave, the creatures bowed, with even the snakes, pushing their heads down lower. The petals landed on her head, making a circle of blue.
“Wha, wha, what?! Me? Ruler? You, you must be mistaken! I am just Maggie. Little ole Magg-”
“You are our leader. You are Queen…Maggie,” said the golem. “Come and claim your throne.”
Maggie thought that that was crazy! Her? A queen. No. She had to get away from there. She wasn’t going to claim any throne. When she thought that, she realized that she seemed to be moving. Thinking about the monkeys, she looked behind. And realized that she walked under her own power. Following the golem, torches along the walls lit as they walked, though Maggie didn’t remember the golem lighting any of them. Soon, they came to one large room. The golem walked on into the dark, but Maggie stood on the edge of the light not going further. Squinting, she peered into the darkness to try to see the golem. Suddenly, the room exploded into light. Her eyes slammed shut against the bright light, though she forced them open after a few seconds. Before her, was a sight unseen for centuries, The Chamber of Gold. Light was no longer a problem as Maggie opened her eyes wide to take in the glory of the room.
“What if this place? How much gold is this? No, who’s-” she stammered.
“This is your throne, your possessions. All we have, is yours.”
Her eyes made it to the throne, an elaborate seat on top of a small flight of chairs and landing. Walking up the stairs, tenderly she sat into the seat. She rubbed the arms of it, almost absorbing the gold through her skin. She was the Queen of the Amazon.
One load peal of sound ripped through the air from the creatures outside, all making a sound anyway they could, celebrating the moment. Their ruler had arrived.
In injured America…
News reels rolled, spreading the horrendous news. One warrior knew the destruction. He had seen it. Been commanded by it. But that was not worrying. Others were capable of handling it. But he had seen a greater enemy. A foe from ago, and it brought devastating news. The others must know about it, before it will be too late. Or it will have been better if all of America had been destroyed.
June 2nd, 2005, 02:50 PM
Chapter Four: Rumblings of Clashings
Even as Dr. David Liberian moved away from the television set, he began to go through a list in his mind. He would need to contact the others, to let them know that the Syndicate appeared to be back in business. Quickly, he thanked what ever force put him here in the old headquarters. They were going to need it pretty soon.
Somewhere in Europe…
Energion walked down the metal hall, his boots clacking with every step. His journey across the Atlantic had been most successful. He had fought some of the strongest warriors, and now had an idea of their numbers. Now, as he opened the doors of the meeting room with his mind, the rest of the Syndicate would know what task lay before them.
Making his way to the head to the table , Energion began to address the members of the Syndicate sitting around the table.
“We meet here today to discuss new plans to serve our purpose. I am sure that you have heard that most of the Northeastern United States has been, lets say, cleansed from the earth. However, I doubt that many, if any at all, of our enemies died in the event.”
“What a shame,” wisecracked one of the persons at the table, a small gelous figure named CELL.
“Yes, but I have something new. The Elite are alive,” said Energion, continuing.
“The Elites! There here!” cried out one of the members, Reiley.
“Not those Elite, he means the American Elite,” said Venorine, rolling his eyes.
“Anyways,” said Energion, trying to finish, “ it appears that they weren’t destroyed during our last, lets say, ploy. One of them, Dr. David Liberian, was in New York City, and I believe he saw me. We can only surmise that now that both factions know of the others existence. That is why we must come up with some new plans to deal with them. The world is in chaos, and now we can strike anywhere without fear of human retaliation.”
“Where will we attack first?” asked the youngest figure, Morteki.
“The place where they are strongest so they won’t be stronger there later,” said the quiet one out of the bunch, “Iron Fist” Mikey.
“But if we attack where they are weak, then they shouldn’t be able to become stronger later and it will be the same,” said the gel.
“Then those are the two options we have,” said Energion, raising his voice so discussion would soften. “We either attack where they are weakest first, or the strongest. Think about the choices. Now, who says we attack the strongest place first….”
In the American Elite HQ…
Dr. David paced in the large room, waiting for the others to appear. Thankfully, he had found, the transporter system still worked. Suddenly, and telltale sound of something akin to chimes filled the air, signaling the appearance of the first to respond to his call.
“Doctor, what’s all this fuss about? I was off enjoying myself when I got your call,” said the newly arrived, Tyfoon.
“I summoned you because we have a problem bigger and more important than you having a good time somewhere.”
The chime sound again filled the air, and a strong looking African-American stepped off the platform.
“Dr. Liberian! Good to see you again,” said Rueben Jacobs, pumping the doctor’s hand. “It must be some trouble for you to call me up, but I don’t want to hear it now. Is the fridge still stocked? I’m starving.”
“I don’t know. Go check. And please, just call me Dr. David.”
“I’m going with him,” said Tyfoon. “I’m starved. You called before my meal arrived at my table.”
Dr. David shook his head as he waited for the next arrival. The next to appear was Xoch, from out west.
“Why, the place looks more like a dump then I remember it. Have you been decorating doctor?”
“No Xoch. I haven’t.”
“Good, that means I get too. First off, my backpack would look great on the floor over there,” said Xoch as he tossed his possession onto the floor as he made his way over to the chair. “Hey, where’s the remote for the TV?”
“If you can find it, you can use it,” replied the doctor.
Turning around to wait for the last person to arrive, Dr. David almost ran into Gzilla04 (who most people just called Gilla, to which Gzilla04 took to as a joke). The chained warrior looked up at the doctor, a smile on his face.
“Having trouble seeing today?” asked Gzilla04.
“No, its just been and going to be a long day Gilla. At least now everyone is here.”
Making his way to the front of the room, Dr. David looked around at the people present. Rueben was sitting on the couch with a mountain of food, from which Tyfoon was trying to pilfer, with little success. Xoch sat in a large chair, digging in the area around it for a remote. Gzilla04 took a seat in another chair. Seeing that finally all were present, he began to speak.
“Members of the Elite, it is with a dark impending future that I speak to you today. I have seen grave evidence that our sworn enemies, the European Syndicate, are still operational.
“Wait. Didn’t we destroy them when they last tried to attack us?” asked Rueben, swallowing a mouthful before he spoke.
“We thought so, but I have seen their ringleader, Energion. I can only then surmise that the rest of the Syndicate survived as well. And now, the country is weakened because of the incident in the Northeast. They will attack. Most likely they will try to kill us first in order to have free reign in their take over. We must be prepared.”
“Well, does this places defenses still work?” asked Xoch.
“They might, but as what happened last time, I doubt that they will be any more affective. Thus, it will be a fight between us with no help from anyone,” answered Dr. David.
“So be it, let them come. We will defeat them again,” said Gzilla04, brandishing his sword.
“Yeah, but we almost died defeating them last time and almost lost anyway. That’s not exactly the description of a good time,” stated Tyfoon.
“Live or die, we must be ready,” said Dr. David solemnly.
“Then why are we sitting here for?! We better get this place into running condition if we are going to have a fight on our hands. They might beat these defenses, but it will still be a distraction. Let’s get to it!” said Rueben, jumping to his feet, having finished his meal.
As they all began to work on what needed to be done, Xoch muttered “Must we be so chipper about work?”
In the European Syndicate’s home base…
“Well, now we know our next course of action. Will you all be ready when the signal is given?” asked Energion.
Positive replies were all given, each warrior knew what they would need to do.
“Then this meeting is adjourned. I assume you all know and have ways to get to your positions?”
Again, positives replies as they filed out of the room, each heading towards America and their target. Finding himself now alone, Energion began to laugh, knowing that his old enemies would soon be crushed and soon, his mass extermination would be complete. He still chuckled as he left the room, his boots clicking on the metal floor. The doors closed behind him, heavier than any that could be opened by a mere human.
Walking outside, Energion took flight, heading towards America.
“I saw you Dr. David Liberian. I know you are alive, and I will soon put an end to that.”
The cool Canadian breeze swept over the ground, rustling dead leaves as it went. Moving a warriors clothes, the movement awakened the figure. With a groan, a hand went up to the persons head, rubbing a very sore spot.
“Where am I?” asked the Crimson Warrior.
“If that’s a sword kid, you might as well be in hell.”
July 5th, 2005, 02:46 PM
Chapter Five: This is Hell?
Dante Enkoro stood, keeping a sharp eye on this figure who had threatened him. Or, had at least sounded like he had threatened him. Sound… that voice!, Dante thought to himself. He recognized that voice from somewhere. But the figure stood with his back to the light of the setting sun. This created an outlining aurora that Dante’s eyes could not penetrate.
“If that be true, than you must be the satanic ruler of this pitiful damnation. Step forward you coward and reveal yourself to me!” Dante demanded.
This command only elected a chuckle from the figure, who only let his head list to one side. “You forget that I can see you plainly and I know who you are. Time may have changed you, but never could it disguise,” was the figures reply. “But, I suppose you deserve to recognize some, especially one person from long ago.” With that utterance, Demon Eyes Parker stepped forth, causing Dante’s eyes to widen as he learned the figures identity.
“Parker? Is that you?” Dante asked, stunned.
“No. It’s not, you are just imagining me. You should teach your mind to not be so harsh in dialogue.”
“It must be you, as only Parker could be so jovial as he insults.”
“So true,” said Parker as he held out his hand. “My first instinct was to fight you, but a piece of conversation with another fighter would do me good. No matter how bad the fighter might be.”
Dante shook Parker’s hand tightly as the last insult was given. Normally, such insolence towards him would have demanded retribution, but to be able to speak with another Roost Fighter was not a chance he had had often. In fact, never had he meet a fellow Fighter in this dimension.
Parker led Dante to his house, offering Dante lodging for the night. As the two walked, the shared small talk, mainly concerning the explosion that had occurred in the United States. Parker offered his theory that some idiot set off a humongous nuclear explosion, while Dante thought it was an unknown weapon. By this time, they had reached Parker’s house. Leading the way inside, Parker flopped down on a worn brown couch. He offered Dante a seat in a beaten gray recliner.
At Parker’s request, Dante told his tale of what had become of him since the last days. Dante spoke of being transported to Kevo, how he lost his wife. The meeting of a warrior named Magnus, and a group called the Elites. That statement caused Parker’s eyebrows to raise, but Dante missed the expression. Of joining Lord Darren, and the battles with Apus Histori. Then of his transportation here.
Suddenly, as if lightning had stuck, Dante leapt to his feet. “My wife!” he yelled. “I can finally see her again! I always believed that this was another dimension, as I could find no Roost Fighters. But here you are! She must be on Earth. I can finally hold her in my arms again, to caress her, to feel her frame….”
Dante started as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He had lost himself in the moment, not seeing that Parker was now standing besides him. The expression on Parker’s face was rare, one of knowing sympathy. “Sit down. I have a story to tell.”
“Dante, I must tell you, your wife isn’t here….” Parker spoke until he was interrupted.
“Not here! She’s dead! No, I have traveled so far only to be defeated by death’s door once again…” Dante wept, his emotional high shattered.
“No you fool, listen! She’s not dead, she isn’t here! This IS a different dimension. I traveled here through a portal. This isn’t my true home either, but I have adapted. My wife is still lost to me. Dante, control yourself!”
Dante did stop the tears, getting a handle on his raging emotions. He kept telling himself that he would get to his wife again. He would not fail.
The two warriors walked to the kitchen of the house, with Parker throwing together some foodstuffs. However he did not finish before something caught his eyes. A figure hid across the street in bushes, and was looking straight in the window. Parker’s eyes grew dark as he rushed outside to get a better look at the figure. The figure suddenly found itself discovered, and took flight, running with great speed. Dante came out of the house, looking as Parker took off after the fleeing figure. He quickly took up the chase.
Parker easily made up the lost ground, his amazing speed serving him well. But as the figure turned and saw Parker catching up, the cloak that it had been wearing came off, revealing two great wings. The figure took to the air, escaping Parker’s reach. The disguise gone, he recognized his foe. “STORMFURRRYYYY!!!” he yelled out as the figure escaped him.
By this time, Dante had managed to catch up to Parker, though he was slightly winded. He looked up at the escaping figure.
“Who was that?” asked Dante, catching his breath.
“The thorn in my side during my days here. Stormfury Starblaze, formerly Kaisa Kokkola. Once I defeated her in battle, earning her scorn.”
“If you defeated her, what’s the problem?”
“The problem? She died by my hands, but still breathes. Now she haunts me, her enemy till my death. But she has fled, not wanting to fight today. So be it, my sleep calls me.”
“I guess when you look like that, beauty sleep IS pretty important.” Dante smirked.
“Ah, I seem to be influencing you. It has been too long since someone challenged my wit.”
Thus, the two warriors traveled back to the house. The two exchanged insults, comebacks and quips, each sharpening their wit. Dante took Parker up on his offering of lodge. Dante prepared for sleep, lying on the couch. Dante found that it was sufficient, and soon fell into the grasp of sleep.
Parker, however, had more on his mind. As he stood shirtless by his window, the moonlight played upon his body. In this white light his scar became pronounced, a glaring reminder to the past. The past dogged him to his day. Stormfury lurked out there, he knew. She constantly was after him, though rarely would she allow herself to get into a fight. Her pacifist nature allowed her to buzz around him like a horsefly, annoying and only biting when one is foolish enough to let it land. Parker clenched his fist in growing rage; he killed her once and he would kill her again, and a million more times. It took all his will power not to yell out a challenge that he knew would reach listening ears.
In fact, the yell wouldn’t have taken that long to reach Stormfury Starblaze. From her location she looked at Parker, leaning out his open window. She smiled as she saw the rage on his face. It was that rage that caused her to hunt him, to trail him. If there was to ever be a peaceful world, it would be a Parker-less one. Even in death, others shared that dream. When she had died by his hands, she was meet by gods. One, who called himself Cratos, had talked to her about her ideas. Of the peaceful world possible. He (or at least she thought of him as he) had revitalized her frame, her dream. Entering back to the mortal realm she received a second chance. That chance consisted of destroying Parker. The smile never left her lips as she flew off from on top of Parker’s residence.
Parker stayed at his window a little longer. He had been sure of the beating of wings at one point, but as he had seen nothing, he passed it off as an owl. Eventually, he went to bed, and passing into the dream realm. He was able to dream of his wife, and friends, and of glorious times. However, another was in a different realm….
Dante awoke, looking at the room around him. He easily saw that he was no longer in Parker’s house. Everything seemed familiar. Then, as he saw swords on the wall, he remembered the room. His home! His bedroom, in his house! And he stood up, the smells of breakfast reached his nostrils, which flared as they absorbed the small of frying bacon. His wife, he would finally see his wife after all the time past. Running to the kitchen, he stopped as he saw her. She was wearing the same red sweater as she had had the last time he had seen her. Her name fell from his lips in a whispers; “Ashley”. At the name, the red-headed woman turned. The smile swooned Dante as he rushed to her. Grabbing her amongst her laughs, he raised her in the air, spinning.
“Oh Ashley, I have found you. I have come home to you, my love. I have missed you so.”
“My husband, I have waited. This moment has been my dream since you left me. My love for you has blossomed.” She said as she kissed him.
Dante welcomed the kiss, embracing it, allowing it to sweep him away. The two lovers stayed embraced as one lead the other through the house. Dante could feel his soul swell his joy at coming home. Parker had just been joking. Or not real, as he had hit his head, he remembered. Who cared, as he was home with his wife in his arms. He saw that they had made it to their bedroom. Dante kissed Ashley passionately, his wanting of her from their time apart revealing itself in full force. As the two fell into bed, Dante had not noticed undressing, but that didn’t matter, as his wife’s beautiful face hovered over his.
“My husband, I have wanted this since the day you left. Please tell me you love me.”
“I love you Ashley, I love you.”
“No, I want you to say it”, said Ashley, her face scrunched, distorted.
“I do Ashley, I love. I want to hold you, to make love to you Ashley. We are each others.”
“Please say it Dante. Say it. I love you Tia Shinlong.”
“What?…” Dante gasped, that name striking home in the back of his brain, among supposedly forgotten memories. Then as he watched, Ashley… changed. He face seemingly sunk into itself, twisting around in a maelstrom of flesh. It rested in the shape of an Asian girl, with a pristine beauty.
“Say it Dante, as I know you want to,” said this thing that lay on top of Dante, who was turning ashen white. The face then began to rot and decay; flesh falling off onto Dante’s bare chest. This metamorphoses left a partially covered skull, which still spoke, the eyes still staring into Dante’s, awaiting the answer. “Because I love you Dante, and I will never leave you again. Tia loves you.”
The head began to lower itself, this thing wanting to kiss Dante. He could not move, he could not pull away. The partial lips began to press into his as finally a scream erupted from his lips and strength returned as he rose up.
Dante swung his head around, finding no one on top of him, and alone except for Parker who stood staring as his friend. The cold sweat slowly made its way down Dante’s back.
“I’m in hell…” he whispered to himself.
In Egypt, in the Chosen Court…
The guards led the cloaked figure along the narrow hallways. It had demanded an interview, and all parties had accepted. But they did not like letting this one see him. However, he gave the orders, and they just followed. Yet this cloaked one frightened them. Especially when one guard swore they saw a clawed hand beneath the cloak.
August 23rd, 2005, 08:34 PM
Chapter Six: Searchers
In the Chosen Court…
Among the tall stone columns the three walked: two guards and the cloaked figure. In its own quiet way, the figure respected the architecture around the Court. Everything was stone, save for the doors. Counting the turns they made as they made there way to their destination, the figure wondered how long it would take to get there. It would guess they were going in circles, but it was impossible to tell as there were no distinguishing marks. Just column after column. Finally, they arrived at a pair of gigantic oak doors. It could tell they had to have been imported, as there were no such trees around.
“The visitor….,” the first guard said, announcing them as they walked through the now open doors.
“Come forth and speak thy business,” said the apparent ruler of the Court.
Not taking off his cloak, Azarath Daemion looked through the darkness created by his hood and took in what he saw. This ruler sat on an impressive stone throne, intricately sculpted. This Court seemed immense, with its painted walls, and more stone columns. His gaze once more fell on the ruler, who he could tell was trying to perceive him through the shadow.
“I say it once more, Speak! I will not demand a third time,” ordered Tyfoon.
“I meant no disrespect,” lied Azarath, bowing with too much emphasis; the action didn’t lose meaning to Tyfoon. “I am just traveling through. Simply… seeing the sights. I happened to be walking one of the streets when these, gentlemen seemingly arrested me.”
“You are not under arrest. You are here to answer for your business. You shall not blame the guards for following MY orders,” stated Tyfoon, while Azarath seethed inside.
“Of course. I am but a traveler. I am… just passing through.”
“That is NOT an answer,” said Tyfoon, who leaned forward in his throne. “For what are you looking?”
Wanting to yell curses and kill him on the spot for questioning him in this way, Azarath held back, knowing it would not help him achieve the information he searched for. “Looking for? I am not looking for anything,” Azarath managed to saw through clenched jaws.
“You said “See the sights”. I might not be brilliant, but I am not stupid. You are looking for something. What is it you seek?!” commanded Tyfoon.
Somewhat impressed by the deduction, and by his seemingly slip, Azarath recovered with “A place to worship.”
Tyfoon simply looked at the cloaked figure. “Show your face.”
“That I cannot do,” replied Daemion. “My face is for me too see.”
Growing flushed, Tyfoon stepped down from his throne. The guards looked worried as he walked up to the cloaked figure. Standing up at his full height, Tyfoon addressed Azarath. “I do NOT care what you think you face is for. This is my Court, MY territory. All are under my jurisdiction. I say show me your face, you do as I say.”
It took all of Azarath’s strength not to lash out at this thing in front of him. Instead of trying to kill Tyfoon, using one hand he drew back his cloak. Tyfoon looked at his yellow eyes, as if trying to read his soul. With that thought, Azarath almost chuckled.
Satisfied, Tyfoon turned and simply said “There are many places of worship around here. Your search will not be long.”
Sensing the insult of the turned back, Azarath retaliated by answering before Tyfoon seated and was turned around, “Then I thank you for your help.” The words dripped in sarcasm, and the instant reaction drew blood from Tyfoon’s lips. Before he could retort, the guards were already following Azarath to lead him out. Tyfoon simply watched as the doors shut. He knew that this figure could only be trouble. He called for another of his guardsmen.
“Follow that man throughout the city. Send back reports of his activities. Do not let him out of your sights, or I will make sure you have none left. Clear?”
Azarath smiled as he found the guards hadn’t been going in circles, and managed to get out of the building system without guidance. That memory would serve him well in the future. Deciding, as he thought over the conversation he had just had, that he had not received any real information, Azarath continued his search. Someone in this place must have heard something, even rumors, about his goal.
In the Suntar Khayata Mts. of Eastern Russia…
Among the snowcapped peaks he walked. He sought. He knew. He knew that there had to be something they had done. Of course it was. It was always them. They had toyed. They manipulated.
Trudging the snow, this figure walked. He had to reach the upcoming village. There, there would be warmth. All that he had been through, and for warmth he searched now. He cursed them. Right before he cursed his plight. All that he had done. And now he was searching for a village. His teleportation was of no use to him. He couldn’t know where he was going. This place, this private little hell, provided him with no landmarks to go by. He might teleport into one of these mountains. Thus, he had to stick with walking. And now, a wind seemed to pick up.
But, around the bend, through the snow, there could be seen light! Now, he teleported to the light, to the warmth. He entered a tavern, and almost gasped from the pure ecstasy of the fire. The sounds of people, and beer mugs clinking, and silverware clanging assailed his ears. Now he could satisfy his other needs. His hunger and thirst. Though his real hunger could not be quenched here.
He drank the warm brew, feeling its heat as it slid down. Devouring his meal, this warrior could feel now a little better. He realized that his previous condition had blunted his senses. He had not been able to tell he was being monitored. Glaring, he felt ready to get his blood flowing with a quick slaughter.
Takiro Yasha stood, ready to attack this one who watched him. But, Zylo simply stepped forward, motioning that he meant no harm. He took a seat at Takiro’s table. Not wanting to get blood in his drink, Takiro sat down as well.
“What do you want?” said Takiro gruffly.
“I want of nothing. But, others have want of you, Takiro Yash,.” replied Zylo.
Taken aback at the knowledge of his name, Takiro almost finished off Zylo right there.
“Who wants anything of me should come themselves.”
“It would not be practical for all to travel together.”
“Who wants of me?”
“They want to fight? I’ll kill them all over twice. You, just once as that is what you deserve.”
Zylo chuckled, infuriating Takiro. “No, not to fight them, but instead with them. I am a messenger of alliance.”
That was something worth listening too. Perhaps, he thought as Zylo explained, these might help him in his fight against the manipulators. The toyers. The gods.
The pair prepared to leave the building. During their conversation, the owner had come, asking for “payment”. Takiro, finding that he did not want to slaughter this ally, paid everyone in the tavern. The two stepped outside, and as they walked, behind them were left a trail of red footprints, leading away from the tavern that seemed to be oozing blood.
Azarath thanked himself for his excellent memory. His intuition had been right. Someone DID know about his goal. The one he had already meet. Thus, it seemed to be time to backtrack.
It only took him about 200 yards to see that he had a person trailing him. Only another 100 for him to find a place and capture this spy. And just 5 minutes of torture (a lifetime on the receiving end) to find out who had his information. The guard had been most loose lipped. Azarath hoped that Tyfoon hadn’t promised punishment. He hated not allowing someone to feel pain in some way.
The hallways were empty, filled only with the large stone columns. Azarath entered the room that had Tyfoon’s throne, but it was of course empty. The moon light entered, allowing him to see quite clearly. Moving around behind the throne, he saw a few doors. One, he knew, must lead the way to the camber area. There, he would retrieve his information. However, which door to choose was the decision. Three doors, three choices. If he thought hard about, any of the doors would either be right or wrong. Thus, he simply walked through one. It happened to be the middle.
This walkway seemed to be much shorter, but the doors at the end were even larger than those to the Throne Room. Massive pieces of wood, Azarath almost had to strain to open them in this form. Inside, no bed was to be found. This did not sadden Azarath, as it replaced the bedroom in significance: the Library. The shelves reached 50 feet up, and were easily 100 feet long. He could not see around the different corners. There MUST be a map in here. Or at least a clue, he thought. He decided to start in front of him. Reaching for the first book, a sound stopped him. Turning, Tyfoon stood in the doorway, only half-clothed.
“This isn’t the place of worship you were looking for,” Tyfoon flatly stated.
“No? This is about to become your Temple of Pain.”
Takiro stood in the darkness, not fully understanding where he was. Zylo had traveled with him, but had lead them somewhere outside the village. Then, a building stood, resting in the snow, just around the bend. He had followed Zylo inside. But, once entering this room, his companion had vanished, and now it was just he in the dark. But now, voices spoke.
“Takiro Yasha. Is that who stands before us, with his sword by his side, with anger in his heart at the gods?” spoke a loud controlling voice.
“I am Yasha,” Takiro replied, amazed that they knew about his inner rage.
“Good, Zylo had done his work,” said another voice. “Takiro, would you join us as allies in battle, to fight in our campaign?”
“Who are you that asks?”
“Answer!” demanded the first voice.
“I would always fight to kill those who are mortal, just as I fight to destroy those who are not.”
“Yasha, that is compliant. We will call upon you, just as you may call upon us in your times of need,” continued the second voice.
“I am NEVER in times of need.” Takiro stated, angry that these people he couldn’t see would imply his weakness.
“We will see Yasha. Go,” commanded the first.
Takiro spun around, and walked out of the room. His faced widened in shock as he felt the rain fall upon it, and a different view assailed his eyes. He had been in the mountains. In snow. Now, just mud and spots of grass covered the hilly landscape. Looking down, he even saw that his boots were beginning to sink. How had he come here?
“That is one more among our ranks. He will make a nice addition,” said the second voice.
“He shall. There is another who shall also join,” replied the first.
“Zylo, go forth and bring us the next.”
“As commanded,” he said with a bow.
With that said, Azarath Daemion reached into his cloak and pulled out a katana. Before Tyfoon could react, Azarath aimed his claw behind him and fired a Demonlight, propelling the devil at his enemy. Tyfoon dodged to one side, but not fast enough as the katana cut through his unshielded flesh. A small spray of blood washed over Azarath, who landed on both feet. Then Tyfoon made his first move.
Tyfoon ignored the small flesh wound, and summoned his sword. He swung at his opponent with his sword, but Azarath blocked. The two struggled for control with their swords still touching each other Tyfoon was holding his sword with one hand, while Azarath was struggling with two. Tyfoon used his free hand to fire a bolt of electricity at his enemy, which hit him square in the stomach. Azarath flew back and collided into a shelf of books. The shelf crumbled upon him hitting it and it fell upon him. Tyfoon smiled and lit the wood on fire.
Azarath vaulted out of the ruined bookcase, jump-kicking Tyfoon right in the face. As the dazed warrior stumbled back, Azarath elbowed him in the stomach, then kicked him to the ground. "You're nothing." Tyfoon raised both hands and fired bolts of lighting at the devil, but he sidestepped them, returning the favor with a Demonlight.
Tyfoon rolled out of the way and hopped to his feet. The two exchanged swinging and blocking with their swords, neither landing a hit. Then Tyfoon fired an energy blast at Azarath. He ducked, and then Tyfoon kneed him in the nose. Tyfoon then blasted his adversary with fire, and his clothes caught fire. Azarath struggled to put out the fire, but Tyfoon blew wind at him, which fueled the fire even more, and the Tyfoon jump kicked Azarath into a stone shelf. More books caught fire, which annoyed Azarath, because he didn't want any of the maps to catch fire. Azarath landed on the floor, and rolled around and finally distinguished the fire, but not before receiving some bad burns.
Azarath jumped across the ground, grabbing a pole from the ruined bookcase. Then he swung it at Tyfoon, who merely blasted it with fire. So the devil swung it in front of Tyfoon's face, forcing him to breathe in some of the harmful smoke. Tyfoon gagged, and then received a glancing blow to his chest from the pole. Azarath tossed it aside, going in for an uppercut that sent Tyfoon back into the stone wall. "Tell me where it is and I'll let you go with your limbs intact." He received no response. "Fair enough." Azarath threw a kunai into Tyfoon's foot.
Tyfoon grunted in agony as the metal pierced his pedal flesh. In the heat of battle, he did not have time to reach and retract the weapon. He rolled as Azarath pressed his attack, firing Demonlights. Tyfoon found himself in the hallway outside the library, among the stone columns. He took a step forward to get away from the doorway, but landed on his injured foot, losing his balance, he fell as Azarath came through to join him.
Tyfoon took the kunai out of his foot, and as Azarath ran at him, Tyfoon threw the weapon awkwardly and it hit his enemy in the head with its flat side. Tyfoon got up, but realized that with his foot so badly injured, he had little chance of winning. Azarath kicked the kunai aside and rubbed his head.
“Where is it!?" Azarath demanded. Tyfoon looked at him in puzzlement.
"What are you talking about!?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. The temple. I need to know just where it is." Azarath's voice oozed of malice. "Give me a map." Tyfoon hit him with a blast of electricity in response, knocking the devil down for the moment. Azarath blasted back, striking Tyfoon with several Demonlights and blasting him to the ground.
Tyfoon fell to the ground. As he fell, Azarath leapt toward him and kicked Tyfoon in the gut when he landed. Tyfoon grunted in pain, but he managed to get up before Azarath could stomp on him again. Tyfoon kicked Azarath in the head, but, forgetting about his foot, did it with his injured foot. Tyfoon winced in pain, but didn’t let it affect him now. Azarath smashed Tyfoon’s bad foot with his own and pushed Tyfoon into the wall. Azarath reared back his fist and drove it into Tyfoon’s face as hard as he could. Tyfoon’s head jerked back and the force of the hit knocked Tyfoon partially through the wall.
The devil smiled ear-to-ear. He was enjoying how this fight was turning out. Clenching both fists, he landed blows into the Chosen One whose struggles grew less and less. Tyfoon threw out his arm, catching both of Azarath's and stopping the blows for a few moments. In response, the devil pulled out another kunai and plunged it through Tyfoon's outstretched palm.
Tyfoon clenched his teeth in pain, and managed to escape from the corner he was in. Tyfoon ran down the hall, and took the Kunai out of his hand. It was bleeding profusely, and Tyfoon wasn't going to have enough time to mend the wound. Tyfoon was up to his neck in trouble...
"Run!" Azarath jeered. "Run far away and never come back!" He threw his head back and laughed.
Then as a final move, Azarath pushed against a gigantic stone column. The effect resembled large dominoes, chasing after the fleeing leader. The roof loosing its supports, it eventually collapsed, falling on Tyfoon, covering him. All except his hand, which slowly opened in the rising dust.
Azarath returned to the library, pleased that the majority of volumes were unharmed. Starting his search, he quickly found what he needed. Gently folding the map, he put it into his cloak. Now, he would be able to make his journey a little shorter. Silently, he left the Court, heading out into the desert.
Guards surrounded the pile of rubble, and began to quickly move it. Until the rocks all rose into the air, before settling on a clean spot on the floor. Tyfoon lay, bloodied, bones emerging from his skin, his form a near glob of fleshy putty.
“Find him. Kill him. Bring me what was taken…” Tyfoon gasped before falling unto a coma.
The tall warrior simply bowed, then went into the city.
Running among the trees, he managed to stay in the shadows. A burst of speed, a leap. He sat, crouched on the branches. Scanning around him, he leapt to another branch. Continuing his journey, his search.
He had to find her. Had to find…someone…
November 12th, 2005, 01:49 PM
Chapter Seven: Bitter Love
German Black Forest…
Jesse Alonso squinted, the sunlight reflecting off the fresh snow. It had fallen during the night, as he had rested in the branches of the pine trees in the forest. The intense cold did not faze him. Temperatures of the extreme variety had all been encountered. Instead, the cold, crisp air invigorated him. Feeling that grip in his lungs when he inhaled energized him even more. Even now, as he trudged through the three feet of snow, he felt as fresh as he had been … with her for the first time.
It had been a long time since Jesse had last felt that longing in his heart. His soul. His natural urges had usually been taken care of. But them, they were nothing but leaves in the wind. Yet, she seemed different. It might have just been because she could fight. Others had fought, but with that skill, and with that beautiful attractive grace. None he had ever seen could come close.
Leaping up, Jesse took hold of one of the low hanging branches in a tree. Swiftly, he went to the top looking around. He had little idea of where he was besides that he seemed to be in the northern hemisphere. That information did not help him find her though. It just reminded him of how lost he was. Leaping, he continued south, towards what he hoped would be a body of water. Which would lead to civilization.
With nothing to do but keep moving, Jesse occupied himself by thinking of when he had seen her last. In New York City.
Jesse looked into Gadornos' eyes and then pulled her into a fierce kiss. Gadornos eyes widened, then closed, as she put herself into the kiss, with fiery passion. Jesse finally broke the kiss, and started to speak. He said three words. Though...Not the three words Gadornos was hoping for. "I am sorry," he said, as he knocked her out with a quick jab to the back of her head.
A smile came across Jesse’s face as he thought of that kiss. Quickly it turned to sadness as he thought of how he had left her, but it had to be done. What little emotion that reserved itself for others, Gadornos had a monopoly on the amount. He wondered where she might be.
Cool air swept underneath her massive wings and over her back. It caught her breath, making it visible as she son left it behind. She had searched now ours, not truly knowing where all she was heading, or had been. Knowing that sooner or later, surely she would stumble upon another town or village, enabling her to learn of her position. Then, another search would begin. For the one that even now gripped her heart, freezing her breath in her lungs more than any temperature could ever hope to do.
Gadornos yearned to find him, just by chance, in this land. The probability was close to impossible, but love eternally gives hope. Hope had not left her since he had, when… only hours, days ago? For her, time seemed to have left reality, refusing to keep track of events any longer. She could no longer recall how long he had been at searching. Sleep came easily enough, as it could be had while flying as a Wind Dragon. But rest made itself a stranger to her, as even her dreams consisted of searching for her love, Jesse.
Off, on the horizon, Gadornos saw smoke rising above the trees, gently moving in the breeze. Making best speed, she made her way to it, landing far enough no one would see her transformed self. Changing back into a more familiar humanoid form, she entered the village. The cold now challenged all of her, no longer protected in dragon form. Gratefully, she pulled the warm down-jacket she had acquired in the last stop close to her. Speeding up, she entered what she hoped was the local tavern. Thankfully, speaking foreign tongues was easier than reading them for her.
“Check out the morning delivery,” whispered one customer to his friend.
“This early? That is all you ever think about!” replied the friend, trying to ignore the fact Gadornos looked in their direction at the first comment.
“What can I say? When its cold…” laughed the first friend before being interrupted.
“You can kindly tell me which village I am in,” answered Gadornos to the rhetorical question. “I just arrived and have yet to find out.”
“Then you maybe should leave bef…” again the man was interrupted.
“Lady, this place translates as “Hitler’s Crapper”, and before you manage to understand the name, perhaps you should leave,” yelled out the owner of the establishment. He heard every conversation in his building.
“Which way is best?” asked Gadornos of the two in front of her.
In a low, dangerous voice, the second man simply answered “Alive.” Thanking them, she did leave the building, and began to walk as fast as possible to the woods around the village. Noticing she was being followed, Gadornos speed up. However, she was not used to running in such large and bulky clothing. Deciding that it didn’t really matter what these lowlife’s saw, she transformed into a dragon, taking to the air.
“Did you see that?” said one figure.
“I did,” said another.
“What wonderful information to know…” said the last, eyes hidden deep in his hood.
Gadornos now flew on, searching again. She hadn’t learned anything real important, and she still didn’t know where exactly she was anymore. But from love, spring hope.
Taking refuge and a meal in a kind stranger’s house, a warrior laid down to rest for the night. Trano wondered where he should do next. Managing to make his way here, some town called Mardin, he truly felt tired, especially after fighting that monumental battle with Takiro Yasha. He had survived what seemed like death, and for that he was thankful to the gods for his guess that they had been in control. For now, he had the ability to find the Temple. There was no factual reason why he should be sure it even existed, he thought to himself. But it WAS real, for Atron would not bother with such a thing otherwise. He must find it.
However, in his heart another string pulled. The longer he waited, the stronger it pulled. For days, it felt as though his heart or mind would lose a piece of itself to the tugging. That longing. For the string as that of love, and only his wife could pull it. His wife. Laner. Beautiful Laner.
It had been so long since he last saw her, held her. With all of his being he missed her, and would do anything to be able to kiss even her hands for one second. Surely, he reasoned, she had been displaced as the rest, thought Trano. To find her might take years. In his mind, he knew he would search for ages if that is how long it took. Tomorrow, his ages would begin to find his love.
Or so he decided until a more practical section of his mind reasoned out. She might be lost for ages, but the Temple could not be. If created by the gods themselves, who knew what might happen if someone found it? Knowledge gleamed might have more impact than anything seen before by mortal eyes. Love can wait, a more important task is at hand, Trano realized with sadness. For her safety, and perhaps more, he had to out her aside, and concentrate on the more important search. That Temple needed to be found as quickly as possible, more so than love. With that thought, Trano slept.
Days Pass By…
Though Jesse could travel with ease, not even he could keep up such a great pace forever. Germany was a good sized place, one a much bigger place of Europe. Yet, he looked for his love, in what could be vain. Southwards he traveled.
Gadornos felt something that to here was rare, exhaustion not caused by a fight. Not even she could fly for so long with out rest in humanoid form. Sometime she slept underneath the stars, other times snuggled in a warm inn. As she slept, only Jesse filled her head. Still, while awake she went north.
Trano traveled southwest, headed towards the Mediterranean Sea. Knowing the temple had to be in a desert area, and the best bet seemed to be Africa. The quickest way lead through Syria. Using every trick available to him, he made great time making it through the country. This was helped by the fact that, unlike Gadornos, he didn’t care if natives saw his power or not. Though non did, it wouldn’t have hurt his feelings if someone HAD tried to stop him. In a few days time, he also managed to leave a few cars misplaced from where he had found them. Soon, he entered a new country.
After going over a border wall, Trano entered Israel. He seeked to enter Egypt from this place, and made it to the coast in a few hours time. Though he had to apprehend one vehicle, as he didn’t wish to run through this area. Soon, after traveling down the coast, he entered the city of Tel Aviv.
Ditching the old beaten up car, Trano went through the crowded city streets. Ignoring those around him, he silently pushed them aside until he heard something that caught his attention.
“..ait! Trano, wait up!” a voice cried out.
Stopping, Trano looked around for the source of the call. His eyes did not wander long, for something fell into his sights so precious he never wanted them to blink. Running towards him was that which he had decided to set aside, his love. Beginning now to run to meet her, Trano embraced his wife, Laner. In the moment, a passion seized them both as not only their arms, but lips embraced as well. Not just a few eyes turned to watch as spectators kept walking. Eventually, after too short a time, they pulled apart.
“Here, let us go to a place where we can sit an talk. It has been so long my love,” suggested Trano.
“I too have much to say,” said Laner, going along with her husband.
The couple sat down in a restaurant, with few patrons were there for meals. Looking across the table at each other, they laid their hands on each other’s.
“I have worried so much about you Trano. As we were traveling towards New York and you went ahead of me, I though it would only be hours until we met back up. I had just entered the city as it … ceased to be. I must have blacked out, for when a woke, I found myself here. Apparently a widow named Mayaan and her daughter found me, taking me inside their home. They have feed me and housed me as I have waited. I knew that you would search for me and come. You always have,” started Laner.
“I always will. I went ahead of you after receiving news from Gadornus that his sister needed help immediately. I too expected you to soon arrive. When I found Gadornos, she seemed to have found herself.. a beau it seemed. Though I would hardly call him worthy of her,” continued Trano.
“But that isn’t for you to decide!” exclaimed Laner, who’s romantic heart softened at the thought of Gadornos finding love. She felt a sort of girlish glee at the thought of talking about it with her.
“ Perhaps not to decide, but I can surely give my advice as a friend. However, he was adequate with a sword, I do give him that.”
Laner gasped in horror. “You FOUGHT him?!” she exclaimed, shocked that her husband had perhaps gone so far to enforce his opinion.
“Of course! He insulted me, and we clashed. Do not worry Laner. By “adequate”, I mean he managed to survive. He did in fact deserve some credit, for I noticed that after she seemed unconscious (which drew another gasp from Laner) this fellow, Jesse I believe, carried her off to what was a safe place. For that I was thankful once the gods arrived.”
“Atron? Why was h…”
“Let me finish my wife. It appeared that Atron and some other gods had a dispute to settle, and they chose us, the mere mortals, to solve it. They put us together to fight to the death. I made it to a final match as I had figured out what was happening through writing in … by Atron. I lost to some creature named Takiro. The..”
“But you said it was to the death?” questioned his wife. “Surely it didn’t happen again?”
“No. It was to the death, but Atron would not let us perish for something so trivial as that tournament. It was as we returned to the world that New York faced its destruction. It transported us around the world. I arrived in Asia Minor and have traveled here.”
“To find me. My husband, how I have missed you over what seemed like forever, but was just days,” she said, squeezing his hands. “Faith I have had for years, and it kept through those days. I love you so much Trano.”
“And I you Laner. But…,” Trano struggled inside himself. Should he tell her that he had not expected to find her here? That he must continue on his journey. And at that… he must go alone. Truth won that day, for nothing else could be worthy of his wife.
Noticing his hesitation, Laner urged him on. “But what husband?”
“I must tell you Laner the truth. Nothing less do you deserve. I did not come here searching for you. It was a wonderful surprise, but not my purpose here.”
Laner’s eyes transformed into a look of confusion.
“During the tournament, I learned that on this sphere lies an ancient Temple, similar to those from home. Atron communicated to me there, on the walls. Though I fought in places not of this earth, they were places from the world. It is here. I must find it, and understand its power. Or else, it might fall into someone else’s grasp.”
Though ribbons of hurt snaked through Laner’s eyes, she still smiled. “I understand. Sometimes things do take place over what you would rather do. But now, together we can easily find this place.”
“You are mistaken.”
Confusion easily visible in her eyes now.
“You’ve decided not to look for it?” asked Laner.
“No. There shall be no we. Only I shall look for the Temple. It is a journey that only I can make.”
The hurt enveloped all of her eyes, as tears formed in the corners.
“Why? There is no need to “protect” me! I can EASILY take care of myself! And you as well!”
“I know, but you cannot come. This trek I must make. It is my decision.”
“That is your reason! We have fought battles before, but this time, you don’t want my help because you simply decide it?!”
Tears now ran down her checks freely, her breath becoming racked with sobs.
“Yes. I myself do not know what all lies there. It might well kill me, or make me stronger than I even am now. But I cannot let anything hurt you,” explained Trano. And, he thought, he did not want her to see what he might have to do on the way there.
“Your so … SELFISH! Leave! Go on your little treasure hunt! So be it!” yelled Laner, earning the attention of those few in the establishment. She rose out of her chair, spinning away from Trano, not wanting him to see her cry in this way. That didn’t prevent her from shaking as she tried to stifle her crying.
Trano knew that she was hurt, but it must be this way. “Laner, I am sorry,” he said, also rising, and walking to her. “I love you.” Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t let the journey harm you.”
Quick as lighting, she turned and slapped Trano across the face. “I don’t want to hear it!”
Turning, Trano walked out of the place, with a glance making the people staring look suddenly at their plates. Making his way towards the south once more, he silently took his leave of his wife.
“I don’t want to hear it because I understand…” Laner whispered quietly to herself, collapsing back down into her chair. The owner silently brought her a glass of water. Holding herself, she mumbled out a thank you, accepted with a nod of the head as she began to sip the drink. The owner had seen more than one dispute between lovers. Slowly she sipped it. She was remorseful that she had slapped Trano, but it had seemed the only thing to do at the time. She DID understand why he must go alone. But that didn’t make it easier to let go once again. Finishing her water she left, heading back to the comfort of Mayaan’s abode.
Down the street…
“Curses on their heads! These filthy murderous dogs shall perish today, their souls going to the depths of hell to burn for eternity!” thought a driver of a non-descript vehicle. “May the infidels writhe in pain as they journey to the underworld! And I shall look down at them from my virgin filled heaven and spit at them with vigor.”
The car continued down the street, seeming like just another car. Ignored by the pedestrians, including Laner. Until the igniter activated the explosive.
The vehicle instantly became a glowing fireball. Forces splayed outwards, shrapnel shooting out, covering everything with projectiles. Then, the secondary fuel was ignited.
The street, the block, instantly became consumed in the confusion.
Out of town, due southwest…
Through the noise of the car and radio, Trano did not hear the explosion. He continued on, his weight heavy with regret, but his will still was set in its way. Finding the Temple… it now had turned into his be all, end all task. Nothing can stand in his way. Not even love.
On the shore of Constance Bodenseen…
Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. The hazy vision brought on by sleep faded away. In seconds, her brain registered where she was. And who she was with.
Turning her head, Gadornos saw beside her the one she had searched for so long. Jesse still slept, refusing to leave the realm of dreams this early. Looking back up at the ceiling, Gadornos recalled how they had finally found each other. Their long embrace said so much more than any mortal words ever could. Having been so late, they thankfully had found this cabin vacant, allowing them protection from the cold wind blowing in from the lake. There eyes spoke so much, and they had loved. For the first time in her existence, she had finally felt content. She had fought for so long, traveled through perils, for this one time, she had done something solely for herself. And it had been wonderful.
Looking back over at Jesse, she changed that to mostly herself. Then, the whisps of sleep grabbed her once more. Snuggling back up to Jesse’s form, she slept once more.
To the South…
By now, the cold had hardened the mud, and the winds from the north had brought snow. But, still he traveled. Briefly he had sensed what could only be his mission, his objective. Once was all he needed. Thus, he trudged on, already thinking of things to do, horrible things, that would elect the most pain from his target.
In a strange castle in Durenstan…
Stealth. The thought of stealth, gave stealth. Always useful, always needed. Stealth, used even for entering the throne room. Used, because deep inside, trust was a stranger. But here, it felt worthless. Still, the ruler knew where he was. Stealth, left his mind. The form kneeled.
“Reports are correct, your Evilness. The Trio indeed crossed our borders,, and all three seem to be warriors. Together, they are quite strong indeed,” spoke the figure in a quiet voice.
“Very well. They are intruders, and powerful ones at that. What do you say, my queen?” said a very large, imposing figure situated on a large gray throne.
“Send our warrior. Let them fight, then bring them here for…interrogation,” the queen answered.
“My love, our thoughts are one as always,” the king replied with an evil laugh that echoed throughout the cold stone structure.
January 18th, 2006, 04:23 PM
Chapter Eight: Evil’s Nation
Three figures traveled, not really knowing where they were. Freak circumstances had brought them together, and now they stayed together for survival. Or at least… well, if not survival, none of them would be the first to leave.
“You know, that really was a weird sign back there,” stated Dante.
“Which part about it: the message about your doom on the front, the death threat on the back, or the fact everything was written in BLOOD?” Sef replied with sarcasm.
As they reached a crest of a hill, Dante’s terse comment died in his throat. The trio looked on in shock.
“Well, we know where the blood came from,” Dallas managed.
Before the trio, a simple village rested at the bottom of the hill. Except, it just used to be a village. Now only the remains of burnt buildings stood, nestled among the rotting organs and stagnant juices of the populous. Blood flows through the ditches and ruts left by years of daily town life.
Looking at each other, wordlessly they decide to circumvent the pestilence. Each had seen worse in their time, but to wade among the dead would not fall on their list of favorite things. Traveling off the path, the group never studies the town. They miss that the blood never stops flowing. Even when going uphill.
Some one looked on as the group realized that the road they had been following didn’t continue on the other side of the village. Too far away to hear them speak, their conversation was easily discerned. Clearly Dante felt that this predicament fell on Sef’s shoulders. Sef blamed it on Dante. Dallas just wanted to shoot them both.
Silently chuckling, the watching figure followed as they moved on.
After the fourth such village, the trio had gained like a sense of where the next would be. They could smell the odor of the corpses farther away then they could before. See the villages up close no matter how far away. Inside each of them, a debate raged over which was happening: were they just beginning to expect it, or was what got them getting them now?
Coming upon the sixth such village, something seemed different. Deciding to approach, the trio slowly moved closer. Making their way to the edge of the village, the stench almost overcame them. But they realized the difference. Softly, they could hear the sound of a living among the dead.
Sef, being the lightest of the three, was chosen to skirt on top of the ruins and try to find the living. Not fully agreeing, Sef went anyway. Using what little agility he had, Sef made his way along the remains of buildings, following the sounds. Finally, he came to the source. A small boy sat over undistinguishable groups of organs and skin. The noise that they had heard were the sobbing from this small form. Sef called down to the boy, trying to get his attention. Finally the boy leaned his head back, though his eyes were still tightly closed. It looked to Sef like he had blood on his face. Leaning down, Sef grabbed hold of the child and made his way back to the group. The boy held on tightly to his savior’s cloak as they walked up to Dante and Dallas.
“Poor kid. Had to watch all of this,” said Dallas, concern and understanding in his eyes.
“So what do we do with him?” asked Dante.
“Talk to him and ask him his name!” answered Sef quite sternly. Gently jostling the boy, Sef asked him his name.
“I have none. My mother died… when she gave birth to me. Promise me you will kill those who did this,” stated the rather verbose lad.
Before the rest could answer, Dallas spoke.
“We will. And it will be painful.”
“Good,” smiled the lad, eyes still closed. “May we leave this place?”
“Agreed,” answered Dante.
Sef noticed that the blood on the child’s face had not dried. It still looked wet and fresh, though no wound could be seen.
“How old are you?” asked Dallas.
“Four weeks old.”
Chuckling, Dallas said “No, how old are you really? Or do you not know?”
With an almost angry tone, the child replied “Four weeks. I know how old I am.”
That elicited a laugh from Dante. “Why do you question such a child twice? He gave you his answer the first time.”
Ignoring the current conversation, Sef asked “Child, why do you have blood on your face?”
“Because…” Dante sarcasm was cut off by an answer.
“I bleed. I am blood. Now, I must go. Thank you for your promi…”
The child’s sentence abruptly was cut off as he opened his eyes. Except, no eyes were inside. Only membranes filled with blood. Sef jumped as he was a worm swim by where the pupil should be. He dropped the child when the things burst through the membrane. The contents now free, flowed out as if pressurized. When the child hit the ground, it was akin to a balloon bursting. Blood and organs erupted out of his chest, covering the trio and the ground. The skull seemed to have survived, and rolled into the center of the three. Almost as if it was guided. The face looked up at the sky. And spoke.
“se of vengeance.”
The blood then disappeared off of the group, but still stained the earth. Blood flowed along the dirt.
“Freaky,” Dallas said as he began to walk.
Dante and Sef followed silently. They didn’t know if they were making themselves do so or not. The stench of the dead soon passed, but the taste permeated their entire bodies. Finding a new unpaved road, the trio kept moving.
The desolation of the surroundings had slowly chipped away at the trio's will. But, they knew that forward was the only way to go. So much death and pestilence must have a source, and a promise had now turned into obligation. They had to make it to the seed of this evil, and destroy it. The wind caught and carried the dirt and dust kicked up from the six feet.
"If we only knew how much farther we had to travel..." thought Dante out loud.
"If we only didn't need to go there," retorted Sef.
"If's don't get you anywhere. We promised. We witnessed what has passed over this place. Even worse," Dallas continued. "The death rattle still echoes in our ears."
Reaching the crest of a slight rise, the trio found a figure standing in the road.
"Soon, that rattle will be your own," threatened the figure.
Senkai suddenly spun around, and a burst of wind blew earth into the trio's eyes. As he came to a spot, he fired a beam as he leapt, drawing his sword.
Dante knelt down as his two companions shot off from his sides.
"Did you guys feel that?" hollered Dante.
"Yea...sure did...thanks for stating...the obvious..." replied Sef as he was caught by fits of coughing.
"No, not the dirt you simpleton. Surely you can sense energy levels. Those moves lowered his energy significantly."
"I'm not sure about that energy sensing stuff but I'll take your word for it." said Dallas as he fired on Senkai.
Senkai spun around causing another tornado. This was a dual purpose maneuver. It served not only to deflect the bullets from their intended course, but also allowed Senkai to get in close to Dallas.
Dallas and Senkai traded blows since the guns proved ineffective. Finally grappling with the towering fighter Dallas was thrown several feet.
Sef still stood on the sidelines fighting his cough.
As Senkai charged at Dallas a bullet whizzed by his head.
"It appears you have bad aim." said Senkai as he turned to Dante.
Dante holstered his pistol, the black metal gleaming in the sunlight.
"Who ever said I was actually trying to hit you."
Dante drew his katana and rushed at the fighter. Senkai too charged. Dante swung his sword to the left as he reached Senkai. He ducked under the blade. As the blade passed over his right shoulder he jumped up pushing the blade up. Swinging his sword at Dante a smirk cam over his face; it was, however, short lived as Dante jumped back assuming a fighting stance.
Senkai growled and charged, his sword raised. Dante bent his knees and brought his left hand up. As Senkai's sword lowered Dante drew his kodachi and blocked the blow.
Dante then pushed off from the ground preparing for a spin kick. Rolling his kodachi around the blade of Senkai he managed to push it down and out of the way. Dante spun around in the air as his left foot hit Senkai in the face. Senkai's head snapped in the same direction as spit and blood shot from his lips.
Dante's right foot landed devastatingly in the back of his foe's head. This blow sent him careening away from Dante. As he flew Sef shot Senkai with simultaneous ice and lightning. Senkai landed some distance away and was besieged by a fit of coughing as his sword flickered and dissipated.
"Glad to see you recovered finally." joked Dallas.
Sef nodded and began to walk towards Dallas. Right then Senkai stood up. His breathing appeared laborious as he dusted himself off.
"Well he uses a lot of energy, that is true. It's just too bad..." started Dante.
"...his energy reserves seem massive." finished Dallas.
The four fighters stood, unmoving for a second as the wind whipped up and carried dust with it.
"Are massive," corrected Senkai.
Senkai spun, the gasses around him whirling with the motion, sending him into the air. Dallas fired rapidly at Senkai, but the fighter simply blew them down with twisters. Sef tried to gain a bead on him to use a magic attack, but by that time he had landed. Grasping the ground with one hand, Senkai crouched.
Sef fired a blast of fire, the flaming air reaching out to grasp flesh. Senkai expertly rolled over, and fired a twister, blowing the plume of heat back at Sef, who stumbled trying to avoid the heated gas which enveloped his cloak.
Dante, swung his sword around, keeping it close to the ground as Dallas kept firing, muttering to himself. Senkai blocked both attacks by creating a burst of wind around him, deflecting the sword and blowing the bullets away. Off balance from the awkward deflection, Dante had turned his open side to Senkai, who deftly kicked him right below the ribs. To his disappointment, the audible shattering of bones could not be had.
Sef, after rolling to put out his flaming cloak, quickly regained his footing. Sending out a lightning attack, Senkai found his twisters suddenly lacking. The bolt lanced out, striking its target. The force took Senkai into the air, but also in the direction of Dallas.
Who was, by this time, too the point of cursing as he could not get a bullet through the wind. His exclamation was even louder as Senkai, who as he flew over Dallas' head, brought his two clenched hands into Dallas' face. Even as Dallas landed on his back and slid backwards, his anger stemmed from the fact that his bullets only managed glancing blows at that close of a range.
Senkai used the momentum to simply bounce back to his feet, now facing the trio, his shoulder blackened, but seemingly fine. If not for the trickles of crimson that flowed from small cuts created by the bullets, he might be uninjured. Dante looked on in anger, his ribs feeling rather tender. Sef had been saved by his voluminous cloth. Dallas just cursed as he wiped away the blood that streaked down from his nose, raising up his guns once more.
Sef looked at Dallas and Dante and they nodded. They all ran at Senkai from different directions. Senkai laughed and said:
"Ha! This is the oldest one in the book," Senkai laughed while jumping.
To his disappointment, they jumped after him instead of colliding with each other. Senkai kicked Dante in the head and sent him plummeting down to the ground. But the other two warriors, Dallas and Sef, caught up to him in the air. Still flying upward, Dallas grabbed Senkai's head and flung him down to the ground. Sef aided and fired a lightning bolt at Senkai which hit him and brought him down to the ground with even more force. Senkai hopped up from the ground just as Sef and Dallas landed. Senkai looked intensely at Sef and Dallas, but forgot about Dante, who now rammed him from behind.
Dante's mistake came from keeping contact too long. Senkai twisted as he moved. He wrapped his arm around Dante's head, then spun around. By grabbing Dante's face, he whipped Dante's form to the ground. The force help Dante get back to his feet faster, having bounced so high, though he was still stunned for a moment.
Dallas had by this time, begun to fire once more. He had turned his weapons to Uzi mode, hoping the rapid fire and accelerated speed would cut through the twister's better. Even as Senkai deftly somersaulted over an ice blast, he unloaded his fury with an assault. Even as Sef tried a lightning attack, Senkai closed in too fast. Grabbing Sef's staff, he used the tip as an anchor, leaping into the air. The flying kick sent Sef careening backwards. But this time, Senkai knew that Dante was ready to attack him from behind.
Dante, however, learned from his mistake. Instead of tackling Senkai, spearing him in the back, while maybe cowardly, seemed like an effect means of reaching the goal. Senkai bent backwards over the blade even as it almost reached his skin. Then creating a stronger twister, he stopped the forward momentum of the sword as he rolled over it. Facing Dante at close range, even as he spun he grabbed his wrist with his right hand. Drawn back, Senkai looked hard into Dante's eyes, knowing that a quick strike could end this foes life.
As Senkai hung in the air in front of Dante a smirk came on the swordsman face. Senkai had no more time than to recognize the facial feature for what it was before it was too late.
Though Dante's wrist was held, his hand was not bound. Spinning his katana, the metal bit deep into the flesh of the shoulder of his foe. The distance was not sufficient enough to complete a rotation, but the deed was done none the less.
Seemingly having not learned from his last encounter, Dante pressed his luck once more. Brandishing the kodachi that he still held in his left hand, he quickly thrust at the stomach of his foe.
Senkai's eyes glared as anger and a small hint of respect filled his being. It would seem that he severely underestimated this one at first. A mistake easily redeemable.
Twisting his form once more he used Dante's arm as a spring board. Flipping backwards while in the air he avoided the second blow and managed to create another twister. This one sent Dante reeling back. Senkai, through the dust attempted a kick to the fighter but met only disappointment.
Dante landed in a crouch and a stance and sheathed his kodachi as he went. Sliding, his left hand glowed with blue energy as five energy stars leapt out towards Senkai.
Senkai deftly deflected the projectiles. As the dust cleared a mighty explosion hit Senkai from the right and sent him flying, yet again, off to Dante's right. The combined forces of a grenade from Dallas and a lightning blast from Sef had dealt the blow.
Senkai stood up, his eyes were aflame. Blood stood out in several spots on his body, his side was burned and his clothes charred, his shoulder burned as dust set in the wound, and his head had finally quit throbbing. As he regained composure he was one again met by his relentless adversaries.
Blade, staff, and glowing fist came at him from all angles.
Except, they could only come from three angles. A simple enough number to counter.
Dante reached Senkai first with his greater speed. Underestimation wasn't a factor in the quick clash. Lack of knowledge proved Dante's quick defeat in that clash. The katana's blade came down, slicing through the twister winds. Senkai's arm went up in the air. The blade pierced the earth, Dante's shocked look and almost bladeless katana handle reflecting off the metal.
Senkai's energy blade glowed with brightness, then faded away. The skilled fighter took advantage of Dante's momentum and useless handle to deliver a quick blow to the chin.
Sef found himself behind Dante, and now the two crashed into each other. Dallas took advantage and leapt at Senkai, ready to take him out. But Senkai dodged, rolling to the side, kicking out even as he landed, catching Dallas in the ribs.
Even as he fell, Dallas drew his weapons and opened fire as Senkai created a twister around him. The bullets flew off, their target unharmed. Senkai charged at Dallas as Dante and Sef untangled.
Senkai leapt over Sef, going instead for Dante, but Sef lifted his staff up into the air from the ground which tripped Senkai midair. Senkai tumbled on the ground as a result, and Dallas got up and raised his Uzi again. He fired off several shots, but Senkai got up before the shots reached him. Refusing to give up, Dallas fired again at the running form of Senkai, and this time hit Senkai in the right arm three times. Dallas smiled in satisfaction. Dallas ran after Senkai, with Sef and Dante following right after him.
Senkai purposely slowed down so that Dallas quickly caught up to him. Right when Dallas caught up to Senkai, he jumped in the air as Dallas went under him. Senkai brought his feet down hard upon Dallas and Dallas hit the ground. Senkai landed, and immediately did a roundhouse kick which landed on both Sef and Dante and sent them flying back.
Sef got up right away, and Senkai was already running at him. Sef smiled.
"How about a little ice?" He said, and he covered the ground Senkai was running on with ice. Senkai slipped and slid right towards Sef and Dante.
However, he was not at a loss. He created two twisters around his arms, which tore up the ice, sending shards of it into the air. The air pushed him upright, as he continued running at Sef and Dante, who had to cover their eyes to protect them from the ice.
Dallas rose, and in his anger began to fire at Senkai's back. The nimble fighter, merely leapt behind the blinded duo of Sef and Dante. Kicking them forward, they found themselves in a shower of bullets.
Dante, even with out his eyes, knew the bullets were coming. With his free hand he formed several symbols. All of these were created and finished in an instant. Throwing up his hand the bullets appeared to slow and stop. In fact, their energies were shifted, rearranged, crafted into something else. The bullets struck Sef and Dante but did little more than to cool them off.
Sekai slid and turned to pounce on his foes again. Dallas was no were to be seen, Sef was running on his left and Dante was right in his face...
Dante and Dallas had cooperated, surprisingly, too execute a Slash Shot. Dante wasted no time, for in truth, there was none to waste. Dante's broken katana hit Senkai before he realized it. The fighter proved skilled, in so much as he managed to shift his weight so the sword's partial blade hit his left arm.
Managing to find the footing to whip around, Dante fired his gun and re-holstered it all in one swift motion. Senkai created his sword and blocked the bullet. His victory was short lived as Sef finally reached him and smashed his staff into the wounded arm. Once again the towering fighter fell to the ground. His head had begun throbbing again, but whether it was Dante's kick again or a strong sense of frustration was unclear. His left arm, which had been cut twice and bashed with a staff, was beginning to feel fatigue. Recovering enough consciousness to create a twister Senaki brought up his right arm and threw Sef from him.
"Get ready round two is about to begin," muttered Dallas to himself as he prepared to fire from his cover.
Dante fused his swords together and readied to fight twisters with twisters.
In the Castle…
Watching the fighting in the safety of his castle, the looming figure wishes he was there. That much fun.
Of course, he still had plans for them. Death would simply not do. For some of them at least.
Hell….(Yes, the real Hell. Not Canada.)
Souls. Tons of souls. Some evil. Some malevolent. Few peaceful. None not caring. Sides to be picked. Armies were to be made.
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