The Journey of Jensen Ambrose

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Closed, PM or AIM me if you wish to join. Orphans already allowed in, as you and I discussed this on AIM.

“You sure about this?” Stephanie asked, her hand wishing to reach out and grab the man she loved and hold him tightly. Shuffling a bit in the closet, and tossing things out the enigmatic immortal, Jensen Ambrose, stood back up and glanced back to the woman sitting on his bed.

“Bout as sure as I am with most things,” Jensen assured her. She gave him a quiet stare, and he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “Look, it’s not easy for me to explain, but…I just feel like I have to do this.”

The thirteenth argument about Jensen’s sudden decision to wander the caves of Sei’s underground home had gone over as it usually did. Stephanie would be quiet and reserved, Jensen would be firm and gentle with his insistence. That lasted for all of three minutes, then the next phase of their arguments began.

Jensen turned back into the closet to find the new boots he had purchased for his trip when he felt a hard thwap on his back. He sighed audibly, rising to his full height and turning to see Stephanie with pillow in hand, her face scowled in incomprehensible rage for some reason. Jensen leaned his shoulder on the side of the closet frame, crossing his hands over his chest.

“You wanna wake up Azza again?” Jensen whispered hotly. Stephanie was about to reply, but decided to keep her mouth closed as she thought about their adopted daughter. Jensen looked to the female knight and lifted a hand to her shoulder, rubbing her softly before pulling her in. She wrapped her arms around his back and squeezed tightly.

“I’m just going to go out for a while, that’s all. I can’t keep cooped up in this stupid tomb for long. If I don’t stretch my legs once in awhile, I’ll go insane. Stop making me feel like it’s the end of the world for me.”

“I can’t get over the bad vibe I get every time you mention it. My gut tells me not to let you go, and my heart agrees. Rarely do the two ever agree, you know that!” she replied, looking up at him with a few tears. Jensen stroked her back gingerly, bringing one hand up to wipe her tears away with a soft smile.

“I’m immortal, Steph,” Jensen whispered. “Nothing is going to happen to me. Not now when I finally have something to live for.” Stephanie put her face into his chest, gripping him tightly. “This really isn’t that big of a deal, Stephanie,” Jensen continued. “And of all the half brained ideas I came up, this is certainly not the strangest.”

“You don’t get what it feels like…it’s like watching you go and somehow knowing you’re never going to return.” Jensen shrugged. That response got him a harsh slap across the face.

“Ah, now the Steph I love is showing. Hostile, aggressive reactions to everything I do.” he sassed. Stephanie looked to him with a scowl on her face, but it softened to a smile as she lifted up and kissed him. Jensen tentatively pushed her back. “Now you woke our daughter, so you have to put her back to bed.” Jensen said jerking his thumb towards the door.

They both looked to the tiny frame of Azza, their adopted daughter. It was the little girl that found the way to bridge the distant feelings Jensen and Stephanie had for each other together. Without Azza, Stephanie knew deep down Jensen wouldn’t be with her now. Both of them smiled to her, but she instead put on a frown.”

“Why do you have to go?” she asked. “I don’t understand! Are you not happy?” Jensen sighed. The one part about kids he hated was they were stupid. They didn’t understand adult things and he had little patience to explain it. Due to this fact, he had accidentally almost convinced his daughter that she should grow up to be a hooker. Stephanie gripped his hand and squeezed before walking over to Azza.

“Come on little trouble maker,” she pointed to Azza’s bedroom. “You were supposed to be pretending to sleep for another eight hours.” The girl shook her head and stood at the door with arms held open to bar passage.

“I don’t want dad to go!” she shouted. Stephanie looked back to Jensen, her expression agreeing with the kid. Jensen shrugged to the both of them as he returned to the closet, scrounging around for whatever he felt would be valuable.

As he lifted up he felt Stephanie’s arms wrap around his torso, and felt two tiny hands grip around his left leg.

“For gods sake, the world isn’t going to fucking end!” Jensen said irritably forcibly removing Stephanie’s hands. He then lifted his leg, Azza included, and shook violently until she let go falling on her butt. Both looked to him with longing. He rubbed the back of his head again sighing once more.

“Stop acting like this, both of you!” he ordered. “I’ll be back, I just want to take a simple little trip in the caves, and be by myself! It’s not hard a thing to comprehend. Nowhere in that blasted sentence, did I say I was going to go on some grand far fetched adventure!” Both still didn’t back down from him. “You know, if you two would just accept the fact I’m leaving for a bit, you wouldn’t have this whole problem of me leaving.”

Stephanie shook her head, and Azza mirrored her motions. “Fuck it, I tried being nice. I’m going, goodbye!” Jensen said in haste as he turned to the closet, grabbed a small over the shoulder duffle bag, and stepped into his boots without tying the laces. He walked towards the door and was pleased to notice they didn’t prevent him from leaving.

As he walked into the front room he stopped, turning around and seeing Stephanie holding Azza in her arms as they both looked to him. Jensen sighed before dropping the bag and turning around. “It’s going to be okay guys, you are seriously over reacting. Now get over here and give daddy a hug goodbye!” Stephanie lowered Azza and her feet swiftly carried her over, slamming her weight into the immortal as he hugged her tightly.

“You promise to return?” she whispered into his ear. Jensen rolled his eyes, but squeezed her tighter.

“I promise, kiddo,” Jensen kissed the top of her head and pushed away. “Listen to your mother while I’m out, you got it?” Jensen gave her a scrutinizing eye and she furiously nodded her head.

“Get to bed, Azza,” Stephanie said sternly. Azza nodded and ran down the hall into her room, shutting the door after whispering goodbye. The two knights stared at each other for a moment, and the awkward tension caused Jensen to cough lightly, turning his back to Stephanie and stopping down, grabbing his satchel. He lifted it up and overhead, looking at the door.

“Everything is going to be fine, Steph,” Jensen assured her. Stephanie nodded, smiling. He started to walk towards the door, but hesitated a moment. He was new to relationships, being rushed into one with Stephanie, and had little experience with dealing with these situations. His normally care free spirited demeanor and asshole like ways easily handled these situations. Now that he cared for something, leaving suddenly became even harder.

This was why Jensen felt he had to go. Something that defined who he was for a long, long time was about to change. He embraced the change, but he couldn’t let it happen without one last hurrah. He was Jensen Ambrose, known for his blunt, crude, jerk like demeanor. He would pick fights for the hell of it, he was racist against elves, and he despised Sei Orlouge for the fairy king he was. He thought about that and corrected himself. The, faggot, fairy king he was. Before he gave it all up to raise a daughter and explore his feelings with Stephanie, he wanted one more run, one last chance to be himself in one hundred percent Jensen enriched formulae! The Enigmatic Immortal’s last hurrah!

He clenched his fist and dropped his bag, turning quickly as he looked to the female knight. Without preamble Stephanie’s body collided with his, slamming them both into the door as they kissed passionately. He held her tightly, whispering in her ear as she let her tears flow onto his chest.

“You better come back,” she clung to him for support. Jensen gripped her nightgown tightly, bunching it up. “And hurry about it!”

“I promise I’ll return.”

“If you so much as look at another girl…”

“You’d never know I did it!” he teased.

“I love you.” Jensen waited a moment, looking into her eyes and smiling brightly.

“I love you too.” he said back. They kissed one last time, and when they broke off Jensen turned away from her. He felt Stephanie’s hands on his back, and one hand lifted to his pocket dropping something in it.

“My good luck charm to you. When you see it, remember you have to come home, okay?”

“This isn’t a big deal Stephanie,” Jensen repeated.

“Why do I feel like it is?” Jensen opened the door.

“Probably because it is…” he muttered walking down the hallways as he waved a hand behind him to his love. Stephanie leaned in the doorway, her hand reaching down as Azza peeked behind her leg. Her fingers meshed with the tiny girls white hair as she watched Jensen leave. Her heart ached to grab her war gear and run with him, to follow him, but she knew she couldn’t. She had to take care of their daughter. Jensen’s promise would have to do.

He kept his promises, she assured herself as she smiled to Azza, turning and softly shutting the door.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen’s boots rattled the debris underfoot as he walked along the graveled path of the lit hallways in Sei’s tomb. A soft, barely audible crunch filled the air with every step he took, a small indent of his foot left in his wake. The cavern like movement ways were sparse, a testament to the late hour of the night he was beginning his journey with. He was hoping not to wake his daughter, but that proved fruitless.

He had always gotten lost in these caverns to the base of the Ixian Knights. Jensen knew he wasn’t great with a sense of direction, but tonight he mapped his journey out with a skilled precision of a cat burglar before a big heist. He lifted his hand up and felt the cold jagged walls along his fingertips, smiling as he pondered what adventures he would get himself into. Several ideas took shape in his head, thinking of going to the land of Emprea and challenging the Six Heroes of the land. He heard a few of them had spunk, and one was a total brawler. That could prove interesting.

He also toyed with the idea of heading out to Lavinya, fighting the hordes of the undead that racked the land like a plague. It was in this land that spawned the deadly warrior of Seth Dahlios. Maybe, just maybe he could make it over there and challenge the boogey man himself to a fight. How Ta’gaz must be watering for a chance to fight him.

There was also an opportunity in visiting the lands where Sei had come from, where his other mystic family dwelt. Sei had humbled himself many times, talking of how they were far more powerful than even he. Jensen was intrigued in their fighting prowess, and even their knowledge for that matter. If Aislinn Orlouge was any indication of how wise some of their clan of mystics could be, he supposed he could learn a great deal.

Ideas spread like wildfire upon his brainwaves, his grin widening as he felt the shackles of parenthood drift off him and fall to the floor. He instinctively flexed his arms out, popping his shoulders and letting out a cat like yawn. He felt the joy of freedom invade his body like a spirit possessing him, invigorating his blood. Whatever path he took, he didn’t care, for all of them were equally entertaining, but more importantly was this:

He would be himself throughout the whole adventure. No kids to censor him, no Sei to stop him from speaking his mind, and no Stephanie to warn him about something he was about to do that fell into the “worst idea ever” category. This elation made him rise to his tip toes, darting around the hall as he moved swiftly and boisterously. He really was digging this idea now that he was away from the family.

At last he came upon a narrow tunnel, the lights of the main base hadn’t come out this far, and it seemed to be lit by lanterns. Most were out to conserve oil, but two at the mouth of the tunnel exit were lit, casting long dagger like shadows towards the home of Sei’s legendary army. Jensen moved down the hall, listening to two guards talk about some woman in the army that they found equally attractive. Her name was eluding him, but he did happen to know the names of the two guardians to Sei’s tomb in the wee hours of the night.

“Hey Jamie,” Jensen said lifting a hand up in greeting to the soldier. Jamie stopped his discussion with his partner, turning to look at the immortal. He smiled, waving a steel gauntlet up at him and relaxing his sword arm as he sheathed his weapon. Jensen turned to the other warrior and smiled with a friendly nod.

“Well, well!” the other soldier said exuberantly, getting up from leaning against the wall. “If it isn’t the enigmatic immortal himself, Jensen Ambrose. How the hell are you, you crazy sonouvabitch!” Jensen shrugged before stopping in front of the warriors, lowering his shoulder sack.

“Pell, well met!” Jensen put on a devilish smile. “I am about to embark on a journey, gentlemen, into Sei’s caves to get me nice and lost. If I happen to escape into daylight, I will then travel either to Emprea, Lavinya, or maybe visit our faggot fairy king’s home!” he joked.

Both soldiers laughed at the nickname Jensen gave to their lord, but quickly they remained quiet as Pell gulped, taking a step back and bowing low. Jensen, not sure what was happening made to turn when he felt a powerful rush of dread come over him. The air seemed to howl, but there was no sound. The light’s flickered, but there wasn’t the slightest breeze. Jensen felt goose bumps erupt across his arms and a feeling of loss ran through his system. He didn’t have to bother to finish turning around to know who had joined him on his Bo voyage.

“La-la-lady,” Jaime tried to say without letting his teeth chatter. The temperature seemed to drop into the artic degrees of the Salvarian climate. “Lady Remi!” Jaime forced out, shivering. The immortal rubbed his arms together, feeling a coldness emanate from behind him, and he turned fully to glare at the hazel orbs of Cassandra Remi.

“Shouldn’t you two be looking out for intruders instead of gawking like seagulls?” Cassandra spoke, her tone spiteful and crude. Pell and Jaime nodded once, answering her question by quickly turning around and moving a tad bit further into the great expanse of Sei’s tomb in the area that was yet to be explored.

“Well if it isn’t the late night blood sucker.” Jensen teased, feeling his blood boil to be near her. Common knowledge had denoted that Cassandra and Jensen were to souls that never once got along. Jensen had fully slapped her on the face when she had made insults to his daughter, Azza. Though she had yet to retaliate, her presence had become a ritual of timing that always happened at the worst moments when Jensen wished with all his being to not see her.

“I am not a vampire, Mr. Ambrose.” Cassandra giggled, and it was a silky, smooth mirth that chilled his bones with pleasure and revulsion. The knight stood his ground as he lowered himself and picked up his satchel, resting his other hand on a throwing glaive. In return she flashed a toothy smile, a hidden desire to kill masked in her pleasantry. He noticed her hand had inched its way to a knife of her own.

The stalemate was growing the tension in the room, and Jensen felt he was ready to snap. The shadows seemed to taunt him as they stood behind her, a shadowy man like form appearing to stand behind her own shadow. At last, before he made a move, Cassandra turned on her heel.

“I merely came to wish you goodbye.” Cassandra spoke as if this was a natural occurrence. Jensen eyed her with suspicion before he watched her leave. “In the event something…shall we say, drastic,” she turned her head and smiled to him vilely. “Should happen? I would terribly regret not saying goodbye.” she faked her concern before she laughed wildly, her cries of joviality echoing down the halls sending chills down the immortals spine.

After she left Jensen sighed heavily, turning to the two soldiers. Angrily he stamped his feet forward, leaving deep impressions in the dirt as he walked into the uncharted territory of Sei’s tomb. His mind was raked with different things he wanted to do to the Gisela Repear, and not a single one of them was pleasant in least.

“Hey, uh, Jensen?” Pell called out. The immortal stopped for a second turning to the guys. “Take care now! Unlike her, we do care if something happened to you. We’ll never forget the way you saved our ass from William Arcus!”

“And the noodle incident,” Jaime added with a sly smile. Jensen slapped himself on the forehead, the sound repeating itself into the awaiting darkness.

“First off, the noodle incident is the Cat’s fault, alright!” he shouted angrily, wishing everyone would forget that rather embarrassing moment of his life. “And second off, seriously. Everyone better stop worrying about me! I’m getting rather sick of it!” He adjusted his satchel and walked into the darkness, confident in his steps.

When the immortal was out of earshot Pell turned to Jamie.

“Think we’ll see him again?” Jamie nodded softly.

“I think so, bastard is immortal after all. Strange weather tonight…I wonder if he knew a storm was coming?” Pell shrugged back as the two resumed their duties before growing bored and comparing Cassandra Remi’s butt to other members of the Ixian Knights.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

The immortal’s eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly, seeing the edges of walls, the shapes of what had to be rocks, and felt his way forward when he hit an open room. A few times he got caught in thick spider webs, spitting and slashing them down as he trudged forwards. He was silently praying that no giant homeowners would come to get him.

It was well into the night, about two hours after he started his adventure, that he realized a storm was hitting the cave. Every so often he would run into a fountain, hand carved out of the wall where drips of the water from above seemed to pool. It made the immortal ponder just who would have done all this, but he concluded whoever had was either dead, or cleared out long ago. For all he knew it could have been forged by refugees from the demon wars.

He had stopped to fill his water container, as well as his spare. The water in his current canteen was warm and he was happier with the cooler liquid offered by the sky. As lightening cascaded down and struck a tree above him, the immortal would roll his eyes and taunt the elements with a ‘yeah-yeah, I heard you’ taunt, wondering if Azza was okay. He was worried she would be scared without her dad there to protect her from the thunder storm, but he immediately dismissed his notions. Stephanie would be there to care for her, and he didn’t want to coddle the girl anyway.

At least, he didn’t want to baby her until the thought about holding her in his arms invaded his mind. A feeling of homesickness flooded his heart, and he used all his will power to stay put instead of run back. He reminded himself that this was the reason he was leaving them for a while. He drank a bit from his canteen, refilled it, and stepped forward again.

Some rare locations let the light from outside peek though, like small windows to the outside world. Whenever lightening flashed Jensen was able to see the pathway with clear eyes. He used these brief moments to get an idea of the terrain, and he hopped over a few rocks moving onwards.

He was prepared for anything, but was getting annoyed he had yet to run into some kind of monster, or some sort of treasure that was lost to time. He had lost track of how long he was gone, but he was sure it was getting to be past two. Sighing to himself he stopped, taking a small sip of water from a fountain before looking ahead.

What he saw made his heart lurch in excitement.

Two yellow eyes, full and gem like, peered at him from afar. Shortly a few other eyes looked to him, all bright yellow. He observed them for a moment, seeing what they were, and at last lightening struck overhead, illuminating the room. Their bodies were stark black, a black deeper than the shadows themselves. There were six of them, all looking at him. They weren’t tall, maybe about as tall as his knees, and they had small antennae, like ants. They seemed to look back and forth to each other, before one screeched in some garbled language he couldn’t understand.

Lifting up his punch dagger he got ready, seeing them all bound forwards towards him with the grace of a fat housecat pouncing food. He felt his blood sing in his veins, and he listened to his soul give out a beat in his mind. He began to dance in place, causing three of them to fall back while the other three charged forwards.

The immortal swept outwards in a high sweep, taking one in the side. Though they had black bodies, they felt like any other fleshy object he hit before. Even it’s already bulging eyes seemed to grow wider as he pounded it with his foot, knocking it into a wall where it stumbled around awkwardly.

He moved in with his twirl, slashing with blade held out missing the other two as he back peddled and taunted them to come for him. He bounded back two more steps before jumping up, gracefully putting his weapon on his belt as he landed on a rock. Without much thought he lept forwards again, turning his body and twirling his legs out like a full circle.

Jensen screamed in laughter as he used his spin kick overdrive, landing his three cartwheel kicks square on the creatures face lifting it up into the air with ease. When he landed his kicks he brought his hands out and grabbed the creature by it’s head, tossing it off to the side like it were nothing.

That was about the last thing Jensen recalled doing before getting his ass kicked.

The three he had neglected to keep track of in the back had either formed into one, or retreated for reinforcements, but what stood before Jensen was a creature a head shorter than he, it’s antennas like longhorns that arched behind it’s back. It had the same yellow eyes and black body, but it was humanoid in shape.

With a mocking chuckle it titled downwards before lifting up in a violent flash kick, hitting the immortal square in the jaw. He bounced back, ready to retaliate, but the creature was already doing another flash kick, similar to how Jensen did his spin kick overdrive. The effect was devastating, hitting him with the full force of what felt like a boulder. He drunkenly moved backwards, feeling two tiny creatures jump and grab his arms. He roared to free himself, but the bigger brother gut punched him and kneed the knight in the face.

The immortal grunted loudly, using all his strength to fight back as he lifted himself up despite three of the little creatures hopping on his back. He seethed his frustrations, shaking back and forth like a wet dog. “Get off of me!” Jensen cried out as he at last was free of them. He brought his hands before his face, blocking a fierce jump kick by the tallest of the creatures, coming back at it with a series of punches and kicks all to the rhythm of his beat. He connected with a few solid hits, but what caught him off guard was it’s escape plan, merely melting into the ground before moving along the floor away. He wouldn’t have even seen it do this if it weren’t for the flash of lightening.

The creature looked to it’s brethren when it reformed, before letting out a gush of garbled words. Quickly it turned running down the hall, it’s little brothers following after it. Jensen chased them, his blood demanding he did so. His feet pounded the earth as he gave chase, hearing their laughter as he ran. Just when he thought he was gaining on them they sprinted ahead, just when he was about to stop pursuing them they were mere inches before his outstretched fingers. He knew he could catch them, he just had to be smart about it.

He feigned slowing down, and when the beasts were mere inches away he jumped forwards, body spreading eagle as he tried to grip them. He managed to grip the horns of the biggest one, and he tugged him to the earth. When he felt like he would land he released the creature, preparing to pull a knife out and stab it in the eye, but he found himself only falling.

Wind seemed to pick up speed as the immortal fell. He could feel the flap of his trench coat whip behind him, his hair raising out as he half closed his eyes. He felt his arms sprawling out to latch onto something, but he fell. He couldn’t stop falling, and no matter how much he tried to scream no sound would come out.

As he turned and free fell, giving his body up to the fall realizing he was going to die, a bright while illumination flashed before him. The chasm he thought he was in had no walls, save for eternal darkness similar to the creatures. Below him he felt a warmth and glowing rainbow of colors. As he titled himself to observe this he narrowed his eyes in wonder.

In what appeared to be a stained glass window the size of a lake was the unmistakable picture of Jensen, eyes closed clutching onto what he assumed was a sword he had never seen before. He was wearing his modified trench coat, and the expression on his painted face was of somber reminiscing, the same face he had the day he buried his three friends from his childhood.

Behind him was another man in a trench coat, but he was hooded and had his back to the immortal. He was also holding the pommel of the sword in Jensen’s painted hands, an aura of darkness surrounding him only being canceled out by Jensen’s light. Confused as all hell he noticed the image was getting larger and larger until he came to the conclusion he was going to slam into it like and make a nice paste on the painting.

He braced himself for his coming death, but as he fell through he heard the sound of a thousand mirrors breaking, each one distinct yet similar in their own ways. He barreled through the glass painting, screaming at last with sound as he floundered about to stop his insane free fall.

He looked up at the glass he fell through, and his eyes widened in more confusion, seeing that there was no hole in the image. In this image, he saw the hooded trench coat man standing in the fore of the picture, Jensen’s immortal image had it’s back to the man, and both were holding the same sword. The face he couldn’t make out, but he saw a somber set of lips, pale and uninviting as if they never once held warmth within them.

“Where the hell am I?” Jensen cried out to the void.

Every journey begins with but a single step…

Will you take another path, if you knew where the path you walked before will lead?

Will you take the path less taken?

Will you journey down roads that are safe, and avoid the ones that are full of danger?

The hardest choice one can make in life is which path will they take…

A journey begins with but a single step…

As he fell through the blackness Jensen Ambrose felt his blood settle down and his heart steady. His mind quieted and he closed his eyes, relaxing himself as he journeyed down the pit.

With the first step taken the journey of Jensen Ambrose had begun.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen softly opened his eyes feeling nausea grip his stomach and head. He turned on his side when he realized he was resting on his back, and let the spasms of debate to puke or not settle. It was still night, that much he was certain, but it wasn’t nearly as dark as it should have been. He was outside, and the sensations of wind, grass, and light raindrops cleared his frazzled mind.

Just what the hell happened to me? the immortal thought dismally as he pushed himself up, gripping the dirt between his fingers and focusing on the squishy sensation to realign his body. He teetered a bit, feeling the world spinning as he touched a ginger hand to his head, softly rubbing his temple before groaning and standing to his full height.

He observed the surrounding area, seeing a forest behind him, a road not a arms length away from him to his front. A ruin was down the road, a shattered broken abode that seemed to be burnt to ashes and left to rot for eternity. He stepped onto the road, letting the rain splash his face as he peered intently at a small sign that was also destroyed. It looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it exactly in his memories.

The knight recapped his thoughts, thinking of the situation to better determine just what the hell he should be doing. He was in Sei’s cave, and then he was attacked, then he fell, and now he was outside in the rain. Thinking a bit more he pondered why he was outside, and where he fell, but with no answers presenting themselves and no wild theories to even draw in his mind the immortal shrugged figuring he would determine where he was first.

Settled on a plan of action he walked down the road, feeling the sludge cake his boots as his modified trench coat dripped the mud off the edges as it draped behind him. He looked upon himself and realized he lost his knapsack, his throwing daggers and even his punch knife. All he had was two throwing glaives. Not the best of items, but it was something in the least.

As he reached the edge of the road where the ruin was located he stopped at the sign and tried his best to make out the faded letters. The damage he guessed happened about three, maybe for years ago, but that was just a hunch. He was never really good at telling how long ago things happened. Being immortal usually led him to care little for time and how it affected the rest of the world.

He wiped his hand on the side, removing some debris and layers of dust and dried mud that somehow escaped the wrath of the storm. It wasn’t much but it did aid in him reading the sign. His finger edged out the lines of the lettering, and slowly he traced his hand around the letters. As he was in the middle of figuring out what it was a feeling in his gut alerted him that he had definitely been at this place before. Before he could figure out what the sign said he heard something move in the brush on the opposite side of the road.

Quickly his hands moved to his throwing glaives, eyes set out as he moved them like a robot scanning the terrain quickly. Nothing. He walked away from the sign towards where the noise came from and he hacked the blade against the brush, looking to see if footprints were left behind. Nothing.

“Strange weather we’re having…” he muttered to himself, looking back at the burnt building. Something about it nagged the immortal, and he walked back to the raised steps of the porch. Jensen’s boots creaked the rotted wood and a thrill of terror ran down his spine as he tapped on the door twice. The wood groaned, fell backwards, and with a slam the inside of the building was open to the immortal. Most of the ceiling was burnt away, leaving large patches of holes where the rain left puddles, and the covered areas were leaking badly. He touched his fingers along the wall, feeling moss and mildew along the boards. He wiped his hand on his jacket, observing the discarded pictures that were pinned to the wall with rusty nails. He couldn’t make out most of them, some far to wet and ruined, but there was one picture that survived the worst of time.

He lifted his fingers and touched the paper, feeling the parchments years of experience behind it as he observed the drawing lovingly displayed. The details were crude, as if done by a child’s hand of a sun, a rainbow, and a little girl with two adults holding her hand. They had a brick house, which had a tree and a swing, with smoke coming out of the chimney. Jensen felt a fireplace like warmth emanating from the picture, and he ripped it off the wall, stowing the drawing in his inner pocket of his jacket. His chilled bones seemed to find comfort as the cold no longer bothered him.

Jensen turned his head quickly, hearing something rustle down the hallways. He rotated the glaives in his hands, prepping them for a moments notice as he walked quietly down the halls. Before he thought he was hearing things, now the knight was positive something was stalking him. His foot slipped forwards, and he twirled looking down the hallway with weapons armed and ready. Nothing.

The immortal turned around, frustrated and angry that he was seeing things only to look into the yellow eyes of a jet black creature. He hadn’t a moment to scream before it punched him in the gut, kneeing him in the face and charging forward with shoulder held low.

“Not so fast,” the immortal wheezed, jumping up and spinning in the air, fist extended out as it caught the creature off guard scoring a it on it’s jaw and taking the beast up with it. They collided in air, Jensen’s twisting mass pushing it away as he landed back down on one knee, drawing up and bringing both arms across his chest letting loose his two throwing weapons.

The black creature bounced on the ground and rolled up, hands darting upwards and pushing one glaive away, but the other struck home as it screamed out in pain clutching its chest where the weapon landed. It pulled the glaive out, dropping it to the floor before giving caution to the wind for a full fledged retreat.

Jensen chased after it, scooping low and grabbing his armaments on the go as he rounded the corner, his muddy boots slipping on the floor causing him trip and run into the side of a wall nearly knocking the whole thing down. Screaming with laughter Jensen brought himself up again, fully sprinting ahead as the beast turned to look behind it self. As if mocking the immortal it stopped, turned and bowed low, its body slowly melting into the ground before he could reach. As one revolting pool of black ooze it slithered away rather quickly outside into the storm chanting its own cries of mirth at the expense of the knight.

The immortal flew out of the building, hopping off the porch onto the muddied ground and sliding as he turned in circles trying to find the beast, his breaths like a ragged predator on a hunt. He felt his blood sing to him and he laughed to the moon as he turned on the spot for a full turn, fist lifting outwards and punching a small black creature in the head. It was far shorter than the one he encountered, and its tiny antennae wiggled around as it rubbed its face in pain. Though it had no facial features, and resembled more of a tiny dark plushy doll, it hollered out and Jensen found himself surrounded by five of the creatures.

He began to run his arms in rhythmic patterns, drawing a line in the mud with his foot in a half circle and felt one with the beat in his soul. When they all attacked him at once he darted past one, tripped another, hand pushing away a third before he was tackled to the ground and dog piled. He fought pushing one off, slamming his fist into another, and even managed a weak head butt on a third. Angrily he snarled his rage, but he couldn’t seem to escape them as the creatures kept returning with a zealous nature.

He screamed for help, for something or someone to do something, and with careful use of elbows he managed to lift himself up to his arms as the six creatures tried to drag him down. He repulsed them with pure willpower, not giving into them as he fought with all his strength, but when the man sized creature came to help his smaller brothers Jensen felt his time coming up.

The larger beast slammed the heel of its shadowy foot down upon Jensen’s skull, and he ate the mud with a sharp cry of agony. Before he could react they all slammed his face into the mud. He barely managed to get in a few tortured breaths of air before getting his face submerged again.

When he felt his life starting to fade the immortal heard a shrill cry of battle, followed by the weight on his back lighten.

[orphans]

There was a sickening cry from one of the smaller shadow creatures following the battle cry. It had been lifted clear off Jensen’s back by a thrown spear impaling its chest. At once, the larger one roared out through its featureless face, gave another stomp to ensure Jensen was sucking mud, then turned to see two charging figures closing in on it and its brethren.

The larger creature narrowed its eyes at the oncoming pair. They were slightly taller than it. The human in front was charging with something large held behind. It was female with wild, white hair fluttering in the air. Her garb itself was a collection of armor pieces scavenged together. Her companion, with his similar attire, had dark brown hair and ran a few steps slower with another throwing spear. With a shout, he hurled it towards the larger shadow creature. The monstrosity only gave a defiant roar and deflected it away with a swipe, embedding it into a nearby stump.

The five remaining shadow creatures each gave a cry and charged the pair. The woman gave her battle cry once more, her muscles straining against the handle of a massive two hander. With a screech, the center creature pin wheeled off to the side after the blunt blade crunched into its head. Two leapt up to tackle the woman down, but upon grasping onto her shoulders, the loose pieces of her armor broke loose.

The last two made a straight line for her companion. Out of spears, he feigned difficulty in drawing his sword with his left hand. As the two closed in on him, one picked up speed and leapt at him. In a single movement, the man slid a dagger from his sleeve and thrust it through one of the creature’s yellow eyes. Its partner froze only for a moment before leaping and managing to tackle him to the muddy ground. The man only grabbed onto an antenna with his left hand and yanked violently. His right proceeded to punch at the creature’s eyes while it shrieked. “A little help?” the man shouted above the shrieking.

Fully aware that the larger brethren of the creature up be upon her soon, the woman turned heel and ran back towards her friend. On the way, she kicked the face of one of the smaller monsters that clutched onto a piece of her armor and sent it sprawling into the mud again. As she did, the other, also holding a piece of her armor, threw it and bounced it against something hard on her head. Skidding in the mud, she swung the sword and grinned in satisfaction as it collided with its tiny torso. When her sword stopped prematurely, the smile faded as she saw the larger brethren clutching her blunt blade.

“Fuck, you going to help me or not?!” The man screamed out as the creature he was struggled with planted a foot into his jaw.

“I’m busy Coyo,” was the woman’s reply. Thinking quickly, she dropped her end of the sword and saw the creature lurch forward with the weight. Quickly, she used the flat of the blade as a ramp and ran towards the head of the creature. When it too dropped the blade, the woman managed to kick off the makeshift ramp and connect into the creatures head with her boot. It stumbled back in surprise, but instead of being stunned, it grabbed hold of the woman’s ankle and threw her into a dilapidated fence.

There was a sudden death shriek from Coyo’s direction as he plunged a knife repeatedly into the creature he had been struggling with. A roar close to him brought his attention to the larger brethren charging him down. Unable to get up in time, a sharp pain shot through his side as the creature kicked his side with the sound of more than a few broken ribs accompanying it.

“Get the fuck away from him!” The woman screamed as she charged at its back. Instead of her sword, she had ripped up a fence post half her height. The large beast turned in time and blocked the rotten post with both its arms. As the shattered pieces filled the air, the woman drew a dagger with her left hand and stabbed down.

Again, the large beast blocked, but this time it managed to trip the woman onto the slippery earth. Straddling her, it held her hand with the dagger with both of its own and began twisting it toward her chest. The woman kicked her legs as she strained against the creature’s weight and brute strength.

“Right hand!” Coyo’s voice screamed out. By reflex, the woman struck out her right hand and felt the muddy grip of something slide up to it. Grabbing it, she allowed the creature its brief victory in piercing her chest as her right hand thrust the dagger through the center of its neck. The yellow eyes of the creature burned in rage as life ebbed out of its dark form.

Shoving the body off her, she stood up slowly before pulling the dagger from her chest. It had miraculously missed any vital organs, but that fact did little to ease the pain. Coyo limped his way over to her side after gathering a weapon or two quickly. He looked thoroughly annoyed before he spat out, “Remind me why the fuck we charged this group? They had a big un, you saw that.”

Coughing up a bit of blood, the woman spat it out and walked over to Jensen’s body, with some difficulty, then nudged it with a boot. “He was the reason.”

“Wonderful, we saved a guy who drowned in mud.” Coyo chuckled darkly as he moved about to gather their equipment together again.

Crouching down, the woman rolled Jensen over to begin scavenging when she saw his chest rise faintly. “Hey, look at that! He’s still breathing.”

“Fuck…” Coyo mumbled as he returned.

“Yeah… we can’t scavenge from someone still alive.”

Coyo scoffed and slapped her in the back of the head. “No you moron, we need to get the fuck out of here. We’re missing a body.”

“Probably the one I kicked.” Picking Jensen up in a fireman’s carry, she grunted before suddenly giving a slight scream. “Shit, the hell’s he wearing? Needles?”

“He’s on your wings.”

“Right… those…fuck…” Grabbing onto the handle of her massive sword as thunder rolled across the sky, she pointed with a finger. “The rain’ll cover our tracks back to camp.”

Coyo snorted. “Yeah, and that plow you drag will make a canal right to us, Azza.”

The two said nothing for a while as the rain began to pour. Camp for the two was off the beaten path, right under a rocky overhang in the forest. Without much grace, Azza dropped Jensen like a sack of potatoes onto her bedding. Coyo stared for a moment and shook his head. “What?”

“Planning on sleeping with him?” Coyo asked with a stupid grin. Azza didn’t answer immediately as she looked at Jensen.

When she finally was ready to say something, she looked to Coyo with a stupid smile of her own. “How’s your broken ribs?”

“… fuck you and your regeneration Azza.”

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen’s vision blurred as he softly felt a tip tap sound in his ears, his face getting splashed by tiny droplets. His immortal body purged the mud in his lungs out, and with a violent wretch the knight turned to the side, and vomited the inside of his body out it seemed. Both newcomers merely looked to him, mildly interested as he groaned loudly like a drunkard after a night of binging.

“Still want to sleep with that?” A voice muttered with a sly smile as Jensen turned to greet them. The white haired woman and her companion looked down upon him like vultures, seeing if he was worth scavenging or not. He observed their chests, how they rise and fell, and knew they were tired. Last thing he remembered was being attacked and drowned by the creatures of darkness. He scanned the area.

“They’re all gone, mister.” the woman said. “Coyo and I took em out.” Jensen nodded dumbly, not knowing what else to do. He rested his head back and took in a deep breath. It felt labored and his heart was ready to burst. He began to think he was done with his adventure and wanted to go home.

“What the fuck you doing out this deep into the land?” Coyo asked, taking a leadership role as his hands gripped his daggers defensively and pointed one at the immortal. Jensen saw the impending threat and with a snarl of exhaustion he swatted the dagger away. Coyos muddy, wet fingers lost their grip and the weapon flew out to be lost forever in the storm.

“Don’t point knives at people, it’s impolite,” Jensen shifted his weight and tried to sit up, finding pain in his back and his lungs stressing to their limits. When he felt his feet planted firmly on the ground he saw both warriors before him draw new weapons on him. “I won’t say it again,” Jensen warned them with a dark piercing eye. “What are you guys, sixteen? Fourteen?” he asked, shouting questions far faster than they could answer. It was a trick from being in the Knights of Apocalypse. If ever at a standoff with hostile strangers, get them to be confused. Easiest way to do that was ask questions.

“We’re not kids,” the woman said darkly, lifting a dull sword to his chest. “And you’d think that after we saved your ass you’d be more polite.” Jensen touched a finger to the blade, realizing it wasn’t sharp at all, and jerked it away from his heaving chest. The pain was starting to cloud his vision in the corners of his eyes. He fell to one knee, breathing heavy as he coughed again, a burning sensation erupting in his chest like a fire pit. More blood and mud came up as well as bile, and the two saviors took a step back away from him.

“We saved this idiot for nothing,” Coyo snarled. “He’s just a jackass. Come on Az, let’s split.” The girl nodded leaving the immortal, but as she took a few steps away she heard a soft voice, a name spoken with such gentleness and confusion that it demanded she turn and give the speaker her full attention.

“Azza?” Jensen looked to her and read her eyes, but he wasn’t connecting with her. She seemed to be doing the same, but no matter how hard the two tired, he wasn’t clicking with her. As familiar as he felt she was, she wasn’t in his memories. His little Azza was a tiny kid, twelve years old and still adorable and innocent. This girl, though she had similar white hair that was much longer, had a face of experience only pain and tragedy could bring. A warming sensation gripped the side of his body, and he felt the picture he stashed in his jacket pulsing.

He put his hand into the jacket pocket, pulled the picture out and looked to it. This time he studied everything. Every scrap of detail on the picture as she looked to him with confusion, Coyo urging her to just leave the nutcase be. As his eyes scanned frantically he at last found something, so faded and warn out he had missed it the first time and something in his mind clicked at last. Looking back at the girl he saw he was looking into the eyes of his adopted daughter.

Jensen watched his little girl go after the staring contest, seeing something sinister and dark in her place. This girl wasn’t Jensen’s little Azza. He shook his head, looked back down at the crumbled picture, and pocketed it again. Then with a sigh he chased after the two warriors. They gave him a suspicious look as they stopped, giving him challenging stares.

“It’s been a long, long night,” Jensen admitted. “Probably for you both as well. Tension and tempers are flaring. I apologize for whatever I did to offend you guys, and if you can give me a place to stay, I’d appreciate it.”

“Oh look,” Coyo said to Azza with a huff of arrogance. “Now the fucker wants something, so now we are equals to him.” Azza shook her head walking forward without Jensen or Coyo. Jensen nodded, lifting out a throwing glaive and offering to the man.

“In exchange for what I made you lose.” Jensen said peacefully, the rain slicking down his ears and the side of his face. He was soaked to the bone, his jacket offering little in terms of protection. He was starting to feel his weary bones rattle and at last he realized he was shivering. Coyo looked at the glaive and then back to Jensen.

“You got another on your belt,” Coyo pointed to it. Jensen knew what the boy was asking. He wanted them both. Jensen wasn’t prepared to give up everything he had.

“It’s my only defensive weapon I have left. If you take that all I’ll have is my hands and feet.” Jensen was practically begging this person to just take what he had. Coyo shrugged walking off. Jensen sighed angrily, but pocketed the one glaive tossing the other so it was stuck in deep into one of his spears shafts. Coyo turned to him with wide eyes, Azza lifting her hand to her sword.

“Take what I took from you, at the least.” Jensen mumbled as he rubbed the back of his moppy head. The rain slicked through his fingers like grease and he observed the surroundings for a place to stay. The boy looked to the weapon and then back to Jensen before shrugging. Azza observed Jensen a bit more then looked to Coyo. It seemed they had a silent conversation with the boy shrugging in a very angry manner, walking off. Azza stepped forward towards Jensen calmly.

“Come on, I’ll let you spend the night in my tent, then in the morning after breakfast you’re gone.” Jensen looked to Azza in a fatherly way before shaking his head. This wasn’t his daughter, no matter how badly he wished it was.

“Heh, not the first time a woman’s told me that…” Jensen joked. Azza let a small smirk cover her lips as the immortal walked with her side by side. They said nothing in the damp weather, all three keeping to themselves. The rain never let up, not even for a moment as the mud sloshed around their feet. He noticed Azza was shivering worse than he was, and the knight lifted his coat off and draped it across her shoulders. She squeezed the jacket tight, but said nothing.

Now Jensen was freezing. He hadn’t realized just how much the jacket was protecting him from the elements, and as he observed Coyo he concluded that if this place wasn’t nearby soon, they were dead. Scanning the surrounding area was all Jensen could do. The sights became familiar, and he realized that he was in Corone, in Radansath. The moon that observed him from the sky was blocked by a cloud that Jensen knew deep down wasn’t natural. It had a purplish twinge to it, and electric blue streaks of lightening flashed around the edges, before burning out in a dull predatory red. As he looked around the area he found similar clouds all around him in different areas.

“What are those?” Jensen asked. Coyo turned back to him and then looked to the clouds.

“You’re kidding me?” he asked. “They whomp you somethin fierce, didn’t they?” he spoke smacking his head for dramatic effect. “Maybe the mud got in your head and scrubbed your brain. Everyone knows what those are!”

Jensen merely shrugged. “I suppose they did, asshat. Now tell me what the hell they are.” Coyo took a double look at Jensen before shrugging figuring what the hell.

“They are Cloud’s of Darkness,” he stated plainly. “Gates to the void. Not human gates either.”

“What are you babbling about?” Jensen said irritably.

“Perhaps we can answer that?” a voice spoke from behind them, causing all three to turn as one with weapons armed.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen’s fingers were slipping on the grip of his weapon, and he felt Azza’s eyes scan the newcomers quickly before her agitation seemed to simmer down. She was upset, but not threatened by what they saw. Coyo to seemed to lower his weapons, but he didn’t drop the hostility. Jensen looked to the newcomers and he found out why, though for reasons entirely unique to himself.

Standing in the rain above them on a grassy knoll were two woman. One had raven black hair, the other had fire red. Both had the same mystical like gleaming blue eyes that hid in them a wisdom that belied their age. Jensen observed the red head, and with a sigh of relief he walked forward.

“Oh by the Thaynes, Aislinn, it’s you.” Jensen said shaking his head with a chuckle. When he approached them the black haired girl took her hand and slapped Jensen across the cheek forcing him back.

“You stay away from my sister, cretin,” the woman spoke with a nobles arrogance. Aislinn sheepishly looked to the other woman before back at Jensen, then with a small smile she waved to him with four fingers like a schoolgirl with a crush. Jensen looked to Aislinn, knowing full well that action was out of character for the girl and looked back to the ringleader.

“Don’t know you sugar tits,” Jensen said haphazardly. “And by your arrogant tone I’m assuming I don’t care much either. Now you mentioned your Aislinn’s sister?” The woman lifted her umbrella and arced it so the rain wasn’t touching her elegant dress. This showed him more of her elegant hair, noting that she had two pinups in her hair that looked strangely familiar to him, like cat ears. He had noted the pommel was in the shape of a tiny black cat.

“My name, you uncouth rouge, is,”

Click!

“Felicity?” Jensen blurted in shock. “Felicity Orlouge?” All eyes fell on Jensen. “Aren’t you supposed to be a fuzz ball?” he asked rubbing the back of his head. “I mean, last I saw of you, you had four kitty legs, a kitty nose, and a kitty tail. When did you become a human?” Felicity’s eyes scanned the immortal like a cat would a toy. Then with a flick of her wrist Aislinn stepped forward and observed the knight.

“Do you know him?” Felicity asked Aislinn. She studied Jensen hard, then shook her head sadly.

“Nope, I sure don’t sis,” she concluded. “Though…if he’d like to stop by my room and formally get to know me I wouldn’t object…” she added winking to Jensen.

“Stop that!” Jensen and Felicity said as one. Jensen was freaking out now. First he met his daughter in a warrior princess mode, Felicity was no longer a human, and Aislinn…did Aislinn just make a flirtatious invitation for the horizontal humpty dumpty? He shook his head. Bad dream, bad dream!

“Well, this is rather awkward,” Felicity said moving things along. “I am curious to know why you have our names in your memory, but we have no recollection of you. Very strange.” Felicity titled her head and placed a hand under her chin in thought, trying to solve the mystery. Meanwhile, Coyo and Azza both shivered as they shuffled awkwardly.

“Look fuzz ball!” Jensen shouted angrily to her. While he knew Felicity as a cat it seemed her human form was still just as much as a bitch, just much more blatant about it. The woman eyed the immortal like he were an after thought. “I’m in Sei’s tomb, walking down the uncharted corridors, when I get attacked by these stupid black creatures. They had a big one beat the crap out of me, then I get in a shot and it runs off. I chase it, fall down some hole, scream like a girl, <Ya, I’m man enough to admit it!>, fall into the mud, wake up with half my shit missing, get jumped in a burned down building by those creatures that tried to drown me in mud. Meet my kid daughter who’s all grown up now, and then find you two with not a damn person recognizing who I am!”

Felicity looked to Jensen like he were an imbecile, while Coyo and Azza looked to Jensen with amused faces. He turned to them and his angry face snarled as he spoke.

“What’s so funny?”

“You think I’m your daughter?” Azza tried hard not to laugh in his face. Coyo was slapping his knee and laughing hard.

“Holy shit they really messed with your head!” Coyo feigned stomping a mud hole in Jensen using the splashing dirt to make his point. “They beat you so blue you think your Azza’s daddy?” The immortal looked to her, pleading her to believe him, but she just shook her head dismissing him without any care. Jensen felt a wave of hurt rush his heart and shatter it, looking back to Aislinn and Felicity.

“If you have a head injury I should check it out quickly!” Aislinn said excitedly. Jensen shook his head quickly, lifting a restraining hand, but it was unnecessary as Felicity restrained her herself. He had no clue what the hell was going on, but he did know one person in all of Althanas who would.

“I think you should see my Uncle Sei.” Felicity said reading his thoughts easily. Jensen nodded. The man had to know what was going on. He had to! Jensen nodded as Felicity turned to the other two warriors. “I suppose you urchins are going to die at this rate if you do not make it home. Come along, there is enough room in the caverns for you. We shall feed you and give you a place to stay for the night.”

“I need nothing from that Faggot Fairy King!” Azza shouted, a bit louder than she intended. Jensen looked to her with a grin, and she turned red around the cheeks. Aislinn looked to Felicity, but the woman merely shook her head.

“Then you shall take the help from me,” Felicity insisted. “I know your distaste for my uncle, Azza, but you and Coyo’s deaths will only serve to weaken the few protectors this land has.” Jensen turned curiously to Felicity as he heard her speak. Wasn’t protecting the land Sei’s job? She eyed the immortal before looking to them both. “Come along now. Let us not dally any longer. I am getting cold and I suppose my awaiting tea is not fairing any better.”

Azza looked to Coyo, and the boy nodded once. It seemed they didn’t like the idea, but the alternative wasn’t really a better option. Jensen sympathized with them. He hated the Orlouge’s as well. Very snobby or very no it all like. Especially Anita, Sei’s daughter. He pondered if she would recall him, or if he was in for a very weird adventure.

“Ou, ou!” Aislinn said cheerfully turning to Jensen. “I think you asked a question, about the Clouds of Darkness right?” Jensen nodded as she turned and walked over to him. Azza and Coyo marched up to Felicity, who sighed, spoke a few words to her umbrella, and the cap extended in size to cover the trio from the rain. Azza stubbornly stepped out of the range, preferring to walk in the rain than be sheltered by an Orlouge. Coyo, who’s bones were well past freezing, didn’t have such objections.

“Well, let’s see,” she said tapping a finger to her lower lip. “They are essentially the places where Echoes are spawned from!” Jensen lifted an eyebrow and she sheepishly smiled. “Oh right, don’t know anything about this world, huh?” Jensen gave an over exaggerated nod of his head. Aislinn wasn’t to bright in this world, he concluded with a chuckle. But damn did it not make her sexier…

He shook the thought away thinking of pink bunnies and his little girl. Satisfied with the distraction, he turned back to Aislinn. Felicity merely looked back to him, muttering the word ‘pervert’ under her breath loud enough for the immortal to here.

“So, anyways the Echoes are the creatures that you fought. Black little beasties with with big beady yellow eyes, and no iris or anything. Just black and beady yellow eyes!” she repeated, deepening her tone for dramatic effect. Jensen chuckled trying to keep calm, thinking how the Aislinn he knew would handle this situation. “Right, well, there are several types of Echoes in the world…” Aislinn said trialing off. Felicity nodded her head turning to look at Aislinn.

“Do you remember their designations, little sister?” Aislinn nodded, but it was confidently. “Start from the bottom and work your way up.” Felicity instructed. Aislinn snapped a salute and turned to Jensen smiling brightly.

Pink…fucking…bunnies… he thought again before smiling back. Then he let out a snigger of mirth. Cause…bunnies love to fu-

“I’d appreciate it, sir, if you kept your thoughts to yourself.” Felicity warned.

“Don’t go reading his mind then, you stupid fairy!” Azza said defensively. Jensen motioned for Aislinn to continue.

“So, the little guys, they are about as tall as your knee right? Well they are called Soldiers. Soldiers love to swarm people in vast numbers and bring them down. They communicate using their antenna and little cute guttural growls. It sounds like a cute Fallien desert cub!” Jensen didn’t agree with that, thinking how they tried to drown him. Things that tried to drown him didn’t’ seem to cute, but he shook his head.

“After them is the Astartes! Those are the ones that are a bit shorter than the average human. Yet they have the brains and brawn of a naturally gifted solider! They fight using talons and their feet, but some are known to sprout weapon limbs! Crazy rare, but does happen! Sharp as any dehlar weapon to! Cut right through Lady Azza’s armor like it were butter, SWOOSH!” She pantomimed the action, much to Azza’s annoyance.

“Swear….bimbo….blonde…” Azza was speaking very low to herself as she insulted Aislinn behind her back. If the mystic knew of this, she didn’t seem to care. Her eyes were drawn on Jensen with a fierce intensity of a crushing teenager. He smiled to her with a sly chuckle, wishing she’d stop being so damned cute.

“The Astartes are not just fighters though, there is actually two types of them! Legion Astartes, those are the elite warriors I suppose. They are the ones you fought! Think of them as shock troopers in an army. The other type is Custode Astarte. Those are like officers. They stand at full human height, but they are more magical intuitive Echoes. They use the power of the void, the energy they are made from. They also can control Solider Echoes.”

“There is also…uh…uh…”

“Legionnaires, dear sister,” Felicity said with a smile. Aislinn nodded happily.

“Oh, right! Legionnaires!” she smacked her head as if that was obvious. Jensen noted she hit a bit harder than she intended, red lines of embarrassment running down her face. He shook his head, wanting so bad to slap himself for her own silliness. This was awkward from the Aislinn he knew.

“Go on…” Jensen suggested. Aislinn smiled to him stepping closer.

“Legionnaires, those are the ones that you got to watchout for. They are crazy powerful super soliders of the void!” Felicity turned to Aislinn, stopping her movement as Aislinn sheepishly chuckled. “Well, okay maybe not super Soldiers…But they are really powerful! A Legionnaire is the equal to in power to our Uncle Sei, or Letho Ravenheart, or even Visla Eraclair and Godhand Striker! They are the toughest of the infantry, and they can control other Legion Astarte to their whims!” Felicity nodded in agreement, pleased she stopped her sister from getting off track.

“Lastly, there are titans. Um…”

“I think it’s not to hard for even a moron to figure out what a titan is.” Azza spat, Coyo nodding his head in agreement.

“Very good, Aislinn, you have done well. But now we are at the cave entrance. I will ask you all to please stay with me as once we all pass through the protective barriers, you cannot pass again without being killed. Precautions against the Echoes, mister…”

“Ambrose, Jensen Ambrose.” There was a slight twinge in everyone’s backs, and the immortal didn’t like that as he looked to them.

“Very well, Jensen Ambrose,” Felicity said quickly. “Please come with me, and I’ll take you to our Uncle Sei. Please be quiet, for he has suffered a great deals at the hands of the last war.” Jensen looked to her and his eyes widened.

“What war?” he asked softly, thinking of his duties to the Knights of Apocalypse and to the Ixian Knights. Everyone looked to him strangely again, and he felt more like an outcast than ever before.

“The war for the soul of Althanas.” Aislinn said solemnly. “The war we lost.”

[orphans]

“Way to be melodramatic there dimwit…” was all that Azza muttered, more to herself, as the uncomfortable silence that followed tickled a nerve her in back.

Aislinn noticed the remark, but didn’t seem to realize it was directed towards her. Felicity sighed to herself as she led the group to and through the entrance, while Coyo snickered. Jensen was at a loss how to react and just followed the group. He was still trying to get over the fact that everything was so off from what it was supposed to be. It might have even been a nice change, sans the dark looming clouds in the sky.

Once inside, the normally lit corridors of Sei’s Tomb were eerily dim. Everyone else but Jensen paid no attention to the lack of light and simply accepted it. Felicity was the first to notice Jensen trailing behind a little, staring about himself at the walls of the tunnel. “Please keep up, Jensen Ambrose.”

“Yeah yeah,” Jensen managed in a distracted fashion. Suddenly, he bumped into Azza’s back, slightly crushing her folded wings hidden under her curtain of hair.

“Hey, watch it!” The young lady was obviously irritated as she glanced to the man who claimed to be her father. Felicity only shook her head with another sigh.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to Lady Azza,” Aislinn piped up quickly, though she mumbled quickly after, “I wouldn’t have minded if it happened to me…”

Azza rolled her eyes at the woman before looking around the room they had all entered. It was open enough and much brighter than the tunnels. Square in shape, the room had obviously seen better days, as told by a broken mosaic on the floor. A few good benches lined the wall while some were splintered into pieces.

“Wait here please,” Felicity said to the group before walking off down another corridor connected to the room. Aislinn lingered a moment to stare at Jensen, before Felicity’s voice called for her to follow. Azza snorted in disgust at the prospect of waiting and looked about the room once more to distract herself.

With a groan, Coyo stumbled his way over to a bench and flopped down on his back. “Shit… might as well get some sleep. Who knows when they’ll be back.”

Usually, Azza would have agreed, but she was beginning to grow curious of the man. Sure, the claim to being her father was enough to get her hooked, but then being Jensen Ambrose? She didn’t know what to say to that.

“So…” she began, not entirely sure where she was trying to go with the conversation. “You’re Jensen Ambrose?”

“Yes.”

Moving to sit on a bench, she sank down and leaned back to look at Jensen once more. “So… if you were my father…. then I’d be Azza Ambrose?”

A smile flicked onto Jensen’s lips. If she believed him, it would be the first step in establishing a more friendly relationship. Unfortunately the smile didn’t linger much longer after what Azza was about to say.

“I’m guessing I got the horns and wings from mom?”

“Uh…” was all that Jensen could manage in a dumbstruck way. In the dim light of the tunnels and outside he didn't notice the pair of horns before, but now that she mentioned it, they were clear as day.

“And then for some reason I was left at the orphanage till all this shit happened, right?” Azza waved to the entirety of the cave and all over with a hand before eyeing him for a reaction.

“Not exactly, we adopted-” but Jensen never got to finish as Azza suddenly began to shake in laughter. “What?”

“Nothing… just… wow…” Gasping for breath, she managed to heave out, “The Great Jensen Ambrose adopting some weird looking kid from an orphanage.”

“What do you mean by Great?” Whether or not this was the Azza that was his child, she was beginning to get on his nerves as he stared her down. Mentally, when… if he got back, he’d make sure Azza behaved properly

Glaring back into Jensen’s eyes, she saw that he honestly did seem to be who he claimed, but lacked the knowledge of what it was associated with. That caused her to turn her eyes away with a mumble. “Nothing…” Not saying another word, she stood up without warning and began to take her armor off piece by piece.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jensen asked quickly in panic, glancing around for an escape route if needed. Either this was becoming a nightmare or something completely wrong was happening here.

Azza only gave him a confused look and said, “Drying myself off…? Don’t know about you, but wet clothes suck.”

“Do it later!”

Eyeing Jensen in a sort of disbelief, she heaved an exasperated breath out and shrugged. “Fine.” Grabbing a towel from her damp pack, she draped it over herself. “I guess I’ll wait then, dad.”

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen felt better knowing that his daughter wasn’t going to strip in front of him, a soft sigh of relief coming out his lips as he turned to the pathway that led to the inner hallways and networks of Sei’s tombs. He could hear Aislinn talking, her steps loud and obnoxious compared to the whisper soft pitter patter of Felicity.

They both entered the small area again, blankets, pillows and towels in hand as they gently put them on the table. Coyo wasted no time grabbing a warm blanket and pillow, tossing them into a corner and preparing for sleep as he dusted his face and hair with a towel. Jensen lifted down and attempted to give Azza a towel, but her hands already moved to intercept the gesture, grabbing one for herself in a grumpy manner. Jensen just let the girl be for the time being as he took off his jacket and wrapped a towel over his body.

“Our Uncle Sei will be joining us shortly,” Felicity said quietly. “Please mind you he hasn’t been himself lately.” She added as if this was something of important note. Jensen shrugged, always knowing the mystic was a rather estranged being.

“So this war,” Jensen mumbled rubbing the cotton over his face, feeling the watery beads drop from his hair onto his nose. He lifted his shirt up and over his head, letting the towel dry off his soaked body and Azza immediately began protesting.

“Oh, so you can strip but I can’t?” She chided, angry eyes boring tiny holes into his flesh. Jensen just ignored her as he gripped the towel in his fingers, rubbing the cotton viciously through his hair.

“Yep, father’s right,” The immortal mumbled as he looked up to Felicity. He mentally noted that Aislinn seemed rather excited to look upon his bare chest. He had a plethora of battle scars, and he was rather well toned for his size. Bulk didn’t touch his frame however. If anything Jensen looked more like a running athlete than a super power lifter.

He dropped the towel and gave the older Orlouge sister a concerned look. “The war,” he repeated. “What happened. Why is this place filled with those,” he struggled to remember the phrase. “Clouds of Darkness?” Felicity motioned for Jensen to sit as she paced forward, stooping low to pick up the discarded towels and neatly place them off on a chair. Azza grabbed her pillow and blanket and chucked it at Coyo with a sly smile as she made way over to him.

“The war was fought about four years back,” Felicity began. Jensen sat on a chair looking to her, his face blank as she noted he wasn’t really following. “I am beginning to hypothesize that you have suffered some form of brain damage,” she thought loudly. Azza began to crack up again as she started making jokes. Jensen ignored the brat.

“Look, as far as you are concerned I have no clue about anything in this world, so let’s start with the beginning,” Jensen proposed. Felicity nodded, accepting the terms as she sat down across from him, lifting her leg and crossing it over her other with poise and grace. Aislinn looked for a chair to sit on, and found there were none left. So instead she sat sheepishly on the floor next to her sister.

“Very well,” Felicity said in a soft voice. “This tale begins long ago. About six years ago. My Uncle, Sei, received the tablets of the prophecy about the invasion of Corone and the battle for the soul of Althanas. My Cousin Anita helped him translate those tablets and formed the Ixian Knights, and army to fight against this coming darkness. Well, during the time the Ixian Knight’s were growing, a secretive order made themselves public. This order was known as the Knights of Apocalypse,”

“Strange that,” Jensen said. “I happen to be a member of that order.”

“I would think not,” Felicity said sternly. “They were destroyed.” At this, Jensen’s eyes widened. “So was my Uncle’s Ixian Knights. The Knights of Apocalypse had fractured into two, those who supported the one they called the End Bringer, Xsenjen, and those who opposed them. The war was short, brutal, and resulted in the planets most significant event; the coming of the Echoes. That huge dark cloud in the sky is known as the Shroud of Shadows, from the Shroud falls the Clouds of Darkness, and from the clouds the Echoes are spawned. Xsenjen had learned to harness the power of that created these clouds and beings, a term we call the Void.”

“The Void’s power was very potent, and those that apposed Xsenjen were obliterated by his new army. The remnants joined up with the Ixian Knights, calling themselves the Ixian Knights of Apocalypse. Two years later the combined armies began the war against Xsenjen, known as the Second Great War after the Demon Wars of legend. Uncle Sei fought valiantly, utilizing every resource he had. Xsenjen’s sudden blitz attacks had been repelled, thwarted and stopped before they had chance to rise, but sadly there is a problem the races of civilization have that the Echoes do not.”

“Stamina,” Jensen voiced his thoughts. Felicity nodded to him solemnly.

“Indeed Mr. Ambrose,” Felicity looked behind into the hallway before turning back to Jensen. “The army eventually became tired, and the ability to be anywhere a Cloud of Darkness was became a fast growing problem that Sei had no counter for. A few of the Echoes could run amuck in a city, and when Sei at last could send someone to reinforce it would be to late. He was spread dangerously thin as it was, and Xsenjen continued to harry him on the boarders. It was only a matter of time for Sei’s army to be broken, and in a years worth of time it happened. A final battle took place in Corone, and Sei’s army was poorly prepared to fight against it. Though it cost Xsenjen dearly, Sei’s army was shattered and the prophecy was realized.”

Jensen felt a part of himself die to hear that. He didn’t know why, but being a member of the order designated to protect the world and learning it failed made him feel a guilt he didn’t know he should have. For whatever reason, he felt it was his fault. Felicity continued on as if this news was nothing compared to what came next.

“Two years passed on, Xsenjen’s armies being reinforced with the damnable Reven people who joined him. The Dahlios clan made a pact with the lord of the Void, aiding him in destroying Alerar and Salvar. They even marched upon the lands of the Thaynes and gods, corrupting them, or outright destroying them. While bastions like Knife’s Edge still stand, the nations were all but stripped of their power, nothing more than tiny drops in comparison to the ocean of power they once had. On the cusp of victory in Alerar, Xsenjen betrayed the Reven army, and now their land is steeped so deeply in the void’s clouds that the land is littered with Echoes that run wild. Only Lavinya seems to be untainted enough to have a civilization, the rulers ironically the Dahlios Clan. They survive, but by what means nobody knows, and frankly nobody cares.”

“Eventually my Uncle, Steppenwolf Orlouge, rallied together the Mystic race, the shattered remnants of the Ixian Knights and the fallen order of the Apocalypse; including making alliances with other nations. The lands of Salvar, Emprea, Fallien, Carthage, Dunland, and many others all formed together to form the Federation, a coalition of nations states and capitals with one government to rule their now humongous army. In the seas by Revan there is a nation known as the Black Archipelago, who became a technological powerhouse, for most of the Aleran scientists and engineers fled to the island nations. They created what is known as the Technocracy of the Brotherhood of Steel. The only nation with an airship armada making them a powerful force indeed.”

Felicity’s eyes seemed to glow as she spoke of this gathering, and Jensen could imagine it was a mighty, mighty army indeed. Aislinn as well seemed to be in awe of the memory she had, and for once Coyo and Azza didn’t seem to make much noise.

“He led the Army to the Bastion of the Apocalypse, Xsenjen’s lair. For several hours his army fought tooth and nail with the Void Lord’s armies. They killed many of Xsenjen’s generals, and Steppenwolf even managed to kill a titan on his own. Victory was being achieved one bloody inch at a time.” Her hand instinctively rose in triumph, recalling the events vividly in her mind. Yet there was a silence that could mean only one thing. Softly she lowered her hand, regaining her composure.

“But, history was to repeat itself,” Felicity spoke in a defeated tone. “Even with such a vast army the world has ever witnessed, it was not enough. Xsenjen’s forces were tireless. The line began to falter, Steppenwolf’s grand army began to fall back. A rout so bloody it turned the rocks and land red was forming and defeat was inevitable. Sei began to organize the retreat with the rest of his brothers and sisters. Steppenwolf had gone missing, last seen with three titans moving in upon him. Every step we took, Mr. Ambrose, a hundred warriors died! We were not just broken, we were not just shattered, we were annihilated!” Felicity was cold and unfeeling in her words, the truth all she could speak as a solitary tear formed in the corner of her eye.

“The battle of the Crimson Gulch was the name of that war. There was nothing left of it either. One apocalyptic battle for the Soul of Althanas, and we had lost. True, Xsenjen’s army did not seem to prosper from their victory, as we were all sure he had taken serious casualties, but what difference did it make? His power came from the void, and it didn’t seem to mind the losses. Now, Xsenjen sits upon his throne, planning something not even the gods know!”

The immortal sat in silence, thinking over what he just heard. Xsenjen had defeated two grand armies of legend, and it seemed his power didn’t even wane from the exertion. His blood boiled to think of the deeds and crimes Xsenjen had done, and for all the story was worth, Jensen didn’t even get a reason as to why. Why did Xsenjen do all this? World domination? Was that his goal? He couldn’t grasp why, and that made him curious. But it didn’t replace the desire to know why he was there. He still had a million answers and as Aislinn smiled to something unseen in the hallways he began to wonder if the newcomer would have the answers he sought.

[Silence Sei]

Even though he had remained hidden in the shadows, the flies around him indicated his presence. The smell, a sinister concoction of urine and spoiled milk, filled the nostrils of all in the room. As usual, Azza and Coyo appeared as though the raw stench was going to make them vomit. Felicity and Aislin,, however, had gotten used to the new aroma carried around by Sei Orlouge, former Hero of Radasanth.

Steppeing into the light, Sei swung at an imaginary enemy with all of his force. His eyes shifted around the group wearily. A hand stroked the thick orange beard he had grown since his humiliating defeat. His very breath was the most audible thing in the room. His gray gi was tattered and shredded, showing various helps of blue; scars from the previous wars. Where once a hero stood, now was the unfortunate son of stink.

"I do, I do I do-oo." Sei said with a grin, pointing towards Jensen's head as he moved his own back and forth like a pendelum. "I know what you're think....Ing! I know because I read minds! And yes, I know your answers too-oo!." Sei's personality had went from calm and collective to outright mental and unstable. Losing two wars in a war and seeing the things he had would do that to a person.

"He found the Door of Death he did! Xsenjen found it and used it's dark magics! Now the world is gone and it my faul.....ALT!" Sei threw his arms outwards as if it were something to be proud of. Aislinn walked over to her ill uncle and lowered his exclamatory pose. Sei brought his hands to his head and shook the growing orange hair, flakes of dandruff and lice falling out. This caused Aislinn to take a step back, and caused Coyo to actually puke.

"I know -why- he did it too. Read his mind when we locked in combat, I did! He won't ever tell, no, too proud. He found the door of death and now we're all doo....oomed!" Sei looked to his nieces and shook his head, his gaze quickly returning to Jensen. "Ask ewhat you need, you should, before the voices come again!" the Mystic writhed his fingers as he spoke, flames of shadow expelling themselves from his fingertips. One thing was for sure...

This was definately not the Avatar of Alerar, at least not anymore.

[orphans]

While Felicity recalled the grandeur of the two mighty armies of legend, both Azza and Coyo had fallen silent. It was not in reverence of the memory, or in respect for those that fought and died on the field. No, for them, the reality of the war was much different.

A flutter of worry passed Coyo as he watched Azza grip the edge of the bench, as if trying to hold back something foul deep down. Her knuckles had gone white while a splinter had pierced her hand somewhere. Red ran and dripped off with the water from her still damp arm as she raised the hand to cover her nose suddenly.

The stench that filled Azza’s senses, along with making her nauseated, made her blood boil. As the fairy faggot king, former would-be savior of Corone and Champion of Radasanth appeared in his well marinated glory; Azza listened and watched in loathing.

Coyo on the other hand, couldn’t focus on his hatred of the deranged, orange bearded, loon. If anything, he felt more pity for himself as his stomach twisted into knots from the stench. Silently, he wished that the crazed bastard would read his thoughts and bath once a month at least.

The shower of dandruff and lice from Sei Orlouge was the last straw for Coyo. Without warning, he heaved what little contents he had in his stomach, onto the floor, nearly splashing onto Azza’s boots.

Jerking her boots away, with an appalled look at Coyo, she admitted to herself that if she had anything in her own belly, she would have joined her friend in a crescendo of grotesque sounds.

But as Azza listened to the ramblings of Sei Orlouge, the invitation that the man left open was too sweet for the girl not to bite. Quietly, she mumbled softly so that even Coyo couldn’t hear, “Why didn’t you save us?”

“Did you say something, Lady Azza?” Felicity turned her cold eyes towards the young woman as she used a thumb to wipe away the single tear.

They glared at each other until Azza smirked and accepted the challenge. “Yeah, I said something. Said I’ve smelled prettier corpses than the faggot fairy king standing there.”

“You take that back!” Aislinn screamed as she stepped forward quickly to defend her Uncle Sei. “Can’t you see he’s already in enough pain?”

At this, Azza rose from her seat, the resentment burned clearly into her eyes. “Yeah? What the hell about us?” With a brash gesture, she waved to herself and Coyo.

“You mean his food? We can always give him more.” The smirk on Felicity’s face sent the young woman over the edge. Azza drew her dagger, but as she did, Coyo bolted up with astonishing speed and held into his friend’s arm with both of his.

“AZZA, DON’T!”

Enraged that her only friend seemingly chose the Orlouges over her, she flung him off against the wall while her dagger clattered to a corner somewhere in the room. Even the sound of Coyo’s ribs cracking again and his groan didn’t slow her down. “You bitch, you know perfectly what I’m talking about.”

After a quick glance at her Uncle Sei, Felicity narrowed her eyes to Azza. “Perhaps you would prefer to tell your side of the story to Mr. Ambrose here, Lady Azza.”

“Fuck you Felicity! This doesn’t involve him yet.” Struggling with the right words, she gave a guttural scream of frustration. “You talk of all your great armies and their unfortunate defeats but your Sei Orlouge couldn’t save one Thayne damned orphanage!”

“We didn’t have enough men!” Aislinn pleaded while an alarmed Sei Orlouge grabbed at her arms. Their escalating voices had been echoing about in the cavern, perhaps reminding the man of the voices he spoke of, imaginary or not.

“Don’t bullshit me Aislinn. Underwood was right next door from this hideout. All your fairy king had to do was stretch his little pinkie for fucks sake.”

“Regardless of the past, Lady Azza, we are here and now. We have no time for sob stories if they are not going to help Mr. Ambrose catch up to current events.” Felicity then turned her head away, nose held high, indicating that the conversation was now over as she turned her attention to comfort her uncle.

Her skin crawled in disgust of the Orlouges and their stuck up manner. At Coyo for betraying her and not taking her side. At the man who called himself Jensen Ambrose, who was apparently her father and dumb as a brick to what’s happened. But mostly, Azza was disgusted with herself for letting herself be lured into the mousetrap once more by Felicity.

With nowhere to direct her aggravation, she did the next best thing. Azza turned and punched the rock wall with all her might. There was a sickening crunch while blood gushing from her mangled hand and ran down the wall. The pain was only an afterthought as Azza then made for a door near Coyo’s bench, intent on not letting anyone see the tears brimming in her eyes.

“I hope you plan on cleaning that up, Lady Azza,” Felicity taunted right as Azza opened the degraded door.

She stopped. Without looking back she spoke through clenched teeth. “The blood of those you didn’t protect already stains your hands. What’s another smear?” She slammed the door behind her and walked down the hall towards the room she had claimed. As the echo of Azza’s steps faded, the door loosened from its hinges and fell forward onto the ground.

“That went better than usual,” Coyo managed before lying back onto the bench, now holding both sides of his ribs with a groan.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen watched the small scene unfold with the impunity of a fly on a wall. Though he was mentioned several times in the heated arguments they made no real indication they were really talking about him. Felicity’s quiet demeanor in the way she dismissed Azza, and the hotheaded girl’s nature to shove that pompous attitude down her throat and wring her by the neck. The immortal kept his gaze glued to his daughter, seeing her violently release her anger against the wall. She beat herself badly, and stormed off to be alone. Part of him pined to be with her, because deep down, the knight knew of her troubles.

She wasn’t the only one who watched friends die before their very eyes. There was a soft silence as Coyo said his peace, before Aislinn moved to the youth and began to tend to his injured ribs. He attempted to swat her away, but she was far more assertive than her happy-go-lucky demeanor would had indicated. Jensen looked to see Felicity glaring holes into the exit Azza took, but she said nothing as she stood next to her uncle.

To see Sei in the shape he was made Jensen’s heart cringe. It was a brutal, after effect of being shocked near to death. Not the shock from an electric chair, but the shock one got when everything they had died in their hands, and all they had was the blood covering themselves to comfort them. In someway, the mute had it far worse than Azza and Jensen. Not just the people he loved, but the army he cared for, the people he trusted all being torn and cut to pieces by these creatures from the void that Xsenjen manipulated.

The immortal felt like in someway he had always wanted to see the mystic fail. Everything he did he seemed to excel at, which irritated the knight. Jensen was sure that Sei was just a goody-too-shoo with nothing in the world that could bring him down. It was satisfying to know the great Sei Orlouge wasn’t impenetrable and as infallible as people would think, but this state he was in was never a sight the immortal wished to see. Sure, a dose of humble pie, but this maddened fool who lingered to life only because he was too stupid die was not what the knight had envisioned.

Still, it didn’t excuse the smell. Another whiff of piss and bile made the knight want to hurl had he not already done so. Lifting his towel to his face to cover the stench he pointed to Sei. “Ask what I want before the voices come again, you insane drunkard?” Felicity turned her head towards Jensen to silence him, but one toss of his towel shut her up as it covered her face. “Speak when spoken to, bitch, and stop protecting the hero of Radansath behind your coattails. He lost, and he should have learned to pick himself up. Isn’t that what we do, Sei, when we fall?” HE spoke directly to the mute, but he gave no indication he was really aware.

“Mr. Ambrose, please,” Aislinn whispered. “I know you aren’t from around here, but my Uncle Sei-”

“I’m a idiot! A fooo-oool,” He wailed, his mute lips letting out a grunt of pain. Jensen lifted his hands up in frustration as he gripped his shirt and wrung it out, feeling the cool rain drops filter out and run down his arm until it began to pitter on the ground in a little pool at his feet. “What foolish man thinks he knows what’s happened when he is not from this world,” Sei rambled on. TO that the immortal cocked an eye towards him, a slight smile coming to the fore.

“Knew you weren’t as stupid as you let on,” Jensen said coyly. “Go on, freakazoid, explain to me why I am a fool. Why are both of us fools, Sei Orlouge?” Aislinn lifted herself to stop Jensen from making her uncle speak about things he was afraid of, but she received his wet shirt in the face for her troubles. He silently hoped the two girls caught the hint, for he was running out of wet objects to throw at them.

“Xsenjen wants to open Mortarion’s Gate…ooohhh, he does and I don’t want him too…the voices speak of that place…a place of only DEATH!” Jensen shook his head. The information wasn’t worth anything to him. He kept his patience as he let the man ramble on, like one would let a horse go through its paces. “He watches US, he waits, he forms the key. You can’t open doors without keys! That’d be silly! A door with no locks! Then what would you do with the key? I don’t knooow!” Sei lifted his hands up in a wide shrug, his own personal body odor coming to the fore making Jensen wretch in disgust.

“You think I am foolish! I’m insane! But what does one who knows nothing of our world indicate? Maybe he’s just not from around here! Maybe…Maybe…Maybe…Maaaaybe…” Sei struggled for the right words. He kept repeating the word maybe, never stopping as Felicity looked to him concerned, but Jensen nodded to him, trusting the old hobo. Sei was once the most intelligent man he knew, and somewhere beneath the layers of stink, shame, B.O., piss, puke, and resentment and longing for better times was still the man Jensen respected. Even if the world stopped respecting him, Jensen wouldn’t. He had done things for the immortal nobody ever would have, including helping him become a family. If not for that, Jensen would still be a miserable, old wretch….probably like Sei was now.

“Maybe…because you aren’t from this world!” He whispered telepathically. His eyes went wide as if he had a great vision, his fingers moving like tiny constellations as he orbited them around his head. “Out from the stars, from another world! Maybe you have nothing here for you to understand, for you already understand it! You seeesss things we don’t! YOU see differently!”

“Are you done humiliating my Uncle!” Felicty snobbishly said moving the towel to the floor. “He’s rambling now about these things and-” Jensen lifted up her umbrella and tossed it to her, the woman’s hands snatching it in the air deftly.

“Or maybe,” Jensen said snobbishly. “Maybe…Maybe….MAYYYBEEE,” Jensen said winking to Sei. “That hobo fart is not as crazy as you’d think. He’s right in a way. I do see things differently. I look at you and I see you, but you should be a cat! I see Aislinn, I look at her, but I see her as a serious, straight edged ice queen! Azza isn’t a reckless bitch with a chip on her shoulder the size of this cave! She’s a sweet thirteen year old who is alone right now without her daddy!” Felicity looked to him and then back to her Uncle, who shrugged.

“I just pooped my pants,” Was the mute’s only reply to that statement, smiling like a baby who pooped itself. Felicity lifted a hand to her face, hiding her shame as Jensen merely awkwardly kicked a rock at his feet. Coyo on the other hand just laughed while Aislinn aided his broken ribs.

“Uh, duly noted,” Jensen said moving things along. He lifted his hand to his wet hair, feeling the strands as he rubbed the back of his head. “Look, I really just want to go home, who can help me do that?” The room remained quiet until Sei looked at Jensen with a fearful eye. He began to shake, gripping himself tightly.

“Oh there is someone, someone who knows more than me! She’s crazy, but not insane! She’s just as big a fool as me, but not stupid! The hag queen! She’s got the information of anything, but she lives in Revan…” Sei shook violently in silent fear as Jensen merely shrugged.

“Well, if it’s the only way, I’m going to go see her. But two things need to be done first. Sei, I hate to break it to you, but one way or another I’m going to bathe you. We can do it the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice. But seriously, brother, that smell is something fierce and I’d like to get rid of it.”

“NO, IT’S THE ONLY THING THAT HIDES ME FROM THE VOICES!” Sei pleaded. Jensen shook his head pushing him aside as he walked forwards. The second thing he needed to do was talk to Azza. On his way to the door she left out of Jensen stooped low and grabbed his coat.

He entered in the caverns, the hallways barren now and filled with a cold draft. He could see why they erected barriers around the cavern, for he could see the Clouds of Darkness looming deep within the tunnels where the soup kitchen should be. He turned down the hall, and he instinctively began to follow a set of steps he had memorized. Somehow, someway he knew exactly where Azza had hidden herself. It was the one place that would make sense in this world, when nothing else did.

The chilling storm had left small dripping puddles as he walked, his boots splashing the water aside as he walked. He didn’t try to hide his coming, he wanted his daughter to know he was coming. If she was even capable of knowing, that was.

He turned down one last corner and stepped into the old family houses of the Ixian Knights. He could see the few straining lights where Felicity and Aislinn were sleeping, the rooms originally belong to Sei’s daughters. Immediately he wondered what had happened to Anita and Kyla, and his heart fractured to think the worst. The war was terrible, and nothing could destroy the human mind like the loss of family. Was that the event that destroyed Sei Orlouge’s once steel-like mind? His heart wavered thinking of Kyla and the bratty Anita dead. He would have to get a definite answer later, but for now he had his own family to think about.

Something inside him knew that this girl wasn’t his daughter, but in this world where things were so drastically different from what he knew, he needed something to cling to, something to tie him down so he wouldn’t whined up like Sei. He stopped before a door, a door he knew well from his world. He wouldn’t know what to expect, but without any indication of him walking in he opened the door.

The inside of the room was a toppled mess. Portraits, pictures, all the things he had seen in his room from his world were in this world, but they all seemed faded, distorted. The largest one of the family he had was tilted and shredded, no longer seeable. The image was to shredded for him to make sense out of. And in the middle of the sea of chaos was one woman, glaring daggers at him.

“Get out,” She ordered. Jensen shut the door behind him.

“You went through one shit of an ordeal kiddo,” Jensen said. Azza merely mirrored his usual pose, crossing her arms over her chest angrily and leaning heavily on one leg. Jensen merely stood his ground on both feet, leaving his hands at his side.

“Tell me, daddy that you got a fucking clue what my life is like,” Azza dared him. “Tell me-” Jensen cut her off, lifting up his trench coat and opening it so she could see the inside. Upon the center of the back of the jacket were three names, all faded, but lovingly cared for. The attention to detail was precise, almost flawless in their script. She saw from them a warmth emanating from those names, and she instantly knew without a doubt those names were important to the immortal.

“Denzel, Chenelle, Miguel,” Jensen said flatly. “Those are my best friends.” Jensen lowered the jacket to give her a serious look of remorse on his face. “They died.” He choked. “They died for reasons I’ll never know, or ever understand.” Azza looked to the jacket and then back to his eyes. “Yeah, kiddo, I got a fucking clue. I wear it everyday.”

The girl shuffled, lowering her hostile gaze and loosening her stance. Jensen relaxed himself draping the jacket over an overturned chair. He stepped forward carefully as he looked to her. “Want to know how I found you?” He asked, slyly grinning. Azza merely looked up to him, and for the first time he could see all her tear stains on her face. “In my, well, world I guess we are calling it now, this is the home where you and I live with your mother.” Jensen smiled. “A family always knows where home is, right?”

Azza merely pursed her lips and blew out air as she turned away from him. “You aren’t my family,” She said defiantly. Jensen shrugged to her and offered his hand out, gently placing it on her shoulder and holding it there. He didn’t grip her tightly, but in a more encouraging way. She could shy away from his touch at anytime. He simply was letting her know he was there for her.

“I’m not,” He admitted. “But why don’t we start over fresh and new,” Jensen said to her, holding his hand out.

[orphans]

Normally she’d have broken the hand of whoever touched her. Hell, she even broke Coyo’s hand once, because he grabbed her from behind to surprise her as a joke. Sure, Jensen made her uncomfortable with how close he was standing and she was pretty sure he could see the tears washing channels through the dirt on her face…

But that didn’t matter too much at the moment.

Her friends and those she considered family had died in the same way Jensen’s friend had; no reason or reasons that she would perhaps never know. Azza took a chance and looked to the man’s hand for what seemed like an eon before she finally made a move.

Forgetting her pride for once, she clasped his hand with one of her own, though her lips still didn’t part in a smile. “Let’s just start off allies and if we’re still alive, why not…” After, the corners of her lips did twitch to hint a grin. Without warning, she shoved him away from her with inhuman strength, but in a gentle fashion so that he didn’t stumble.

“Glad to see we’re getting somewhere.” Jensen got the signal and backed off. He picked up his jacket and as he left, he shut the door behind him. On either side of the door, both Azza and Jensen sighed in frustration. Picking up his head, Jensen looked to the door across and out of sheer curiosity went to explore what would have been his room, in his world.

“Idiot…” Azza wanted to scream it, but instead it came out as a feeble murmur. “You were supposed to ignore that and hug me if you were my father…” She kicked a small piece of rubble away from her before sitting on the only thing remotely clean in the room: the bed.

She frowned at the ceiling while lying there. Why did he make her feel sentimental? Was the only reason because he was possibly her father? Hell, Mother Holly didn’t even act that motherly towards anyone. The memory of the old woman made the girl smile though. It was a big bright smile as she recollected practicing swordplay with the woman.

The sting of her regenerating hand brought her back from her memories. She raised the once mangled hand in front of her and watched with disinterest. “Wish he could tell me what the fuck I am too…”


When Azza awoke, she knew it was morning. At least, she knew that the time should have been morning. There was little use in actually referring to what time of day it was with the dark clouds constantly drifting overhead. Habit was what told the young lady the time of day. Ever since she was young, she had woken up at the same time no matter how tired she was. Rather, ever since her horns had finished growing.

A knock on the door made her get up with a groan as Coyo’s voice floated through. “Come on Azza, we gotta get going back to camp, remember?”

Getting up off the damp bed, she strode over to the door and pulled it open. “Right right, we’d better go before we get pulled into something crazy.” Coyo seemed to have recovered enough from his ribs and had a spear resting over a shoulder. Half curious about where he managed to find it, she held her question and just jerked her head towards the entrance.

Despite the rain stopping, the wind outside still whistled through the cracks of the hallways. Pools of murky water reflected how the day was most likely going to proceed as the two moved in silence. Accompanying them was the never ceasing sound of dripping water.

Unfortunately, the plan didn’t work out exactly as they planned. Felicity apparently had awoken before them, already sitting around with Jensen and old maps discussing what the next course of action should be. Felicity was first noticed Azza. “Sleep well, princess?”

Azza didn’t answer and moved to grab the handle of her massive dull blade. Hoisting it up, she began to make her way towards the exit with Coyo in tow. On the way, she noted that Sei Orlouge and Aislinn Orlouge weren’t among them and perhaps the reason was that they gave into Jensen’s demand of bathing the old loon.

“We are going to the Black Isle.”

At those words, Azza froze in her tracks with her back to the group while her dirty wings twitched. Coyo shifted uncomfortably where he stood and turned his eyes to Felicity. Seeing that Azza wasn’t responding, he began slowly, “That’s kinda insane don’tcha think?”

“I did not ask for your opinion, Coyo. This request is for Lady Azza.” Felicity’s eyes narrowed on the back of Azza and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, they were in need of help, no matter where it came from.

Coyo moved to confront the bitch but Azza stopped him with a hand. Reluctantly, he backed off and leaned on his spear and watched both uneasily. He didn’t think Azza would agree to something like this. In fact, he was sure that she would decline them.

“Whetstones and supplies.”

“What?! Azza you can’t be-” but he stopped with a painful grunt as Azza jabbed him in the ribs.

“The camp needs those supplies. I’ll go with them and you take care of yourself and things back home.”

“Yeah but-”

“I won’t die.” Felicity snorted at Azza’s words and for once, the girl ignored woman. Azza was worried about Coyo, but to confess that would be showing what she considered as weakness in front of Felicity.

Gritting his teeth, more in anger than pain, Coyo suddenly spat out, “Damn it Azza, just because you can regenerate almost every fucking thing doesn't mean you can't die!”

The words stung the girl something fierce and as her friend coughed blood from his sudden exertion, she moved to hold him still.

“The camp needs you. Hell, Willow needs you.” Try as he might, he pushed at Azza but could do little more than press his hands against her.

“This is all very touching, truly, but we need to discuss the plans.” Felicity chided the two as if they were children while she tapped a foot in annoyance. “We can promise all the supplies your little camp will need so long as you uphold your end of the bargain.”

“Just… shut the hell up for a second,” Azza returned before turning to Coyo again. “I don’t like it anymore than you do but-”

“Then don’t fucking go!” Coyo finally roared out before a coughing fit overtook him, making him spit out more crimson onto the floor. Regardless, he drew another breath to continue, but something stopped him. Something damp fell onto his hand and at first he thought it was water dripping from the ceiling. Feeling Azza’s body shaking told him differently.

“Damn it Coyo! This is the best chance we’ve gotten in a long time. We promised that’d we’d see this shit through didn’t we?” The grim determination that shimmered through the girl’s moist eyes finally broke his only wall of defense.

He turned his head away from her and spat out some remaining blood. “I won’t forgive you if you die me.” Grinning a silly grin, it only lasted a little bit as a small cough rattled his frame. “Fuck, where’s Aislinn when you need her to fix something.”

After she helped Coyo settle down on a nearby bench, Azza approached the table where Jensen and Felicity sat. “Are you ready now?”

Azza wanted to slap the woman as hard as she could, but at the moment, it would have been counterproductive. Instead, as Azza looked up, she smiled pleasantly to the mystic and silently promised herself that after everything was over, and if they were both still alive, she would slap the mystic until she turned human. “Ready.”

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen shook his head as Azza and Felicity went at it again. He couldn’t understand what made the two hate each other when the times were so dire. If half the world was destroyed by some madman Jensen wouldn’t be arguing with the other half that opposed him. Yet Azza’s determination pleased him when she announced and defended her right to go on the journey to the Black Isles. He for one nodded his head in welcome, scooting aside so she could sit next to him.

Azza walked to the map and looked to it, but didn’t take the proffered seat choosing to stand with her arms crossed. Jensen sighed to himself, wishing his little girl wasn’t so hostile, but he supposed in the same train of thought she wasn’t his little girl.

“The Hag Queen lives in Revan, near the marshes of Otaria where the Hex Magi once ruled. They were the first to side with Xsenjen, and the first to be consumed by the power of the void. The land now has become one free for all of life. The Lavinians have made their stand in their town of trade protected by the Dahlios clan, but the other ports and landmarks are littered with the undead, the void, and the echoes that spawn from the void. It is a death land to go there, but I see no other course if we are to learn more about why you are here.”

Jensen nodded as he looked to the map of the surrounding area. He noted they had highlighted lands that were part of the Federation, and those that belonged to the Technocracy of the Black Isles. He lifted a finger onto the map, trailing his pinky along a path as he pointed to a known trade route Corone had used with the Island Nations from his world. Felicity shook her head.

“There’s a problem nowadays with the sea,” Azza explained curtly. “The void has sunk deep into the waters, and the ocean is now akin to a minefield. To tread the waters is the same as wishing for death.” Jensen sighed as he looked towards the map.

“Hope does reign, Mr. Ambrose,” Felicity said as she placed a small X mark on the area of Gisela. “The routes to Gisela are still open, which leave us a safe passage to venture towards the lands of Akashima where they have an airport.” Jensen lowered his gaze in confusion.

“Well if we couldn’t cross the sea, we cross the sky,” Azza said at last taking the seat next to Jensen as she smiled to him, excited she was imparting wisdom of something she knew a great deal about. “The Aleran scientists that fled to Black Isle had brought with them their technology. The production yards of the island nation were able to build a fleet of ships within nine months to protect itself. Then, in the subsequent months and years, they began the steady production of the larger war galleons and trade ships, including the world’s most massive airship, the Machiavelli!” Azza lifted her finger and pointed to the Islands. “Black Isle has sent several trade ships out to the other lands, the only source of safe trade in these dark times. Several trade nations had then developed their own airports to accommodate the new source of trade.”

“Does every nation have an airship?” Jensen asked. “Or does the Island nation have a monopoly?” Felicity sighed as she poured herself some tea. The liquid splashed in the cup and the vapor pilfered into the air like a ghost sighing. She lifted the cup to her lips and slurped quietly as she lowered the glass.

“Indeed it does, Mr. Ambrose,” Felicity wiped her tongue across her lips, much like a cat after drinking from a bowl. “Very few nations have their own airship,” She lifted a hand to accentuate her coming point. “Notice I did not pluralize that. The royal army of Corone has one warship, The Lawmaker. The Dahlios clan had stolen one from Alerar, Lavinian Pride, and of course, the Federation has about four of them, the only exception to the rule. The ruler of the Federation had sent his sister as Ambassador, and the Princeps married her. That marriage created relations between the two are stronger than any other land.”

“After they developed their fleet of airships, the Technocracy changed their name to the Brotherhood of Steel. They aid the other nations in trade for a split of the profits!” Azza said excitedly to Jensen, like a child would when they wanted to impress a parent. Jensen smiled to her as he leaned back and listened to whatever she had to say. “So we are going to go to Akashima, grab us an airship lift to Black Isle, and from there,” Azza turned to Felicity, and her tone darkened. “I suppose we’ll ask the Princeps to let us borrow one of his ships for personal reasons.” The way Azza made their plan sound was as if this was the stupidest idea ever conceived. Which, when Jensen thought more about it, his daughter had a point. Why on the earth would the Brotherhood Princeps offer to help them?

“Because,” Felicity said straining to keep her tone even, like a teacher who was being bothered by her students. “My uncle Sei still has some sway with the nations of this world. He did help the Black Isles the most when the echoes started their invasions. It would be prudent of them to repay their debt to my uncle.” Felicity irritably slurped her drink and in a huff dropped it the table, splashing the map.

“Have they seen the condition your loony fairy uncle is in?” Azza countered. Felicity’s face turned a bright shade of red in her cheeks. Her silence said all that Jensen needed to hear. Hero or not, in the current state Sei was in Jensen would hesitate in lending him a gold coin, much less an expensive airship. Good manners would have dictated that Azza let that moment drop, but then again the two did seem to enjoy ripping into the other.

“I take that as a no. So, when they see he’s bat shit insane and tell us no, what will the plan be then?” Felicity gave her a dirty look and after a few seconds she responded.

“Well if this plan is so unworthy of you, than what would you recommend?” Felicity asked in a huff. “You are so quick to disagree and yet you offer nothing to contrary. Are the horns on your head squeezing what you entreatingly refer to as brain? I’m waiting, Lady Azza, for your answer!”

“Alright, shut up!” Jensen said groaning loudly. “There is no reason why we can’t get Sei to clean up his act long enough to get us to the boat. If that plan fails we’ll simply have to catch a ride on a transport to Lavinya and walk to the marshes from there.”

Both women gave him a dark look for interrupting their hate time. Jensen cocked his head to the side and lifted both arms up feebly with a shrug. “Not hearing any complaints, and it’s the only other feasible option.”

“Revan is a dead land. We will not survive such a journey,” Felicity tried to interject. Azza merely gave her a mocking smile.

“Well, then let’s hope the faggot fairy king can make himself presentable in time,” Azza said to her. Jensen stood up.

“Then we are all in accord. In a few hours we’ll send Coyo on his way with the supplies, and we are off to Black Isle!”

[KOA]

In the ruined lands of the northern continents, there was a strip of land that was intimidating huge, known as the Horogen mountains. The surrounding villages that once thrived in the fertile area were all smoking ruins, the greenery turned to a deathly yellow and brown. Even the hollowed wind seemed to blow with a lack of grace, as if the energy from it had been siphoned out. Titans and other creatures of the Void walked the land with impunity, the Clouds of Darkness spawning many of them in batches. No life was within this land, for all of it was either buried beneath the earth, or living up within the mountains.

There was a path that was unnatural in the base of the mountain, as if the gods looked upon the land and slammed a fist to make way to a passage. Every culture had their own story as to the occurrence, but in the end, those stories would all tell the same fate of the gulch that was stained red with the blood of millions. The crimson gulch was Xsenjen’s personal red carpet to his bastion, a towering network of castles, all intertwined around a central grand castle. How it blended into the mountains unseen for so many years was a prideful achievement of the once Knight’s of Apocalypse, but now it opened its gates to anyone. With so much dead around it, the castle itself looked like the lair of a hideous monster hiding in a deep, dark cave.

The wind echoed within the halls of the Bastion of the Apocalypse. Igneous rocks were smoothed to mirror sheen as floors. Portraits lined the walls depicting titanic battles and many statues lined the bends of the various horsemen of the end times. The hallways had transformed over the years, taking on a more stark contrast to the white and marble that once ruled the inner workings of the walkways and hallways. That was a long time ago, however. None who lived within the fortress of Xsenjen dared to talk about such times.

Inside one of the inner sanctums walked a tall man, a long black cloak wavering behind his feet like small dogs trying to bite his heel. He had shoulder length black hair, but it was constantly sticking outwards like it were a spiked hairdo. His golden eyes scanned the surrounding area, feeling the power emanating from the Clouds of Darkness that had become a second nature to him. Without even a thought he passed by one and two inky splotches oozed out from the void cloud, forming up into two man shaped creatures. They were Legionnaires, and both flanked their master like a royal guard.

Vladimir Sigma smiled cruelly as he stalked the halls towards his lords chamber. The powers he was granted by Lord Xsenjen was intoxicating. He saw deep into the chalice of power the void offered if one would drink from it, but the effects were sometimes not worth the risk as he had witnessed many times. His mother was right. Do not take power that can eventually take you. He was given he powers over the void because of his link to his mother, thus the void didn’t corrupt his soul like it had to her.

He shook his head thinking away those thoughts. His father warned him about the subtle temptations of the void, how mysteriously it worked to take another soul for itself. Only great and powerful beings could dare hope to be called Master over the void. Xsenjen, his mother, and damnably the Hag Queen. They were strongest users of the void. In place of the lack of void taint, Vladimir was assigned Xsenjen’s warlord. He controlled the armies, he deployed the forces, and he was the ruler of his domain when his lord was not around. The power he gained was not through sorcery, birthright, or ritual. He was powerful because he had the respect of the strongest man on the planet. A planet Vladimir would rule one day.

He stopped before a heavy set of brass doors. Etched into the metal was lines upon lines of ancient script about the horsemen, a few drawings of the terrible lords of the end times. At one point he would admit that he feared those gods, respected them to enough to be a willingly pawn. That was all until Xsenjen came, knocked over their thrones of rulership and killed the gods himself with the power of the void, taking his place as the prophecies had revealed; the End Bringer.

With a soft nod to his soldiers they stepped forwards and opened the door, their taloned hands grasping the brass as they chattered between each other in their own tongue. It was like the sound of insects communicating and it grated his nerves, but he made no outwards displays of his irritation.

He stepped into Xsenjen’s throne room, the once chamber of the council. Where the podium that held the thirteen councilman stood a large throne befitting an emperor of the world. It was ornate in every detail, master worked from several of the finest materials: Wood from Corone, Jewels from Akashima, Silk from Fallien, and precious metals from Salvar.

Upon that throne was a slender frame, athletically built and covered in obsidian black leather armor. His brown hair was neatly splayed over the shoulders of his full length trench coat, the jacket held open showing his chest and stomach. He looked to Lord Xsenjen, bowing even though his master’s eyes were shut. Xsenjen looked peacefully asleep. He had been like this more frequently as of late.

At his sides were two gorgeous women, both looking to Xsenjen with such longing it made Vladimir sick. Sycophants was the word he used to describe the daughters of Sei Orlouge. He trusted them both about as far as he could throw them. Their slender bodies were both draped in black silks, almost revealing in their nature. Anita Orlouge had died her hair white, leaving it cut short at the base of her neck as it flared out to the sides. Her eyes pierced over to Vladimir with a sneer, and the few creatures at her feet stirred looking Vladimir with contempt. One forward step from his two legionaries restored order as they hissed, but became silent.

Opposite of Anita was Kyla, her hands resting upon Xsenjen’s knee as he cupped her face with one of his elegant hands. She rested in his embrace, her eyes shifting in their socket to greet the Warmaster. She had died her shoulder length hair black, but one strand ran blood red down the middle, like a dagger in the night. It was the mark of her servitude to his mother; and Kyla was one of her most promising students. She crafted the void with such ease that it made Vladimir uncomfortable. While Anita had rudimentary knowledge at best, Kyla probably had the power to control his own bodyguards if she willed it.

Two gorgeous beauties, both deadly in their own ways. Anita had the fighting prowess of a god of war. Trained first by Sei Orlouge himself to fight, then trained by Xavier Sigma, Vladimir’s father, to fight all the harder for her new lord. Both daughters of Sei had betrayed him, cast him aside without so much a second thought when Xsenjen offered them to join his cause. It was in this nature he distrusted them. Betrayal was akin to cowardice, and there was no room for a coward in the field of battle.

“I can listen to your thoughts, Vladimir,” Anita said with a sly smile.

“You are broadcasting your hatred of us very loudly today, is something the matter?” Kyla responded in a daze, as if she was talking to the wall before her. Xsenjen’s fingers curled around her scalp as he began petting her affectionately. Vladimir felt a shiver run down his spine. Potent telepaths they both were, very potent indeed. He had tested to see how far they could listen to his thoughts, but they never revealed just how powerful their mystic powers went.

“My son is merely troubled by the news we keep hearing,” A soft voice spoke in the shadows. The small patter of slippered feet echoed in the room as a woman with long black hair that draped to the small of her back entered the light. Her face was veiled, as if she were a funeral, but her dress was a strapless evening gown. Behind her the yellow eyes of the Echoes seemed to open as one, all looking forwards for signs of intruders that would dare do their mistress harm. When all was safe, they shut their eyes as one. He gave his mother a polite nod of his head, which she returned. Though he couldn’t see her face, he was sure he could see her smile.

“It only makes sense to be wary of traitors,” A deep booming voice said behind Vladimir. He smiled to hear that blatant insult to the Kyla and Anita’s situation, voicing the words Vladimir wished to speak. He didn’t even bother to turn and look at his father. The duster jacket he wore once belonged to the Avatar of War, Razgriez. It dragged along the ground, his boots made a loud jingling sound, the spurs on his feet striking the ground with a spark where he tread. He looked to Xsenjen, and as one family they all bowed again.

Xsenjen softly opened his eyes to look at the group of people, his dark pupils having lost all but the shadow of his iris, it was like two shades of black in one. With a favoring, charismatic smile he looked to them all and removed his hand from Kyla. When he stood up the two girls did the same, trailing behind him like sentinel guardians.

“I apologize for sleeping, my comrades,” Xsenjen yawned. “Gazing into the void is so relaxing at times I seem to drift off. You no doubt all come to tell me of something of great importance, so please, speak your minds and remember my chosen ones, be frank with me.” Again they all bowed to him. Vladimir’s mother stepped forward and waited to be addressed. Xsenjen turned to her, bowed his head respectfully, and spoke in a soft tone to her, “Lady Victoria, please, take the floor.”

“I have been gazing through the clouds of darkness at the home of Sei Orlouge,” At the mention of his name both girls spat and cursed. Xsenjen smiled at the name, having locked in combat himself with the so-called hero of Radansath. Victoria continued on as if she wasn’t so rudely interrupted by the girls outburst. “He has been taking in people into his home, but this one person is an unknown,” She stated mysteriously.

“An unknown,” Xsenjen repeated, his voice like a fine honey that everyone begged to have just a drop of. He paced a bit towards Victoria, moving his right hand in lazy circles. “I suppose this unknown is a result from the Key?” Victoria nodded once.

“He is not from this world, and he hails himself by the name Jensen Ambrose,” She said stated the facts with cold efficiency. “He is not to be trifled with. An unknown is simply put, a danger. We have come so far to open Mortarian’s Gate for you, my lord. It would be just ignorant of us to leave something like that in the open.”

“I agree,” Xsenjen said lifting his hand to his chin. “This dedication to me, Victoria, is as always appreciated. Thank you so much for all you have done for me,” He turned to Xavier and Vladimir. “For all of your hard work. I trust no other family in the world, save you, Sigma’s. You have given up the most, sacrificed the most, and it all willingly to me!” He spoke with such vindication, such passion that in the room couldn’t keep their gaze off their lord.

“The Slayer of the Avatars,” He turned to Xavier. “You stood by my side as my first general. You fought for me the most when the civil war that claimed our once proud order. You defied the gods themselves with grim determination, and in return all I could merely do was sever the ties of Lazarus over your son.” Xavier nodded his head deeply to Xsenjen. The lord of the Void had made it sound as if he still owed Xavier a debt.

Vladimir gazed in wonder to Xsenjen, feeling his heart swell with pride. This god of a man was the only reason he was no longer plagued by a stupid sword known as the Masamune. The dreams, the visions, he ended them all. Vladimir had been freed from the puppet strings the god Lazarus had placed on him. His life would be nothing if he remained, so he pledged everything he was to Xsenjen.

“I can think of nothing, save to leave the world in your capable hands, Vladimir when I must leave you all. It is all I can think of to repay you for your loyal service.”

“We serve you fully, my lord,” Xavier said at once. Vladimir nodded. Xsenjen turned back to his throne.

“I have need of you again,” Xsenjen said hesitantly.

“Whatever you need of us, we will do my lord!” Vladimir said quickly. “Should you ask us to die for your cause, we will do so.” Victoria cast a sideways glance at Vladimir, a small flicker of disappointment on her face behind her masked veil. He could feel her shame in his words, but it was a moment that faded quickly as she looked back to Xsenjen.

“I too have gazed into the Clouds of Darkness. They plan to head into Black Isle, than get an airship to Revan. There is no coincidence that the ritual purged Jensen Ambrose from his world into this one. The Key was created, but I fear he may be in this plane to destroy all we worked for. I ask of you to prepare for him, my generals.” They all nodded as one. “In the interim, until he actually becomes a higher level threat we must continue to make preparations for my trip into the Shroud of Shadows. Now that I have the key it almost time to finish what we have started.”

Anita and Kyla both looked to Xsenjen with lust in their eyes, both reaching out to him as he took both their hands into his, and kissed the knuckles of both women. “I shall have my Praetorian, Broxsam, deal with Jensen Ambrose for now. The Hag Queen is one of the few influences we cannot handle directly, so her role in this coming series in events may be defined by the outsider.” As he turned he sat down, both women sitting at his feet again, resting on his knees as he favored them both with his hands resting on the back of their head.

As if his name was a summons, another humanoid like creature stepped out from behind the Throne. Victoria shied away from him, the echoes behind her all opening their eyes as one to gaze upon him with distrust. The creature looked like an exact replica of Xsenjen, save he had alabaster skin, dead pupils, and he dressed in a black robe that covered most of his body. He looked to each of them with a solemn face, nodding to his lord.

“They will not reach the Hag Queen,” Broxsam said, his voice coming from a million shadows in the room. “My life in the Void, I swear it.”

[orphans]

For leadership of once vast armies, Azza plodded ahead with annoyance and the occasional glance at their haphazard formation. Sei was in tow somewhere in the back with Felicity, who placated him by talking to him as if he were a child. In the middle, Aislinn was all too happy to walk beside Jensen, who was becoming slightly less freaked out by how she was acting, but still was. That left Azza leading the group when they reached the Akashima port. Booking passage was easy enough, as the captain of the trade vessel had owed Azza a personal favor. Whatever the favor was Azza shed no light on the matter and let the others wonder, though this earned her a snide comment from Felicity. Azza glared daggers and the captain turned red at the thought.

When the ship made ready to leave, Azza half wondered if Coyo would be alright, but she put that question out of her mind quickly. He would be alright. Coyo would be surrounded by good people that she… both of them trusted with their lives. Azza on the other hand, as she glanced over her shoulder, would be surrounded by people she wouldn’t trust to braid her hair.


During their ride on the airship, Azza promised herself not to become overly excited and pester the operators of the ship. Felicity hid herself away under blankets to rid herself of the unending noise that emanated from the trade ship’s engines. That left Aislinn to take care of Sei, who had become surprisingly calm. Well, at least calmer than usual.

And Jensen... Azza had no idea what he was doing. She saw him once or twice, and he seemed as he wanted to talk, but she didn’t quite feel ready yet. He had seen her in a rare moment of weakness and that troubled her. He seemed to get the point, or just simply couldn’t find her, or did his own thing. Either way, the remainder of the trip was uneventful.


The real problem came once they landed in the Black Isle. For one, getting over the fact that there was a place that the sun still shown was a big step. It made everything after slightly easier to take in. There was almost no trace of the void here and if there was, it didn’t stay for long. From the sky, they could see magnificent marble buildings that represented the more important sectors while masterwork stone buildings stood in the place of most others. Even the “slum” district had nicely crafted homes.

In all honesty, with so much at their disposal it sickened Azza to her stomach. There was a time when she had wondered why simply everyone from the outer lands or forsaken realms didn’t just pack up and move here. That answer, she learned for herself later. People simply didn’t want to leave their land and place they called home. For that, she admitted a smidge of respect for the Orlouges.

When the ship finally docked, Felicity was the first one off the boat and sighed with relief to get away from the noise. Jensen was next, followed by Sei guided by Aislinn. A few moments later, Azza followed suit having said goodbye to the captain.

“Another ‘personal’ favor, Lady Azza?”

“Guessing you’re jealous?” The two shot each other dirty looks until Jensen decided to walk between them.

“I hate to be the one to say it, but shouldn’t we focus?” Both women turned their evil eyes to Jensen. “Guess not.”

Aislinn eventually coughed and spoke quickly, “Right, the plan! Secure an audience with the guiding hand of the Black Isle, Karel Raven.”

Azza scoffed, “I’m sure it’ll be that easy to have tea and biscuits with him.”

“Despite what you may think of us, Lady Azza, we are much more capable than you think.” Felicity’s air of superiority was infuriating. Hell, she could probably stomp down the artisan who made the delicately crafted mosaics that lined the wall of the port.

“She’s right Lady Azza, we Orlouges are right and proper before the right people.”

Azza palmed her face at Aislinn’s words. They didn’t inspire much hope in the young woman. During this whole time though, Sei remained silent. Uncharacteristically silent that Azza did begin to worry a little, though she would never admit it.

“I would suggest that you and Mr. Ambrose explore the city,” Felicity said with a wave of her hand to the port. There were two other trade ships already docked, loading and unloading respective cargos. Large cranes mounted on large pylons assisted the crews. “Or would you prefer to offer ‘personal’ favors to Mr. Ambrose as well?”

Azza gave a savage grin, “You’re the one sounding like the bitch in heat now.”

Felicity’s cheeks turned an uncomfortable red and was about to retort the claim when Aislinn gave another small cough. “We’re wasting time.”

“I suppose we are. I trust you can handle yourself here then?” Azza was still trying to get over the shock that Aislinn said something serious as her head nodded. “Good. We’ll meet up at the Golden Sun Inn then.”

Confidence was obviously not in short supply, as they two seemed absolutely positive that they could at least pull that off an audience. The plan sounded peachy, but Azza couldn’t exactly say that she was happy that they were leaving. That left her alone with Jensen.

“…so…” It was a beginning as good as any while the two watched Felicity, Sei, and Aislinn walk down the paved road into the city. “Wanna get something to eat or look at airships? I vote airships.”

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen let his legs dangle over the edge of the crate he sat on, watching the airships flying around like a circus of ants all migrating with the greatest of ease. He marveled at the technology and its progress, surmising that war usually brought about the fastest in technological leaps and bounds. The port was a magnificent sight to behold. The towers, the flat platforms and awnings all designed to navigate and control the flow of traffic. Watching one of the larger beasts land gently down was a little captivating and he and Azza both had to lift their hands over their eyes to shade themselves from the flowing rush of heat and tiny rocks and debris.

When they lowered their hands he looked at the ship with his daughter, both silent as they gazed at the airships mass. It was a sleek hull, shaped like a bird with a small command port at the top, jetted wings, and massive exhaust ports towards the rear as well as what Jensen could only assume was a complex system of pulleys and gears to rotate the downward thrusts. The silver letters glistened in the light against the sun, like it was on fire, the name of the ship Soulforged. Nothing the Knight’s of Apocalypse in his world had anything nearly as advanced as these ships. The few airships they owned, including The Avatar Slayer could hold a candle to the trade ships of this world.

“It’s really sleek,” Azza whispered. “Nice shape, agile, doesn’t look like it has a lot of teeth though…” She commented pointing out the few cannon ports on the vessel. Jensen merely looked up at the sky, lifting his hand just under her nose. She irritably lifted her eyes up, but then she nodded in understanding. Four or five vessels were sailing above the smaller ship, like guards watching over their charge.

“An entourage, huh?” Azza said. “Somebody really powerful must be on board.” Jensen nodded as they walked away from the scene, watching some guards rush forward. In their hands were large rifles, sabers at their side to go with their light armor. The unmistakable symbols of a moon and a sun were on the center breast plate. He looked to that and pondered before he recalled his history of his world.

In the land he was from, the Black Archipelago was made of three Islands: Black Sun, Black Moon, and Black Eclipse. Black Sun was mostly the living arrangements of the three islands. That was where the Princeps would live if his world was like his. The Black Eclipse was the docking and shipyards, the island they were currently on. The production plants were already working on several other airships he noticed, most trade, but it did seem they continued to expand their military might. He pondered that and concluded they must have some quota ratio of trade ships to warships. If he could figure out what that was, he could learn how many warships the army had. Though one look in the sky and he could see well over twenty.

Jensen wondered what was up with this land, assuming quickly that it was free of the taint of the Clouds of Darkness. Though one look deeper into the land and he could tell that wasn’t the case. He spotted a cloud further inland, but unlike in Corone there were sentries posted around it. Whenever something tried to ooze out he surmised they’d be were prepared to handle it. He assumed the Princeps set up multiple guards to protect his people with the other clouds in view.

Azza seemed to be enjoying herself, smiling brightly as she paced slowly down the stone laid path. Jensen felt like saying something, anything to his daughter, but what could he say? The situation was a lot more frustrating than he would admit. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy the time he had with her.

“So they got a big one, huh?” Jensen said to try and start a conversation that Azza should feel comfortable talking about. The girl dropped her smile quickly. Jensen defensively lifted an accusing finger to her. “You wanted to look at the airships!”

“Yeah, look, not talk,” She muttered to him. Jensen angrily lifted his hand to his head and slapped his forehead, cursing as he gave her a dirty look. “What?” She teased. Jensen merely rolled his eyes as he turned his head and ignored the girl. Mentally he checked off airships as one of the things he could use to try and communicate with his daughter.

“You know what, forget it. I bet you the blasted ship isn’t even that big anyway.” He wondered ahead of her, lifting his arms over his head and walking while gazing at the sky. It was nice that this part of the world didn’t suffer a large amount of effects of the Shroud of Shadows. The sun shined with more intensity it seemed, making up for the fact other lands couldn’t bare witness to the glory of it’s golden rays. As he walked he sighed peacefully. It was kind of nice not to have to worry for a moment about Echoes or Xsenjen.

“What did you say?” A tiny voice called out behind him and Azza. Both turned to look at a small girl, her eyes brimming with hatred as she seemed to radiate tiny flames around her frame. Her hair was blond and flowed behind her as another ship landed, and four guards were walking behind her, weapons held ready, but their faces all contorted to match embarrassment. One even groaned. “I asked you a question!” She shouted over to Jensen.

“What the hell?” Azza said, but the girl lifted her hand up to silence Jensen’s daughter.

“Wasn’t talking to you, horned freak!” She stepped forward and Azza straitened herself up as she made a threatening move towards the girl. The guards easily put any ideas in Azza’s head to harm the girl to rest. “You, dumbass! You muttered something about my ship?” Jensen watched the girl approach him, looking at her robes. They were rather nice, but they were covered in grease around her neck and hands. In fact, her face had tiny splotches of dirt on her face, like she was working on an engine or in a blacksmiths shop.

“What?” Jensen said confused. “I didn’t say something about your stupid ship,” Jensen said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. The girl stopped within four paces of Jensen, lifting up a warning finger as she wagged it at him, her tone barely contained fury.

“You are walking a thin line, Mister! You best not be talking down the only ship in the skies that can crush Xsenjen’s armies with ease! The biggest ship to set sail in the skies, my brainchild, my ideas, MY SHIP!” She lifted her eyes to Jensen looking him up and down. “What are you, some sorta mercenary? Why are you even in these docks. This is a restricted area! Only members of the Brotherhood of Steel can walk here!” Jensen let out a snort of mirth as he pointed to the kid.

“What about you small fry?” Jensen challenged. “You should be at home playing with dolls, not picking fights with everything that moves because you got a hardon for you precious toy ship.” Jensen interrupted before she could speak again, lifting his hand just above her height. “What are you, seven?”

“EIGHT!” She bellowed, as if she had to tell this to everyone she met. Jensen laughed as he walked around her, keeping his hand in place.

“Oh I get it, you must be some nobles daughter, thinking because you get to sit pretty in your noble house you can talk down to people. Reality check, kid, you want respect, you gotta earn it.” The girl’s eyes widened with the insult, her mouth gaping as she tried to form words. It wasn’t a stunned insult, but concentrated hatred trying to pour out her mouth.

“Uh, Jensen,” Azza said suddenly remembering who the girl was. Jensen waved his daughter off as he continued to circle the girl. “Jensen,” Azza said again, her tone trying to warn him.

“What’s the matter, don’t like the fact you can’t bark all day like a yippity dog? Where’s your pruse, you got a pooch in there I bet! Or maybe your little dollies. Where’s mommy and daddy? Cheating on each other with their secretaries while they dump you with their guards?” The girl’s face dropped wide open now, her fists unclenching as she looked to Jensen at the audacity he spoke. He leaned down to the girl, with a smile on his face. “Does life suck for you?”

“DAD!” Azza tried in one last warning shout. Jensen looked to Azza, surprised she would address him as father, but it was the moment the girl wanted. She lifted her leg up, kicked him right in the groin, and pushed him over batting her tiny fists into Jensen’s skull. It didn’t hurt, but the pain from the kick stung like a knife being jabbed eternally in his crotch. The little bitch was wearing steel toed boots!

“Ugh, I tried to warn you, dad, that she is Fir Northwind,” Azza wiped a hand over her hair as she played with it, touching her horns a bit in sadness from the insult. “The senior Adept of the Technocracy of the Brotherhood of Steel.”

“Ouch, quit it ya little shit!” Jensen tried to fight back, but the girl was actually decent in a scrap. Her hands went for her belt on the inside of her robes, and out came a small wrench. Quickly the guards ran to her, lifting the wrench out of her and scooping her up like a parent would to a wailing child.

“I’ll kill him!” She threatened. “Let him see just what I can do! I‘ll shove his-” Jensen never could understand how an eight year old knew the proper uses of a man’s unmentionables and the improper application of what he could do with them. Woozily he rose to his feet, his eyes scanning the guards to see if they were going to arrest him for insulting their top notch kid.

“What the hell does that mean to me? She like a junior ranger or something? A special award for kids who are really smart?”

“Dearest dad,” Azza sighed. “She’s the highest in the order. She is the head honcho, she answers only to one man.” Azza lifted her hands together and quoted each title, just to make sure it sunk in. “That man-”

“Would be me,” A voice spoke towards them from the direction Jensen and Azza came. “The Princeps of Black Isle.”

[Zantetsuken]

The man before them was dressed in a fine evening coat that draped behind him in the wind just past his knee cap. He wore a deep blue, black vest, and white silk shirt over his vlince pants and boots. Long hair was tied down in a ponytail at the base of his neck and his angular face was covered in a warm smile. Beside him was a woman of fine beauty, dressed in a tasteful summer gown with a small umbrella in her hand that she twirled lazily as she watched the scene unfold. Her heeled boots clicked as she stepped ot the side to let her husband move onwards.

Karel Raven, Princeps of Black Isle, walked forward of his guardians and wife to the small little theatre he had been witness to. True, the man had made sport of his Senior Adept, but the girl did kick the man in the crotch. As far as he was concerned the two were even, with Fir owing the man a little change. He would talk to his senior Adept when she calmed down, but for now he had more important matters to discuss with Lord Orlouge. This was a nice distraction, but he had to press on.

“My apologies for my Adept,” Karel said politely, his noble training taking form. He bowed to both Azza and Jensen softly. “Though you must remember we take pride in our fleet, and an insult to the machine is an insult to the creator.” Karel said hinting his warning to the rouge who sullied the name of their flagship.

“He’s a moron,” The horned woman said nicely. “He’s not even from this world,” She added as an afterthought, the idea so ludicrous it made Karel think the man was unstable. “Name’s Azza.” She stuck her hand out, and Karel gracefully accepted her greeting. He quarter turned and gestured behind himself.

“This is my lovely wife, Rebecca,” Karel said happily. She stepped forward with the grace of a dancer, taking Azza’s hand and shaking it gently before she nodded to Jensen. “You sir must be, if I heard correctly, Jensen?” The man nodded.

“So, while I do think we can ignore this transgression, I do wonder why you are trespassing in Brotherhood territory.” Jensen lifted his hand to the back of his head, something Karel noted he did often when he wasn’t sure what to say. He observed Azza out of the corner of his eye, noting she seemed to equally mirror his uncomfortable state by fidgeting with her feet. Indeed they were like father and daughter. The horns however were new to him, but unlike his Adept, he kept that to himself.

“Princeps Raven,” Jensen said as if he was unsure that was proper title to give the man. “I, we,” He motioned to Azza. “Are with the party of Sei Orlouge. We were split up to wander the city and well, we decided to look at airships. I had no clue this area was restricted.”

Karel merely kept his composure as he looked to his wife. She merely shrugged.

“They mentioned only three would be joining us at the palace,” She said giving Jensen a disturbed look. “We can check their story if you want, my love.” Karel nodded and Rebecca retreated to her royal guards, speaking to them in hushed whispers. One of the guards pulled out a small orb attached to a metal bar. They thumbed a few runes, and the orb glowed a soft blue. They spoke into the orb, and when the orb turned red they listened. Rebecca returned and smiled to Azza and Jensen.

“Indeed, Lady Felicity confirmed they arrived with two others in their employ. Bodyguards for Sei Orlouge.” Jensen and Azza both widened their eyes in surprise. “Why does that surprise you?” Rebecca said tapping a finger on her husbands hand, noting she wanted to hold it. Karel linked his with hers, but kept his face neutral to them.

“Nobody really mentioned our role. We were told to follow and shut up,” Azza said cutting off Jensen. The man seemed annoyed to be constantly interrupted, but remained quiet. He looked to Karel and shrugged, nodding his head. The Princeps merely kept his gaze on them and then looked to his Adept.

“Go back to the palace, Fir. I’m sure your brother would like to see you,” Karel said smiling. Fir nodded once to him, kicked Jensen one last time in the shins, making him drop to his knee as he cradled his wounded leg, and she was off, her body guards in tow.

“You shall join us then for our meeting with Lord Orlouge. He was a great man, you know. His Ixian Knights are the only reason we stand today.” Karel and Rebecca walked hand in hand down the docks towards a large building at the center of the grouping of the town. “He dispatched several of his men, a warrior from Akashima, who aided us in repelling the coming of the Echoes. The man’s name was Taka I think.”

He noted Jensen seemed to tense at the name, which was curious. Taka had died when battling a titan. Did this Jensen know the Samurai? If so, he would have loved to speak on the matter in more detail, as he and Taka became close friends, but first he had to speak with Sei.

“Sei had come himself when Alerar was under invasion. He organized the very first fleet of ships we had to repulse the coming of the Xsenjen’s armies. The first nation to successfully fend him off. That victory allowed my dear wife’s brother to head up the Federation, giving us an army to defend our lands. We supplied the trade needed to survive, and the Federation keeps us well stocked with soldiers and materials.”

“I see you keep forgetting the best part of the deal!” Rebecca teased playfully slapping Karel’s arm. He smiled to his wife, lifting a hand through her brown hair and running his fingers through it until he cupped the back of her head and brought her in for a kiss.

“Wow,” Jensen muttered. “Think I’ll puke.” Azza nodded her head as the two snickered to each other. Karel gave the bodyguards a warning glance but ignored the comment as if he didn’t hear it, looking to his beautiful wife. Her ocean blue eyes sparkled to him, and he felt his heart melt just to gaze at her beauty.

“Indeed, I got you.” She smiled leaning into him. His arm wrapped around her shoulders as he continued walking. “We owe Sei a great deal,” Karel continued on pointing out a few buildings. “We never would have been able to create such works of beauty and amass a such a wide spread fleet!” He lifted his hand to the sky and once again he observed the two outsiders. Both looked up and gazed, their breaths being taken by the sight of so many airships.

“I would imagine it takes a great deal of resources to keep them afloat,” Jensen said. “What do they run on, oils, fuel?”

“A sophisticated process of refinement we set up in Fallien for our older ships. The warships all run off of pressurized water. We add a few chemicals to the mixture, but the ideas is very simple,” Karel was about to go into detail when his wife elbowed his gut. He laughed nodding his head getting the hint. “Easy if you enjoy those kinds of things.” Karel turned to the town they walked through.

“I do,” Azza muttered.

As they passed through the town they were met with a host of people. It was as if the dark times hadn’t plagued their land at all. Black Archipelago was simply a land that didn’t let the chaos consume it, and Karel was proud his people didn’t end up like the citizens of Corone. The land was not nearly as bad as Revan, but the main brunt of the fighting was dealt on that Island. Gisela was a former shell of its glory, and Akashima was the only trade port he cared to keep good relations with. Outside that Radansath was a desolate hole now, littered with Clouds of Darkness. While he knew his lands were plagued by the void taint, he had taken the measures to secure his people first.

He supposed Sei wasn’t so lucky.

“So I must ask, how did you come to know Sei Orlouge?” Karel asked Jensen and Azza. Both seemed to be in their own little worlds, Jensen coming too first as Azza seemed conflicted about something. While they walked he had ordered his men to do background checks on them both, and only Azza’s came back to him. He listened to his orb of communication that he had hidden in his jacket pocket, learning all about her that he could. Lady Felicity seemed to have intricate detail of her.

“I fought the bastard once,” Jensen said laughing to himself. “He beat the crap out of me so bad I just wanted to die and be done with it. So when I jumped off a cliff thinking it’d be over, he sprouts his stupid fairy wings and saves my life. But thanks to him, I got my life reprioritized.” Karel nodded as he learned the facts about Jensen.

An outsider from another dimension it seemed. He was trying to visit the Hag Queen for a way back to his home, but Karel didn’t believe that. He would put a careful eye on Jensen. Azza on the other hand was an orphan. She was one of the places that was directly in the line of attack and her home was destroyed by the Echoes. She apparently harbored a deep resentment for the hero of Radansath, and that didn’t sit well with Karel. Two people with personal agendas, and then Sei wanting to seek an audience with him after two or so years was becoming suspect to his mind. Why they all felt his island home was needed for their personal games was a conflicting point the he wasn’t comfortable with.

“I see,” Karel said as they turned a bend and began walking down a marbled edged path of white stones. As they approached the castle he looked up to take in the whole feeling. It was small for most people’s tastes, but this wasn’t his real house. That was on Black Sun. This palace was simply his place of business. Still he couldn’t help but feel pride as Azza and Jensen both gaped in wonder.

The stonework was master crafted, the towers, three of them, each stretched high into the sky like the talons of a god piercing the heavens. There was large dome in the center of the towers, just above the others by a few feet. It housed the World Cannon, the largest missile system to date. The cannonballs were the size of a curled child dragon, and required ten men to pull the ball into place using a crane. Still, it could knock out a titan in one shot, and that was worth much to the Nation. Titans were rare, barely walking out to march to war, and so to take them out lessened the present danger. It was also nice to have a big cannon in his front yard. It deterred would be pirates and unwanted skirmishes.

If Xsenjen wanted to take Black Isle, he would have to send in a fleet. With the number of airships he had he doubted the Void Lord would bother, content to let him sit in his corner of the world. That was a point of peace and annoyance for Karel. He wanted to feel like he had the means to stop Xsenjen, but history had shown twice that even with all his ships, that wasn’t going to mean victory.

The obsidian stone steps echoed Rebecca’s heels as they clicked underneath her. The door was made of a Coronian black oaks and it groaned as the procession entered in. He stepped forwards into the greeting hall, finding Felicity, Aislinn, and Sei all sitting patiently in the spacious silk couches and chairs. Felicity seemed rather annoyed to see Azza, and Aislinn seemed excited as she waved haphazardly to Jensen. Sei merely kept his eyes shut, as if he were sleeping. Karel held Rebecca tightly to him, kissing her forehead and letting her wander off as he lifted himself up to a proper noble height and bowed to Sei.

“Lord Orlouge,” Karel said with respect. “I have heard you need my assistance for a favor. As I feel we have much history I am inclined to listen to your proposals,” He lifted one hand behind his back and another to a hallway. “Perhaps a conference room would be better suited for our needs. I’ll have the servants fetch us some drinks and food. Please, I wish to make sure you enjoy your stay.” The Orlouges lifted themselves as one, Sei smiling to Karel and nodding to him in a friendly way. He noted how time had taken a miserable toll on Sei, his face now weary and horrified by the things he had seen. Karel knew deep down he wasn’t even strong enough to deal with a quarter of the things Sei has seen. In a brotherly way he touched Sei’s arm, smiling to him.

He watched them all filter into the conference room, before he turned to Jensen and Azza. “Please, join us, I have interest in your stories as well,” Karel said looking to Jensen with intent.

[The Soulforged]

Fir Northwind was many things. The one that drew the most sound effects from people was the fact that she was a genius. No one, man or woman, could hold a candle to her brilliance; none could come close. For her, shipbuilding came as naturally as breathing would to another person. She simply saw designs as she thought them up; to her they were as clear as day. It was due to this simple fact that she had advanced to a title she, in all honestly, couldn’t often pronounce correctly (she tended to pronounce Technocracy as “take-no-crapcy“).

Second, she was a war orphan. Not a very unusual thing in this world, as the Echoes claimed many lives. Still, the fact that both her mother and father were slain by Echoes significantly altered her life. In a world were her mother and father still lived, it would be highly unlikely that she would be “Senior Adept of the Take-no-crapcy of the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Thirdly, she had an older brother. He, at the tender age of twenty himself, had to play the role of father, brother, role model, house keeper, and sadly (for Fir did not have much free time) best friend. He did all this with stoicism and a smile, even if his heart was heavy with all these burdens. To understand Fir, it is essential to understand that to her, Seed Northwind is the best thing in her life.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, Fir Northwind is an eight year old girl.

“There are two problems here gentlemen. Two problems,” Fir muttered as she walked up and down a line of engineers, all of which had to look down to see the expressions on her face. “We shall start with the lesser of the two.”

Fir’s face became red and contorted. It was still stained with plenty of smudges and oil; she had not bothered to wash herself off. She had come straight to the main hangar of Black Isle’s airships after her run in with Jensen and company. She had arrived very upset.

“Who did it?” Fir demanded as she whipped about, pointing an accusing finger at one of the engineers. “I want answers, and I want them NOW!”

The engineers all shrank back. Fir’s tempers were legendary, and being on her bad side was never a good thing. An eight year-old mind with the authority of the second most powerful person on the Isle led for rather harsh punishments. On a side note, it also led to rather interesting and fun rewards. Last Friday, for example, had been declared Beer and Pizza day in the cafeteria by Fir. It was a major hit, and although Karel had muttered a few disapproving words, most of the staff had been quite thrilled. Beer was, of course, carefully rationed so that no one could over intoxicate themselves. Although, one person had managed to come up with a rather clever nickname for Karel, which was still being used behind his back.

Actually, it had been Fir who had thought up the nickname (and she had only been drinking soda pop).

“Ma’am, we actually have work to do, so if you could just...” One man dared. He was quickly silenced by a glare.

“I will not just...do whatever it was you were going to tell me to do! I want to know who did it!” Fir shouted as she stomped her foot angrily. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I skipped dessert last night so I could save that slice of cake for today and...and....SOME ONE ATE IT ALL!”

This might seem an inane thing to cry over, but please remember, Fir was eight. And, at the tender age of eight, skipping dessert is one of the most arduous and painful experiences one can undergo. To have someone else eat the dessert that had been saved, in the mind of an eight year old, is about as tragic as getting picked last (very, very very tragic).

“It was chocolate!” Fir sniffed as she fell to her knees. “My favorite! Seed bought it as a surprise treat for me and...and...AND NOW IT’S ALL GONE!”

There is only so much a food thief can take, and the tears of an eight-year old girl was too much for this one.

“I am so sorry!” A man blurted out as he fell forward. “I didn’t know it was your’s!”

Murmurs of “you’re such an ass Steve” echoed throughout the assembly; Fir just continued to sob at her tragic loss. The culprit ran over to Fir and got down on his knees.

“I thought it was Jeff’s cake! Honest Fir! I did!” The man bawled. Something along the lines of “you ass hat” was mumbled, presumably from Jeff. “I’ll buy you another slice! No, I’ll buy you a whole cake! I swear!”

“Okay...” Fir nodded, still sobbing softly. Cake tomorrow did not quite equal cake right now, but she would endure.

“So, so you forgive me?” Steve asked, his lower lip trembling.

“Yeah...” Fir said softly as she rubbed away a few tears. “I guess so...”

“OH THANK YOU FIR!” Steve shouted as he hugged the little girl. Jeff was busy making plans to smack Steve a good one, but then Fir remembered her other problem. It was a much bigger one.

“Hey,” She managed to sob. “Has anyone seen my brother? Karel said he was looking for me.”

The entire assembly shook their head; Seed made a visit to check on Fir at least once a day. Everyone knew what he looked like, and he had not been sighted today. This did not sit well with Fir.

“WHAT?” She screamed at the top of her lungs. “That stupid prince-a-pussy-whipped Karel said he wanted to see me! That lying sack of shit! That lousy figurehead! I’m going to take my biggest airship and ram it so far up his ass that he’s going to SPIT OUT MY CANNONBALL!”

At this point, the assembly of engineers, Fir’s bodyguards, and every single passerby was on the floor laughing. Fir didn’t exactly know what was so funny, for she had just repeated a few things she had heard other engineers say about other people. All she had done was taken them, reorganized a few words, and directed them at Karel. She pondered this as she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder.

“You shouldn’t say things like that Fir,” Came a firm voice. “You also can’t threaten the
Princeps, but I’m more concerned about that foul language.”

The man stood a little over five and a half feet. He wore a simple outfit; a red tunic with black pants. Their average quality denoted his status as a commoner, at least to the uninformed eye. His skin was the same color as Fir’s, a shade or two less than pale. His eyes were dark blue, the very same color as the little girl’s. His hair however, was a blinding contrast to her black; a fiery red. His face was serene, if not slightly worn, and he favored her with a soft smile.

“BROTHER!” Fir screamed as she leapt into his arms. He picked her up and held her, her previous sin forgotten at the moment. She nuzzled her head into his chest, and he let out a soft laugh. “Brother brother brother!”

“I got held up. Sorry,” Seed said as he handed a small brown bag to Fir. “I brought you lunch. Here.”

“Yes!” Fir shouted as she leapt down and began to rip apart the bag. She then looked up; her engineers were staring at her expectantly. She scratched her chin, and then gave a shrug. “Take the rest of the day off. And buy me some cake Steve! Oooh! A sandwich!”

“It’s peanut butter and jelly. Your favorite,” Seed said softly as he sat down on a nearby crate. Fir immediately did the same, after moving the crate closer to her brother. “I stopped by that shop you like on the way here. Got you some cookies.”

“You’re the best Seed!” Fir smiled as she took a big bite out of her sandwich. Seed the raised an eyebrow, and the little girl looked down at her dirty hands. Her face turned red.

“Ooops. Forgot to wash my hands. Sorry!” She quickly stood up and, as soon as Seed playfully rummaged a hand through her hair, she shot off to rectify her mistake. Her brother spent the time staring at one of the airships as it was gently guided onto one of the launching bays.

He often made a game out of seeing which of Fir’s ships he could recognize. He knew most of them, for he had drawn up the plans while she had explained them to him. Talented the young girl may be, but she still had trouble coloring in-between the lines. As he had some skill as an artist, he drew the ships she created, and she presented the ships to Karel. That small one to the left she had wanted to name Flying Wrath Of Awesomeness, but Karel had it named something else. That small one to its right was one of her earlier designs...

“Hey Seed,” Fir returned dejected. “I have to go to a meeting. I really don’t want to, but they said it was important...”

The young girl let her voice drain out. Seed stood up, stretched his hands, and shot her another soft smile.

“Should I wait, or come with you?”

“Oh! Will you come? Pretty please?” Fir practically begged as she yanked on his hand. “If you’re there, at least I won’t be bored all alone. Karel always talks about stuff I don’t really understand, and there’s nothing to do during those meetings but sit there by myself!”

“Then we shall go together,” Seed replied as he scooped her up. “and you can eat on the way there, while I carry you. Let’s go.”

They arrived at the meeting, which was already well underway. Seed knew little of what was going on, but took his seat as instructed anyway. Fir had her own seat (which was slight elevated), and she took it as well. The steward who showed them in had been nice enough to seat them together, and she waved a thank-you to the man. She then turned her attention to the meeting.

“So, in any case, we’d like to borrow an airship.”

The man speaking looked familiar. She suddenly had an epiphany.

“Wait! What was that?” Fir shouted as she shot to her feet (basically, she stood up on her chair). “What did he just say?”

“These people would like to borrow an airship Fir,” Karel answered. He sat at the head of the table, his wife Rebecca at his side. Across the table sat the group that Fir had run into earlier, and she had a few things to say about that encounter.

“So now you want a ship? Well, too bad numb-nuts! You can’t have one!” Fir stated as she sat back down. She then whispered a few more words to Seed. “They’re numb because I kicked them! Hee hee!”

“That’s not exactly appropriate...” Seed began to say. “In fact, that’s down right mean. Apologize.”

“He started it!” Fir complained.

“No, all he did was say your ship was...” One of Jensen’s compatriots began.

“Stupid! He called it stupid, Horny lady, and that’s not nice!” Fir shouted across the table.

“Hey!” Jensen shot up. “Neither is kicking me in my balls, which by the way, still feel like they have a rusty knife in them. No one here would happen to have a remedy for that, would they? An ointment, a pill, something would be nice.”

“I got a suppository for you! Right here!” Fir bellowed (as much as an eight-year old can). She went for her wrench; Seed stopped her.

“Be nice. I raised you better than that,” Seed whispered as he placed a hand on her shoulder. Struck by guilt, Fir lowered her eyes.

“Sorry for kicking you,” She muttered softly. “Although you did call my ship stupid, and you said I had a hard-on for it, which I think was another insult. I’m going to ask Steve later, he knows stuff like that.”

Seed did not have to think about it. His eyes zeroed in on Karel, who quickly held up his hands.

“I’ll deal with it! I’ll deal with it!” The man said weakly. The young twenty-year old had the power to intimidate the Princeps when need be, being as his little sister was the driving force behind Black Isle’s military. That, and Karel had effectively denied her the ordinary life of an eight year old, which was something Seed never tired of pointing out.

“And they can’t have an airship!” Fir threw in. “They’ll wreck it! That one looks unstable.”

It was at this time Seed noticed one member of Jensen’s groups was licking his elbow and muttering to himself. He wasn’t quite sure why, but Seed back his chair away, just in case.

“Unless...” Fir thought to herself as she tapped her chin. “Unless they want to test my new engine. Yes...yes...it needs a test run, and in the remote, but still possible event of a catastrophic, limb-severing, life-ending, torso-shredding, bladder-weakening, pants-wetting explosion...”

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen was noticing a pattern as of late. Shut up, walk forwards, and listen to whatever the people tell you. Echoes were bad, brush your teeth, and don’t pick on eight year olds, apparently they were geniuses. With a huff of boredom he walked following Princeps Karel towards the back of the palace, bringing up the rear as he watched Azza in front of him. Felicity and Aislinn aided Sei, who talked to Karel with a somewhat civilized tone, only mentally wincing three times. He seemed to keep track of his more estranged habits, but once in a while he did try to step on an imaginary creature, or as everyone learned, lick his elbows. That helped keep the voices at bay, apparently.

“I shall have my personal Retainer, Regal Burnswidth escort you to your vessel of travel. Without even bothering ask my permission Fir had her new engine installed,” Karel seemed to sigh about this and Jensen observed the man. The little girl had a lot of sway in this land, and how she became to be so powerful was beyond his understanding. Yet each mention of the Senior Adept brought about a pained look on Karel’s face, like a man who knew he committed to something wrong, but didn’t change it.

Any other thoughts of the Princeps were soon interrupted by a man in a long grey fighters coat, the edges flaring outwards forming a half circle at his feet. He had hair that was whiter than snow, a gleam in his eyes that was haunting, and a grin that echoed that of a demon. He carried on his body a single Katana, one hand always on the pommel of the weapon.

“I guess that means I get to do the tour?” He asked Karel as the Princeps walked past him down a corridor.

“They are all yours, Regal,” Karel said waving them away. They watched as he left, and with a chuckle Regal turned to look at them. He patted himself on the gut, like some construction worker after a long day of drinking beer, and flipped them a come and follow me finger as he turned.

“Black Isle is home to many things,” He said in a loud tone, thinking he was some hot shot. “It’s got airships, sure, but it also has a rare plant that we take the beans from and grind and mix with water. It’s a caffeinated beverage, helps keep people running in the long hours of the day. Black Gold, anybody heard of it?” Regal cast them all a sideways glance. He nearly walked into a horizontal pole, but somehow he managed to avoid it as everyone else had to duck.

“Ouu! I have!” Aislinn said happily. “I drink like, twelve cups a day! It’s sooooo good!” Regal gave her a cautious look.

“Ya do know you are warned to drink only a cup or two in the morning, maybe one more in the afternoon. The stuff really makes you hyperactive. I should know, gave a cup to Fir once, and she was all over the place!” Regal chuckled as the memory played in front of his eyes. He turned around and kept walking as he looked side to side. “These are the trade ships. They land for at most, a combined total of twelve hours a month. They refit, unload, reload, and take off again to start the next trade route. The only thing that keeps Black Isle in business is the tax to use our trade ships.”

Jensen and Azza stopped as they looked at a small wooden ship lurching forwards, large wheels rotating at its side like oars in water as it built up steam and whistled loudly, like a bird declaring it was about to take flight. The front and back of the vessel resembled a boat in almost every regard, but the central area was ballooned, no doubt to hold the cargo. Deck hands tossed ropes over the side, a few engineers waved them off, and a large metal door groaned open as the trade ship approached. In a matter of minutes it exited the hanger, and up it went, flying into the sky. A large warship hovered behind it, like a mother hen watching its babies as a few other trade ships flew into the sky.

Regal kept commenting on this and that, pointing out how he would do things, which sounded terribly inefficient, but Felicity played the part of ambassador well, keeping him talking and stroking his ego only when necessary to keep them walking forwards. The man was rather scattered brained for a personal guard, and after he proclaimed that all the warships should double as cruise liners Jensen seriously began to ponder why he was so highly valued.

“Now we are at the heart of the hanger!” Regal grinned wildly as he rubbed his hands together. “These here are the personal ships of the Princeps war council. And do you know why I love being here?” He asked the group, turning to look at them. By some strange stroke of luck that action saved his life as a barrel fell to the ground and clattered behind him.

“STEVE!” Regal shouted, but didn’t bother to look behind him. “I don’t think killing the Princep’s body guard is a career advancer!” Steve, a person Jensen didn’t see, spoke back with a thousand apologies, but Regal waved the man off. “As I was saying,” Regal continued, not missing a beat. Everyone nervously laughed as they all began looking out for this ominous Steve guy…

“This here is the Garnet Rose!” Jensen and Azza quickly turned to look at a very ornate and established piece of work. It was a sleek hull, akin to a Manor you would find in the woods. It was a predominately wooden vessel, but it was made of fine stock and the a highly detailed craftsmanship. The main cabins, which were located to the back of the boat like a war galleon, seemed to be looking upon the greeting center of a well established hotel. The crew were all royal guards it seemed, a few deckhands scrubbing the metal railings. A few smoke stacks lined the edge of the ship, but even they were carefully crafted to look like they belonged as a part of the ship.

“It’s used to ferry the Ambassador of Black Isle, Karla Raven, our Princep’s mother. She takes out the Garnet when she has to do some political maneuvering that would otherwise be outside Karel’s realm of abilities. Ya know, trade information, routes, and other silly things.” Apparently to Regal anything that wasn’t involved with war was considered ‘silly‘. Jensen smiled, as he honestly could relate to that. Azza seemed to smile as well, but for what reasons he didn’t know. Regal gave them all a hopeful look, and Aislinn spoke first.

“Is this our ship?” She asked excitedly. “Oh, it’s so pretty! Like a flying estate of some high noble!” Regal laughed cutting her off.

“No,” He said at last. With another laugh he turned, Aislinn looking slightly down in the dumps. Jensen and Azza both chuckled, because frankly she did walk into that one. However, ever the cheery outworlder Jensen made peace to bring her spirits back up. A soft reassuring hand placed on her shoulder did the trick, as she smiled to him, forgetting she was a ditz.

“Now this, this is a warship!” Regal said. His arms opened wide in supplication, taking a step back to marvel at the beauty of a ship that was rather small for the bravado he was giving it. Again, by taking that step back, a falling beam landed gently on the floor before his feet.

“Getting old, Steve!” Regal shouted. “I have guests with me!”

The disembodied voice of Steve spoke. “It was Jeff’s fault!” The disembodied voice of Jeff joined in, his anger clear as day.

“You’re such an ass, Steve!”

This continued on in the background before another whistle pierced the battle, signaling another ship taking leave for launch. Jensen observed the ship again and saw a few cannon ports in the sleep hull. It was painted white, like a dove, and it resembled one very much. It’s breast looked like it had a few hidden cannon ports as well and Jensen started to see the beast behind the beauty. The command port was elevated just a bit upwards and beyond the back. Three large exhaust ports were lined under the back tail fin, and several others were lined along the base of the wings where it joined the body. Though smaller, the thrust would quickly elevate and turn the ship.

“This is the Nosferatu!” Regal bowed to the boat. “Sister to the Princeps, and his Admiral of the Fleet, it is Serra Raven who commands this vessel!”

“The Princeps favors his family all the time!” A small voice called out behind them. Jensen turned and instantly shoved his hands to protect his crotch as Fir stepped forwards, although she was wearing a nightgown at this point. Jensen looked outside and noticed the sun was starting to set.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Fir?” Regal asked, but his tone wasn’t cruel, more inquisitive as to why she was here. She placed one slippered foot on the fallen beam, and balanced her way across it. Her arms held out to the side, and she teetered left and right, but walked and talked at the same time.

“Seed said I could stay up another half hour if I didn’t make fun of Karel!” Regal nodded. Jensen didn’t. Bed time was bed time! And he didn’t trust the little girl around his genitals. She looked to the Nosferatu and smiled, as she sat on the beam. “Go on, I was listening! I like it when people talk about my ships!” She said with pride. Regal nodded and turned back to the group.

“This ship-” Regal felt a slender hand rub his shoulder as a woman appeared behind him, a few engineers walking out ahead of her. She was dressed in a long Admiral’s coat, her uniform clean and pressed with a black shirt and white vest, and khaki colored pants tucked into her boots. She had long black hair that ran to her shoulders, and stunning brown eyes that looked like they could pierce your soul in two if she was angered. Her face was angular, a small cute nose and thick, lustful lips. The only thing that marred her features actually made her more endearing, and that was a long scar that covered her left eye. The milky grey of blindness seemed to affect that eye, but she didn’t let it hamper her. Jensen liked her already. The woman gave a polite nod to Fir, before looking to the group.

“You still alive in there, Sei?” She spoke, and the familiarity of her tone put Jensen at ease. She knew Sei, and Sei generally knew good people. The mute looked to her, smiled once, and lifted a hand wiggling his fingers.

“Hello, Karla.” The woman sighed.

“Not all together there, I suppose,” She whispered, a little hurt not be remembered. She turned to the group. “I am Admiral Serra Raven, and this here is the ship I asked Fir to build. No offense Regal, but you suck at telling stories.” Regal gave her a nasty look, but then with a few words mumbled he said to himself he looked upwards and began nodding in agreement to her. She smiled patting him on the back.

“It’s got a lot of teeth,” Azza said, pointing out a few Cannon hatches. Serra smiled, full of pride, and Fir stood next to her, smiling as well.

“The most cannons in the fleet!” Fir shouted. “Well aside from the Machiavelli, which is the biggest ship in the fleet, and you can’t have big without having the most, right?” Serra nodded. Fir nodded to.

“Indeed, but I opted for something the Machiavelli doesn’t have, agility. She can maneuver like no other ship in the fleet, and her compliments of cannons make her deadly to behold. The most confirmed deaths in the skies is under my banner, I even took out a few titans.” She looked down to Fir. “Only the brightest mind could conceive such a perfect vessel.” She rubbed her hands in Fir’s head. Fir nodded.

“Well, you are the sister to the Princeps, and he’s a whipped moron! He’d roll over like a dog and beg you for more when it comes to you guys!” Jensen felt a laugh gurgling in his throat but pinched his hand to stop it from coming out. “Uh oh, I gotta go to bed now,” Fir said realizing she insulted her brother, and thus she had to go to bed as per the rules. Serra waved to the group as she walked next to Fir and out of sight.

“And this, is not your vessel!” Regal said ending the short theatre show. He walked onwards and they followed. Jensen and Azza took one last look at the Nosferatu and they could feel the beasts will to fight. A captain of a ship like this had to have a small crew, all dedicated to bold strategies and daring risks. Jensen was impressed with Serra, for to be such a strong willed person was rare and unique.

“Well, Sir Burnswidth,” He smiled at that title. “Which one is to be our vessel?” Felicity said with thinning patience. Jensen nodded and turned to see Azza still looking at the Nosferatu. He tugged twice on her sleeve and she snarled swiping at his hand. With an indignant look he motioned for her to follow as Regal began walking again.

“Your ship is a glorious ship, one with history. The oldest in the fleet, one of our very first, mind you, of the warships designed by a one Jared Cesarino of Revan.” He spat on the ground after saying Revan. “We needed an airship so badly we took the plans, made them work, and the results is this massive beauty!”

They looked up a ship that was built like a steel fortress. It was very bulky, not eloquent at all, and housed a deadly array of cannons. More importantly were the several view ports, many observation towers, and the few pods on the bottom for observation as well. It looked like an iron castle in it’s giant size, and Jensen felt a sliver of intimidation from the beast.

“The Tyrant has a decorated history. You see it was named after the pirate vessel that aided Black isle when it severed it’s bonds from the Dark Elves of Revan,” He spat again. “So to honor that pirate lord, we named the first airship after his. Captain Batista has since then gone senile, but his crew seems loyal enough to stick with him.” They all marveled at the mass of steel, and Jensen suddenly came to a thought and walked to where Regal was. He was looking towards the ship, but not at the ship. When he looked over his shoulder he found the Tyrant and nearly cried.

“That’s not our boat guys,” Jensen said pointing to a run down, wooden barge that basically looked like a sea boat with a few propellers attached to it. It was old, the wood rotted in some places. The propellers looked rusty and the few metal parts were blackened and old from use and a lack of care to shine it back up. The deck and the vessel were indeed old, and Jensen wondered if he would die on the boat in the take off.

“That’s your boat!” Regal said, turning to walk away, laughing hysterically. “You didn’t think Black Isle would send anything of worth, did you?” The very idea itself made him laugh more, and Jensen sighed angrily. They all gazed upon the boat with distrust, save for Sei, who licked his elbow, looked to the boat, and smiled stepping forwards.

“She’s a fine, ship, she is. Very fine, very fine indeed.” Jensen looked to Azza, who looked to Aislinn, who looked to Felicity. Felicity, who had nobody to look to, looked back to Aislinn, and then to Azza, then to Jensen. She looked one last time at the boat, and without much more fanfare she slapped herself hard on the head gripping her cranium.

“Yup, we’re all going to die,” Azza said stepping forwards.

[orphans]

One by one, the group made their way slowly onboard with Sei in the lead this time. Even though Azza had moved to be right after him, she thought better than to follow the fairy lord directly and allowed Aislinn to aid her uncle. Smiling like a good “daughter” to Jensen, she allowed him to board as well. Azza noted his suspicion, but whether it was about the ship’s integrity or about Azza’s behavior, she didn’t know or care really.

Her true intention was revealed as Felicity walked closer to the boarding plank. The moment their eyes crossed, it created a feeling of tension that would have set the very ship aflame had it been palpable. “After you, your highness. I noticed that your love of riding an airship is rather lacking. Might I suggest taking the lower deck? It’s much more stable. That is… if you don’t want to lose your parfait.”

Forcing a laugh, Felicity tilted her head up replied casually, “I assure you, Lady Azza, I consumed no such thing and I can handle myself much better than you can think!” Yet, as the woman took her first step onto the ramp, the ship gave a sudden lurch as the crew on board scrambled to secure something. Felicity clung onto the railing of the ramp for dear life while Azza held her sides in laughter. Standing quickly, Felicity let a hiss pass to Azza before hurrying quickly up the ramp and onto the ship.

“Well, at least I’ll have fun before this tub sinks.” Reveling in her private snickering and mutterings, Azza followed after Felicity soon after in a few short bounds. Almost immediately, one of the sailors began gawking at the massive blade slung over Azza’s shoulder. Eyeing the man, Azza only spoke one word, “What?”

The man just shook his head and moved along. This time, it was Felicity’s turn and she eagerly snatched the opportunity to return fire. “He is worried that your massive compensation for the lack of something might sink the whole ship. If you let it drop, I’m sure it will add more than just a gaping hole in her.”

“Bite me Felicity.”



Lift off itself was a whole new experience for the group. It was nothing like the gentle rise that they experienced upon the trade vessel. Not even close. In fact, the entire ship shuddered, lurched, and at one point stalled and seemed to plummet a few meters before roaring back to life. Sei was surprisingly calm and even smiled while Aislinn clung onto her uncle’s arm.

Eventually, after everyone’s lives had flashed before their eyes, the Tyrant rose once more and the group was well underway once again. Despite a bit of turbulence every so often, the ride was smooth. Even so, Felicity actually took Azza’s advice and retired to the decks below.

Aislinn mentioned something about finding something to eat with her uncle. Together, the two walked off somewhere below desk. That left Azza and Jensen together once again. A few of the crew members were above, taking in readings and making sure they did their best to keep the ship afloat in the sky.

Normally, Azza would have tried to avoid the man who claimed to be her father, but the feel of cool air washing over her and the very feel of being in the sky brightened her mood. It felt good enough that she even allowed her wings to unfurl and stretch themselves, something she would have normally done in private.

“What’s with you and airships anyways?” Jensen strode up with the casual question. The girl seemed to always be in a better mood when it was about airships, so why not have that topic as the icebreaker? He just had to keep reminding himself to talk about airships, not just looking at them this time.

Azza turned to glance at Jensen for a moment, and then turned back around to stare off into the distance. “I love them. What do you want me to say about them?”

“I mean any specific reason? People aren’t exactly born loving airships.” Coming up next to her, he leaned back against the railing and looked to her. Silently, he noted that it wasn’t this hard to connect to the Azza he had back home.

Pulling her wings back against her body, she stared down at her hands upon the metal railing for a moment. “I dream of flying. Always have. Hell I have these damned things on my back, but they’re too small to actually carry me.”

“So, that’s why you like airships so much?”

Staying silent, she nodded her head as the response. Jensen’s questions made her think about things that Coyo had once asked her, specifically about her horns. “I guess… it’s also because I’d like to find where I’m from.”

“You know where you’re from then?” Straightening himself, Jensen then turned himself about so that he could stare out at the horizon with Azza.

“Pfft, I was hoping you’d know since you’re my dad apparently. Wait, lemme guess. I’m adopted.” Jensen looked over, expecting a frown, but instead was greeted by a smirk. Progress at last!

“Yeah, and we live with Sei the faggot fairy king.” At that, Azza laughed and then looked to Jensen with a slight disbelief in her eyes. “I’m serious! He’s not so bad, back where I’m from anyways.”

That made the smile disappear from Azza she turned back to stare at the horizon. Not wanting to lose his progress, Jensen scrambled to find the right words to repair the damage when Azza spoke once more, this time mumbling. “In my dreams, I think I see where I’m from and I see those like me flying…”

Cautiously, Jensen asked, “Could… you tell me the dreams?”

Arching an eyebrow with an amused look drifting about her lips, the girl shrugged. “I guess if you really want to know. It’s nothing interesting actually… just lots of snow and weirdos like me flying around doing magical shit like the Orlouges.”

“Have you tried to fly then, or used magic?”

At that, Azza peered around to make sure that Felicity or any other of the Orlouges weren’t around to hear her. “Yeah... I can jump really high, but actually flying… I’m a bit unbalanced. As for magic... I'd rather not be anything like those I detest...”

Sensing that it was a sensitive topic, Jensen backed off quickly and racked his brain for something else to talk about, anything besides Azza’s abilities. “So um… what was the favor you did for that captain anyways?”

At that, Azza grinned. Her lips continued to stretch into a smile as she looked Jensen over once, trying to understand why he was even asking so many things. If anything, he seemed more like a stalker than a father at the moment. “Are you sure you really want to know?”

That one question put Jensen in a hard place and somewhere rather awkward. If he said no, Azza would most likely take offense and all the improvement he had would be wasted. If he said yes, he was afraid he would never be able to look at his little Azza back home the same again. Steeling himself for whatever the result, Jensen answered with a confident, “Yes.”

“He rammed a piston into me… here.” With a grin, she drifted a finger down her middle until it settled on her stomach. Watching Jensen’s horrified reaction she choked up and felt the need to laugh, however, she managed to hold herself still. “Of course when he pried it out, it was a bit bloody and he apologized like a gentlemen.”

At that, Jensen made a few erratic motions before settling his hands on his head, as if trying to rid himself of the images. “Okay, okay. I think I get the picture. Never mind I asked.”

Giggling, Azza continued despite his protests. “Of course, that was only the beginning. I couldn’t move for quite a while. Most of his crew and even Coyo got to watch what happened to me.” Jensen looked as though he was going to be sick and began to move away. Unable to hold it in any longer, she began laughing.

“I’m gonna to blow chunks…”

As Jensen turned to leave, Azza grabbed onto his shirt and held him firmly for him to stay. “Oh come on, dad. I was just kidding.” Letting go when she saw the man turn around, she leaned against the railing again and stared out over the horizon. “Truth is I did get impaled by a piston, but from the ship’s engine not the captain, you sick bastard.”

Jensen nodded a bit confused at what she said. “But you’re still alive, obviously.”

“Yup. Pressure built up in a faulty compartment and burst. I managed to shove the captain out of the way and I got stay a few hours extra on the ship.” Snickering, her eyes looked over to Jensen to check quickly that he wasn’t going to spray a meal at her. “For that, the captain owed me his life. Since I lived though, I brought it down to that he just owed me a really big favor.”

“I think I’m done asking personal questions. Let’s go back to airships…”

Azza retained the smile and nodded her head. “Fine by me.”

[Silence Sei]

Aislinn had told everyone she was going to eat with her uncle. In reality, the girl knew that the mute Mystic would not enjoy this time in the air much longer. Indeed, it would be a matter of moments below the deck before Sei's eyes started to widen, and he began to let out a series of hushed wails. Visions of watching friends and family die before his eyes flowed into his mind, and Aislinn did her best to rush her relative to his quarters. Some rest would do the older Mystic wonders.

When Sei got to his room, the visions began to leave his head. He waited to make sure that Aislinn would not be returning for a bit. Once that was confirmed, Sei walked over to the bed he had rushed to during an earlier exploration of the ship. Reaching under the mattress, Sei pulled out a tome with a black cover, dust littering its title. The text was known as The Gospel According to William Arcus. It was one in a series of five books that Sei had written to honor his fallen friends.

The mute clung to the book as if his life depended on it. Sei had been accused by Azza of not protecting her home hard enough. While it was true that Sei had sent only one man to defend Mother Holly's orphanage, it was Sei's greatest warrior. William Arcus, a man who had fell so many in his time that he was known as a demon on the battlefield. The Revenant they would call him. While William was just one person, his training as a woodsman had provided the man with all the training he needed to slay over a thousand of Xsenjen's men before becoming exhausted, and falling himself. Azza probably had only seen the one soldier, not his deeds. It was totally understandable why the girl despised Sei so.

A knock interrupted Sei's memories. The telepath turned to the door to find the displaced Jensen Ambrose coming into the room. Sei stroked his beard, a smile forming upon his lips as he tucked the book back underneath the bed. "Mr. Jensen sir, how can I help yo.....OUU today?" Jensen raised an eyebrow at the warrior, obviously contemplating questions about the book. The immortal dshrugged, however, finding himself on more pressing matters with the former leader of the Ixian Knights

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about these 'voices' you hear. What exactly do they tell you? How often do they come? What do they sound like?" The man was full of questions, each one causing Sei to tilt his head one way or another, as if the mute was paying him no mind. When the ramblings finally finished, the defeated Sei Orlouge shook his head, bringing a solitary finger to his lips.

"First rule of the voices; Never talk about the voices. They don't like that, no they don't. They ask me to do things to peo....PLE! They want me to do nasty things, evil things. Can't sleep, Clowns'll eat me! The beans stole all the plushies from my flamingos! So often they come! Haven't slept in ye......ARS! I know they're wrong, they're always wrong! I fight em in my head, sometimes work, sometimes doesn't! They have names you know, the voic......CES!"

Jensen blinked in curiosity, finding himself with even more questions. There was one that seemed to stick out more than any other. "Your voices have names? What do they call themselves?" Surely, Sei had not been so far gone that he started naming disembodied whispers, could he?

"The names of the voices, yes yes! They call themselves----"

Before Sei could finish, there was a terrible trembling on the ship. Sei's yes widened as he gripped his head, and thrashed his form back and forth wildly. "THEY'RE BACK! THE VOICES RETURN! LICKING ELBOW HAS STOPPED WOR......KING!" Sei quickly formed daggers out of pure shadow and ran past Jensen Ambrose, attempting to ignore the plague in his head and find out what the rumbling of the ship was.

Sei found himself coming up to two glaringly evil yellow eyes. A black form of shadow had placed two giant talons into the deck of the ship. Opening it's massive jaws, it began to hack up more shadows, that slowly began to take form. Sei knew what this carrier was before the man in the crows next had even shouted the words 'Sky Titan'. This had been a beast that slain the mighty Talen Shadowalker. This was a thing that took Sei's friend from him.

Talen and Sei had been fighting side by side during one of the lesser campaigns. All seemed to be going smoothly until Xsenjen's troops released their Sky Titans. The dragon like creatures darkened the sky and immediately went towards Talen. Sei tried to save his friend, opening the top of the beast's jaw as it clamped down on the shadow warrior. Sei had been too late, and found himself looking at Talen Shadowalker, in all of his grown-up glory, literally chewed up and forced out. The man was still alive, but both him and his friend knew there was no hope. Sei closed his eyes as the horrible memory of having to snap his generals neck with his own arms haunted him once more.

"YOU WILL NOT TAKE THE SPAGHETTI-OS!" Sei shouted, a rather unusual war cry. Without any regard for who else may have been on the deck at this point, the mute began throwing rows after rows of shadow knives. Xsenjen would pay. His troops would crumble.

Sei Orlouge would have his revenge, voices or no!

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen followed after Sei, watching him speak in hushed whispers of rage and loss all the way to the top of the deck. Before he even got a chance to see what was happening the words echoed from the crow’s nest yet again and all hands on the ship ran towards the top deck.

“SKY TITAN!” The man bellowed. “ALL HANDS TO STATIONS, IT’S LODGING INTO THE HULL!” The ship did a violent bank and turned sideways almost fully as the weight of the titan came to bear. Its wide wings flapped in the air, creating a gust of wind the shoved the soldiers forwards and into the oncoming warriors who meant to protect their vessel. Jensen watched as a solider jumped up and grappled with a sailors face, his screams muffled as he ran until two more soldiers tripped him and over the railing he went.

With another manatee like wail the Sky Titan bent its head to the deck, letting out another obnoxious deluge of black ink that formed more and more soldiers. Jensen looked behind him to find Azza standing at his back. She looked into his eyes, and both nodded as she shoved a dagger into his hand, drawing up a sword. They both charged forwards and bellowed war cries as they flanked Sei on both sides, hacking and fighting the echoes.

“All hands on deck, make sure the cannons are tied down! Don’t let it capsize the vessel!’ The captain shouted over the screams of battle. The portly man turned over to the titan and gave it a cruel glare. “Hello there,” He lifted up a pistol and aimed it. “I demand that passengers ask permission before people board my vessel!” The gunshot echoed in the air, hitting the beast on its snout as the creature recoiled in irritation, one claw dislodging itself from the vessel. That claw came crashing down, and the captain was snatched in the beasts grip before being tossed overboard.

“Holy crap!” Jensen shouted watching the scene unfold. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?” The immortal bellowed. The beast let out another wail and lowered its head, spewing even more Echoes on the deck. The soldiers took form and began attacking everything they could, adding more and more weight to the ship’s side.

“It too…OOOk Talen from me!” Sei shouted in a rage. “Won’t give back my soup!” Sei added as an afterthought. Jensen and Azza fought back to back as they made a living wall in front of Sei as she continued to harass the Sky Titan. At last the beast let go of the vessel and with a lurching sound of wood snapping and metal groaning the ship righted itself. Both sides of the battle stumbled to their feet and Jensen nearly lost all his balance as the beasts scrambled back to their feet.

The titan did a lap around the ship, roaring at them before diving down out of site. Jensen turned to check on Azza, seeing she was standing over Sei and gripping the back of his shirt with one hand, sword in the other as she dragged him back towards the center of the ship where everyone was gathering. Aislinn and Felicity had shown up, Aislinn wielding a staff with proficiency that the immortal hadn’t expected from her. Felicity on the other hand was utilizing her umbrella like it were a sword and casting eldritch magic at the beast. They all looked to each other as Sei grumbled about his boots, a few daggers of shadows flinging into the soldiers surrounding them.

"What the hell are we going to do?" Jensen shouted to the sailors. They all grunted as they fought until one stood up and walked to him amidst the fighting.

"Captain's gone overboard, and we can't get to the cannons unless we get rid of the damned Echoes! Any ideas?" He asked the group. Aislinn turned to Felicity and the woman shook her head, but Jensen looked to Aislinn recalling a memory of when they had met for the first time in his world.

"Aislinn!" Jensen shouted. "Do you know how to do your Mystic Protection spell?" The woman nodded as Azza turned and covered Aislinn, letting the woman get a break and rush to Jensen's side. She was smiling, as if happy to be useful. The immortal pointed to himself. "Cast it on me, then have another Mystic cast the spell. I'll draw them down into the ground!"

"What the hell you thinking?" Azza called back with strained effort. "Run at them like a pinball and wait for the spell to go off?" Jensen looked to his daughter and smiled. She looked at him, gave a small grin, and redoubled her efforts. "I see where I get my bold cunning from," She whispered.

"Do it!" Jensen ordered as he ran with the sailor to the end of the ship where the cannons were located. He felt the bubble take shape around him and the immortal let out a wild laugh as he charged forwards ahead of the warriors, slamming his body into the soldiers crushing them underneath the Mystic Protection spell. They all squealed and hissed as he hit them, the glass fracturing until at last it shattered, sending shards in every direction impaling several Echoes and killing them. Before the enemy could regroup Felicity lifted her hands and another shield was placed over Jensen. Jensen ran towards the hull and jumped down the stairs, slamming the shield into the enemy and letting it go off without interference. The Echoes screamed again and this time their wails were answered as the Sky Titan shouted again.

Jensen ran back up the stairs as sailors ran down them to reach the cannons. As soon as they reached the ports they opened the grates and began loading up their weapons. Jensen made it back to Felicity who looked to him with a growing irritation. They both gave each other a curt nod before the woman pulled at the top of her umbrella, revealing a hidden blade within the depths and slicing two soldiers down before returning the weapon to the umbrella’s base.

“Any other tricks I should be aware of?” Jensen muttered as he tossed his knife and killed a Soldier that was attempting to tackle Aislinn. Felicity let out a grunt of rage as her hand lifted up, a wall of shadows lifting up and ensnaring the beasts. Before she could answer the Sky Titan returned, bellowing another call as it swooped forward. When it was about to land the airship rocked side to side as thunder rumbled in the skies. The cannons all fired and the beast took several hits, nearly falling to its death before spiraling downwards and coming back up angrily. Just as it was about to try the other side the ship let go of another volley.

“We should prepare ourselves post haste in the event we begin to sink.” Felicity ordered as she calmly turned to Aislinn and walked to her.

The man in the crows nest pointed to the beast and shouted wildly, flailing his other arm. "It's going for the engine!" That was the last the sailor shouted as the ship lurched forwards, trembling again as the Sky Titan made a feast of the engine and the rear of the ship. Wood flew up in the air and then glittered down like rain as the beast tore into the vessel. The ship propellers all groaned, then stopped as the ship began to plummet, picking up speed.

"Holy shit! Abandon ship! Abandon ship!" The crew all scrambled as they made their way for the life boats, but the Echoes were there to greet them as the Sky Titan took flight once more. It looked upon the falling ship, keeping pace as its wings beat heavily in the air until it released another wave of Echoes onto the ship. This time they weren't so short and cuddly, taking on a man like shape.

"Astartes!" Aislinn screamed. Jensen pulled his dagger close in as the newly formed enemy began to run a muck against the ship. They killed sailors as they ran, forming weapons in their hands. Jensen grabbed Azza by the arm and ran with her as they made a break for an airboat. Just as they were about to reach their safety the boat rocked and capsized. It fell down at a spiral, sending cannons, supplies, and people to their doom as the Sky Titan looked upon it from the clouds.

They all screamed as they fell, Jensen watching the ground coming for them. He saw a river and grabbed Azza tightly, shoving her face into his chest as he held onto her tightly.

"Daddy's got you kiddo, shut your eyes and hold on tight!" The immortal ordered. The wind flapped his jacket as he clenched his eyes tight, his heart fluttering as he did his best not to scream in terror. Azza gripped his shirt and pressed her face against his chest, and the immortal held her all the tighter for it. The wind became deafening and he lost track of how long they fell. For some it felt like ages, for Jensen it wasn’t nearly long enough. He heard a loud splash, felt a sharp pain, and then everything inside his body gave out as the immortal died from the impact.

[orphans]

For how long Azza laid upon the bank of the river, she didn’t know. All she did know was that bad luck of the largest magnitude struck and now she was somewhere she didn’t know. Of all things to encounter they just happened upon a Titan. Without meaning to, her mind filtered back to the last moments before impact, of how the crew were trying to board life boats, of how the Orlouges were separated from her and Jensen, and finally… of how Jensen, her father, had done something so stupid. He used himself as a shield for her against impossible odds.

It wasn’t until she tried to move her hand did she feel the texture of Jensen’s jacket, damp from the river. Not wanting to, she opened her eyes hesitantly and saw his still form beside her. “Idiot...” Yet, even as she whispered it, she could feel a tight constricting feeling in her chest. She had seen plenty of her friends die and those that she held dear, so why should this have been any different?

“You idiot…” Her voice grew to a wavering tone as she pushed herself up with her arms and elbows. Despite the regeneration, her body felt sore, but as much as she wished that was the reason for tears, she knew it wasn’t why her eyes began to mist.

He had claimed to be her father and though it may have been true, it was obvious to her now that he wasn’t the half with her abnormalities. Feeling a tear roll down her cheek, she turned away from the sight of his body and glanced out over the water of the river. What she saw made her tears dry right away with a frown.

Among the larger debris that was in the river, was none other than Sei Orlouge floating in a life boat. The fact that he was humming and looking about randomly, as if nothing had happened, irritated the girl more than it should have. Her temples throbbed in a rising anger and by reflex she brought up a hand to massage them. “For the love of…”

Azza was never able to finish that sentence as a hand grabbed onto her foot. Snapping her eyes down, she saw the hand of Jensen Ambrose, once deceased father now raised again, grabbing on with a groan. Joy was the last thing that flooded into young lady as she screamed, “YOU ASSHAT!” and kicked him hard in the side.

The man groaned again and held his side. Eventually, he managed to wheeze, “The hell was that for?” Whatever he answer he had expected he didn’t expect Azza to grab onto him and begin crying softly.


It took a bit of combined effort from both Jensen and Azza to reel in the oblivious Sei. Then again, whether he was really oblivious or not was to be determined. Out of necessity, Azza forced a smile and listened to his ramblings. Thankfully, Jensen stepped in and diverted the attention away from Azza.

“So… what do we do now?” Taking a glance around them, Azza couldn’t help but feel the claws of despair gripping at her. She was lost, she was pretty sure Jensen was lost, and Sei definitely didn’t even make it out the living room in her head. At least that was Azza’s opinion until she watched Sei lift a finger.

“To the Hag QueEn.”

Amazed that she actually understood anything that gibbered out of the loon, she watched as he began moving off in front of her and Jensen. Turning to her father, she asked silently with her eyes for an opinion. The shrug she received made her bring her hand to her face.

“Better than just staying here. Come on let’s go before we lose sight of him.”

With defeat and utter doom etched into her features, she resigned herself with a sigh and followed after them. “Our fate is in the hands of a guy who licks his elbows... fuck my life.”

[Enigmatic Immortal]

The trip was rather quiet as the land they traversed was marshy and cold. Their was an ominous rolling fog in the air, the wispy white smoke lifting to the air to add a dreary after battle scene. Their was no life, only rotted out trees and long burned homes. The grass that was green was sickly in color, and the only constant was the sound of shuffling. In his world, Revan was a dead land, most of the place covered in undead. Now he had undead and Echoes to look out for.

Sei walked in a zig zag pattern, talking to himself as he once again went back to licking his elbows and snapping a finger. Azza looked to the desolation around them and frowned, the immortal noticing she tried to avoid the shelters with her gaze. The sound of the Sky Titan overhead startled them all, and for a brief moment they had thought it came to finish them. Yet it merely flew overhead, wailing a cry as it took off, flapping it’s mighty wings. Their was another sound, a groan of something un-alive, but it was silenced.

“Place gives me the creeps,” Azza mumbled loudly. Jensen nodded as they turned a corner that Sei walked. He stopped and pointed forwards, and Jensen’s gaze looked to find a rather large looking Cloud of Darkness. From it the black inky like forms of the enemy took shape, but surrounding the cloud like moths to a flame were several undead zombies, all scuffling as they fought against the Echoes. Jensen wisely grabbed Sei by the collar and they all moved outwards and away from the scene.

“Jesus, no wonder they allied with Xsenjen,” The immortal mumbled. Azza gave him a bleak look of confusion. He looked to her and shrugged gesturing to the surrounding area. “If your land looked like this hell hole and you were plagued with undead, wouldn’t you ally yourself with the power that could stop the gods?” Azza looked to Jensen, then to Sei, and nodded.

“I suppose in one way I can understand wanting to team with the enemy to take care of a problem,” She said darkly as she bore holes into Sei. If the mute knew of her anger, he didn’t show it. He continued to lead them forwards, deeper into the tight broken alleyways of the broken town. They turned down a walkway that was closed to them on all sides. A one way path before them made them all uneasy as Sei began to fidget with his hands near his side. Azza placed her hand on the pommel of her sword and drew it. Jensen looked to his body and sighed again realizing he really needed to find himself a weapon.

“Potato Soup, the undead’s weakness,” Sei thought to Jensen, tapping the side of his brain. Jensen rolled his eyes as they walked. They were about half way down the alley when they started to hear sounds of disturbances on the other side of the wall. Whatever it was, it was following them and Sei let out a whimper. Jensen tightened his hands as they walked.

“This is bad, I got-” Jensen lifted his hand and covered Azza’s mouth.

“First rule of creepy places! Anybody who has a bad feeling is just begging for that feeling to come true! Next up, the virgin’s always die last, so you should be good…uh…right?” Jensen looked to Azza, and she gave him a snaky look and a wink. Jensen pondered if she was playing games again, but when he turned to figure the answer out about his bad feeling on the situation of Azza’s sexual activity, the wall burst and the mortar rained down on them.

A creature fell to the floor, snarling and gnashing its teeth as an Echo, an astartes, was pounding one hand into it. The creatures claw like arm slammed into the echoes head, obliterating it and it let out a howl before returning to its feet and glaring at Sei.

“Ouu! A puppy! Anita always liked pu…UPIES!” Again the wolf like thing howled and ran forwards at an alarming rate. Azza stepped forward and held her weapon at the ready, but it was Jensen who acted first pulling out his last throwing glaive and tossing it. With lethal accuracy it impaled the beasts left eyeball and it snarled and beat itself into the side of the building on their right, smashing the wall down and grunting as dust escaped into the air. Jensen pushed Azza, who grabbed Sei as he waved goodbye to the creature and ran.

Jensen sprinted as fast as he could, urging his two charges to run faster as they neared the end of the tunnel like pathway. The beast let out another howl as a rock flew at Jensen, clattering on the ground just inches in front of him as it nearly took his head. He turned his body and prepared to hold off the monster, but Azza had grabbed his hand and tugged hard.

“I can’t fight these undead things all alone! I need your help, so come on!” She spoke logic and the immortal relented to her advice as he turned quickly again. The beast was nearing them and the knight could hear the dog’s pants as it barked at them. Jensen pushed as fast as he could go, but the beast was easily upon them in moments.

It tackled Jensen and pushed him onto the street, face first as they escaped the tunnel. It skidded on the paved gravel, kicking up rocks as it turned to look at Jensen, one eye bleeding, the other looking at him in rage. Azza took her sword and clove for the beast’s exposed side, but it reached one hand out and blocked the blow, turning upon her and punching her hard in the chest. She lifted up off her feet and flew for a yard, bouncing on her butt and rolling to her stomach as she let out an exasperated grunt.

Jensen grabbed a handful of gravel and thought about his options as the beast came at him, teeth flaring as drool escaped its lips like a fountain. He tossed the debris in the beasts face, irritating the wound and blinding the other eye as it howled and let out a yelp of frustration. Jensen dove head first slamming into the beasts knees, buckling it as it fell to the ground.

Both combatants were back upon their feet, the beast flailing about as Jensen bobbed back and forth on the soles of his feet. He kicked at the monsters snout, striking it hard and it tripped backwards, its body crashing on the ground. Jensen dove inwards with hand held high to try and choke its life out, but one extended paw like foot pushed on his stomach and belted him backwards. The immortal rolled with the hit, coming up and slamming into a wall. His vision blurred and he spat out involuntarily as the beast rose to its feet again.

Azza had managed to weakly stand back up, sword held high as she prepared to charge, but Sei merely grabbed her by the collar. She turned to swat at him, but the sound of something else joining the battle reverberated in the still air. An Echo lurched out of the tunnel, its horns were longer and it had claw like talons for hands. Easily it ducked under a claw strike from the beast, slamming its talons into the creatures chest.

“RUN!” Jensen used all his energy to shout the phrase. He didn’t want to stick around and fight the winner of werewolf versus Legionnaire Astarte. Azza grabbed Sei and the mute pointed towards a path down the forested road. They broke for it and Jensen turned one head back, watching the werewolf howl in the air as it attacked at the Echo again, the creature blocking the strike and retaliating with force.

“Why is a big baddy here?” Azza asked more to herself than to Jensen. The immortal gave her a confused look. “Sorry, it’s what the kids call the legionnaires. Still, they don’t usually hunt in the wild. They are formed to protect the masters that summoned them, or lead other Astarte. Wild Legionnaires are unheard of.” Jensen shrugged as he ran, looking forwards. The forest was getting thicker, but Sei just kept giggling as he showed them the way.

“OoooOOh Yes! Now we are lost! We can find the Hag Quuueen now!”

“You got us lost?” Azza shrieked. Jensen felt his own anger rise with hers. Sei nodded dumbly. “You fucking faggot fairy king! Scratch that, you aren’t even a king anymore, unless its king of the mind fucked nimrods! Thaynes sake, go back to licking your elbow and smelling like last weeks outhouse droppings!”

“Oooh, you no…OOOticed my new perfume, did yo…oou?” Azza let out an exasperated, frustrated scream as she ran, Jensen feeling her on the matter. As they ran in the thicket Jensen was about to grab Sei to stop him from running, but as soon as he lifted his hand his eyes narrowed in suspicion, taking a whiff of the air. It smelled foul, like a bog, and he slowed his steps and looked ahead.

“Fucking…lunatic. Do you just make this shit up as you go?” Jensen breathed. Azza was about to say something before she caught sight of what Jensen saw. Sei smiled proudly as he presented his arms forwards, like he was showing off a fancy toy.

In the middle of a barren bog there was a lone two story house. Several Clouds of Darkness formed around the house, but every time the inky blotches of the Echoes tried to seep into the world, a baleful wind would blow it away. When that wind passed over Jensen he could feel a sense of dread overwhelming him, and he heard a soft demonic like chuckle.

They starred at the dark tower of the Hag Queen, confused as to if Sei had known all along this was where it was, or if he just happened upon it.

[KOA]

A shriek in the air turned Vladimir’s head as he gazed upwards from the carnal house of the plains before the Tower of Geddon, a Sky Titan signaling its return from battle. Instinctively his hands moved to his weapons, but the idea was foolish as he looked down upon the bottom of the Crimson Gulch. The red stains there were a reminder that Xsenjen’s power was absolute, and not even the combined power of the world could defeat him.

He took in a lungful of the artic air, feeling the crisp touch of the winter snow nip at his exposed flesh. He flexed his fingers as he watched the Sky Titan fly, it’s large ominous wings scattering drifts of snow everywhere before landing in front of Broxsam. The void creature lifted a solitary hand up, and the Titan bowed to the Praetorian of Xsenjen, before the man turned away, the creature crawling on the ground in tow.

“I do not trust that, that, thing!” Vladimir felt his choler rise as he watched Broxsam enter the domain of Xsenjen. He spat over the edge rudely as he turned, his two Legionnaire guardians moving in time with him. He entered the tower again and gazed into the chasm below as he walked the spiraling staircase. His mother was sitting in the darkness next to the fire, reading a book and smiling with her veil still over her features. His father was in the process of pulling on a set of chains and rising up something deep within a well, a loud groan entering the room and echoing off the walls signifying that whatever was coming up had endured tortures nobody should ever see.

“Steppanwolf, wake up,” Xavier said darkly as he paced the well. Vladimir wondered how in the world his father managed to keep the Mystic hero of the second war alive, which brought a deeper respect from Vladimir for the man. Where once he had wild hair, it was now nothing more than few mangy strands over a bald surface. One eye was shut forever, eternally puffed and bruised. The other eye was always opened at a half slit, mouth gaping open in a controlled stupor. He had lost almost all his mass, being practically starved to death, but still he held onto some noble dignity. Steppanwolf had yet to completely break under the intense torture he was being faced with.

The well was a hole that led to a deep pocket that was covered with Clouds of Darkness. This pocket was known as a life stream as his mother had explained to him. One of the many that nurtured the land and spread the corruption of the void like roots of a tree. These veins would pulse under ground and like a magnet the Clouds that fell from the Shroud of Shadows would hover near them, and thus Xsenjen’s influence would grow. Still, to be near a life stream would expose you to the void in its most concentrated form. The terrors of that were unknown, but if Steppanwolf was any indicator, it was unimaginable.

“Is it lunch time?” Steppanwolf smacked his lips in hunger. Xavier laughed lifting up a straw that led to water, and let his prisoner drink before turning to his son. Vladimir rose his hand in greeting as he watched Steppanwolf drink greedily from the straw. Xavier looked to the man before he lowered himself and lifted up some food.

“Alright, you drank enough, now eat some of this.” Xavier handed him the cured meat, and the giant of a man ate it with gnashing teeth. He smacked his lips and chewed loudly, grunting as he attempted to inhale the food. Xavier watched this with his eyes narrowed, and slowly he lowered the plate and looked to his wife. She rose her head from the book, and softly nodded her head.

“Steppanwolf,” Xavier said forcefully. “What have you been gazing in the void?” The question left Vladimir taken by surprise, and strangely enough the Mystic didn’t hesitate to answer as he looked to his Xavier like they were comrades.

“Oh it’s a storm a brewin‘!” Steppanwolf laughed as he continued to eat more food. Vladimir looked to his father who gave him a pained look before returning his gaze to the giant of a man. “You were right, Xsenjen’s off his rocker. He’s planning something, and it’s not going to end well for this world if we don’t do something about it soon. The key was just the first step, but arrival of the newcomer was the real trick.” Steppanwolf burped loudly which got a stiff sigh from Victoria as he returned to her reading.

“Jensen Ambrose,” Xavier said in a bemused fashion. Vladimir at last found his courage to speak.

“What is going on here?” Vladimir asked. Xavier looked to Vladimir, and so did Steppanwolf and both smiled fondly. The fact they were smiling infuriated the warrior and feeling their masters anger the two legionnaires rose to challenge them.

“It seems you need to slowly be brought into the circle, my son. I had feelings that when Broxsam showed up, something amiss was going to happen. To ensure your safety I fought my way to Steppanwolf and made my plight. There is considerable danger in dwelling in the void as he does, but he could do it, I know it. The gains one gets when exposed that long is the ability to see parts and fragments of the void in its entirety.”

“Broxsam serves our lord, Xsenjen! What you do is heresy!” Vladimir shouted angrily. Steppanwolf laughed as Xavier rose a hand.

“Let me explain this,” Xavier said lightly. Before he could speak again the Echoes behind Victoria all opened their eyes as one, turning to look at the door as the Legionnaires behind Vladimir glanced that direction as well. Steppanwolf looked to the wood and whistled loudly.

“We’re screwed.” He spoke as if this was a blatant fact. The portal to the Tower of Geddon opened and with a loud creak several soldiers rushed in with Astartes in their wake surrounding the well and the room. With a loud clicking sound of a cane upon stone Broxsam entered the room, eyes cast upon Xavier in a cruel chuckle.

“Would you care to explain why this traitor breaths?” Broxsam asked, his voice being echoed out from the dozens of void creatures. Xavier looked to Steppanwolf, and the Mystic nodded slowly looking to Vladimir.

“Ignis Fatlis,” Steppanwolf said quickly. “Ignis Fatalis!” He started shouting the word over and over and Vladimir became confused and startled. Broxsam lowered his gaze into a menacing grin as the soldiers ran forwards at Steppanwolf. Xavier lifted his hands to his guns, but he never drew them. Victoria flipped the page of her book and read on.

“Remember it boy! I don’t care what it takes, but remember that phrase!” Steppanwolf called out as the soldiers jumped upon his wooden frame, adding more weight. The tiny creatures passed Xavier without any indication of attacking him as they piled upon the Mystic.

Vladimir was beside himself with frustration and confusion as the beasts tore at him, ripping his chains until they broke and down the giant went, his screams echoing down the well as he crashed hundreds of feet below.

“Such is the fate of all those who cross Lord Xsenjen and the void,” Broxsam said with sick satisfaction, turning on his heel and walking away from the scene. “Come Xavier, Lord Xsenjen will want to know of your little secret hobby with the enemy.” The Astartes all motioned to Xavier to move, and with so many he had no choice and regrettably he started to march forwards.

All this happened while Vladimir watched in stunned silence.

[orphans]

Meanwhile...

To say the smell of the barren bog made Azza gag would have been an understatement. Hell, the very stench made Sei Orlouge seem as fresh as a field of golden buttercups. Despite all this, the fact that Sei Orlouge actually led them to where they needed to be took Azza completely by surprise.

The soft demonic chuckles weren’t helping to calm the young woman’s nerves either. Besides the fact that they were just annoying, it reminded the young woman of horrible memories. Even so, Azza couldn’t quite shake the sarcasm from her voice as she mumbled more to herself, “Lovely, wonder if the Lord of Fairies can find us a nice picnic spot next…”

Seeing Jensen in obvious discomfort, Azza wondered quietly to herself as to why. She would have never guessed that there was an aura of dread about the area. In fact, all Azza could really concentrate on was the fact that they didn’t seem to be in any constant danger. That in itself, made Azza nervous as it was a dangerous assumption. Ever since Xsenjen’s reign, the maw of a dragon would have been a safer place to spend the night than anywhere else in Althanas.

Staring at the two story house for what she felt was a long time, Azza then cleared her throat and waved towards it. “Are we just going to stand here all day and wait for one of the big baddies to come for us, or should we at least knock and ask for dinner?”

“OoooOOoo Dinner… Mu- HUud caaekes!”

Watching Sei clap his hands together in an agonizingly slow pace was what made Azza feel a true sense of dread wash over her entire form. If the Hag Queen was the key to what they needed, Azza was seriously doubting their chances while Sei Orlouge was anywhere in sight. Then again… maybe she owed him some half-assed favor, just like the Technocracy of the Black Isles.

Oh how the very thought and imagination of possibilities made the girl’s enthusiasm sink even lower. As much as she hated to admit it, things were much more orderly when Felicity, and even Aislinn, was around. Without meaning to, Azza was beginning to miss two of the people that she thought she hated more than the whole world itself.

Throwing the thoughts out of her head in frustration, she took a deep breath and before anyone could make a move to stop her or say anything, Azza strode up quickly and banged upon the doors. “Hope someone’s home…”

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Whatever Jensen was expecting, this wasn’t it. As Azza continued to bang upon the door an excited childlike voice shouted that they would get it, followed by a tussle, some shuts, and the childlike voice shouting ‘No Fair.’ Slowly the door crept open and a pair of eyes observed Azza and Jensen, Sei behind them looking up at the sky as his elbow made way for his lips. She hid behind the door and took in a deep breath.

“Mo~om,” Her voice cut clean across the house. “There’s a couple of weirdoes to see you! A horned freak and some bondage slave with their mentally handicapped friend!” Jensen’s eyes narrowed to his own body as he looked at the clothing he wore. Where she dug up bondage slave was beyond him. His clothing only looked a little tattered and torn, like he was…He supposed it did look about right. Azza on the other hand tenderly touched her horns before glaring and turning her face away.

“I’m in the study, Aerith,” a sensuous voice called back, floating on the wave of dread that washed over Jensen and Azza. Sei didn’t seem to notice it as his tongue fell out of his mouth, drooling as he looked to a bird in flight. With one careful finger he poked Sei’s tongue back in.

“Mom doesn’t wanna see you,” the girl made a motion to shut the door. Jensen stuck his foot in the frame and the wooden oak refused to shut, despite how hard Aerith tried to slam the door into the immortal’s foot. “Come on, go away!” She urged as she sighed in frustration. “Cat! Go grab one of my knives! These idiots won’t go away!” The little girl known as Cat had blond hair and the older one, Aerith, had fire red hair, both pale and slender as if they hadn’t spent much time in the sun or outside. Considering the area and the times, it was no small wonder.

“Listen you teenage prosti-tot,” Jensen said firmly. “Shove your attitude down your pie hole, go find your mommy and tell her Jensen Ambrose wants to see the Hag Queen. While you're at it, think about the horrible choices in life you made.”

“MOM!” Aerith screamed now. “He’s being an ass!”

“BAD WORD, BAD WORD! You owe me a gold coin!” a little girl chirped happily as a knife passed through Jensen’s vision into the house. Quickly the knife darted out, but before Jensen could grab it Azza’s fingers nimbly reached around the frail pale wrist of Aerith, slamming it against the door until the knife dropped. Jensen would have kissed her if he wasn’t in the middle of a struggling contest. He looked to the chain that held the door from opening all the way and began to pull on the door with all his might.

“Your mother doesn’t love you! You’re adopted!” Jensen shouted as he put both hands on the door and pulled. Azza quickly caught on that he was trying to rip the door and easily leant her strength. “Come on, stop being such a bitch and let us in!”

“KANE!” Aerith was in hysterics now as she lost control of the situation. Where there once was a red headed girl named Aerith there was now an adult, eyes lined in the blackest of night and a finely crafted silk shirt that barely covered his frame. He gave Jensen an apologetic look, and slowly a very well crafted axe rose from his side and down in a deathblow.

“SWEET MOTHER OF THE GODS!” Jensen dodged the attack, sliding his foot forwards as he looked to his own reflection in the sheen of the metal.

“Persephone…eeee?” Sei replied. Azza let out another frustrated sigh and Jensen began to worry if the girl was grinding her teeth.

“Please remove yourselves from this premise,” Kane asked nicely as the axe swung down again. Jensen grabbed at the haft, but Kane pulled it away with a twist and a disgruntled sigh. “Mr. Ambrose, if you rip this door open I will be forced to cut you down where you stand. The Queen would not like blood on her doormat.”

“I would! Stab him dead, dad!” Aerith shouted angrily.

“Ya, blood!” Cat called from behind him, holding a small knife in her hands like a sword. Jensen kept his foot planted but retreated behind the door looking to Azza. She gave him a shrug, hand going to the handle of her sword but the immortal shook his head coming up with an easier solution.

“Fine, I won’t break into your house if you won’t close the door, deal?” Jensen offered to the only semi-sane person in this entire operation. Kane remained quiet, but after several seconds of silence he spoke.

“Acceptable.” Jensen slowly removed his foot as Kane stepped back and Aerith sulked away with Cat in tow, both mumbling to each other. They didn’t even look back at the immortal. Kane stood as guardian to the Hag Queen’s home.

“This is stupid!” Azza shouted punching one hand into the railing, denting the wood. “We did not endure all this bullshit just to sit outside and wait for the Hag Queen to come outside and go shopping!” Jensen nodded as he placed a soothing hand on his daughter’s shoulder. He gave her a quick rub, noting how tense the girl was, and her eyes told him all he needed to hear; Move it or lose it. Jensen wisely removed his hand.

“There’s a bright light at the end of this tunnel, kiddo. Hey, Sei, back me up on this one.” Jensen looked at the mute Mystic who was chasing a butterfly laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Or chase butterflies, whichever floats your boat,” Jensen mumbled loudly as he scratched the back of his head.

He turned back to the door and took in a long breath looking at Kane. He seemed like a hunter, taught and muscular body, wore a black vlince shirt and khaki pants tucked into combat boots of a military grade quality. The axe itself was rather resplendent in it’s shining glory. A sterling silver that found a way to glow even in the bog’s doom and darkness, leather band wrapped around the shaft dyed a regal purple. He could read the dwarven inscription on the blade’s curve, “Hope’s Requiem” and the immortal found that rather odd for the ma to carry around.

Yet all those thoughts had to leave his mind and quickly. He had a job to perform. “To pass the time, I will now sing for all your entertainment!” Jensen bowed to the man, who looked at Jensen and snorted in challenge.

“OH~H~H~H There’s a hole in the bottom of the sea! There’s a hole in the bottom of the sea~a, there’s a hole! There’s a hole! There’s a hole at the bottom of the sea~a!” Jensen sang loud, obnoxiously, and most importantly, into the house so it echoed down the halls. Immediately Aerith’s screams of outrage and bloodlust filled the air followed by Cat who clapped, irging it on the hopes her sister would have an anurism. Azza clamped her hands over her ears, annoyed at her father’s choice in tactics, and Kane let a grin curl on the side of his mouth.

And Sei chased butterflies, singing along with grunts and laughter.

~*~*~*~

Jensen was on his seventy seventh verse when he heard a cry of defeat echo in the entire forest, the dark chuckling replaced with a hiss and an even creepier laugh as Kane’s eyes widened and he retreated to the wall where he did his best to melt away and become one. Aerith and Cat both stopped bickering as the sound of their feet retreating rang through the house, replaced by a more prominent sound of heeled boots coming towards the door in a steady, deadly gait. Azza looked up and shivered as Jensen took his jacket off and tossed it to the girl, standing tall and ready as he continued to sing, prepared to face the Hag Queen head on.

As a herald to the Hag Queen an echo, a small little soldier sized one, peaked its head around the corner and looked to Jensen who kicked it right in the face. The beast bounced in the hall where Kane grabbed at it and held it like one would a small child, the Echo shouting gibberish at the immortal. The boots came closer and Jensen let his grin widen as the wave of dread became somewhat tangible, forcing him down to his knees even as he protested the action.

Before he heard her voice Jensen knew exactly who the Hag Queen was, and smiled to find his old rival taking shape in front of him, black hair tied down, hazel orbs of malice looking to him with a hungry, predatory grin as she was draped in a fine coat that was a blood red. A shadowy presence seemed to follow behind her, dark pitted eyes looking to Jensen and laughing cruelly as the immortal took a gulp, still smiling wildly.

“What do you want from me, Mr. Ambrose,” Cassandra Remi said with a vile, disgusting grin.

[Requiem of Insanity]

Cassandra looked down upon Jensen, eyes cast with hatred at the damned immortal. His presence here bothered her, greatly, for it meant that time was running short. She had been gazing into the void again and came to a conclusion she was wholly not ready for. What Xsenjen was planning was going to put the other two wars out the people’s mind, forever.

“Uh,” Jensen looked back to Sei, and then back to Cassandra. Clearing his throat he found the power to stand again now that her love didn’t hold him down. “I was told you knew how to get me home,” Jensen said as he looked into her hazel orbs. The immortal didn’t flinch from her stare and she pondered how her counterpart in his world faired against him.

“I suppose that is something I know how to do.” Cassandra tapped a finger to her chin. “Yet what do I care about you or your desires to go home? You assume an awful lot with me, Ambrose, be warned. I’m the Hag Queen not for my generosity.” She flashed a toothy smile and her daughter’s grinned from beside the doorway. Kane flinched as her gaze turned to him, his eyes cast to his feet as he started to shiver. The family pet, the Echo, squirmed to be free from his grip.

“Look, you’re a bitch in my world, and in this world you aren’t exactly improving my image of you as a whole. I just want to-”

“Go home to your darling girlfriend, Stephanie, and your little daughter, Azza?” Cassandra ventured a guess. Jensen’s jaw slacked to the side as he fought to regain control of his senses. Even the little horned child seemed to take interest now. “Yes, Mr. Ambrose, I am fully aware of who you are and your world. I’ve been studying it, but I fear you do not comprehend what your purpose in this world is.”

Cassandra turned from them, walking back into her house and let her hand linger behind as she welcomed them all in. “Sei, how are the Ixian Knights doing?” Cassandra asked with a grin. The mute looked to her and shook his head. She saw the inner turmoil of his sanity trying to break through, but once again he licked his elbows and let the ignorance of insanity take control of his emotions. “You’re pathetic now, Orlouge.” Cassandra spat.

“How would you like losing all the things you love at once!” Azza shouted in defiance, which got her to turn her head as well as Jensen’s. She looked to them both, realized what she said and her face turned red, but she didn’t back down from her comment. With a laugh she pointed to the immortal to explain, for who better to explain the monster than the immortal?

“She doesn’t know what love is, Azza, because she’s got no heart to speak of.” Jensen spat on the rug and walked, tipping over a vase and shattering it. Her daughter’s looked to their mother with wide eyes, pondering how she would react. All Cassandra did was turn to her velvet black chair and sit, crossing her legs slowly.

“Correct, Mr. Ambrose, and until the world understands it’s people like me who get what they want, the world will continue in the sorry shape it’s been in.” She motioned for all to sit, and only Sei managed a feeble thank you before taking a seat upon a foot rest. Azza and Jensen stood, both glaring at her with hate. She liked that look. It boiled the blood and made rational people lose their cool. In those eyes she knew she had them in the palm of her hand so long as she poked and prodded in the right places.

“Just tell me how to go home,” Jensen said at last to break the stalemate. “That’s all I want.”

“How selfish of you!” Cassandra said in disgust. “You would leave this world a shambles only to return to yours? Is it because you do not follow this world that you will so callously leave it to rot?” She pointed to Azza. “Is it because this little girl isn’t wearing pony tails and not calling you daddy that you will give her to her death at the hands of Xsenjen?” Jensen attempted to talk again, but Cassandra rose a hand.

“I’ll tell you what, Jensen Ambrose! You look your daughter in the eye and tell her you will leave her to rot in this hell on earth and I’ll tell you how to go home.” Jensen gave Cassandra a dark, baleful stare and she let her lips curl in satisfaction. He looked back at Azza, and the girl began to wonder if her father would actually do it. Slowly Jensen lowered his head back to Cassandra’s.

“You obviously want something from me, so tell me what you want,” Jensen said with defeated hostility. Cassandra smiled wider now as she looked out the window to the Shroud of Shadows. The time was coming and soon.

“Have you ever heard of the Ignis Fatalis effect, Mr. Ambrose?” Cassandra said looking to Sei, who’s head slowly looked up in interest.

[KOA]

Vladimir’s steps echoed as he watched his father’s back. The sow drift crunched beneath the fallen snow as they headed for the main castle from the Tower of Geddon. Broxsam was in the front of the train of people, the Echoes surrounding Xavier and making sure he didn’t make a move. The whole situation was confusing as hell, and honestly Vladimir was lost for what to do.

Should he serve Xsenjen as his lord, and forsake his father? Should he turn his back on the man who saved him from the power of the gods? That in itself was another matter to think of. Xsenjen how the power of the void to call upon. Would he fight against that? That thought quickly left his mind. Whatever course he would take, he would not regret it when the time came.

Yet that time was getting closer when he looked to his father again. He aided the enemy! He helped Steppanwolf Orlouge, the great Conspirator. They talked as if they were friends! How could Vladimir let them get away with such heresy? A million questions ran into his head again, and h decided to dwell on something else. Two words: Ignis Fatalis. What did Steppanwolf mean? He screamed the words at him, and made sure that his message was sent loud and clear before he fell to his death. Now what was he supposed to do with such words? They had no meaning to Vladimir.

He heard the loud doors to Xsenjen’s lair open and Vladimir wasn’t even aware he had walked so far in solitude of his own thoughts. He saw Xsenjen’s fingers flexing into each other as Anita and Kyla glared at Xavier from either side of their lord. The Void Lord seemed rather agitated as his dead eyes glanced to Xavier, a small look of disappointment on his lips as he curled his fingers into the throne room chair.

“Betrayer!” Kyla shouted at once.

“Heretic!” Anita spat violently.

“Such mighty accusations coming from you two!” Xavier mused loudly as he opened his arms to his lord and bowed lightly. “How may I serve you, my lord?”

“His thoughts don’t even try to hide his heinous act!” Kyla spoke to Xsenjen’s left ear. Anita lifted up a long thin blade into her hand, twirling the tip in two fingers angrily as she barred her teeth at Xavier. “He is admitting he has aided the enemy.”

“I’ll cut him down in four strokes!” Anita whispered with a dark smile. Broxsam strolled to the back of the throne, turned to Xsenjen and bowed lightly, then proceeded to leave. Xsenjen’s eyes the entire time remained on Xavier Sigma, his chest rising and falling slowly as if he was forcing himself to remain calm in these most delicate proceedings.

“Control your…puppies, my lord, or I will shoot them down,” Xavier ordered to his lord as he lifted up his six shooter pistol. Anita made a move forwards, but Xsenjen lifted one hand up to restrain her. He angrily turned his head and his gaze matched with the girls. She fell to her knees instantly, her eyes shedding tears as she apologized to him.

“Be gone from my sight,” He turned to Kyla as well. “Both of you!” He snapped. With a uniformed bow they both quickly walked past Xavier, giving him dark looks as he matched them with a vile smile of his own. Vladimir looked to them as they walked, both of their glares making him very uneasy. When the throne room door shut, Xsenjen stood to his full height, his leather armor shining the obsidian studs that had been polished lovingly by Kyla. His jacket draped his shoulders as he took two steps forwards, the material falling to the floor and quickly he turned picking it up, dusting the inside out and mumbling to it before he gently placed the coat on the throne.

“My most loyal, and closest friend,” Xsenjen spoke with harsh bitterness edged out by hurt and betrayal. “I would never have dared imagine that you, who stood by my side faithfully for all these years would turn his back on me!”

“It wasn’t my allegiance to you I turned my back on, my lord,” Xavier said firmly. Xsenjen waved his hand dismissively at his general. Slowly he turned to Xavier and gave him a friendly smile, his eyes still showing the respect to the man he called friend.

“We have gone through far to much, Xavier, to be calling me Lord and calling you general. Let us talk like equals, or else we will get nowhere.” Xavier sighed deeply before nodding, looking right into Xsenjen’s eyes.

“My lord, I am disloyal to Broxsam, who I feel is making judgments and decisions on your behalf that do not benefit you. I captured Steppanwolf Orlouge during the second war to use him to dunk deep into the depths of the void. As we know, this grants void sight into the future. It appears, Broxsam wants to do something rather harmful to your plans. He wants to utilize Mortarion’s gate to create an Ignis Fatalis effect.”

The tension in the room had risen at the words, their meaning not lost to Xsenjen. Vladimir felt like a fly on the wall, listening to them speak and his heart raced about something he didn’t even know anything about. He watched both men he respected beyond death look to one another, and with a boyish smile Xsenjen turned away from Xavier.

“Do you think I am so weak as to let Broxsam do things without my knowledge?” Xsenjen mused with a chuckle. “Dear Xavier, all you had to do was ask. I would have gladly told you I approved of such actions.” Xsenjen smiled to Xavier warmly. “He was the first to alert me that what I was planning would create such an effect. I am well aware of what’s going on.” Xavier’s jaw had dropped at this, and after a moment of stunned silence Vladimir watched his father turn to an emotion he had never seen before.

“You did what?!?” Xavier was bellowing in rage as his fist swiped the air before him outrage. His neck veins pulsed hot as Xavier took two hate filled steps forward. “You want to do this to the world?” Xavier laughed in astonishment. “You are going to willingly enact a plan that can destroy the world?”

“No Xavier,” Xsenjen chuckled. “I willingly will enact a plan that will destroy the world. That’s what this whole thing has been about! Broxsam was needed to bring the key, the key that will allow me to rise! You have been helping me in this all these years. Do you think that odd?” Xavier lifted his gun to Xsenjen quickly and aimed it right at his lord’s head. Vladimir’s heart beat rapidly as he tried to shrink.

“This is madness! I fought for your ideals of a better world. No gods, no religions, but truth! Hard, factual truths that were not corrupt! The void and everything we built was to aid in that, but now you tell me that its meant to debase the thing we sought to create?” Xavier’s hand quivered as he held the gun, looking to Xsenjen for some sick joke.

“Idealism is just another path to damnation, Xavier,” Xsenjen said darkly. “Do not tell me now, now that I am so far in, you are going to turn against me. I was willing to forgive you for aiding the enemy. You simply learned something I was already doing anyway. I thought -dare I say- to dream, that if I had told you what I was doing you would beg for my forgiveness. And with your atonement we could move forwards, but now I see you holding a gun to my face. I had believed you would stick with me to the end, as my friend.” The digust that oozed out of the Void Lord’s mouth was tangiable in the air as Xavier’s hand lowered a fraction.

“If what you are planning is true, and you do not deny it, than it looks like the lines are drawn and I’m standing on the side against you,” Xavier lifted his weapon again. “I will stop this insanity here and now.” He cocked the weapon.

“Lower the weapon, grovel for my mercy, and maybe I will let you live, Xavier.” Xsenjen ordered to him, but Xavier just shook his head. “What do you intend to do, Xavier? Your hands are just as bloody as mine! You killed several hundred people, led armies to crush your own friends and family! Why now that you know the truth? Why now do you fight me? Nobody will forgive you for your crimes, Xavier!” The general looked to Xsenjen and smiled shaking his head.

“No,” He chuckled. “They won’t forgive me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t change. Even if nobody forgives you, you still have to do the right thing.” Xsenjen sighed darkly, lifted one hand up, and Xavier fired three shots. That was all the man managed in the span of five seconds.

During those precious few seconds a wall of darkness appeared around Xsenjen, the bullets hitting off it and splintering the void. When it shattered the air echoed like glass breaking, the shards all liquefying into three long arms that wrapped around Xavier’s torso, his legs, and outstretched hand. The void ripped at him, pulling him down as he fell to his knees and the sound of bones breaking echoed in the chamber.

“Vladimir, come before me,” Xsenjen ordered. The son of Xavier had no idea what to think anymore, and numbly his limbs obeyed. When he stood next to his father the Void Lord grinned before looking at Vladimir.

“Your father has dammed you all, and the only way to regain the trust you have with me is to kill your own father. Prove you still have faith in me, Vladimir,” Xsenjen’s tone became darker as he narrowed his eyes. “Or prove to me I should never had trusted you to begin with.” Vladimir looked to his father, seeing the agony in his eyes as Xsenjen dropped a knife in his hands. The warlord looked to his father and was confused as to what to do. Slowly he looked down to the knife, and then stepped forwards.

“Ignis Fatalis, boy,” Xavier grimaced as he wheezed the words out. “You have to tell the world…” As Vladimir debated what he would do, another gunshot echoed from the corner of the room. Xavier’s head exploded open, gray matter splashing to the tiled floor as Vladimir and Xsenjen both jumped back in alarm. Several Legionnaires appeared next to Xsenjen as Broxsam returned to the room quickly. Kyla and Anita opened the doors, a fleet of soldiers at their feet as they looked to the dead body.

Out of the darkness a woman walked forward, long black hair flowing free and unrestricted. Her eyes were golden and her lips thick and full of red life. She smiled to Xsenjen, bowing low to him and the Void Lord slowly nodded his head breathing softly.

“My lord, the Sigma’s have always been loyal to you,” Victoria said. “It would be difficult and damaging to the boy to have him kill his own father, so please accept my hand in killing my erstwhile husband as penance for our family name.” Xsenjen looked to Vladimir, and the warlord turned to his other, who smiled sweetly to her son. He then looked back to Xsenjen, confused as all hell and torn in emotional pieces. He bowed to Xsenjen, then turned to his mother and walked to her. It was the first time in a long time he had seen her without her veil.

“Very well, all of you, be gone, I have work to do,” Xsenjen said turning away from Xavier’s corpse. Anita and Kyla quickly ran to the body, laughing as they dragged him away and raping the spirit of his father. His mother grabbed his hand and held it tightly, leading him out of the room.

“We will mourn later, my son,” She whispered. “For now, we have very limited time to make the world aware. Come.” She released his hand and they both walked quickly.

“Mother, what in the hell is going on?” Vladimir cracked. “Father is dead, the world is ending, and Xsenjen and Broxsam…and you shot him!” Victoria smiled.

“I will explain everything to you in due time.” Victoria promised.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen leaned against the back wall of Cassandra’s manor, listening to her words as she explained everything in more detail than even Sei seemed to know. Xsenjen, apparently, had been planning something huge from the beginning, and the wars were merely a way to placate the surrounding nations so that when he pulled his power play they wouldn’t be able to rally in time.

Clever that.

Still, the woman was obviously leaving holes in her story, but to point them out would only have had Cassandra turn her ire to him. His way home rested with that woman, as much as he hated to admit it. Jensen Ambrose wouldn’t piss away the only shot he had to seeing his family again, but it still didn’t sit well with him.

“The idea behind the Ignis Fatalis, if you know your history,” Cassandra explained. “Is that it was an artifact that housed the world’s sins and turned it into power. Every sin, no matter how big or small, would power up the device and whoever held the artifact became mighty indeed. There was a small little problem however with the artifact. Whoever held it was eventually destroyed by the power, for the world has many sins in it, and no one, not even a god can handle it. The effect, named after such a powerful artifact, is when you combine limitless power with the immortality of time. A collision of the world’s unstoppable force meeting the immovable object.”

“So then,” Azza said figuring it out and putting it all together. “Xsenjen is planning to take the infinite power of the void and what? Put it inside Mortarian’s gate.”

“The immortality of time,” Jensen whispered figuring it out himself. “Death, Mortarian’s gate is the realm of the dead. There is nothing more immortal than the end of time. Death itself.” Jensen kicked off the wall and walked next to his daughter.” Xsenjen is going to shove all the power of the void into the gates of death, and then blow up the world when the powers collide. The question is, why?”

Cassandra shrugged as she sipped some tea. Sei on the other hand merely scratched his chin.

“To take the soup,” He thought to them. Jensen gave the senile fool a harsh glance, Azza muttering something about idiots, as Cassandra smiled. “Or maybe…” Sei said scratching his head furiously. He started to mumble to himself in deep grunts, as if forcing his brain to think after years of not doing so. Some…thing! Is in death! Xsenjen wants something that is…VOICES!” And Sei collapsed grabbing his head and muttering loudly in painful wails as he clawed at his own brain.

“Perhaps that is the case, but whatever his motive is doesn’t really matter. We must make haste to the nearest Federation outpost and begin a delegation meeting with them to unite the world against Xsenjen one last time.” Azza snickered at that as she angrily turned to her father.

“Sure, we can march in with a crazy psychotic man who yells at voices, a hag queen that’s hated through this land, an immortal from another dimension, and a horned freak. Classic adventurer story written all over it.” Azza smiled to Cassandra, a cold an uninviting one. “And why, pray tell, should they even bother?”

Cassandra matched her vile smile and corrupted it with her wave of dread. Azza retreated a step into Jensen who lifted a hand to her shoulder standing before her. Cassandra rose as Kane, her servant, stepped forward with traveling supplies. Cassandra’s daughters were ready for walking as well. “We can do this, little Azza, because I will make them see that it’s within their best interest. I’ve contacted someone from my past to ensure the right people are sent to reveal Xsenjen’s plan at the right time. Now, we must make haste to Emprea. It is there we will let ourselves be captured by the Emprean army. It will speed things up.”

“Piss off Emprea? That’s your best plan?” Jensen said harshly. “I’d have a better idea if I knew what the fuck was going on.” Cassandra turned to him, smiling.

“But you don’t, Mr. Ambrose, so I am in charge.” She giggled as she placed her sword across her back. “We travel via the void.” To this Jensen and Azza stopped walking.

“Is that even safe?” Azza asked. Jensen nodded his head.

“Well if you’d like to flap your wings and fly there, Ms. Ambrose,” Cassandra said with malice and disgust. “No?” She let the threat linger as Jensen looked to his daughter and shrugged.

“I better bring my swim trunks…” Sei said thoughtfully.

[orphans]

In the short time that Azza had known Cassandra, she could adamantly decide that Cassandra was bitch. Of course Azza had know of the reputation of the “hag queen” of the swamps, but she hoping that those they sought to ally with were a bit kinder. Then again, as Azza cast her eyes over Sei Orlouge, she scoffed at her own thoughts.

Still, the Orlouges were much better compared to Mrs. Remi and what she called her family…

“Azza, you coming?”

The sudden call from Jensen shook Azza out of her dazed thoughts. Looking to her sides, Azza saw only dead trees and putrid water where only a moment ago Jensen and Sei stood.

“Over here kiddo,” Jensen said quickly and offered an outstretched hand.

Facing forward, the young woman found Jensen half engulfed in a void entrance. The entire plan seemed ludicrous and originating from the hag queen, Azza had little reason to trust it. Even so, everyone else was onboard and any reluctance from her would only slow the group.

“Y-yeah… I’m coming.” With a grimace, Azza shook away the last of her hesitance, Azza took her father’s hand and he pulled her in through the mouth of the void.

Immediately, Azza was assaulted by a cascade of voices prying into her head. Her horns as well, reacted and felt as though something or someone was hitting them over and over. Suffice to say, she had a headache, but when she looked to everyone else, they seemed to be fine. Well, as fine as anyone traveling through the void can be.

Blurs moved about her eyes, and it was painfully obvious to her that she couldn’t see well. Her companion’s words were also little more than murmurs compared to what was trying to claw into her head. However, Azza could guess well enough that everyone was staring at her when their blurred faces turned towards her.

Unsure if they had asked her anything, she simply gripped Jensen’s hand a bit harder than she meant to, and gave the rest a stupid smile. To that, she was sure that Cassandra probably made some sort of comment, but at the moment, Azza was more concerned with her own reactions to the void.

Never in her life did she think she would find relief to have someone leading her while holding her hand. With her vision blurred, Azza couldn’t tell what sort of pace the group had set. If she had to judge from how fast her feet were moving, she would have guessed at a moderate pace. Not that it really mattered to her. Time appeared to stand still in the void.

Unable to interact with anyone else in a meaningful way, Azza half wondered if this was what it felt like to be Sei Orlouge: Bumbling like a fool and constantly assailed by murmuring voices. The sensations gave Azza a smidge more respect for the man as he had to endure such things for years. Azza on the other hand, had barely experienced and she was already annoyed.

Strangely enough, when Azza tried, she could focus her thoughts much easily as they walked. Without meaning to, her mind drifted to what Cassandra had said about Jensen. What she said only solidified him being her father. Yet, there was a gut feeling that he wasn’t her real father. Perhaps that was it, just a gut feeling…

Suddenly, the hand that held Azza’s left her grasp. In panic, she snapped from her thoughts and looked about wildly. Frustration and fear sank deeper with each passing moment as her eyes darted back and forth uselessly.

In a final effort, Azza threw herself in the direction where Jensen had let go of her hand. As her body left the void with a shriek, her vision swirled back as well as her hearing. She wished it didn’t. Immediately, Azza saw that the group was surrounded by armed soldiers, bearing some crest that she didn’t recognize.

“I said halt!” one of them yelled as he jabbed a spear towards Azza.

By reflex, she grabbed the head and smirked in a brief triumph. In the very next moment, she found herself bent double, vomiting whatever was left in her stomach as her vision finally settled itself.

“Very classy, Ms. Ambrose.”

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen watched as several red and blue dressed soldiers ran around them, holding up weapons in a ready position. Azza, who was on the ground rolled back to her feet and came up next to Jensen. The immortal looked to the soldiers and prepared to fight them when Cassandra stepped forwards. She easily lifted one hand and that damnable wave of dread exuded placated most of the soliders as they took a few steps back. Jensen lowered his weapons and turned as he felt a few pairs of eyes lock onto his body.

“By order of the Emprean Nation and charter of the Federation of Nation States, you are all hearby under arrest for…uh…Dave, help me out on this one.” A tall, muscular brute of a warrior wearing full plate armor tilted his head to the side. Black short hair spiked to match his goatee as he hefted an axe easily Jensen’s length and then some. The man he looked to was what the immortal would call a pretty boy, suave demeanor, cocky smile, and hair that looked like he tended to it almost every minute.

A lithe little woman stood to the side, bow in hand but not notched as she grinned to her larger counterpart. David, as the suave man was called, turned to him as well giving him an expression of amusement before stepping forward. “The void and those who use it are not permitted within Federation territory. You all were seen escaping a Void spawning point. That places you with our jurisdiction to detain you.” Jensen raised an eyebrow to him and the meat head turned back to the others.

“What he said.” He grunted.

“None to bright, are you?” Cassandra said. “I wish to speak with your commanding officers, now.”

“I may not have every rule and regulation memorized, bitch, but I know which end of my fist belongs in your face.” The man barked back angrily stepping forward. “And whatever creepy mojo you got is only serving to piss me off, so clam it shut, turn around and assume the position!” he ordered. Cassandra lifted a challenging eye to him, all of which he just grinned, vilely, and ignored as he stepped forwards.

“Paul, she’s baiting you,” The woman said teasingly. She whisked the locks of brown hair out of her face smiling to him. The soldier stopped and turned back to her. Jensen recalled that name and wondered about it before snapping his fingers.

“Holy shit! Paul Donovan, David King, and Rachel Leona! You’re three of the Six Heroes of Emprea! No way!” Jensen looked to them all with awe as Azza gave him a dumbfounded look. Cassandra rolled her eyes stepping forwards.

“Astute observation, Mr. Ambrose, now can it so I can get to negotiations.” Cassandra stepped forwards, addressing David King as he kept a respectful distance from her. She began discussing all that she had told Jensen, and he replied with questions to test her knowledge. Jensen looked to the brute warrior who looked back to him. Azza stepped next to Jensen, tapping her foot as Sei began to sing a song about ducks. Rachel tried not to laugh at Sei.

Jensen waited patiently as he turned to the Cloud of Shadows he walked out of, but his eyes began to see something stirring. He grabbed Azza and pointed to the Void point, and she saw it too, lifting her hand and nodding. “Uh, guys,” Jensen said waving them over. Cassandra and David ignored the immortal as they continued to talk, and Rachel looked to Paul and shrugged. The Emprean Hero nodded to her and moved towards Jensen’s position.

As he was approaching tiny antenna poked out and Jensen flinched, darting away from the Cloud of Darkness as taloned hands began to claw at the ground. “GUYS!” Jensen shouted.

“HEY!” Azza said grabbing her sword. Still the two didn’t stop, as they began to shout at the other insulting names, Cassandra clearly losing her patience with the Captain of the Guard. Kane, her servant, made a loud coughing noise grabbing his axe.

“My queen,” He insisted. For his efforts he got punched square in the face before Cassandra turned back to David, who laughed to her in a mocking way.

“MOTHER!” Aerith said in alarm as she felt the ground shake. More Echoes began to pounce out of the Void, looking left and right for something, as the Emprean Soldiers gripped their spears tighter and ranked up.

“DAVID YOUR ATTENTION IS NEEDED!” Paul shouted. David turned to the Cloud of Darkness, and cursed loudly as he pulled out his own sword. Paul unstrapped his axe and swung it over his head in a few test circles before letting it fall to his hands in a ready position. Jensen looked to Azza and nodded as she covered him from behind, the lithe warrior adopting his unique fighting style.

Cassandra looked to the Void and then cursed loudly.

“I told you they would come for him!”

“Look, when somebody tells me they got some guy from another dimension who is some key to a great conspiracy to overthrow and destroy the world, I tend not to buy into that!” David said defensively. More and more Echoes spawned forwards, creating more than three times the number of soliders around them as Astartes began to lurch outwards. Jensen backed away next to Paul as the two warriors began to mutter angrily about the situation.

“FOR THE SPAGHETTIOS!” Sei shouted fighting with the soldiers. Several came for him, but his magical swords kept them all at bay.

“Well this is all your fault,” Cassandra said to David King, waving her hands in graceful arcs along the sky, black threads of ink trailing between them. Instantly several of the lesser Echoes began to claw at their brethren, and the fight erupted. Jensen laughed insanely as he dived in, Azza right behind him as Paul let out a bellowing cry of rage, slamming his axe into two Astartes and taking them out easily. Jensen kicked two soldier’s into another Astartes and as it fought to stand Azza impaled her sword in its chest, kicking it off her blade. Several beams of light fell into the Echoes as Rachel Leona pulled on the string of her bow, magical arrows forming and loosening into the air as they went free. David ran in front of Cassandra, as Kane stood next to her like a dutiful body guard.

Several Emprean Soldiers were wiped out in seconds as the Astartes began to claw at them, the soldiers weighing them down as they tripped and fell. Jensen nearly succumbed himself if not for Azza who aided him, the two killing as a team as they watched the others back.

“Two on the left, Donovan!” King shouted. Paul turned putting all his weight behind the axe, spinning and taking out two more Astartes before he was tackled by several soldiers. He snarled as he clawed at them, releasing his axe and punching them and kicking violently. Several beams of light lanced forwards, killing enough for the Wolf Lord to stand as he shouted his thanks to Rachel Leona.

“Why so many?” Cassandra shouted as her daughters swiped their knives before her as a protective barrier. Kane’s axe took several lives as he viciously attacked the Echoes, a man possessed and tortured as he fought.

Jensen was wondering why more and more kept pouring out, as usually they only trickled out like a leaky faucet. He at last got his answer when two feet touched the ground and walked forwards, a coat as black as the night stepping forwards. White alabaster skin accompanied it, followed by golden, eyes with black pupils looking right to him.

“My Lord Xsenjen has need of you, Jensen Ambrose,” The voice sounded like it was coming from a million shadows. Jensen felt his will being stripped as his speed lowered and his feet began to trip over each other. “You cannot fight the void, Jensen Ambrose. You can only embrace it. Come with me, I haven’t got the time to play with the Hag Queen.”

“That’s Broxsam! Xsenjen’s puppet! We need to protect Jensen!” Cassandra bellowed, arcing her hands violently forwards and clawing towards Broxsam. A large ethereal hand of darkness erupted from the void, followed by a dark chuckle but Broxsam easily lifted one hand. A horde of Soldier Echoes jumped forwards into the hand, blocking its path from reaching him. Cassandra wrenched her fist back and swiped upwards. A black pool formed around Jensen, thousands of thorny vines rising from the pits of hell as they wrapped around the immortal in a protective cocoon. Broxsam snarled irritably as he walked forwards, punching his hand into the vines and shattering the power of the Void.

“Dad!” Azza screamed. Broxsam looked to her and with a bored shake of his wrist two Astartes jumped before her. They clawed at her and scrathed her leg good, drawing blood as he rsword went wide off the mark. As she screamed in pain a roar of anger lifted into the air as an axe took both out.

“If that asshole wants him, then we will deny him it! Hunt my wolves!” Paul shouted to the sky as several howls joined his. Over the hill Emprean soldiers ran forwards, fighting with the echoes as berserker units slammed into them head first, howling like frenzied beasts. Paul joined them as they all ran towards Jensen’s location the immortal’s eyes glazing over as he felt incredibly tired.

“You have all become bothersome,” Broxsam muttered. With a howl that drowned out even the cries of the wolves, another Echo joined the battle.

“TITAN!” An Emprean soldier screamed in alarm. Cassandra looked to the beast with terror as she snatched the arms of both her daughters, rushing away as Kane covered her. Rachel turned her attention to the beast as she aimed her bow, but David grabbed her hand quickly running retreating. Paul howled his frustrations as he turned, grabbing Azza by the waist and lifting her over his shoulder.

“But my father!”

“You wanna die too?” Paul snapped back. “Shut up and hold on! We can’t take out a Titan like this!”

Broxsam smiled as he lifted his hand over Jensen’s face, engulfing it in total darkness taking the immortal with him into the Void. Before he vanished though Azza looked to see Sei jump in after Jensen, clawing to reach him. The Echoes ran wild as the Titan slammed its massive fist into the earth in warning, guarding the spot where the Echoes congregated. It gave out a guttural, primitive cry of challenge as they all ran. Paul caught up with David as Azza continued to bounce up and down on the warrior’s shoulder, looking to see the Cloud of Darkness continue to spew out more and more soldiers.

“I told you they were after him!” Cassandra shouted to David. “We must make haste if we are to thwart Xsenjen!” David ran to keep pace with her, giving her an unbelieving look.

“While these events are pretty good, the council will need more concrete proof of the events going on! Show us that proof and we’ll call a meeting!”

“Do not worry,” Cassandra said as a matter of fact. “Take us to Emprea, and you will have your proof!”

[orphans]

To be carried by the mountain of a man, Paul, Azza felt a stirring of annoyance and insult twisting about in her stomach. Sure, she wasn’t a match for a Titan alone and sure, hundreds of void soldiers continued to pour out to block anyone from chasing, but was running away really a good idea?

Azza even half contemplated about disabling her carrier, but a quick glance around told her that she would just be waiting time. That, and they needed allies and Xsenjen should have been a good enough reason for any person of any nation to band together, even if the mutual alliance would be shaky at best.

Eventually, the group came to a halt for a brief rest. Empean soldiers and most of the group huffed for their breath while David looked around their surroundings to take stock of the situation. Had she not been winded, Cassandra would have had smugness dripping into every word, but the best she could manage was to wheeze, “Even without proof, you know I’m right.”

“That’s not for me to decide,” was the gruff answer from David as he proceeded again with Rachel following. With the moment’s danger passed, the group continued at a brisk pace instead of their all out run.

At this point, Azza tapped the back of Paul’s head to get his attention. “Mind letting me down now? I do have legs.” When he didn’t respond, she elbowed the back of his skull. “HEY, put me down!” Paul swore and tossed Azza off his shoulders as if she were a sack of potatoes.

“Fuck that actually hurt.” Some of the soldiers stifled a snicker or two as the man ran a hand over it, the cold metal of his gauntlet helping to ease it slightly.

Pulling herself off the ground, Azza took a moment to dust herself off before jogging to catch up once more, mumbling to herself.

After an hour or so, the group came to the gates of Emprea and as soon as the guards up top saw who it was, they opened without question. The names David King, Paul Donovan, and Rachel Leona were well read and their faces were known by every man, woman, and child.

As they entered, Azza couldn’t have been more obvious in her surprise as she turned her head about, trying to take in all of the sights. Cassandra and her family seemed hardly impressed and continued on with the group of Emprean soldiers. When Azza began to fall behind though, it was Paul that slowed his pace. “If you want a tour of the city, I can give you one after all this.”

“Huh? What, oh sure…” Hardly paying attention though, Azza continued to look about, not even certain about what she said sure to. Either way, she figured it wasn’t that important.

“You two might want to keep up!” Rachel’s voice jolted Azza to pay attention, but the mention of two confused her. That was until she looked over and saw Paul’s embarrassed smile before he picked up his pace to join the group at the gate of the castle.

Azza follow suit after one last glance around.


Once inside the castle grounds, most of the soldiers were dismissed. Most immediately headed in the direction of what Azza assumed was a barracks. A few others mumbled something about chow time and a few more about replacing equipment.

At the mention of equipment, Azza let out a sudden surprised scream.

“Is there a problem, Ms. Ambrose?” Cassandra gave tired look of displeasure to the girl.

“My sword!”

Cassandra brought a hand to her temples and massaged them as everyone else looked on. “What about it?”

Feeling foolish, Azza mumbled, “… it’s gone.”

Without a reply, Cassandra began walking again. Her children and servant followed suit, as well as Rachel, David, and the few soldiers that followed them still. “We can replace that later,” was Paul’s reply as he too followed the others.

Without anywhere else to go, she followed as well. “… I liked that one…”


Sooner or later, the group entered large room with a table and a dozen or so chairs. The soldiers with them took their positions around the room while Rachel and Paul went to secure a chair for themselves. Cassandra and her family did as well, leaving Azza an awkward decision of where to sit.

Rather, the decision was how to sit. She didn’t care who she offended really but the chairs had tall backs. A stool would have been the woman’s preference, as it wouldn’t crush her wings if she had decided to lean back. “Erm… I’ll just stand.”

David just shook his head, mistaking her reluctance for a timid nature. “In any case, wait a moment. I’ll go get the Chief Advisor.”


As the moments that passed, the room stayed silent, save for the occasional cough or clearing of throats. Paul looked bored in his chair, Rachel seemed to be taking the time to meditate or rest her eyes, Cassandra’s children fell asleep and Cassandra was studying the room. Kane, her servant, just sat.

In viewing all of this, Azza couldn’t help but think that they were all doomed. The enemy seemed so much more organized while everyone they had on their side seemed… dysfunctional, herself included. At the thought, Azza heaved a sigh just as the door opened.

A powerful but gracefully slim woman entered. With her back straight and confidence written into her face, she searched about the room. Behind her, David entered as well. “Chief Advisor Viola, these are the ones I told you about.”

She gave a nod of appreciation and then spoke plainly and quickly, “I understand one of you has proof to show that Jensen Ambrose is somehow the key to our future, or demise?”

At this, Cassandra rose slowly with an insanely pleased smile upon her face. Enough so that everyone present could nearly feel a crawling in their spine. “Right here.”

When the final syllable finished, a void portal began to weave itself over head, causing the solders to take up arms as a few chair were knocked over. But before anyone could ready themselves in any useful position, a man was cast out of the void and unceremoniously fell face first onto the table.

“My proof.” With a cackle, Cassandra continued her explanation at a leisurely pace, enjoying the satisfaction in knowing she had the situation in the palm of her hands. "While all the small, tattered kingdoms squabbled and bickered, fighting desperately to keep the void at bay to preserve what little was left, I sought the source."

With another smile, she let her gaze fall on every person in the room. "You all wanted proof of Xsenjen's deeds. I present to you, Vladimir Sigma..."

[Disillusioned]

"This is ridiculous. Completely ridiculous," Troy muttered as his wife, a skinny blonde woman (as flat as wood) named Noel, adjusted his robes.

"What? The world ending?" She asked as she played with his shirt.

"No. Well, yes that. But I meant this!" Troy said as he motioned at the two of them. "This is the third outfit you have had me try on!"

"This is an important meeting!" Noel squeaked in an extremely whiny voice. "There will be a representative from every nation! The world's ending!"

"For the third blasted time. It's getting old," Troy muttered as he adjusted the collar of his shirt, which Noel had rendered completely wrinkled and crooked. "Come, we musn't be late. The meeting room is ready, yes?"

"Yup! We'll be using the large one at the top of the building!" Noel beamed as if she had constructed the entire room herself (she didn't). Still, the room was quite impressive. "I even set up the table! Alphabetical, just like you said!"

Troy grimaced.

"I never said that! I said anything but alphabetical, because Carthage and Emprea will be at each other's throat the entire meeting!"

There were six nations (though not all of the same size) that consisted of the six last remaining bastions of humanity (or so the bards sang): Benzer, Black Isle, Carthage, Emprea, Irenes, and Revan. Relations varied between each nation, but none was worse than Carthage and Emprea. Each day Troy, who held the rank of general as well as lead delegate of Benzer, wondered if he would awake to a paper saying the two had gone to all out war.

At least everyone hated Revan equally.

"You put too much pressure on me Troy!" Noel whined as he opened the door for her. Her husband rolled his eyes.

"You asked for the job! I...nevermind. At least we'll be sitting next to Black Isle, our strongest ally. Serra will be heading their delegation, so it will be good to see her again."

Noel gave him the harshest glare she possessed (which really wasn't terrifying at all) as Troy mentioned the name of an old flame, who he was still very good friends with.

"That is to say, she is a terrible person who kicks puppies."

"Damn straight."

The two quickly left their room, and made their way towards the meeting room. Troy carefully went over everything he had managed to gleam from the intelligence reports he had read, as well as the brief explanation Emprea had sent to each of the nations.

Xsenjen would open a gate to another dimension, and overflow their world with something, making their own world go pop like a balloon.

Troy briefly wondered what part of that statement was the most absurd. He then stopped, sighed, and gently tapped a man on the shoulder. The man gave him no heed, for he was very busy talking to a woman with red hair about things that were best left for closed doors.

"Under the meeting room table?" The redhead said with a sly smile.

"Bet we could pull it off," The man said with a grin.

"I'd rather lick it off, if that's all right with you."

"AHEM! Good to see you, Mr. Deltin!" Troy snapped, breaking into the couple's conversation.

"Ah, it's Troy. How you been buddy?" The man said happily, acting as if he had done nothing out of the ordinary. Though, in all honesty, it really wasn't that unusual for this couple.

Sheex and Leila Deltin were two things. First and foremost, madly in love. Troy had never seen a couple more destined to be together. Second, they ruled the nation of Irenes together. Well, Troy knew for a fact that Sheex handled most of the ruling aspect of the single city that had grown from a humble town into the single place that had not been swallowed up by either the Cloud of Darkness, or one of the other nations.

Each nation had something. Black Isle had its airships, Benzer had its abundant wealth (due to a tight stranglehold on most of the safe trade routes), Carthage had the mightest military (as well as the most advanced forging techniques). Emprea, Carthage's eternal rival, had the best mines of steel and other ore. Revan was filled with dark magics to keep them safe from the void that terrorized their land (which most thought they deserved due to their previous alliance with Xsenjen).

Irenes had nothing, save for its knack to procure anything. Sheex Deltin turned his small city into a haven for smugglers of all sorts, and Troy knew for a fact each kingdom made use of Irenes's neutrality. Carthage could fine the best steel for its soldiers, Emprea could learn techniques to refine its valuable ore. Black Isle, isolated from the rest of the nations by a large body of water, had a place to sell their old airship plans, which could technically not leave the nation.

If the rest of the five nations were ninety-five percent of the forces of humanity, surely Irenes was the last five percent that brought them all together.

"Save for the world ending, rather well. You?" Troy asked in a tone that was more friendly than diplomatic. He could afford to loosen up around an old friend.

"Save for the shit, er, crap of not having ANY alone time on the way here, I'm stellar," Sheex said off-handedly. Diplomatic conversations were not his forte.

"I know! Seriously, we could barely manage to sneak in a quicke!" Leila cursed. Diplomatic conversations were not her forte either.

“That’s what you were doing! You said you were checking on the luggage!” An exasperated voice came out. Troy turned to see Sheex’s son, Guy, walking up. He was about twenty years old, and very red in the face.

“Well, we did check the luggage. It was...” Sheex’s voice faded out.

“In dire need of attention,” Leila whispered with rather shady eyes.

“Oh gods, I don’t wanna know!” Guy shouted as he covered his ears. Though he was reputed to be the best swordsman in the land, talk of his parents having sex still rendered him useless.

“In any case, shall we?” Troy motioned to the door. The group entered, and as one rolled their eyes.

“Say that again! Say it again if you dare!” Paul spat at a man dressed in black and gold robes.

“Sorry, I don’t speak dog. Viola, restrain your puppy,” Lucifer Blight, the crown-prince of Carthage said with a cruel grin. “And he’d better be house-broken. We’ve rules for a reason, but I suppose we can allow it to slide since he’s your favorite.”

“Who the hell put Carthage and Emprea together? Even I know that’s stupid,” Leila whispered softly. Noel turned a deep shade of red and hid behind Troy.

“Hi Uncle Sheex!” A young voice blurted out. Troy stepped back in time to dodge Fir (wearing of all things a large pirate hat), who bolted into Sheex’s arms. She than violently began to pry open his hands, certain that he’d have a new toy for her in one of them (he always did).

“Hello Troy. It’s good to see you again,” Came a voice a silky voice. Troy nodded to Serra, while Noel gave a jealous glare.

“Always a pleasure Serra. What is the-” Troy was unable to finish.

“I’m the pirate queen now. No! Pirate princess! That’s cuter!” Fir answered.

“Very well then. That’s enough now from Cartahage and Emprea, I bring this meeting to order,” Troy said with authority as he took his chair. He then sighed, for the chair he took was next to Serra. He stood up, allowed Noel to come between the two of them with her own chair, and then sat back down. Meanwhile, Fir had managed to claim a new toy doll (they were the latest rage in Emprea), and returned to her seat next to Seed (watching Fir was a full time job).

Silence reigned the room for a few more moments. Each country began to size up the other delegates. Lucifer and his advisor Trabant Magone smiled false smiles at Emprea. Viola Conda, Emprea’s lead delegate, returned these smiles poorly but as best she could. Jared Cesarino from Revan eyed everyone suspiciously (which was how everyone eyed him). Fir played with her new toy, Seed smiled approvingly at an eight year old acting like an eight year old, and the Deltin’s cuddled in together in their chairs. Troy took a deep breath.

“So. The world is ending.”

“Oh god damn it! Again?” Lucifer cursed as he slammed his hand onto the table.

“We set you the same information as everyone else. This should come as no surprise,” Viola threw out.

“Sorry. We don’t trust people who can’t protect their own lands,” Lucifer said off-handedly.

“We wouldn’t have that problem if you weren’t constantly invading!” Paul blurted out from his seat. Each nation was allowed to only have two delegates at the table (save Black Isle; Fir was allowed to sit on Seed’s lap), the rest had to stand back or sit in the spectator’s area.

“Charter says Carthage gets the lands other countries can’t protect. Obviously, you can’t protect your’s,” Lucifer said with a shrug. “And I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to Viola.”

“I apologize for his outburst,” The named woman said coolly.

“Not good enough,” Trabant answered. “This meeting must have order. Shall we just put all spectators on a three strikes rule, and save ourselves some time?”

There was a general murmur of agreement.

“And that’s strike one for Paul,” Troy said softly. He hated leading these delegations. “Back to the point at hand...”

“Not to doubt you, but this information...” Serra calmly held out a piece of paper. “Well, it seems like something out of a fairy tale.”

“What part? The part about the upcoming doomsday, or the madman about to rip open the world?” Viola asked with a mostly straight face. Even though her country had been the initial receivers of the information, she still had trouble believing it.

“If the world ripping open is a fairy tale to you, I invite you to Revan,” Jared said sarcastically. It was no secret that Revan was ravaged by constant Clouds Of Darkness and Echoes.

“No one gives a damn Jared,” Lucifer spat back. “Might as well give the whole ‘pity me’ approach up. We care not for traitors.”

“Yeah! At least Carthage has the decency to stab you in the face, not the back!” Paul chimed in.

“Strike two Paul,” Troy muttered as he rolled his eyes. There was a quick murmuring between the Carthage delegation.

“Actually, we’re willing to let that one side. Point of pride for Carthage that,” Trabant said with a gracious bow.

“Have it your way. In any case, Benzer supports Black Isle. We want verification of this information. Anyone else?” Troy asked the table. There was a pretty much universal nodding of heads, save for Sheex, who was too busy playing with his wife’s hair to care. He did give a shrug of approval as Leila nuzzled her head into his chest, however.

“If that’s what you really want,” Viola muttered somewhat begrudgingly. She motioned for an aide, said a few quick words, and then motioned to the room’s entrance. “Here’s our proof...”

One of the firm rules of these delegations was that each nation could have only one weapon at the table. Most delegations had their lead delegate carry their own weapon as a symbol of status (Troy himself fell into the category), but some delegations took a guard. For example, Sheex had his son, who was far better than his father with any weapon, carry his sword into the meeting room.

When the doors opened and three people walked in, every single weapon was unsheathed.

“Behind me Noel!” Troy ordered as he yanked out his saber.

“You gotta be shitting me!” Sheex screamed as he shot up out of his chair, placing his body between the door and his wife. Guy said nothing, but in the shortest span of a breath he was upon the recently entered part with his sword.

“God damn Emprean morons!” Lucifer bellowed as he grabbed his bastard sword.

“Word of advice, when you bring the enemy into your home, don’t do it in front of your allies!” Jared spat as he whipped out two daggers from his belt.

“SEED! SEED! MAKE THEM GO AWAY!” Fir screamed in a voice of sheer terror. She dove for her brother, her face white with a horrible fear.

“I WILL KILL YOU!” The young boy, normally so calm and serene, roared; he grabbed Serra’s sword and flung it at the entrance.

“For the first time in my life, I am not a fan of being dramatic,” David King muttered as every weapon in the room was leveled at him and the two people behind him.

Vladimir Sigma and Cassandra Remi. Two of the most despised and feared human beings on the planet.

[Requiem of Insanity]

Cassandra relished these moments of utter terror. She drank in the gasps, the sudden hostility, and smiled vilely as the young boy threw a weapon at her and Vladimir Sigma. The general of Xsenjen’s legion did nothing to save his own life, and David King had thwarted the sword to the side with ease as he stood before the delegation and his charges. Paul Donovan stood as well, standing at the ready to jump in should things turn sour. It was funny to see so many wild animals with their fur and tails all standing out on end that she cooed with mirth.

“Carthage is out,” The prince of the Blood Stained kingdom shouted. It was something he did almost as often as Paul Donovan, it seemed, and his advisor gave his lord a concerned look before nodding gathering up dossiers and folders.

“But do you not wish to hear my words?” Cassandra flashed the prince a dark smile, her ambitions coming out as a wave of dread filled the room. Weapons were forced to be lowered by her power, the darkness howling in everyone’s ears. The screams from little Fir were most exquisite…

“Knock it off,” A voice said behind her. Cassandra put on a pouty face as she turned to look into the golden orbs of Vladimir Sigma. He gave her a threatening stare, and she could see he was ready to act upon his implied threat. With a sigh she called her ambitions back, her loving Dark Companion howling one last time before everyone rose their weapons once more.

“You are no fun,” She teased. Vladimir merely looked ahead at the delegation meeting with steely eyes, showing no hint of mirth, but stoicism in the face of so many who would kill him with but given the merest of chances. Not that their lives had been attempted to be taken when several Emprean soldiers found out who they were. Such is the life of a villain, she whimsically thought.

“I don’t trust her, what the hell is her word worth in this place!” Jared spoke harshly.

“Say’s the traitor,” Vladimir countered back angrily. “Do not point fingers, Jared Cesarino. It was you who through these people under the tides first,” Now the Void General allowed himself a vile smile, a mere sliver of joy to taunt one so easily. Jared’s daggers rose again, but a woman next to him grabbed his arm and slammed him, abruptly, back into his seat.

“Let them speak, and we can be done with them,” The woman said. There was a moment of silence, nobody saying a word, before Viola turned to her, and nodded lowering her weapon only a fraction. The Halberd glinted in the light of the window, and Cassandra debated if it would take one cut, or two to neatly cut someone in half with it.

“Sarah Dahlios has a point, and though nobody likes Revan, I second that,”

“It would be a waste of time for us if we just leave,” Trabant whispered to Lucifer, who looked back to his advisor and then to Viola before nodding once, his bastard sword never leaving the intended path to destroy both of them. Cassandra could still hear the whimpering of Fir Northwind as Serra tried her best to consol her, Seed looking ready to explode again on a moment’s notice, and the only thing holding in check was Fir’s little hand holding his tightly. How cute, and useless, love was, Cassandra thought.

“Very well, then,” Troy Priam said diplomatically. “Speak your piece, and then return to your cells,” Noel gave a timid look to them both, before hiding her head again. Guy Deltin still said nothing, his eyes not bothering to look at Cassandra, but rather at Vladimir with contempt. She wondered why Guy Deltin feared the general over her.

“There is a bit of a history lesson one must recall first,” Cassandra began. “Does anyone remember the Day of Black Tears?” There was silence that could only mean the answer was yes. “That was indeed the day that the Shroud of Shadows came into existence, pouring over the world the Clouds of Darkness. The Day was also the summoning of the Void, and all the power it has to control. But, that wasn’t what it was really meant for.”

Vladimir stepped forwards and spoke clearly. “The Shroud of Shadows is the only way to Mortarian’s Gate in this realm.”

“More fantasy nonsense,” Lucifer spat. Vladimir shrugged indifferently.

“Then plug your ears and silence your mouth, Prince of Carthage,” Vladimir baited him. Lucifer merely smiled back to him, matching the cruelty of Vladimir easily. There was an awkward stand off before Troy whispered something to Serra, and the Admiral of Black Isle shrugged whispering back.

“What is this gate you speak of?” Troy asked. Vladimir looked back to Guy Deltin and nodded to the boy in a half fashion.

“It’s,” The boy said softly out of the side of his mouth. “It’s the supposed entrance to the realm of the dead. Of course, I know that from comic books,” He added.

“It’s no lie,” Vladimir insisted. “Everything Xsenjen is working towards was opening the gate to the realm of eternal rest. I aided him in holding off several of the world’s super powers just to be able to make sure his research went unhindered. Not many of you were a real threat alone, but this silly federation didn’t give us as much free reign as we had hoped for. Fortunately,” Vladimir smiled darkly. “You started the second war, funneling yourselves to me so I could wipe you out,”

“Shut his mouth!” Paul shouted.

“Why don’t we stick to facts that pertain to the end of the world, please,” Troy said over Paul’s voice as he calmly tried to regain control of the delegation. Vladimir bowed in apology, but the motion was rather sarcastic in nature. He spoke up again.

“My father had captured Steppenwolf Orlouge and asked the man a favor. He dipped the giant into the Void near the life streams, so he could gain visions of the future.” Cassandra stepped forwards.

“Around the end of the second war, I had worked for Xsenjen in obtaining my own goals, but the bastard went off and did his own thing, selling half his soul to the void, and earning himself a Praetorian named Broxsam.”

“What is a Praetorian?” Viola asked. “That doesn’t fit most of the standard designation for Void creatures.” Cassandra smiled to her.

“Your primitive way of categorizing the void is cute, at best. But there are fiends and creatures of the void that you have yet to witness. Beasts that make Titans seem tame, and creatures with power to control the void as an extension of their will. Broxsam, is such a creature. He is the strongest Void creature on this planet. I had advised Xsenjen against this, but he would have none of my warnings. So I left him to pursue my own agenda. But I received a warning from Victoria Sigma, one of my pupils, of what Xsenjen was up to. She and I collaborated and when news reached me that Broxsam had found out the plans had to be pushed forwards. She sent me Vladimir as proof of what we tell you.”

“The final days of this planet are coming up,” Vladimir continued. “Broxsam and Xsenjen performed a ritual of summoning to create a key that would open Mortarian’s gate, that key when forged, however, sent us one savior. Jensen Ambrose.”

There was a moment of murmurs before Serra and Seed looked to each other concerned. Paul was the first to speak. “That guy Broxsam kidnapped?” Vladimir looked to Cassandra and she could feel the frustrations within him building. She forgot to mention to that to him.

“We can discuss that later, but the point is when Mortatian’s gate opens, Broxsam will use the power of the Void to flood the realm of the dead with eternal darkness. The void’s limitless power will combine with the immortality of time, and create a power that is to strong for this world to handle, and will explode the world.”

“That makes no sense,” Sheex said in exasperation. “You can’t honestly think we’d buy that.”

“The concept, King Deltin, is rather simple when explained as such,” Cassandra said smiling to him. For the first time since drawing his sword Guy gave her a warning look that she actually flinched from. Angrily she crept her dark inhibitions forwards, it hissing at him like a snake before she spoke again. “Imagine if you would, the world as a Balloon. Fill it with air, and it floats just fine, poke a hole and it will deflate, steadily, over time. But what would happen if you fill the balloon with to much air?”

“It pops,” Sheex said as if this was common knowledge. He looked to everyone else to make sure there wasn’t something he was missing.

“Exactly,” Vladimir said next. “Ignis Fatalis effect. No more world.” The knight looked back and forth as he stepped backwards again. Cassandra smiled back to them.

“Simply put, you have one week before Broxsam and Xsenjen begin the process to open Mortarian’s gate. If we do not aid Jensen Ambrose by laying siege to Xsenjen’s realm, we are all doomed.”

“And why exactly, should we believe all this?” Serra said darkly. “Tall tails, and fancy rituals. Yes, this all sounds like one of my dear brother’s rather poor Fantasy stories he loves to write. Far to epic for my tastes.”

“Like a trap,” Troy saying Serra’s implied words. The girl smiled to him which he returned back.

“Revan agrees,” Jared said with Sarah Dahlios nodding behind him.

“Not that we care what you have to say, traitors,” Lucifer grunted. “But Carthage would like a little more proof that this is all happening. Why shouldn’t we think you are simply are all plotting to finish us off?” Cassandra smiled her toothy smile to him, challenging him as she shrugged her shoulders in a seductive manner.

“You have only our words to go off of. I have put myself as has Vladimir into delivering this message. You can either trust us and save the world, or choose not to believe us and die. Simple really. I narrowed it down to two options for ease.” She grinned. Lucifer grinned back matching her gaze.

“Or we could take option three,” Lucifer said with deadly intent. “Trust your words, and kill you.” Cassandra’s eyes widened at those words. Lucifer laughed as he went on the attack. “Did you think we were going to let you go for telling us the world is ending?”

“That’s pretty ignorant thinking,” Paul chuckled. “Like hell we’d let you go.”

“You killed so many…” Seed seethed as Fir still cried into Serra’s lap. “I won’t allow you to live after the atrocities you committed!”

Cassandra backed away as more of the felgates began to agree, shouting at her for her blood. She looked to them, concerned, before looking to David King who shook his head laughing as he lifted his sword back.

“Don’t look at me, Murderer,” She turned to Vladimir who still stood stoically as he watched the group figure out how best to kill them. Emprea’s Paul Donovan explained their could be an accident, as Emprea had been known to have many. Carthage declared proudly they still enforced a death penalty, and as a favor to the other nation’s it would be expedited. Cassandra grabbed for his hand, but he lifted his hands and crossed them over his chest.

“We don’t deserve the right to live, Lady Remi,” Vladimir whispered. “We are terrible people, who have done terrible things.”

“You will let them feed us to the wolves!” She did all but shriek. Vladimir remained quite as Troy announced that in one week’s time Vladimir and Cassandra Remi would hang in Carthage. He slowly turned to Cassandra.

“You did this to save your own ass,” Vladimir looked to her with contempt. “I do this to rectify the sins I have committed. Not even my death will atone for all the wrong I have done, but even if no one will forgive me, I must still do the right thing.”

“Tough words, coming from you Vladimir Sigma, when your hands are so red with blood,” Cassandra spat realizing she had no help to save her. Victoria had assured her that Vladimir would act accordingly!

“We are traitors Cassandra Remi,” Vladimir smiled. “We cannot trust the words of traitors, now can we?” Cassandra looked to him with incredulous eyes, shocked to hear him sell her out just to save these animals!

“Captain King, Captain Donovan, remove this trash from our sight, if you both would please escort them to the prison cells,” Viola asked nicely. Paul stood up cracking his knuckles as David tapped Vladimir on the arm with his sword. Cassandra made a move to attack Paul, but Vladimir once again grabbed her with his own hand to prevent her.

“This is our fate, Lady Remi, embrace it. Kinda feels nice to do something…nice.” Vladimir grinned.

[Zantetsuken]

Serra watched the delegation recess from far away, standing against the back wall with her foot against the stone wall of the Emprean castle. The news that was presented as well as the overwhelming evidence didn’t set well with the Admiral of Black Isle, but then again what choice did they have? If on the long shot chance this stunt was really the last hurrah for the world, who was she to ignore it? Everything made very, very little sense and it bothered her.

Not as much as the Hag Queen bothered her, though. The two people in all of the world that Fir was terrified of, the two people aside from Xsenjen who had caused that innocent eight year old so much pain, just happened to be the ones who warned them of the world’s end. Still, the pure joy that bitch got from seeing Fir so startled made the Admiral want to draw her sword and ram it through her throat. The only thing that held her back was Seed already trying for the same thing in her stead. He was a great brother, an amazing artist, and an exceptional caring soul, but not handy when it came to violence.

Serra admired that in the soft spoken boy. In a world where violence was as natural as breathing, he had made it a point to make sure he and his sister were kept out of harm’s reach as much as possible. He was not just Fir’s guardian, but also her mentor, parent, and moral compass. Just being around Seed made Serra change her swears and curses to a catchall phrase adopted by the child prodigy: fiddlesticks. She smiled to herself thinking of the sillyness of such a word, and her eyes glanced up to see a body approaching hers. Taking in a calming breath she fixed her hair and stood tall and regal, as one would expect from a diplomat from her island nation.

“Drop the formalities, it doesn’t suit your beautiful face,” Troy said with a charming smile. Serra lowered her body back to the wall, as Troy turned and took a spot next to her watching the diplomats and advisors rushing around the table to prepare for the second half of the meeting. Seed had taken Fir to the kitchens so both could regroup after such a traumatizing experience. They sat for a moment, just enjoying the fondness of being in each other’s companies, before Serra turned to Troy.

“You think my face is beautiful, even though I can see only out of one eye and I got a scar that is longer than your sabre?” Serra joked as she wiped the stray stands of her hair out of her eyes. She and Troy had dated once, for about a month. The month they had was, to be blunt, amazing. The two did almost everything together, and did almost everything to each other, (a point of pride from Sheex for offering his expert advice), and at the end they both smiled, agreed that it wasn’t something they would pursue, and remained close friends ever since. Serra really did enjoy Troy’s company, but he was far happier with Noel than he had ever been with her, and Serra knew one day she could find that kind of love.

“Merely being polite,” Troy teased to her as the similar flood of emotions seemed to affect him. Serra lifted one hand and patted the man on the back, before playfully slapping him for his insult. Troy and Serra laughed for a moment, before Troy let out one of his trademark sighs. Something he had picked up when he was informed by the Benzer nation that he would be in charge of the delegation of the merchant nation for the Federation. That responsibility eventually grew to running the meetings, keeping the peace, and in some rare cases, stopping Paul Donovan and Lucifer Blight from actually killing the other. It was the sigh of a man who did not want the responsibility he was given, but did not shy away from it either.

It was usually why she allowed the man to endlessly mock her brother.

“Time to ring in the Delegates. I guess it seems we really are going to plan for world war three. Funny that,” Troy muttered. “This is something I know deep down I should be more concerned about, but…”

“History has sorta jaded us to this idea. The world is going to end, but really? All I can think of is shrugging, and thinking ‘Oh man, again?’ before grabbing my boots. At least I get to see you, and of course, beat you in chess. I don’t like the trick you pulled in our last game.” Serra wagged a finger at him as she stepped forwards towards her seat, Troy smiling at her before his body wrenched violently to the side as little Noel grabbed her husband and began to whine/whisper very loudly to him about talking with she devils and kitten killers. Serra rolled her eyes and smiled. Noel could be so damn cute at times.

“Alright,” Troy said lifting his arms upwards, waving everyone back into the meeting room. Several servants picked up loose plates of food as Advisors dropped off the last stack of reports and files before rushing out, and the formal setting of the Delegation meeting could begin. Serra sighed as she really wished her mother was with her. Karel looked like he played favorites when it came to ruling Black Isle, but in all honesty her mother was a shark in a small pond when it came to diplomacy. Alas, she was needed in Carthage, for the Blood Stained Kingdom needed constant attention.

“I assume, by your tone, that we are actually going to talk matters of war?” Viola asked, her tone respectful and polite. Something about the Chief Advisor of Emprea always settled oddly well with Serra. She was very blunt and to the point, but not in such a manner as to offend. She simply refused to waste her time with idle chit chat, and being the Fleet Admiral of Black Isle she could understand the necessity and desire to be brief. Which made her wonder why Viola was dating Paul Donovan, for he was not subtle either, but definitely lacked the social grace.

“Indeed we are, everyone.” Troy looked out the window to the sky, seeing the Shroud of Shadows looming over the world ominously. Serra gazed at it too before nodding her head. “Let’s start with basics. Since the world is ending, it would be prudent to discuss what each nation will bring to the defense of the Federation. I assume we all have enough supplies to support our own armies, and if not, well, Benzer can easily make up any deficit in exchange for payment plans.”

“Oh yes, Benzer and it’s silly payment plans,” Lucifer chuckled. “If any nation can’t supply itself, it shouldn’t be a part of this Federation.” Trabant nodded his head. Viola looked crossly to the Prince of Carthage, but said nothing on the matter.

“Moving forwards,” Troy said in a deeper tone, looking past Lucifer to each face to show he was in charge. “It’s time to discuss what we’re bringing. As part of the Raganrok Clause each nation must report what it will send, and ninety percent of their forces must be sent or equal resources contributed. The only exception to this rule is Irenes and Reven, which their nations do not have sufficient forces to send without crippling their nation’s defenses against the void. Going from right to left, let’s circle the table and get this over with.”

“Well, Black Isle has forty warships, sixty seven frigates, and over a hundred trade vessels that can be modified for war, all ready to set sail in a week. Most will need to stop at airports for refit, and will need the corresponding nation’s consent to stay in their air zone.” Serra replied. “Overall that’s about two hundred vessels for the saving of the world,”

“Carthage has, and always will have, the largest military on the ground. We have several divisions of cavalry, countless foot soldiers, and fifty companies of elite warriors. Supply trains will take awhile to function, but we’ll be prepped and ready to march in two days time considering the emergency,” Lucifer then turned to Viola with a long, dark smile.

“And how exactly fast can Emprea mobilize its forces in the event of an emergency? And exactly how many forces will you be sending out?” Viola gave a dry look to Lucifer as her gaze crossed to Troy’s.

“The matter is irrelevant.” Viola lifted up a paper in her hand. “According to my advisors, it’s impossible to march that many soldiers to the Crimson Gulch in time to make the deadline. The world would already have ended for at least four days. And that’s with a forced march. Considering Carthage is so much larger, it’ll be estimated that they can’t arrive on location with significant presence for at least two and a half weeks.”

“And how do you know how fast it takes us to mobilize?” Trabant asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Because you keep bragging about how large your army is,” Sheex barely whispered. “Which means they must be compensating for something,” He said to Guy with a smirk. Guy did his best to stifle a giggle as did Viola. Paul laughed, hard, and Jared showed his teeth to the Carthage prince in a leering grin. Fir and Seed Northwind had just walked into the room when the Prince stood up, slapping both his hands on the table and glaring at Sheex.

“You dare to mock me, Irenes, when your nation has nothing to offer? While our nation’s bleed and die to protect yours, you sit on your throne while your wife gags on you!” There was a bump from underneath the table, and sheepishly Leila poked her head out.

“What? I was fixing his shoe. The lace came undone!” Leila sat in her chair, fixing her clothes. “If he tripped and fell, I would feel so guilty for not fixing it.” Her face was redder than the apple she played with in her fingers. Lucifer let out a frustrated sigh as he sat back down.

“What does mighty Irenes offer as fair compensation to our delegation? From where I sit, it looks like nothing much,” Lucifer then turned to Jared and snarled to him as he spoke with spite. “Bah, whatever the hell Irenes sends is still going to be a thousand times over more useful than whatever you Revans have to offer!” Jared remained cool as he shrugged his shoulders.

“We got over six hundred Black Operatives designed to take on the Void. They are trained to work as teams and hunt down the Echoes. These highly trained warriors are also equipped with the best technology designed to fight the echoes! You’de be impressed what Reven can do.” Sarah looked to Lucifer, nodding her head.

“I’m impressed if you can get your little toy ship to fly!” Came the retort. Yet it didn’t come from Lucifer’s lips, but the youngest voice in the room. Fir Northwind was yet again, standing on her brother’s knees (much to his pain) pointing at Jared in accusation. “You think you built the greatest anti-Echo weaponry? That’s like saying you built the world’s greatest space ship! It’s only great cause nobody else bothered to build something like it! I could build a bajillion times better Anti-Echo device than anything your half sized brain came up with!”

“Is that right, little girl? Shouldn’t you be in bed now, sucking your thumb?” Jared asked mimicking the motion. “Or is the scary night time keeping you up? Why don’t you use that big ego of yours to make a night light and go whine in your bed sheets, kid!”

“Why don’t you trade insults with someone your own age and size, Cesarino,” Serra retorted, venom dripping from each syllable as she shifted forwards in her seat. There was very little that could anger Serra, for she had seen and been through so much. Yet a line crossed whenever anybody had spoken ill of Fir or Seed. The last person in a delegation to attempt such a thing was Lucifer as a sideways comment while arguing with Viola. Wisely, the Prince never spoke to the girl again after Serra’s threats.

Fir, feeling Serra’s protection, did what any sane eight year old did when a parental figure had your back. She stuck her tongue out at Jared and crossed her eyes. Jared snarled as he looked away, back to Sheex and Irenes.

“Whatever, at least we’re sending something,” Jared muttered.

“Alright, moving forwards,” Troy said clearing his throat. “Benzer has five divisions of infantry, and forty banners of cavalry. Emprea, still awaiting those numbers.” Viola looked to Troy with wide eyes.

“And how the hell did you expect us to move these soliders within a week? Benzer is a week away from Emprea! You can’t march in time, nobody can!” Viola rubbed the bridge of her nose in an effort not to raise her voice in her agitation. “This is absolutely absurd.”

“We could pack them into the trade ships!” Fir offered excitedly, doodling with a sketch before her. The sketch was rather well done, and had to have been done by Seed as the crayon began destroying the beautiful artwork. Seed sighed a little at this, but smiled as Fir’s eyes lit up. “Yes, yes, I see it now…We can break out the riggings, eliminate the weight here and here, and pack everyone up! Like stinking rats!”

There was a stunned silence.

“Well it’s better than anything Jared came up with,” She muttered leaning back into Seed’s chest. Lucifer cleared his throat again.

“Well, until somebody thinks of something, this meeting is never going to end.” There was murmur of how things would proceed as Sheex remained quiet, Leila looking to him longingly as he had his head deep into his chest in thought. Guy gave him a casual look and was about to poke his father when the man burst up from his seat.

“I’ll be back, honey, you’re in charge!” Sheex cried out as he ran out the hall.

“Oh look, he’s done the first smart thing and abandoned ship,” Lucifer muttered. “Maybe we should all take a page out of Irene’s book and flee…” The prince sassed.

“Bunch of cowards,” Jared spat. “At least we’ll fight.” Leila looked hopeless as she looked upon all the leering faces, the sneers and the confused looks. Troy looked genuinely apologetic as did Serra, Viola didn’t even bother to look at her as Lucifer gave her a glaring glance. Jared just kept giving him that creepy toothy grin as he flipped one dagger in his fingers, Sarah Dhalios giggling to see Leila suffer.

“Better than a bunch of Traitors,” Paul Donovan said from behind Leila. She turned her head back and offered him a sheepish smile as he winked to her, taking his seat back next to Rachel Leona and Lady Azza. Leila turned around and looked to them all before she played her trump card.

Lifting up a large satchel she dumped the contents on the table, make up compacts and fingernail polish littering the table space over all her paperwork. Smiling meekly she looked up to Noel and Serra. She and the petite woman both eyed the colors with longing, their female instincts kicking in as even Viola scanned one or two colors. Fir looked like she was drooling, which surprised the Admiral.

“Who wants their fingernails polished?” Leila asked. Before anyone could reply Fir vaulted off her brother and slid on the table with fingers extended.

“OUU ME ME!” Noel rose a single hand, and Viola let out a snort of mirth as Paul started pointing out colors he thought would look nice on her. The head of the Dahlios clan shrugged shifting forwards pushing Jared aside as Serra looked to Troy and grinned leaning forwards.

And Troy? Troy sighed louder than ever before.

[orphans]

Through most of the entire meeting, Azza had kept quiet aside from the occasional clearing of her throat. Kingdom politics for the teenager was something beyond her comprehension and if anything, the entire process was worse than how things were decided at the survivor camp where she originally hailed from. Sure, they were rowdy and rude to each other as well, but when every resource was valued, including the most useless of idiots, everyone knew well enough not to go at another’s throat.

A body was a body and that was the grim reality of it, yet these… “leaders” were more than content to flaunt their status and might to see who had the greatest gonads. They were content to fight each other and only hesitated to ponder the possibility to work together.

It was ridiculous. Utterly and completely ridiculous and though it made the young lady fume in anger, she held her tongue.

Slowly and surely, her thoughts drifted further and further from the discussion at hand, since it made no real progress, and turned to the thoughts of the man who claimed to be her father. He was nothing she wanted in a father and had none of the qualities she thought a father figure should have. Then again, she didn’t know what to expect either from parents that had supposedly abandoned her.

It wasn’t until Sheex exclaimed something and ran out did Azza come back from her thoughts. By glances up and down the table, she could tell that she didn’t miss much, and out of a polite gesture, shifted her seat over so that Paul Donovan could sit down.

The final puff that finally toppled her faith in the group was the large satchel of makeup. She wanted to join in the group of women ogling the fineries, but make up was just that; inane objects and luxury that only made the girl jealous at heart.

Without any reservations left, she slammed her palms down on the table and stood. Instantly, the noise of the women stopped and all eyes of the room fell on Azza as she. Words had never been her strong suit and as she struggled to find the right ones, Lucifer turned a smirk of amusement to her.

“Oh ho, looks like the ratty pigeon has something to say as well. Try not to hurt your brain while you think.”

“Now that’s uncalled for,” Paul began but Azza held up a hand. Although grateful for his assistance, the young woman wanted to pick her own battles.

While it was still true that Azza couldn’t find anything to say, she knew what she needed to do. Find Jensen. He held answers that she wanted, or potentially did. Either way, it was a start to knowing what she really was. It was the question that fueled her will for her survival all these years.

“I’m leaving, after I replace my sword.” Without anything else, Azza made her way for the door, no one stopping her or caring because after all, she was just a hotheaded and naive orphan in their eyes.

It was at the door however, that Azza bumped into Sheex. Rather, Sheex collided into the girl, knocking her back into the room. With barely an apology, Sheex, hopped over her form to present whatever it was he wanted to those assembled.

Despite her want to leave, she couldn't help but be remotely interested in what could cause the man to be in such a rush. Besides, a few more seconds of waiting around won't kill her.

[Sheex]

"Shoulda stayed to get your nails done, Horny Lady. Leila's make-up is always the prettiest!" Fir said gleefully as blew on her nails to make the polish dry quicker. She also pointed out that she chose the color red in order to match Seed's hair.

"Got it! Oh SHIT! Sorry, ah, my bad. I'm really usually nicer than this, I swear! Matter of world security!" Sheex shouted as he slammed into Azza on his way back into the room. He then slowed to a stop, tapping a finger on his chin idly. "Hmph. You know, that really doesn't seem like much of an excuse when everyone's screwing around putting make-up on, does it?"

"Are you saying my stall tactics are inappropriate?" Leila muttered as she finished painting Sarah's fingernails.

"Of course not, I love watching everyone be all girly. Reminds me that there's something actually worth saving," Sheex responded as he dashed over to the table, carrying what seemed to be a large map as he did so.

"Ha. Carthage isn't worth saving in King Deltin's eyes," Paul chided. "Guess that makes sense, what with the Carthage delegation being a such a sausage fest."

"Odd talk coming from the man dating the person with the most testosterone at the table," Trabant smiled wryly as he spoke.

"I suppose I am a bit more manly than you," Viola countered back.

"Well, naturally. Only the most manly of men would dare to stomach a night with that fur ball." Trabant pointed his finger in Paul's direction. "Honestly, I'm surprised you don't get all tangled up in the-"

"And the world is ENDING! King Deltin, what is it you have to say?" Troy shouted in an attempt to restore a bit of order (and to prevent a fist fight).

"Eh? Oh, yeah. Thanks for watching my seat Babes," Sheex said as he gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek. She blushed slightly as Sheex motioned for two people to enter the room. A well dressed man with blond hair, backed by an extremely muscular dark skinned man, entered.

"So, here's the deal. We need to move a bunch of troops as quick as we can, but we can't cause it'll take too long, and we'll all be dead by the time we actually show up." As he spoke, Sheex unrolled the paper across the table. To the casual eye, it was a map of most of the world, including the nations of the Federation, and the area surrounding Crimson Gultch.

"Very good. I'm glad to see the entire time we spent nail painting wasn't completely wasted," Lucifer said in a snide fashion. Sheex ignored him, and pointed at the map on the table.

"Just look at the map, okay. What'dya see?" Sheex inwardly cursed. His tone was slipping back into his usual, more casual demeanor. Now wasn't the time for that.

"I dunno, but it looks like the plans of one of Cesarino's airships. A mess!" Fir shouted across the table.

"No, they're trade routes Fir. Good try though." Sheex heard Fir mutter "fiddlesticks" under her breath as Troy raised an eyebrow.

"If they are trade routes, they are unsanctioned trade routes. I recognize none of these," Troy said softly, his nation of Benzer the be all end all when it came to trade. Any route unsanctioned by the Benzer Merchant Guild was illegal, and the guild did not look likely on such transgressions.

"Nor would you. They are all completely unsanctioned, and one hundred percent illegal," Sheex said without batting an eye. He heard several people take a sharp breath; Troy frowned at his friend.

"If you are expecting me to over look this, I cannot. Though I am curious as to why you would openly admit such crimes."

"I'll show you." Sheex then took out another map, this one showed Clouds of Darkness. He put the two maps together.

"That...cannot be possible," Serra said softly. "Your routes go through the Clouds."

"I request that the room be cleared of all non-essential personnel," Sheex said to Troy, who stroked his chin, and then gave a small nod. People began to file out of the meeting room. When only the delegation members and their aides remained (and Azza, as Sheex still felt a bit bad about slamming into her), Sheex continued on.

"It's possible to fly through the Clouds. Irenes does it every day. How else do you think we smuggle all our goods, and skip paying Benzer's ludicrous fees for using their routes? Seriously, they're WAY overpriced Troy."

The lead delegate of Benzer was not, to say the least, pleased with this most recent comment. He glared at Sheex.

"Any other crimes you want to confess to? Bribery perhaps? Theft?"

"Don’t start; it's your corrupt officials selling off your supplies. Let's drop the act folks, everyone here knows what I do." Sheex shrugged as he walked about the table. "Say a Carthage noble wants a new sword, top of the line model. Their smiths can forge it, but if they really want the best, they've got to go to Emprea for the best ore. Need I comment on the likely hood of that happening?"

Emprea and Carthage just glared at one another; a snowball's chance in hell would have been generous. Sheex continued to pace about.

"Maybe a wealthy Emprean wants a shiny new necklace from Benzer. Yeah, you could pay those rates, or you could visit Irenes, and buy it for half the price. Sucks that Black Isle has all those airship plans, but funny how every nation has merchant ships. It's something we ignore, but who do you think sold off at least half of those plans?"

Sheex finished his walk at his own chair, every eye was watching him carefully.

"Every person in this room knows what I do. What Irenes does. It's the trade point that shouldn't exist, the backdoor for every dealing. It doesn't matter what it is, I've shipped it." He drew out his words now, making each one count. "Money. Ore. Weapons. Animals. People."

Sheex finished as he sat back down, more unsteadily than he would have preferred to.

"So...so can we do this?" Serra asked softly. "I mean, can we really move that many troops?"

"If I may, milady," The blond man behind Sheex interjected. "My name is Diomedes Argives, and as the head of King Deltin's operation, I can assure you it is possible. We will need to make several modifications to every airship we can, and we will need to most likely draft some civilian airships, but it is doable."

Lucifer let out a chuckle.

"You ready to finally give out those numbers Emprea? The delegations waiting," The prince said with a smirk.

"Seeing as how we can now move the troops in time, Emprea has-" Viola was cut off.

"Begging your pardon Chief Advisor of Emprea, but I'm not moving a damn thing," Sheex said in the faintest of whispers; his face was the palest of white.

"Excuse me?" Lucifer questioned as he stood up out of his chair in a very menacing manner. "What do you mean you're not going to move a damn thing?"

"Exactly what I said. Irenes is exempted from Raganrok Clause, so I don't have to do anything." Sheex smiled, but it was not a very good one.

"Then what the hell was the point of that little speech there? Might I remind you that I could conquer your nation in a day?" Lucifer stomped across the room towards Sheex, though he found his passage suddenly bared by the significantly larger man that had accompanied Diomedes into the room.

"Sheex, you cannot do this. What has gotten into you?" Serra asked as she stood up. "We need you. Now is not the time to be greedy."

"Now's the perfect time to be greedy. Make a deal with me, or find another way." As he spoke, a look of pain crossed Sheex's face, as if he regretted every word he said.

"How does me NOT stabbing you sound?" Lucifer muttered. "That good enough?"

"No. Try harder. Killing me now just ensures that the world ends. Stupid move that."

"Has it occurred to you that there are five armed men in the room with you?" Jared played with one of his daggers. "Fearless you may be, but in a scuffle your beloved wife might get...hurt."

"Touch my mother," Guy whispered softly as Sheex instinctively placed a hand in front of Leila. The room fell deathly quiet as the young boy put a hand over the hilt of his sword. Troy knew for a fact that whoever made the first move would not be fast enough to stop the Saint of Swords. "And I'll kill you where you stand."

"What is it you want Sheex?" Troy asked softly. It galled him to see someone he knew sink so low, but he wasn't about to draw his sword on a friend.

"Depends who‘s asking. I want Benzer to pardon every smuggler I have," Sheex answered.

"Easy enough," Troy breathed a small sigh of relief. The man was simply looking out for his people, that was understandable.

"And I want you to sanction my trade routes. All of them."

"Damn you Deltin!" Troy clenched his fist tightly. So maybe the man was just greedy after all. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Hmph. I say we call his bluff," Sarah Dahilos said from her seat. "Irenes has it easy, not having to deal with any Echoes. Let the darkness take his town, let the shadows kill his family. I wonder, King Deltin, if the sight of your daughter screaming in agony as her flesh is peeled of will be enough to change your mind."

Leila gasped, Guy glared, Sheex turned his head away as his lips trembled.

"And if I gave in, what then Sarah? Looking ahead, how could Irenes survive? The Clouds of Darkness will be gone, so quick trade routes will be open to all. Trade will open up, so smuggling will become harder. I won't sell my nation's livelihood only to have it be destroyed the second the war ends." Sheex then shot the woman a harsh look. "And I don't expect you to understand, but I have things I need to protect!"

A long silence fell over the delegation. Lucifer began to wonder how quickly he could bypass the man before him and strangle Sheex, Serra was busily rifling through papers (no doubt to try and find a way to catch Sheex legally), Viola wondered just how quick Guy was with that blade, Noel looked like she was about to cry, and Troy let out a long, dry chuckle.

"It seems you have us. I simply cannot compete with a man who holds the entire world hostage for his personal gain. Well played, Trickster Prince," Troy said with the grin of a bested man. He made sure to emphasize the title Sheex had earned when he had started his rule, wheeling his dealing his way between the other nations. He knew the man hated that nickname.

"HEY! You think I wanted this?" Sheex screamed as he angrily leapt to his feet, kicking his chair away as he did so. He was red in the face, breathing heavily. His fists shook, his eyes were red. Every motion was one of a very stressed man.

"You think I wanted to be a king? You think I wanted this responsibility? What I wanted was a quiet life with my family! I could have been satisfied with a small home and a place to work, but nooooo! Vladimir-I-Wreck-The-World-Sigma and Cassandra-Freaking-Bitch Remi had go to turn the world upside down! I didn't want this, BUT I GOT IT! So screw you Troy! I will play dirty! I will hold the world hostage! I will become whatever I have to protect my home! I’ll do whatever it takes Troy! Whatever it takes!"

A mix of looks and stares came Sheex's way. Some were looks of pity, others were looks of hate. Some gazes contained wonder at the brilliant political ploy he had just hatched, others wondered just how depraved a man had to be to barter the fate of the world. However, no face was worse than that of the Leila Deltin, the love of Sheex’s life. Her eyes had the look of someone who had lost something very important, and was not sure she would ever get it back. In fact, it was extremely unlikely that the innocence of the young couple's tender youth would ever return; the stain of this world had placed its mark upon their love.

But, in the end it was Fir who broke the stalemate. Without saying a word, she got up and walked across the table. She carried with her a small satchel; she clutched it tightly to her chest. She did not stop until she had reached Sheex, and she gently tugged on his sleeve.

"Ummm? Uncle Sheex?" The young girl asked very quietly. She always called him Uncle, even though he wasn't actually her uncle. "I don't understand a lot of what is being said, but if we win, that makes the Darkness go away, right?"

Sheex managed a slight nod. Oh God...I am so sorry Fir...

"I don't like the Darkness Uncle Sheex." That was a lie, she feared it more than anything else. The darkness that she saw wasn't just the night. It was the Darkness. The Darkness that had killed her parents. The Darkness that killed her friends. The Darkness that cost her the simple life of an eight year old girl. The Darkness that made her brother cry when he thought she wasn't looking. "So, if you want something to make the Darkness go away, I don't mind."

Fir knelt down on the table, and began to remove several papers from her satchel.

"I don't have much to trade, but will these do? I drew these a few weeks ago, they were for Karel, but I'll give to you them instead, okay?" Without hesitation, she put the airship plans into Sheex's trembling hands. She then looked into her pocket, and pulled out her brand new doll. "Oh. I have my new doll...I'll trade this too...if you want it."

With all the care he had ever once had, with all the tenderness that the young Sheex Deltin had ever possessed, with all the love that still beat in his chest, Sheex slowly put the doll back into Fir's tiny hands. He then kissed the young girl on the cheek, and whispered his heartfelt thanks. Proudly, and with her head held high, Fir walked back to her brother.

"I'm so very proud of you Fir," Seed whispered as he wrapped his arms around his little sister.

"I can't possibly build these. Irenes could never gather enough money. I'll sell 'em to the highest bidder." Sheex tossed the papers onto the delegation table. Lucifer, realizing just how powerful those airship plans could be, instantly checked his anger and leapt for them.

"Whatever Emprea's paying you, we'll match it. And I pledge my forces to defend Irenes!" The prince grinned hungrily. Just imagine how much the scales of power would tip if Carthage had its own air fleet!

"I doubt Carthage is capable of following through on those words!" Viola shouted back. "If they had so much wealth, they wouldn't be invading us every chance they got, now would they?"

"It's fine. You can each have one. Fir gave me two," Sheex said softly. The little girl smiled at him. "You are still required to send troops to Crimson Gultch though."

"Whatever. I'm sure you have a price. I'll pay it." And then, after the war's over, I'll reign supreme! The prince thought but did not say.

"As will Emprea," Viola quickly stated. And then turn the tides on Carthage with an airship! What does it matter if they have the largest force on land, if we take to the skies?

"It seems we are decided then. Benzer too must purchase a share of your transportation methods, we will not be the only one to not make it to the battle for humanity. I take it you will over see the logistics Sheex?" Troy said as he walked over towards the man, who was staring off into space just a bit.

With a small nod, Sheex motioned for Diomedes to pick up the paperwork on the table. The man obeyed, much to Carthage's and Emprea's dismay (they were still clawing at the airship plans).

"I'll approve of your trade routes, but I do not need those airships. My alliance with Karel allows me access to his," Troy whispered to Sheex.

"And I don't need that many trade routes. I'll sell the rights to most of them. Naturally, since you don't want my airship plans, I'll give you first choice," Sheex responded softly.

"And Black Isle and Revan? What will you charge them?"

"I'll work something out. Something that will keep the balance of power equal."

"Planned this out to the very last detail, eh?"

"No. But, what choice did I have but to follow through with it?"

With a soft pat on the man's shoulder, Troy turned his attention to the delegation. He summoned back the audience, and announced the unanimous decision. The Federation would be going to war.

[KOA]

Deep within the caverns of Xsenjen’s stronghold a frail body stalked the darkness. Each step was rushed, as if it was the last steps they would be taking. The encroaching abyss around this creature followed her every move, but with hand gestures and a little effort the Void receded. A tiny hand reached out of white robes, grabbing hold of an iron lantern covered in dust. Opening the small glass and checking the oil a triumphant nod and a confident flick of the wrist struck up a match. Carefully the lit wood ignited the wick and illumination cast aside the shadows.

Victoria Sigma sighed as she began to rush again. Time was growing shorter, far shorter than she and her husband had planned. She hated having to rush Vladimir out of the castle the way she did, but Cassandra assured her that he would make it to the Federation in time for them to mobilize. That was roughly six days ago, but the black haired consort of the Void had little concern for that. The Hag Queen, her only ally outside of her family she could trust, would have to take care of the world for her. What she had to do would require all her concentration.

The rounding staircase made her feel disoriented as she rushed down the spiral steps. Everything was a blur as she sank lower and lower to the inner dungeons where the prisoners would being held. She had hoped, prayed on a wishing star that when the airship crashed Xsenjen would ignore the threat of Jensen Ambrose, but Broxsam had foiled that plan when he captured her husband and revealed his disloyalty to their lord. Like they had agreed, should something happen to them Vladimir came first, and to protect their son she killed her husband. Her heart wept in mourning as she kept her face cold like and neutral, as if his death was as casual as breathing. She strained not to fall to the floor and weep for the loss of the man she loved, the man who protected her during the most trying of times. She had to though. The fate of the world was at stake.

It was all a blur, the whole situation. One minute she was grabbing Vladimir by the shoulder and dragging him to her chambers where she would push him into the Void for Cassandra to grab. He listened to her, like a good son, as she explained that she and his father knew all along and had been plotting to stop Xsenjen, but everything changed with Broxsam. That bastard from the void ruined any attempts to gain Xsenjen’s trust to be alone, and like a lapdog the Void being was always near him. Still, her son understood, and accepted his new destiny without complaint or concerns. He knew deep down what he had to do now, and didn’t shy away from it. She was so proud of her baby.

But she had her own mission. First thing she had to do was free the prisoners. If they couldn’t be freed, then all hope would be lost. Her secondary mission was to disrupt the Echoes leadership. The Void creatures needed power to sustain themselves or they would revert to feral animals. If she could have them leaderless, it would give the forces of humanity a chance. It was a slim one, at best, but it may just work. That unfortunately meant killing Anita and Kyla Orlouge. The handmaidens of the Void Lord were to be assigned to control the armies while Broxsam and Xsenjen were inside Mortarion’s gate.

At last she reached the final flight of stairs, eyes weary as she lifted her hand to the door. With a deep breath a large fist formed behind her, black ink like substances trailing off the closed fist as she closed her eyes and let out an exertion of force. The door exploded as the black fist destroyed it, a guttural scream coming from inside as a horrid stench made Victoria dizzy. She dismissed the hand of the Void and entered into the darkness with the lantern held up high looking to the one man who had the ability to help her.

“Sei Orlouge…” Victoria whispered. “It is time for us to go and visit the voices.”

“No, No, NO!” Sei hollered covering his face. “They are attacking me!”

“Illusions, Sei Orlouge. Build up your defenses!” Victoria ordered him.

“I can’t, they keep taking my spoon!”

“Don’t use a spoon, Sei,” Victoria offered. Sei looked to her, dumbly, before he nodded closing his eyes. His body trembled as if under a spell, convulsing as he arced his back against the stone cell wall. He gripped his fingers in the dirt and dug them in, drawing up blood from the tips of his fingers. He seethed at the mouth, grunting in pain as he kicked his feet out. Victoria stood watching him, letting her newfound comrade fight his own battle.

“You are the strongest Telepath I know, Sei Orlouge. You can beat back the voices.” Victoria was insistent in her tone, leaning forwards as she knelt down to be eye level with him.

“To…Much…Pain…”

“More than the pain of watching your friends die? Seeing the tragedy that is the fallen Ixian Knights? You can beat this pain, Sei Orlouge, for you have already experienced worse! Now dig deep!” Victoria shouted to him. Sei looked to her golden orbs, before he nodded again, grunting loudly as he began to bang his back against the stone wall. He kicked at the dirt, his body twitching violently as he fought off the Void taint inside his own mind. There was a war going on between the air, and Victoria could feel the tension between Sei and the Voices. One scraggly hand lifted upwards as Sei’s eyes narrowed, a small fire inside them beginning to burn.

“They….took….my….friends…” Sei’s thoughts echoed into the real world, as if he spoke them himself from his lips. He gripped one hand against his knee, bringing his head down into his lap as he drew in both feet. The other hand pushed against the stone wall.

“Feed off your hate, Sei. Let it burn away the darkness!” Sei looked up at her, and this time, the dwindling fire had blossomed into a roaring inferno as Sei Orlouge let out another muffled, muted cry of agony. He pushed himself upwards, dirt falling to the floor as the general of the Ixian Knights stretched his back. For the first time in years, he stood tall and proud.

“I am….Sei…Orlouge! Dragon…of Drantak! Lord of Ixian Castle!” Sei once again voiced his thoughts, the power telepathic feedback shaking a bit of the wall. Once again he had his pride, his memories as he pushed away the voices. Now they were no longer in his mind, no longer eating away at his soul. They were a mild irritant at the back of his mind now.

He stopped for a moment, hunching over as he grabbed his arm and quickly licked his elbow. Victoria let out a soft sigh as she pointed to the door. “Shall we have our family reunion?”

“I think so,” Sei mused, again his thoughts echoing from his body as if he spoke. The feeling was surreal to say the least as the man didn’t move a muscle on his face. “And when I am done lecturing my children, I will come for you to turn you in for your crimes.” Sei looked to Victoria with earnest intent to make true his declaration.

“Of course, Lord Orlouge,” Victoria said with a sad smile. “If we survive this I will happily let you do with me what you want.” She pointed to the stairway and Sei moved forward. She looked to the sky at the top of the spiral case, seeing the moon start to fade.

Time was quickly running out.

[orphans]

Azza’s nerves were on edge the moment the unanimous decision was made. In all honesty, she had accepted the world was doomed and that the mad man Xsenjen would have his wish… some day.

But the reality was that some day was close by. Uncomfortably close as if one could already smell the stench of death about to befall the world. That in itself made the young woman pace back and forth unendingly in a corner of the courtyard. The only moments that Azza had a brief respite from her nervous pacing was when the armor smith called her to take measurements and when the quartermaster asked her to select a weapon.

Choosing what she wanted was easy. Swords were all that she knew how to use and Azza simply gravitated towards the largest one she could find in the room. Dusty would have been one way to describe it. Covered in cobwebs and a complete lack of maintenance would have been another and from the looks of the quartermaster’s eyes, it was completely forgotten about. The man was even about to say something until he watched Azza lift it without much effort. With only a mutter, he said something to the effect of having it reforged by dawn.

Armor on the other hand was much trickier for Azza to choose. If the armor wasn’t too large and unbalanced, it was too small and constrictive. Her wings also prevented all the armors from fitting correctly while her horns rejected any helmet offered. In fact, any armor piece from the waist up required the armor smith to refit it for the woman but, it was a job and challenge that he took to with zeal. His pride and honor as a smith were on the line!

It was the waiting though that made Azza nervous. Thinking wasn’t her strong suit and when left alone with so much time, thinking was all she could do. Sure, some of the Emprean’s offered her to stay with them in company as well as some others. They all ended in the same way too. Azza would stay for a little while and when the group was distracted, would slip away.

Truth was, she didn’t feel comfortable with any of those around her. Jensen, the strange outsider, was one of the few people in her whole life that she had even felt slightly comfortable with and he was gone. Kidnapped by the Broxsam and pulled into the void for a joy ride. A sigh escaped from her as she collapsed down to the ground and gazed up to the muddy sky.

Though wispy, the void was still present in the heavens. Not enough strength to pose a dire threat, but enough to pollute the beauty that was once the right of this world. Peace? A forgotten luxury.

Another dejected sigh escaped from her.

The loss of Jensen, however, still weighed heavily upon the girl and it bothered Azza. She wasn’t normally a sentimental person. Not after witnessing the death of nearly everyone she had cared for during the initial invasion.

After what seemed to be hours of thinking, Azza figured it was the genuine care that Jensen had tried to foster between them for the short time they were together. It was odd and if anything the girl had felt her private space invaded, but that was perhaps why she grew attached. No one before had cared that much or even knew much about her.

“My, so Lady Azza does have capacity to be something other than a crude, angry child at times.”

The familiarity of Felicity’s voice didn’t even register for the girl, and elicited her usual response of, “Go choke on a hairball, Felicity…”

It wasn’t until Azza heard the giggling of Aislinn did she whirl around to face the two. “Lady Azza, you haven’t forgotten about us have you?”

Besides the question being rather out of place, Azza couldn’t help but feel a corner of her lips turning to grin. She had missed them and had hoped they still lived. Despite their usual hatred, they were something that Azza could call sisters. Sisters she hated, but still sisters.

“I’m guessing you shared one of your nine lives?”

“Oh stow it. Lady luck was on our side. I was going to say how disappointed I was with you. Thinking you had no one else as family other than the mysterious Jensen Ambrose.”

“Lady lucks a bitch and stop prodding into my head all the time.” Felicity scoffed, Aislinn continued to smile like a loon, and Azza glared at the two. “So how did you get here anyways?”

“Oh… that will be my little secret for now, Lady Azza,” Felicity teased as she began to walk off towards the main courtyard with Aislinn following close behind.

Azza chased after the two partially curious, but mainly annoyed. Felicity’s knack of wiggling under the young girl’s skin was ever present as she yelled after the two, “I can guess you got picked up by a ship and all, but can't you give me a straight answer just once?”

“Of course, not.” When Felicity finally stopped, Azza continued to glare. “My, with such a scary look, you might not make friends easily with what is left of the Ixian Knights of Apocalypse.”

“Yeah, because I’m sure they’re all here-…” Azza began, but as she trailed off, she took note of those who looked to her and Felicity. They bore no of insignia of Emprea or the other great nations seated at the table earlier that day. Instead, they wore the emblem that only dug into Azza’s hatred. The Ixian Knights of Apocalypse emblem. Sei Orlouge’s emblem.

“If this is your idea of making me feel better, it sucks.”

“I dunno Azza, you’ve always enjoyed a friendly tiff with Felicity to get your mind off things.”

By reflex, Azza scoffed and let the words roll from her mouth without a second thought. “Fuck off Coyo.” Realization then blindsided her as she turned quickly, only to be greeted by Coyo’s smirk as well as the laughter of dozens of familiar faces. “What-- Why are you all here?”

Coyo ran a hand through his scruffy hair before jerking a thumb to those behind him. “Well, a ship came by saying they needed help to save the world. Figured you’d be in the middle of this shit storm so we all came. You know how it is; we don’t leave our own behind.”

Azza took the moment to look past Coyo’s shoulders and saw nearly everyone from their home camp. It was a sorry assortment of orphaned children who had grown up fighting, wanderers with no place to call home, and former bandits who united together for a common cause: survival. A smile slowly formed on Azza’s lips as she returned her gaze to her childhood friend and his arrogant grin. “You realize we’re all gonna die right?”

“It’s going to be one hellava fight then, that’s for sure!” At that, Azza’s and Coyo’s laughter joined the rest as they clasped their fists together and embraced quickly.

Maybe, things won’t be so bad after all…

The two then let go, but not before Azza had whispered quickly to her childhood friend, "Meet me later, alone. I'm not taking no for an answer." A half grin appeared on the boy's face as he watched Azza move away to share words with what they both called family.

"May we assume anything special?" Felicity's voice shot a spark up Coyo's back as he spun and faced her, cheeks burning brightly.

"Uh..." was the only response he could muster to both Felicity's and Aislinn's disappointment. With their idea of amusement dashed away, the two sisters then moved off to rejoin what remained of their father's army; a tattered, but proud group of men and women.

Eventually, the different groups of soldiers began to settle into much needed rest for the next day. For many, it would be their last. That thought continued to play in Coyo's mind as he moved about the tents, looking for Azza. Tomorrow was most likely a suicide mission, but anything was better than just sitting with and waiting for the end.

At long last, Coyo turned the correct flap to Azza's tent, only to be greeted with, "You're late."

"So kill me. You know how many tents there are?" Moving inside, Coyo then froze once his eyes had adjusted to the dim light inside. He hadn't known what to expect, but seeing his friend's hair bound in a tight bun that left her bare back with a clear view was the last thing he'd guess.

"Coyo, I know what I'm going to ask you do to is going to sound... awkward, considering we've known each other for so long." An audible swallow echoed from the young man as Azza's wings unfurled before him. "I need you to sever these."

It was the second unexpected thing that bounced into the young man's head. To make sure he had heard correctly, Coyo edged out, "Er... you need me to what?"

"Just trust me on this. I need to you sever my wings." Nothing stirred between the two, aside from the night air, for a long time.

It was then broken after a minute by a nervous laugh from Coyo as he nodded his head, as if in perfect understanding. "R-right! Of course. Thaynes, what was I thinking. So... how should I do this?"

Azza waved a hand to a freshly sharpened long sword. "Use that. Also, tell the smithy that he doesn't need to work around my wings anymore. Should save some time."

As he moved closer, Coyo could make out the familiar tattoo of an arrow piercing a crescent moon on the woman's back. "Been a long time since I've seen that." Picking up the sword with both hands, he gave a test swing as he awaited for Azza's word.

Turning her eyes to her friend, she smiled bitterly at the mention of the mark upon her back. Something she had never learned the meaning of, and probably, never will. "Just don't miss, alright?" To that, Coyo smirked, then swung.

[KOA]

Victoria wandered with Sei at her side upwards into the castle, her purpose clear as day. The morning of Xsenjen’s ascension would soon be at hand and much needed to be done. Firstly she needed to be rid of the Void Baroness‘, Anita and Kyla Orlouge, and Broxsam too had to be dealt with. If she and Sei could handle the two girls then together they may stand a chance against the Praetorian of the Void Lord. She bit her lip in thought, causing Sei to lift a hand to her shoulder and squeeze gently.

“They are approaching, be prepared Victoria Sigma,” The woman nodded, lifting up to a more regal height as she readjusted her velvet gloves, smiling to herself as remembered the day Xavier had gifted them to her. When her golden eyes looked upwards she watched as two slender figures stepped out into the large oval room, the connecting point of the castle that led to its many antechambers and hallways. Wind blew against the windowpanes making a creaking sound as the wooden hinges flapped back and forth, the candlelight casting long shadows that depicted terrible monsters on the floor if one had the imagination to let it cloud their minds.

“The traitor’s know no limit to their heresy!” Anita spat looking to the two warriors before her. “Lord Xsenjen will be most pleased when I bring him the head of you, Victoria. He will find my favor the greatest in the land!”

“Even you cannot be so big a fool to know the man is going to spare the world! He’s going into Mortarion’s gate himself! He will destroy the world!” Victoria called back with venom, her hands lowering to her side as she held the darkness behind her at bay. Kyla stepped forwards, saying nothing as one hand gingerly moved up, her other fluidly moving as she turned in a dance step before shoving both hands forwards. Void energy formed between her flexing fingers, ten sword points forming before her outstretched fingers and flying at woman.

With a simple gesture of his hand Sei Orlouge stepped forwards, a wall of glass forming before Victoria and himself. When the swords shattered into the wall the glass did not break, but fractured and spider webbed. Anita cruelly chuckled as she stepped forwards, lifting a large crossbow easily half her size to her shoulder where she pulled the mini ballista’s trigger launching the bolt forwards at her father’s head. Victoria casually lifted one hand in a swiping motion and the darkness awakened behind her, thousands of glowing yellow eyes shifting as one to look upon the bolt. An ethereal hand slammed through Sei’s Mystic Protection, shunting the bolt aside as the glass flew forwards into the two daughter’s of the dragon.

They covered themselves from the glass, the shards ripping into their flesh and lacerating them with superficial wounds as Anita snarled to her father like a caged beast. “So, Papa, come to punish your daughters?”

Sei said nothing as he reached to his back for two familiar weights, a twin pair of curved swords twirling in his hands as he looked to both his children with a father’s disappointing glare. He showed no hatred, no malice, and his body language had no hostility or ill will to his kin, but the motions he made showed the one emotion he felt clear as day: Pity. The dragon of Drantrak pitied the apples that fell so far from the tree.

“How dare you look at me like that! How dare you!” Anita whispered in a tone so dark it sent shivers down Victoria’s spine. “You don’t even understand the hell you put me through! All because you’re so damn stubborn, Papa.” Sei said nothing as Anita glared to him. “You watched as all your little friends died! You watched as the people I grew up with were ripped asunder and desecrated by the Void before my very eyes! These people were dying and you didn’t do a single thing to help them!” Kyla mirrored Anita’s actions as the two stood strong next to one another.

“You would submit us to a slow death! You would rather see your own children die than protect them! You let all your general’s die, all your friend’s die, just to prove you could save the world! But you can’t! You never could!” Kyla shouted to him, the first emotional outburst Victoria had ever seen from the young woman.

“You let them kill Taka…” Anita whispered as she jealously lifted a hand to her chest, gripping a ring that was attached to a chain. “You let them kill my husband…and you look to me with…pity?” Sei’s face was a mask of concentration as he looked to the ring, and even still, the man looked to his daughter with the same blank stare.

“Like hell I’ll let you pity me!” Anita shrieked lifting up both hands over her head and calling upon the Void. A black liquid formed over her head and slowly shaped itself into a giant claymore, the pommel resting in her hands as she let out a bellow of hatred. “How dare you give me the look you do, Papa! You do not deserve the right to look us in the eye after what you have done!”

“ENOUGH!” Sei shouted, his voice echoing before him. The enormity of his words caused the windowpanes to shatter, the wind blowing into the castle foyer sending the drapes snapping helplessly in its embrace. Anita faltered in her charge, covering her face from the gale. Sei lifted his weapons to a ready position, and Victoria stepped forwards prepared as well.

“I will enjoy watching you die, Papa,” Anita’s voice cracked, insanity driven grief and years of mental anguish softly stroked by Xsenjen’s hand spilling out. The girl looked to the man who raised her with spite in her eyes, before she dismissed the claymore and summoned the void to her side again. This time the Void took the shape of two curved blades, each as long as her arm as she began to shuffle like a dancer. “Come and dance with your little girl, Papa!” Anita screeched as she let the insanity grip her mind, the poison of the Void tainting her mind as she charged her own father.

Kyla’s hands lifted upwards to her side like supplication as she clenched her fingers tightly, and soon a black pool formed around her feet. She lifted her head back, eyes straining as she flexed all her muscles forwards slowly. The pool grew before her into a milky grey substance, before it began to glitter in the moonlight. As it formed slowly the girl let out a shriek of pain, dropping to one knee. When she lifted her head back up Victoria observed Kyla’s left eye was completely absorbed by the Void, a blank soulless eyeball looking back at her.

“I want it all, just to kill you, Victoria! I hate my father, I truly do, but I do not hate him as much as I hate you!” Kyla spat. Victoria lifted one hand upwards and then pushed it forwards. As one the eyes behind her blinked, then opened as a fifteen small soldiers stood by Victoria’s side. “You’re pathetic miscreants cannot harm me!” Kyla spoke, her voice echoing with eldritch energy as she pulled up with all her might. The pool before her quickly formed into a humanoid shape, two gleaming blue eyes crackled with sizzling hate as the soldiers all began to growl in wrath. The guardian of Kyla let out a roar of challenge, taloned fingers the size of large daggers prepared to claw at the first thing that moved. Between it’s muscular legs swung a tail with a deadly scythe upon the tip.

“Go!” Victoria commanded of her soldiers. The Void beings charged forwards, and with a swipe of the tail the front four were obliterated. Two talons swung outwards, clawing another two before the rest began to tackle the creature. It screamed as it fought, kicking the soldiers away as its talons ripped them apart when possible, or clawed them into pieces. Kyla lifted her hand to the side and swiped it towards Victoria, dozens of tiny darts flying forwards.

Victoria stepped forwards, snapping a finger next to her, and one of the soldiers retreated from the fight, jumping upwards and impaling itself on several of the darts. Victoria whim fully brushed her hand forwards and the other darts were eradicated as a wave of dark energy pushed outwards. Kyla’s eyes widened in terror as the wave came right at her, and with a snarling cry for help the Legionnaire Void creature turned and jumped at the wave, it’s taloned hands catching the wave and absorbing it with a cry of pain as it slid on the ground. Victoria pulled one hand back and closed it into a fist, punching forwards as an ethereal black hand slammed into the Legionnaire sundering its body upon the wall as it let out a short, garbling cry.

“I will not let you upstage me, Victoria!” Kyla shouted as she swiped her hands together in a loud clap. The soldiers that had charged her vanished in a tidal wave of dark rippling energy, a pool forming before her. “You have the Void at your back, but I have it in my soul! I will gladly let it devour me if it means I’ll kill you! For all the pain you put me through, all the brainwashing you did to my sister! Your hands are just as bloody as mine, witch! I despise how you think you’re the noble one here!” Kyla’s rage flowed from her mouth and with it the power of the Void waxed strongly. With each hate filled curse to Victoria an Astartes was born, the creatures hunched over with oversized knuckles hanging to their sides in wait for the order to finish off Victoria. The female knight watched them grow in number, and Victoria sighed as she watched the creatures begin to chatter angrily.

“You have a legion of Soldiers with you at any point, but I have a legion of Astartes, Victoria. I wonder who will reign supreme?” Kyla taunted.

“Who ever told you I commanded only soldiers?” Victoria mused loudly. Kyla’s face faltered for a fraction of a second. Victoria took one step back. “Who dare gave you such a notion that the third most powerful Void user in the world could only summon soldiers?”

“If you have more, I will summon more!” Kyla shouted. Dozens of blades spun around her head like a halo, ethereal weapons forming in the Astartes hands. She gripped deep into her soul and pulled more power from the reaches of her heart, feeding off her hate. “I will not let you destroy all I have worked for, not when your hands are bloodier than mine! You are not the right one here, Victoria! Legionnaires, come forth!” Kyla beckoned, as she beckoned more and more Legionnaires began to appear. They took rank with the astartes, and the floor they stood on began to groan with the weight of so many enemy bodies upon it. Yet even still Kyla drank from the Void, soldiers filling up gaps as a literal army of Void creatures, armed with the weapons Kyla formed, stood before Victoria. “I will kill you, I will kill you, I will kill you,” She spoke it like a mantra now as blood dribbled from her cheek. She weakly looked to Victoria, who gave her an appraising look, but not one of fear. On the contrary, she looked to Kyla with remorse.

Still more Void creatures appeared, and Kyla let out a gasp of pain as she felt something bleeding inside her, crimson droplets escaping her finger tips as she beckoned more of the Void. It was never clear what level of insanity the two daughter’s of Sei Orlouge had reached when in the service of Xsenjen, and the pain’s they felt were magnified to such epic proportions that Victoria was deeply saddened by it. They were beyond redemption, beyond all hope, but they rallied against the people who would have saved them if given the chance. The man they adored, the man they loved, was the man who even now cared not that they were about to die.

“Where is your power play, Victoria?” Kyla asked, feebly as she motioned for her army to march. Victoria sadly closed her eyes, as did all they eyes behind her. The Void creatures stirred forwards, growls and insect like chatter humming in the air. Some Legionnaires took flight above the others, wicked spears in their hands. Victoria lifted her head up, eyes casting open slowly as she sighed loudly over the noise.

The entire castle shook as a throaty growl erupted into a shriek of challenge behind Victoria, a titanic beast like appendage slamming into the castle floor denting the stones and sending debris flying everywhere. Another reached out and slammed next to Victoria’s side, claws digging into the stone ripping it up as half a body entered through the fog of shadow behind the golden eyed woman. Kyla looked to the creature and her head shook in terror.

“No…No…you can’t have that! You can’t control that! You promised me nobody but Lord Xsenjen could control a Titan!” Kyla looked to Victoria as the woman shrugged to her, a know it all smirk on her face.

“We are betrayers, Kyla, and you know more than I do to never trust the words of a betrayer. I purposely withheld my Titan from everyone’s view, masking him with the eyes of the soldiers, but really, he just has an ugly face.”

As if to show the point Victoria made, the creature’s body pushed through the hole in the shadows, and one gnarled and battered face looked to Kyla with thousands of insect like eyes. A host of soldiers clung to the beasts face like parasites, crawling all over it like roaches. With one mighty yell the army of Kyla faltered backwards, and with free reign it lifted both hands out, clasping them together and squeezing all the army together and lifting letting the Void drip between its nasty, crude fingers. Kyla stood in horror as she watched her army soundly defeated, her grip on the Void weakening with her fear. The few creatures she had left vanished back to the Void, banished by Victoria’s baleful eye. Kyla looked to Victoria, then turn and ran, hobbling on one weakened foot as she screamed for Anita. Victoria had noticed Sei had disappeared in the fighting, which was fine. Victoria had one last thing to deal with.

It was time to find and face Broxsam once and for all.

[Silence Sei]

Anita stood before Sei, the once proud Daughter of the Dragon staring her father down as if he had destroyed the world with his own hands. Of course, in Anita's mind, he had. Taka had been the love of her life, and before going off on that fateful mission, had actually proposed to Anita. The thought of this caused the girl to bring her hand to her stomach, where once a child had been growing inside of her. This was before the news of Taka's death, before she had fallen ill, before the doctors had told her that grave news.

The one thing that could have torn apart the bond between Sei and Anita was Anita's bond to her little girl.

And so, the two warriors stood, continuing to glare at one another. Anita's eyes were full of contempt, hatred for the man that killed her family. Conversely, Sei's own blue orbs were filled with regret. He was not strong enough to go help Taka, to take care of Anita in her time of need. It would b the first of many times Sei Orlouge would feel absolutely powerless. He had gone into a depression, lost himself on his journey. He had become a slave to the voices, and now, one of those same voices was standing before him.

"I know what you're trying to do, Sei," Anita spoke without moving her mouth, "The trout are going to ransack the seventh building of Concordia during the thirteenth hour. You failed. You always fail. You are the master of failure. You could not even make sure your own little girls did not succumb to their darker urges. What good are you, Sei Orlouge? Tell me!"

To the outside world, the two were fiercely locked in a starring contest, but this was because the battle was not taking place on a physical plane, but a mental one. The two psychics were engaged in telepathic combat, each of them refusing to let the other gain any ground within the recess of their mind. Sei had let the voices control him for too long. These voices that belonged to Anita and Kyla Orlouge would fall today. There would be no more random statements, no more berating of the Dragon of Drantrak. In these moments, Sei would once again earn all of the titles once bestowed upon him.

Of course, once Kyla Orlouge joined the fray, looking a bit drained from her earlier encounter, the tide of the battle shifted. The older girl looked to Anita, and then to her father with a sinister grin painting her features.

"You won't win this day, Sei."

Kyla's statement was true, there was no way that the Mystic had enough power to stop both of the girls he had trained in the psychic arts by himself. The mute closed his eyes and blocked his mind from every thought, a trick he had learned in his youth. Of course, this also meant that Sei could not reach out to his daughters either. He could not plead with them to yield, but he never truly expected them to.

"What is h---" Anita's words were cut short by the blur of gray and orange that slammed into her body, sending her flying on top of Kyla. Sei managed to land on his feet, shaking the hand that had found a temporary home in the jaw of his little girl. Anita and Kyla both rose, the former spitting out a tooth from the now bloody jaw she called a mouth. The crimson essence of the girl dripped to the floor, causing a small echo to vibrate through the halls of the castle.

The eyes of both girls narrowed, they were trying with all their psychic might to stop Sei from physically attacking them. Their plan would fall short, as the Avatar of Alerar started glowing a deep blue, originating from his center, until it covered his whole form. He had saved this technique for an emergency, if all else looked like it would fail. He had longed to use this particular spell on Xsenjen, but he never got close enough to the evil doer to ever try it. Sei would have to use his ace in the hole upon the two people he cared about the most.

"Is that...?" Kyla's question trailed off. They had heard of this move, but never thought Sei was courageous enough to use it.

"I-I-I think so," Anita spoke, her stammer an indication of her fear, "H-He won't use it. It will kill him too! The war will be over if Sei Orlouge dies!"

"The war was over long ago," Sei finally spoke, appearing directly in front of his family members and wrapping them both in a tight embrace. "Likewise, Sei Orlouge has been dead for years. I am a man with nothing to lose, nowhere to go home to, and all the time in the world before me..."

At this point, both Orlouge girls began to glow like their father, though Anita's hue was a bright red, whereas Kyla's was a bright green. In order to survive this technique, the spell caster would have had to have four targets lined up, or the remaining elements would unleash their fury upon him. It was a sacrifice that had to be done. The only thing left to do was speak his goodbyes.

"Kyla," Sei said, a hint of sorrow in his 'tone'. The girl looked to her father, bottom lip quivering. "I am sorry I trained Akiv to be a warrior, sorry that he was claimed so young during our war. I loved him like he was my son." Sei looked down to the girl's arms, small cuts starting to tear through her skin. "You're love for your son turned to envy of me. That envy is represented in the harsh winds tearing at you from the inside. I don't blame you for hating me. I still had my little girls, while you lost your child. If I could take it all back, I would. I forgive you for hating me Kyla. I am so sorry."

Sei's eyes began to well up with tears. He was unsure of whether this had to do with his impending death, or his apologies. His blue orbs now focused on Anita. His body was quivering in sadness, and he feared he would lose his grip. Anita, ever contrast to Kyla, was shaking her head no to her papa, begging him silently not to do this.

"Though your path was not the one I intended for you, I am proud of you. You fought for what you believed in. You fought for it with all your heart. Your fiery hatred of me is now taking form within your body. Anita. I love you and your sister so much." Sei began to breathe heavy, watching as more and more beads of sweat trickled down Anita's face. "I don't have much time to tell you this, so let me make my actions speak louder than words." Sei leaned in to each girl, placing his lips on the forehead of Anita, and then Kyla.

"I love you," Sei closed his eyes, unsure if he could finish the incantation for the spell.

"Do it..." Kyla whispered, blue blood trickling out of her mouth as she spoke. Anita turned her head to her sister, and then back to her father, once again shaking her head with fervor. "We deserve it, Daddy....finish it."

Her words were weak, but her resolve was strong. Sei nodded and stepped back, closing his eyes and two steady streams of tears rolled down his cheeks and on to the floor.

"Love. Hate. Sex. Pain!"

At the words, a violent torrent of wind ripped out of Kyla's body, blades of wind blowing harmlessly past Sei and Anita while the pieces that were left of Kyla Orlouge hit their forms. Sei looked into the eyes of his terrified daughter one more time. One of them had been ready for death, the other had not. Kyla accepted her fate, and Anita was fighting hers until the end, but it was too late. The blue blood of Kyla Orlouge poured down his features, the wind that blew up from within her causing the liquid to be unnaturally cool to the skin.

Anita mouthed the words 'I love you', before he body combusted into fire. The raw stench of burning hair and flesh filled the area quickly, and people would soon be around to investigate. Anita flailed back and forth, dropping to the ground and rolling in an attempt to put the fires out. Her screams were silent, her death slow. Those who were not ready were tortured to death by the spell of Love, Hate, Sex, Pain. Sei had expected his child to be stronger, and it pained him that his expectations fell short. Within a few seconds, Anita Orlouge had stopped moving, and the flames began to consume what was left of her body.

Sei closed his eyes, amazed that he still had some time left before the water and earth portions of the spell took him. Then again, the Mystic had only had intercourse once, to conceive Kyla with Ryoki Nishoba, so his sense of lust would naturally come slower. He also did not revel in the pain of others, so his death at the hands of the pain portion of the spell was also slowed. This gave the mute time to say goodbye to the two most important people left in his life.

"Azza, if you can hear this, know that I am no more. When this is over, there are some books under by bed. Gospels, I have called them, written in tribute to several of my generals. Take them, learn them. You are the future of this world Azza. You will pave the way for the next generation. Though you detested me for not being strong enough to save the orphanage, know that I loved you as if you had been an Orlouge all along." As Sei finished his last words to the orphan, he coughed, his eyes taking note of the water that left his orifice. He also felt himself getting heavier, and found it hard to breathe. He had to make this last one short.

"Jensen, no matter what happens, no matter what the alternate Sei may have told you, you are my best friend. Now go kill that bastard."

With these words, Sei entered a coughing fit, water spilling out of his mouth as if his lungs were a well. He fell to the ground, cringing in pain at the rocks that were starting to form within his organs, grinding into his intestines, adding their own mixture of blue blood to the once clear water the telepath was all but vomiting out now . Turning to look up at the ceiling, Sei mustered up the strength to do one last thing; He smiled.

And there, among the corpses of his family and coated with the Mystic blood of himself and Kyla, Sei Orlouge died.

[KOA]

Victoria moved quickly, listening to the battle between Sei and his daughters. She wondered to herself just what it meant for a father to stand with hostility before kin. Just to kill her husband was a tremendous force of will that taxed her soul, but to kill her son as well? That was an unpleasant thought she decided to push away to the furthest recesses of her mind. Instead she focused on the task at hand, steeling her nerves and preparing to do battle with the Praetorian.

She had no need to look far, for he was where she usually found the void being; standing before the window looking out over the Crimson Gulch, a bemused leer upon his black face. His yellow eyes glowed softly, as if a mischievous spirit inhabited them. He made no gesture to Victoria to show him he noticed her presence, his arms resting like behind the small of his back on a servants pose. Victoria drew up her breath and stood fifteen paces from him, eyes cast with icy hatred.

"Once," Broxsam said after a few moments of silence, the shadows amplifying his speech to contort them around her as if thousands of voices spoke in a gibbering chorus. He still made no move towards her as he glanced outwards. Despite herself she felt compelled to observe out the window. The darkness enveloped the land like a blanket, and the creatures of the Void seemed to be disturbed as they all cried into the night. Their howling reached the castle windows, shaking them as Victoria turned back to Broxsam.

"Once," He repeated again turning his gaze to the woman for the first time. "You were once the frigid Ice Queen of the Apocalypse. Your very skill in the arts of ice was approaching legendary status. When you killed, your face mirrored the element you represented. A cold efficiency with a lack of care for anything. Your heart was wrapped in frost, your mind was calculating, patient. Your favorite type of death was slowly ensnaring your foe in layers of ice, watching them suffocate in their prison."

"A reason why you wish to visit this aspect of my past?" Victoria sneered at Broxsam, hands curling into white fists. The void praetorian fashioned a cruel smile as he softly turned to her, his gait steady as he began to pace on the furthest reaches of the throne room. One hand lifted to the long windows as if showing off the Void creatures like they were caged animals.

"There is a kinship in that old lifestyle and the Void. As you had felt, we enjoy the colder aspects of efficiency. Just the simple, quick change of life to death. Also, Like you did, we abhor the light. While nothing to cause us detriment, we do not like the way it feels. Like a minor irritant, a fly. The sunrise is the most annoying part of a day for the void. It makes us uncomfortable."

"What, if anything at all, is the point of all this?" Victoria asked as she turned he head to keep her eyes upon the void being.

"That once, long ago, we had great interest in you. You had a capacity to kill that was only rivaled by Lord Xsenjen and Lady Remi. You had, at one point, been a candidate to achieve our goals. But something changed about you. Your heart thawed, your icy nature thinned to puddles of water. You became useless to our cause, for you had lost your conviction."

"You mean I fell in love." Victoria spoke with finality as she allowed herself a small smile. Broxsam merely shook his head like a teacher.

"No, the void itself feeds off of passion just as much as desire. I prove this in the form of your mentor, Lady Remi. She has such passion for the Void, but she was too...aware, of what drinking deeply can do to a soul. She was also a sad loss to the voids plans. No, there is something that you gained. For humanity, it may as well be essential, but for the Void it is rather useless. I do not deny its strange abilities or impact on the human soul, but for the Void it is simply put, garbage."

"Ah, now I get it," Victoria mused. Broxsam looked to her with a malicious smile, his eyes narrowing upon her like a snake. She looked back to him, her neck straining to keep him in sight. There was another pause, a moment in time, silence between them both.

In a split second Broxsam brought one clenched fist forwards, the void burning up his body like inky flames as a strip of the fire flew at Victoria. In the same moment, she twirled to face him, both hands moving fluidly as she created a black water like wall before her. The two forces collided with a cascade of energy, pooling around both warrior's feet as they ran at each other. Victoria dropped herself into a low stance, sliding forwards like she were on ice, whirling her hands around her teasing the Void into the shape of a whip. She cracked it outwards, trying to ensnare the Praetorian. He coupled the void around his arm to create a long sword, using the weapon to push her whip aside with ease as he vaulted over her. When they met their eyes flashed equal disdain as both warrior's passed.

Victoria spun to reface the Void being, thrusting her hands to her side and shaking the void off her white dress like one would shed skin. Broxsam twirled to look at her, standing before Xsenjen's throne like a tyrant. Victoria wrenched on hand up and let the inky waters of the Void shroud her hand, bringing it up in to her chest as it formed a shield. Her other other hand came down like she was holding a hammer, striking the Void with a powerful grunt of exertion creating a rippling effect in the pool of Void taint. Spikes the size of humans came upwards in a cascading fashion, three at a time as one traveled upwards pushing the other two back.

Broxsam brought one hand forwards in an open palm, his finger splayed as he narrowed his sights on the coming void energy. When the spike was near he turned, bringing the energy of the Void to him as he spun letting his hands move as if he was spinning imaginary plates, the spikes moving in a circle around him and launching back at the lady warrior. He leapt upwards, bringing his foot down in a roundhouse kick, adding width to the spikes as several more sprouted, accelerating the rate at which they moved.

Victoria merely raised her shield to defend herself, being his hard by the power of the impact and nearly losing all her footing as she slid on the watery Void taint, the last spike being shoved aside as she let out a violent predatory yell of defiance. Her shield liquified as it splashed to the ground next to her, black droplets of Void taint still touching her body as she looked to Broxsam. Here she was breathing heavily, and the Praetorian looked as if he had just woken up.

"Hope is such a feeble, meaningless tool! It brakes like a fine glass, shattering into millions of pieces! Even if one were to repair the damage, it would be un-whole, never to reach perfection again!" Broxsam lifted his hands upwards and the Void created a tidal wave that he sent crashing towards Victoria. All she could do was whip her hands quickly in a circle, creating a bubble around her as the Void swept down upon her like a tsunami, drenching her in the Void.

"Well," Victoria said with a huff of exertion, bringing her body up to her regal height. "Sometimes that is all we have." She looked to Broxsam, realizing that single battle would not warrant her any gain. She lifted her hands up and down again, ridding herself of the droplets of Void taint that clung to her like beads of sweat, looking to Broxsam with a bemused smile. She closed her eyes and slowly concentrated, a black veil draping behind her seven meters in length. There came a predatory growl, a wet leopard like noise as thousands of yellow eyes peered out and looked to Broxsam as one from the backdrop. The Void Praetorian looked to the Titan as it placed two giant sized fists to either side of its master, roaring so loudly the glass of the throne room exploded outwards. With a slight chuckle Broxsam lifted his hands up, before with great fanfare he clapped slowly to the beast.

"I nearly forgot you had a titan under your control! I am impressed, for it wasn't until you brought against Kyla I knew of it. But," Broxsam paused for effect, a dark leer that ate away at Victoria. "This is exactly why hope is useless!" He spoke in a roar of defiance, the shadows growling in a primal, throaty way. Only the Void creature had spoke those words, and slowly the shadows all crept along the walls forming behind their master as something cast a dad ominous portent over the throne room behind Victoria. Her Titan let out a protective grumble, hunching lower over his charge like a dog.

Behind Broxsam the shadows created another equally large beast, their combined girth making both have to crouch to fit inside the throne rooms vast size. It had six feet shaped like daggers that dug into the cobblestone of the castle floor, two giant humanoid hands flexed each digit with sinister intent. Jeweled red eyes glared upon Victoria's Titan as the two made challenging calls to the other. Outside a manatee like wail heralded the sky Titan as it circled the throne room, clawing to gain a grip on the side of the castle parapets.

"Watch your hope die with you, Victoria." Broxsam whispered as he sent forth his two beasts. The sky Titan let out another shriek as it poked it's head into the throne room, belching black void taint upon the ground that rose up in the shape of Soldiers, each one gibbering forwards in a swarm at Victoria. With a massive backhand the guardian of the Lady smashed aside the smaller beasts, but his exposed flank left him open as the insect like Titan of Broxsam grabbed the beast by the side and slammed it down towards the sky titan.

Victoria did not sit idly by as she glared at Broxsam, a howling wind circling her body as the Void being glanced to her with a studious eye. He looked at Victoria with a wide grin as he spoke again to her.

"Really now, clinging to old relics of your past?" Victoria said nothing as she emotionlessly brought one hand upwards, and from the pooling void another element burst through. Ice lifted upwards surrounding her in a prison of glaciers, their peaks like jagged spears as it impaled the two titans and caused the sky Titan to uproot and take flight, wailing in anger. The two Titans gripped each other as the shards impaled them, the creaking growth of glass snapping filling the air as the temperature dropped. Behind Victoria she watched as the sun rose, casting brilliant illuminations within the chamber as it bounced throughout the throne room making it appear as the sun itself.

Broxsam snarled as the two Titans crashed out the window, plummeting to the depths below in a deadly vice grip around the others throat. Victoria turned to the Void being with contempt.

"I will refuse to give up my hope, Broxsam. I have sent my legacy to meet with my old mentor, and the world is coming to stop you! They will bring with them the hope of a new tomorrow, a hope to end this madness!"

"How many times must I say it?" Broxsam spat, his words echoing in the glacier labyrinth. Victoria could not trace which direction he was coming from as he spoke, his anger clear as day as it echoed from a thousand voices.

"The only hope your planet has is the hope I give it. I let Vladimir go to the Hag Queen, I let him travel in the void! Do you think me so ignorant not to be aware of your plans? I allowed you to bring the world to my final hour so I can snuff all the hope out in one stroke like a candle! Once and for all! No more dreams, no more ambitions, no..." Victoria turned to the throne where she thought she saw movement.

"...More..." Behind her she felt something grow out of pool of void at her feet, and an icy hand ripped through her flesh and grabbed her spine, twisting it with a vicious snap echoing in the air. She howled out in agony as her body jerked before going limp, blood dribbling down the side of her lips as she looked up to Broxsam. Ink like Void taint burned up his body again, creating a flame like sword. With one motion Victoria screamed no more.

"Hope." With the death of Victoria her glacier walls collapsed like melting snow, the water down pouring out of the throne room's massive hole created by the fallen Titans. Broxsam looked to the dead body with an uncaring, cold stare. There was not even the smallest bit of remorse, nor satisfaction in his yellow eyes. Just an empty, soulless look that hid any feelings he had once-so-ever. With the last piece removed he turned to the sunrise and let out a wet, predatory growl before heading out.

[Sheex]

Guy Deltin moved his katana about so gracefully, most people swore it was not his sword, but rather an extension of his own body. The blade arced through the air swiftly, each deft movement was more a gust of wind than a sword stroke. The young man's skill was so sharp, he only practiced now out of habit. He seriously doubted he could improve, but it was so ingrained in his life, to skip a day seemed blasphemous.

The training hall was empty, not that it was ever really populated to begin with. Irenes only kept a small number of soldiers on stand-by, most were often out on patrols. However, as the world might very well end tomorrow, Guy's father had given most the soldiers leave to tend to their families. Only a skeleton crew remained in the very small mansion of Irenes that served as the focal point of leadership for the large city (meaning it was Sheex Deltin's home).

"I don't mean to lecture, but you really ought to be spending this night with your family, not here practicing your sword play. It's, ah, kind of a special night. The world's ending," Sheex said in a tone that was quite exhausted. Not only was his plate full with preparing to move several nations' worth of troops, but he still had numerous duties to attend to as the King of Irenes. The sun was probably already rising on the area where the final battle would be fought, and Sheex had wanted to at least spend the night before with his family. Unfortunately, he could not free himself of his duties until after midnight. Being a king sucked.

"Mom's mad at me," Guy whispered softly as he continued his kata. He wondered how long his dad had been watching him. Had he just arrived, or had he been there the entire time?

"Yes, I know. My ears are still ringing from the yelling I received when I came home. I suppose family dinner is out of the question, though it's mostly my fault for working so late," Sheex finished his statement with a yawn. Guy finished his kata and turned towards his father.

"I'm twenty-five years old now. I'm old enough to make my own decisions," Guy said, more to himself than to Sheex.

"I agree. I started making my own decisions at eighteen years old. May I recommend not sleeping with a governor's wife? It's ah, not good for your health." Sheex chuckled a bit at the fond memory, Guy simply frowned.

"I'm the best swordsman I know. Better than all the other nations' leaders, stronger than their greatest warriors in every way. I'm smarter, faster, stronger. I have never lost a duel, whether for fun or for real." Sheex's eyes grew very narrow as his son finished his statement.

"Been dueling have you?"

"Well, maybe not for real," Guy admitted. "But I'm still the best I know."

"Best I know as well, and that's saying something. Congratulations my son, you've come very far," Sheex said sincerely. Guy did not smile, but continued to keep his face very serious.

"If tomorrow will decide the fate of the world, then it is only logical that mankind commit everything they can."

"I seriously doubt such an argument has ever convinced a mother that it is okay for her only son to go to war," Sheex answered as he rubbed the bridge of his nose softly, trying to massage away a dull pain in his head. Guy said nothing for a few minutes, but then turned to face his father.

"I didn't mean to make her mad. I never wanted to upset her. But," Guy's lower lip trembled as he spoke, "but I cannot look away. This is my fight too!"

"I know. I know." Sheex raised his hands and motioned for Guy to calm down. "I'm not here to talk you out of it."

"You're not?" Guy's eyes widened. "I could have sworn that Mom would have-"

"She did. But I can already tell it would be a futile effort, I can see it in your eyes. You won't be persuaded otherwise; you are going to fight. I don't like letting Leila down, I don't like it at all, but you've already made up your mind. Anything I say would be useless." Guy coughed as Sheex finished speaking. The son had expected the father to forbid him from going to battle.

"I thought you'd be furious. I thought you'd be so upset that-"

"And who says I'm not?" Sheex let out a soft chuckle. "I don't like the idea of my son going to war anymore than your mother does."

"But you'll be there too! It's not fair to not let me go!" Guy shouted back. "You‘re going, so why can‘t I?"

"Bit different for me. I'll be in the back, helping move troops about. Or was that what you were planning on doing? I might not be upset if that was the case." Guy shook his head. He intend to fight, not to lead. He would be another one of the troops his father moved about.

"I thought not," Sheex let out a sigh. "I am upset with you, but I am also...proud. I am proud of my son. Very, very, very proud."

The king of Irenes then walked over, and embraced the small boy who had grown into such a great man.

"You...you are?" Guy asked in a voice hardly above a whisper.

"Indeed I am. Not a day goes by that I don't smile at the man you've become. I don't want you to go, but at the same time, I know as a man why you have to," Sheex chuckled a bit as he scratched his head. "It's one heck of a dilemma! I'll tell you that!"

"I'll come back," Guy whispered as he hugged his dad. "I swear I will. No shadow will stop me from coming home."

"I know," Sheex answered as he held his son tight. "Because Deltin's always keep their promises."

"That we do Dad." A tear trickled from Sheex's eye as his son spoke. Guy turned his head away awkwardly. "So don't worry about me."

"It’s a father's job is to worry. You'll find that out when you become one," Sheex smiled as he released his son. "Still, if you're going to war, I don't think it's out of line for me to make one request. Consider it a gift, or maybe an advancement on your inheritance. Or better yet, a little something to ensure you keep your promise."

"What is it?" Guy asked maybe a bit too eagerly. Grown though he was, he still loved getting presents from his father (then again, most people did).

"Do me a favor, and strike that training dummy there," Sheex said as he pointed down the hall. Two dummies were set up there, each in full plate armor. "Take it down any way you can."

Not sure of what was going on, but having complete faith in the man who raised him, Guy walked towards the dummy. With a deep breath, he lifted his katana, and gripped it with both hands. Sheex's eyes narrowed; Guy usually only used one hand when wielding his sword. Gripping it with both hands only meant one thing.

"Judgment," Guy whispered softly. His sword glowed a faint blue. "Retribution!"

The attack was so fast that even a great swordsman would have trouble tracking it. As Sheex was far from a great swordsman, he missed most of it. Still, he knew enough about the attack to know what happened. The armor was heavily dented, but not pierced. Sheex then lifted the arms of one of the dummy.

"Retribution. Nine attacks, each targeting a different vital point, right?" Sheex asked as he checked the dummies right arm pit. A fatal blow was there, it would have easily killed any human had it connected.

"Yes. Even if eight of the nine attacks miss, as long as one connects, I win. Anyone on the receiving end of my attack will either be dead, or too crippled to continue the fight," Guy explained for his father. Sheex nodded, closed his eyes, and walked over to a nearby table.

"If you can attack nine times at once, you can defend nine times at once. Still, I don't know of any man or woman who could stand up against it. But, you're not going up against men or women, but rather creatures of shadow. I know you’ve studied them, and I'm sure your attack will defeat most of them, but I want you to have this anyway," Sheex finished his statement and walked over to a small case he had laid on a table earlier. He unlocked the wooden case, and withdrew a sword.

"This is my sword. Caladbolg," Sheex said softly as he held the blade in his hands. He gently traced his fingers around the sheath where the sword slumbered.

"I didn't know you had a sword," Guy whispered as he walked over to his dad. Sheex let out another chuckle.

"Well, if anyone asks you, I don't. I suppose I'll be blunt; this sword shouldn't exist." Sheex walked over towards the remaining training dummy. His son followed.

"It's a violation of almost every trade agreement there is. The finest ore from Emprea, forged in the furnaces of Black Isle, where the fires burn hotter than anywhere else. Crafted by a master smith of Carthage." Sheex gripped the hilt of the blade.

"It's made of Orichalcum, the strongest metal. The raw ore is so temperamental, I had to buy a special case just to ship the stuff. I've enchanted the weapon with two spells. From Revan, a spell to hide the wielder from the void. As long as the sword remains in the sheath, shadows cannot detect you, at least until you attack them. From Benzer, a spell to enhance the blades effectiveness. And, from Irenes, I had the sheathe carved from the cherry tree from our old house." Sheex gently stroked the sheathe, for all the blade's power, to him the sheathe was clearly the most important part.

"Benzer has mages?" Guy questioned. He could not help but wonder what the sword was like.

"Yeah. Troy keeps his cards close to his chest, but Benzer has some powerful mages. I had to call in a pretty big favor, but it was worth it." Sheex gripped the sword, and drew it from its sheathe. The color of gold, Caladbolg shinned with an unworldly light.

"This is my sword. This light shines brightest for me, for the spell from Benzer calls upon the faith placed in he who bares this sword. It will not shine brighter for Troy, nor Karel, nor Lucifer, nor Viola, nor Jared, nor anyone else. The faith that the people of Irenes have in me is unmatched in all the world." Sheex twirled the blade about expertly. If he could do that, then what Guy could do with the blade would be unreal.

"And, if I were to place my faith in you, how brightly would this blade shine?" Sheex asked as he gripped the sword with both hands, and raised it before him. "An oath sworn upon my sword is always upheld. Swear to me you will return, and I will let you wield Caladbolg." Guy gently placed his hand on the blade, it shined ever brighter.

"I swear I'll come home," Guy said softly. Sheex smiled at him.

"Good," His father turned to face the remaining training dummy. "Now watch closely. I can only show you this attack once. You must learn it in one go."

"What? That's not exactly the easiest thing to do!" Guy exclaimed with no small amount of surprise in his voice. "Why can't you show me it more than once?"

"Because I should not be able to do this," Sheex narrowed his gaze. "This attack is well beyond my limits, but I don't think it is beyond yours. You have to learn it in one go, because I don't dare do this again. Are you ready?"

Guy nodded. There wasn't much else he could do.

"Okay. Here goes," Sheex whispered. Caladbolg was wreathed in golden light as Sheex raised it in a stance similar to the one Guy had used earlier. With a shout, Sheex charged forth.

"Caladbolg! Nine Lives Cut!" Sheex screamed at the top of his lungs. A brilliant flash seemed to set the very room on fire; Guy almost tore his gaze away, the light was so bright. But, he could not do so, for he had made a promise. And, almost more than that, his father's attack was incredible.

"AMAZING!" Guy screamed as he ran over to inspect the ruins of the training dummy. It had been completely annihilated, and the young man had seen everything.

"I saw it! I saw it! It wasn't just nine strikes! It was nine kills! I’m not sure how it works, but each attack was a ‘kill’ in and of itself! The second you swung that sword, you had killed that dummy nine times! Talk about overkill! I thought I was good, but damn Dad! You put me to shame! Maybe we should call you the Saint of Swords, eh?" Guy smiled as he turned to congratulate his father, but the sight there struck the young man to his very core.

Sheex Deltin is crying. Tears are streaming down his cheeks. Guy does not know what to say or what to do, his father crying is something he will never grow accustom to. It has happened before, and it will happen again, but it is something Guy will never be able to come to terms with.

"I lost something," Sheex moans. He drops his sword to the floor, the golden light faded away. "I lost something important! I want it back! Give it back!"

He clutches his hands to his chest. Desperately, he searches through his memories, trying to find what is not there. It cannot be reclaimed; he has thrown it away.

"What was it? Why can't I find it?" Sheex turns towards his son; there's fear in the father's eyes. "It's gone, isn't it?"

He quickly begins to name off the things most important to him; he doesn't want to let anything else go.

"I have to remember! I remember Leila, she's my wife. I love her more than life itself! I remember Nami. She's my little girl. She calls me Daddy, she used to love sitting on my lap! She crawled into bed with me when she was young, she was so scared of the dark! I remember Guy, he's such a great boy. He's the Saint of Swords, but he's still my son! I love him so much! I love them all so much! I...I...WHAT DID I LOSE?"

He falls to the floor, and begins to angrily punch the ground. He recalls his name, he recalls his family, he recalls his home. He can recall many things, but he cannot recall what is missing, because it is gone forever.

A slender hand wraps itself around his neck. He feels the familiar feeling of a body pressed against his. He knows who it is without even looking; he knows every inch of the person behind him.

"You look upset. Did you lose something?" Leila Deltin whispers softly into his ear. Her voice is sweet and gentle. He wraps his hands around her arms; he doesn't want to let anything else go.

"This one was important!" Sheex gasps. "I can't remember what it was, but I know it wasn't something I should have lost!"

Leila turns him around so she can look at him. His face is red from crying; she smiles at him brightly.

"If it's important, we'll just have to find it, won't we?" She says as she holds him close. She will never let him go, in this world, or in any other.

"But it's gone," Sheex moans one last time. "It's gone. I'll never find it, because it's gone!"

"Was it really important?" Leila asks of him. He nods sadly. She grins, and kisses him on the cheek. She leans in close, and whispers words of sweet solace into his ear.

"Then, I'll share mine with you. Whatever you lost, I will give to you from me. We'll share it together, whatever it was." He begins to calm down, the sweet and gentle voice of the woman he loves calls him back from the abyss. "After all, it's better to share the important things, right?"

"That's what Daddy taught me!" Another voice cries out. A woman with strawberry blonde hair walks over to Guy. She is about twenty-two years old, and her smile is brighter than even Caladbolg's holy radiance. "We have to share the important things, because the important things are better if shared with the ones you love!"

"I...that's exactly right Nami!" Guy yells, and he races over to his father. "Whatever you lost, I'll make up for too!"

With helping hands, Sheex is raised from the floor. He looks around the room, and sees three faces smiling at him. Whatever he has lost is certainly worth it, for the three people he loves the most are still smiling. Sheex closes his eyes, and remembers why he has sacrificed that very important thing.

"Then, let us all swear." The Father slowly picks up his sword, it glows brightly in response to his touch. "If even one of you was to leave me, I'd be completely lost. So swear that whatever comes tomorrow, we will all come home."

"I swear I'll be a good girl!" The Daughter whispers as she wraps her arms around her daddy. "I'll listen to everything you say, so I can come home with you!"

"I swear I'll be a good son," The Son says. "I won't let anything stop me. This will be the first war I fight in, but it will not be the last time I see my family."

"And I swear to be by your side, now and forever. Regardless of life, regardless of death, regardless of whatever world we are in. I will always be by your side," Swears the Mother as she holds the man she loves tightly.

"So be it," Sheex finishes as Caladbolg flared brightly in response to his grip. “We cannot be apart, so let us all go together. From now, until the end of time, where one goes we all follow. I swear I’ll see this through, and return to this spot, with all of those I hold dear.”

Embracing tightly those they hold dear, there is only two possible outcomes to tomorrow's battle. Either they will all come back together, or no one will come back at all. But, as his family holds him tight, Sheex Deltin remembers one thing.

That which was most important, that thing he would never sacrifice, is still right there with him.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

At long last the morning came. All around the world was swirling movement, a palpable tension that flew upon the breeze. From the Nation of Black Isle, to the swampy, undead lands of Revan, to the spiraling towers of Benzer’s trade houses, to the darkest pits of the Carthage forts, the winds of change were billowing.

Long, screeching wails of a whistle pierced the veil, the Technocracy of the Brotherhood of Steele awakening to the day with a defiant gesture as hundreds of ships took the sky, their numbers blotting out the rising sun. Several trumpets and steam work engines releasing pressure created a symphony of chaos and noise that sent birds flying by the dozen. One ship, longer than all the others stood out like a bird in a fog of gnats, an airship so large that it ran the length of a mile and could be spotted by people in the surrounding nations. It let out a blast from its massive war horns, a trumpet like wail that shunted into the darkness as a herald the the Machiavelli, Flagship and crown jewel of the Technocracy, was flying to war.

In Emprea there was a howling of cheers, the people of the land waving off their loyal soldiers. A statue of the unnamed berserker king, the first in the history of the land that stood against the demons in the demon wars, stood as sentinel over the marching army. Viola Conda lifted her Halberd up and tapped the tip against the statues shin, followed by her heroes of Emprea who did like wise their axes, swords, and bows. Every soldier lifted a weapon up and tapped it against the statue as they marched into the Cloud of Darkness, the Irenes smugglers aiding them as they led them safely to the Crimson Gulch.

Black clouds belched into the sky of Carthage, the steady march of thousands of warriors moving in a phalanx. Seige engines rolled outwards, their crude, simplistic designs hiding none of their ill intent. War chariots galloped to the sides of the forces, all faces solemnly looking forwards with a military presicion that was unrivaled. There was no peasantry to see off the Blood stained kingdom, no traditions to uphold as Lucifer Blight rode upon a gallant black stallion at the head of a warhost that could only be described as Legion. If anyone in Carthage had reservations about the coming battle, they dared not show it.

In Revan a lone airship rose up from the battle ramparts of Lavinya, a solitary cage the size of a small house lifting up behind it with chains as something inside wailed with a terrible cry of agony and rage that the even the undead stirred away. Baroness Sarah Dahlios looked to the cage that she towed on the Lavinyan Pride with a sorrowful eye, as Jared stood behind her with a cocky grin as he pulled a lever blaring a war horn signaling that Revan was on the way.

The Ixian Knights of Apocalypse wore their cobalt blue uniforms with pride as they lifted up several banners from their fallen houses, the ratty and tattled fabric blowing in the wind. Eyes showed no hint of fear as axes were sharpened, quivers loaded with fresh arrows. Generals approached forwards to the Clouds of Darkness to discuss the strategy with the Irenes Smugglers, Emprean communication orbs being passed to them each. The orphan army awoke with a silent understanding, friends sticking close to each other as Coyo and Azza glanced to the other with a respectful nod. They both walked through the Cloud of Darkness, the sound of hundreds of feet stomping behind them. Felicity and Aislinn were dressed in war gear as well, a rapier and a long sword in Felicty’s hand, a two bladed stave in Aislinn’s. They stood behind Azza and Coyo as they marched, grim faces of determination on their features.

Inside the Crimson Gulch there was a stain in the land that was red, red with the blood that had run for hours in droves. The terrain had no life to it, skeletons of the past still casting out ill portents of warning for those who were arriving. At the Castle Ragnarok, bastion of the Apocalypse and home to the Void Lord Xsenjen, the ruler of the darkness looked out to the coming armies with a lack of care. His eyes scanned the terrain, before he lifted up one hand like a tyrant, finger lazily pointing to the mouth of the gulch.

A cry of animal fury pierced the air as a million times a million throats bellowed as one. Throaty challenges and the beat of wings, the stomping of feet that marched forwards quaked the earth as the Titans ponderously advanced. The Sky Titans rose to the heavens and their leathery wings beat in a chorus of madness, their numbers blocking out all source of light. Clouds of grey storm color blocked out the sun as the wind continued to howl in the canyon ways, the sky titans moving out to do battle with the approaching air fleet.

The ground was like a living carpet, soldiers moving in countless numbers, Astartes darting and weaving between the feet of the Titans as the Legionnaires merely took high positions or risen rocks to perch as they waited for prey. Long, stalky Void creatures marched with the legions, a twisted, gnarled staff of pure obsidian in their hands as they directed the lesser hordes of creatures. Custode magi of the Void began to weave their dark craft in the air, drawing forth Clouds of Darkness from the Shroud of Shadows. From the Void more minions burst forth, creating a horde of bodies that was impossible to give thought to.

From the opposite side of the Crimson Gulch the Clouds of darkness burst with colors, stark contrast to the inky black of the creatures. Banners of every nation proudly lifted upwards as the forces of the world arrived on the battlefield. War horns of Carthage began to bellow out orders to the troops as Emprean teams began to set up bolt throwers and arrange the artillery of the other nations. Several airships, modified to carry hundreds of troops descended from the sky and landed, Benzer soldiers rushing out as one ornalty crafted vessel landed towards the rear of the forces where Emprean engineers worked with Carthage engineers under the command of Lord Trabant to build the command tent.

The gibbering horde of the Void paused, shouting in their tongue curses and challenges to the world that defied them. They smelled the hope of the world, and they wished to extinguish it. Titans began to pound the earth around them in impatience as the standoff began. The soldiers crawled over each other in anticipation, the Astartes and Custodes flexing in barely contained fury. The Legionnaires looked to the armies with a bemused grin, a low predatory growl of one on the hunt escaping their lips.

In the castle, Broxsam slowly stepped up behind Xsenjen, an unconscious body in his hand that he dragged by his collar. His coat had the arms ripped off, and his hair was messy as he dreamed in the coldness of his mind. Xsenjen looked to the body of Jensen Ambrose, the hope of the world, and smiled as he cupped the man’s face. He lifted one hand up to his side in a grand offering, curling his fingers as he focused upon the Shroud of Shadows in the sky. The ground trembled all around the world, a quaking that caused tsunamis and destroyed homes. The earth itself ripped as Xsenjen closed his eyes, bringing his other hand up to aid in his concentration. He gripped his digits into a tight fist, pulling invisible chords with all his might as sweat and blood dribbled from his face.

Blue, green veins of pure energy tore through the surface of the world. They rose from the oceans, the ground itself, and reached upwards into the heavens where it pierced into the Shroud of Shadows. There was thirty in their number, the life stream of the Void, the essence of chaos itself. It impaled the shroud and glowed from the faint blue to a dark purple, the energy pulsing like a writhing tendril as the Void began to draw power from the darkness in the sky. Xsenjen opened his eyes, wiping his face clear of the blood as he turned with a dark smile, looking as Jensen weakly shook himself away.

“You are just in time, Jensen Ambrose,” Xsenjen spoke with a cruel chuckle. “You will see the death of the world!”

Jensen woozily looked out to see the Shroud of Shadows expand as the cloud grew bigger, a dark rain the color of a soulless black falling from the Void. The Echoes screamed with a primal joy, relishing in the power of the Void as the horde grew in number. From the puddles slowly building on the ground came tiny void creatures, the Clouds of Darkness expanding as it soaked up the rain.

Broxsam lifted one hand forwards, his eyes casting with pure mischief as he wrenched his hand back upon itself. One of the tendrils of the life stream curved itself until it stood before the castle throne room where the hole was, and Xsenjen turned to Jensen offering his hand out like a prophet.

“We are close, Jensen, to the end. Mortarion’s Gate is beyond the veil. Let the world die, for where we are going is eternal life.”

“Your crazy,” Jensen muttered, his voice scratchy as he looked to Xsenjen.

“Oh, when you see what I orchestrated then perhaps, Jensen Ambrose, you will come to understand my ways.”

Before Jensen could retaliate he was forcibly pushed into the Lifestream, where he screamed out from a pain that he couldn’t describe, nor ever would feel again. His soul was invaded as the darkness forcibly entered his body, choking his heart in a death grip as he moved upwards into the unknown.

[Disillusioned]

"Sheex!" Troy bellowed over the roar of airships. Hundreds were landing in what could have only been a planned sequence; they moved too in sync otherwise. As Troy crossed the field, dressed in a fine general's outfit crafted from the hall's of the greatest tailor in Benzer, he eyed his friend.

Dressed in his usual attire (a simple outfit with a long white coat), the king of Irenes motioned for another airship to land at a specified spot. As soon as he had seen to that matter, Sheex turned to face his friend.

"Good to see you Troy!" Sheex yelled across the noise.

"And you my friend!" The two shook hands eagerly; neither was smiling. Still, no friendship was lost between the men. "How is everything?"

"Outside of the fact that the world is ending? Pretty good I guess!" Sheex held up numerous papers to shield his eyes from the constant dirt being tossed up by the numerous airships. "Come with me!"

Weaving his way through numerous troops, Sheex escorted Troy through the largest army that had ever been assembled. Every nation, from small to large, was giving their all to face the darkness; thousands of men and woman staked everything on the next few hours of their collective lives. Sheex led the way through the field until the two men reached the largest tent among dozens of others. Troy entered as his friend held the tent flap open for him.

"Commander!" He heard numerous voices shout. He also one squeaky voice shout something else entirely, and he turned to this voice first of all.

"Hiya Troy!" Noel squeaked loudly as she waved happily to her husband. He favored her with a smile.

"Hello Noel," Troy whispered softly. He heard a female chuckle from the side.

"Is that how it's done in Benzer? Sheesh, how boring! How 'bout some Irenes spice? We'll sell it to you cheap!" Leila Deltin said with a grin as she walked straight up to her husband, who had just entered the tent, a planted a long and luscious kiss on his lips. The two entwined their bodies as they kissed passionately.

"I'd pay full price," Noel muttered under her breath. Troy grinned, and kissed her.

"How cute," Viola Conda muttered from the side. "It's as if they don't even care that a war is about to start."

"Sounds like someone's upset!" Noel squeaked with glee as she finished her kiss with Troy.

"She's just jealous because her man's nowhere in sight!" Leila threw in after she had finished her kiss. Of course it took her a little while longer, as Sheex and Leila had continued to kiss passionately for at least a good minute more.

"Paul is out on the front, doing his duty to his country. I would not have it any other way," Viola spat as she crossed her arms. She seemed sulky.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Sheex shot back as he walked over to a small chair near the back. The command tent was divided into a few sections, and Sheex had claimed a small space for himself. A table was set up there, and it was there that Nami sat patiently.

"How you holding up kiddo?" Sheex asked his daughter as he gently gripped her shoulder. She smiled brightly.

"Just fine Daddy!" Was her quick reply.

"You brought your daughter?" Troy asked softly as Sheex walked over to him.

"Didn't have a choice in the matter. Same with my son," Sheex answered back.

"I know. Sorry about that, but I've ordered him to be kept near the rear at the very least. He shouldn't see too much fighting," Troy whispered softly.

"Good luck with that," His friend said. The characteristic smile that Sheex always had was nowhere to be seen.

"In any case, how is everything?" Troy asked as he turned his attention to the matter at hand. A sly voice chuckled from the background, and he turned to see Trabant leaning casually against one of the wooden beams that held the tent up.

"Oh? Are you sure that you don't want to spend a few more minutes with your family? I don't mind," The man said with a slick grinned. Troy's eyes narrowed in on the Carthage advisor.

"I'm fine," Troy muttered coldly.

"And I'm being serious," Trabant responded coolly as he gently ran his pale hand through his long, oily black hair. "This may very well be the last time you see your loved ones again. I think that, all things being considered, another minute will not harm us."

Troy thought for a moment, and then turned his attention to Noel. Sheex didn't even bother to wait; instantly he was at his family's side.

"I'm surprised at you," Viola whispered to her long-time enemy, who stood coolly by her side. She swept her hand about, pointing to the families that had obviously no merit in battle whatsoever. "I thought all this would be against everything Carthage stood for."

"Oh? You mean the whole bringing families to the field, kissing them, and wasting time holding hands instead of strategizing? It very much is," Trabant answered without removing his eyes from the people Viola had pointed at. There, for but the fleetest of moments, a sense of longing crossed the pale man's face. "Still, this occasion affords special circumstances."

He shot a grin at Viola.

"The world is ending, after all."

"I suppose that does count as extraneous circumstances," She answered back. A minute or two later, Troy appeared before them, and signaled that he was ready to proceed.

"To begin with, King Deltin has done an admiral job," Viola began as she walked towards a large table placed in the center of the tent. One large map was placed there, filled with colored pieces. Each nation had their own color, different pieces assigned to different troop types. The void too, color black, was placed upon the map.

"Almost ninety-five percent of our ground forces have arrived as scheduled. This is, to be honest, far better than we have hoped for." Viola nodded to Trabant; the man took over immediately.

"We have deployed our forces as we have discussed. Carthage and Emprean foot soldiers will make up the bulk of our front line. Standard formation, nothing fancy. Archers in the rear, Revan soldiers have been sent ahead as skirmiskers to disrupt the enemy lines; we are holding our cavalry mostly in reserve." Troy nodded in agreement. This allowed the cavalry freedom of movement, and they could be sent where needed at a moment's notice. It was a strategy often used by Prince Lucifer, and Troy saw no need to change it. Speaking of that particular man, Troy turned to Trabant.

"Is Lucifer-" He didn't manage to finish.

"He has already gone ahead. He will lead from the front, as we have discussed," Was all Trabant said.

"I know we said so, and I know Carthage would never back down, but it seems a bit unfair. All other delegation members are safe in airships, or here with me. It seems unfair to ask Carthage alone to send their leader, and heir to the throne, to the most dangerous spot," Troy finished with a small frown. Simply put, if the man wanted out, it seemed only right for Troy to offer it. No one else, from Benzer to Emprea, had wanted the task of leading from the front. Trabant only answered with a shrug.

"What will you? It is his way." And that statement decidedly ended any talk of falling back. After all, everyone there could just see the prince laughing at them from atop his horse, grinning wildly, and saying, "What's wrong? I, the man who lives only for himself, have chosen to fight. How can you all, with your loved ones to protect, possibly think to flee?"

"So be it. We are committed. How are we set for communications?" Troy asked as he surveyed the map before him.

"Rather well actually," Trabant held up a blue orb. "This is an Emprean communication orb, and it quite an ingenious device. Care to elaborate Viola?"

"Certainly. We have distributed one to each unit commander, as well as to numerous special forces. All you simply have to do is thumb the orb," She demonstrated; a blue hue instantly flared to life within the glass object, "And you will be able to converse with the desired unit. We've set up a table just for that over here, just give the order and we can connect you to anyone you desire."

Troy nodded to the numerous men and women who worked at that table; they would no doubt play a key role in the upcoming battle. They would have to filter out all the noise and garbage of battle, and relay only what was needed. Each man and woman saluted him in the Emprean manner, and he returned the salute in the crisp, Benzer style.

"Very well. I noticed that you said earlier that all our ground forces have arrived. I take it that means there's a problem with the air?" Troy muttered softly. Nothing ever went according to plan.

"If by problem you mean that they haven't shown up at all, then yes, we do have a problem," Trabant began to leaf through several papers before him. Troy turned to Sheex, who only shrugged back.

"Don't blame me Troy, he's your brother-in-law. I moved the people like I said I would; Karel's airships are his own deal. I gave him the necessary tools to move through the clouds, but beyond that..." Sheex left the statement unfinished. Troy muttered a few choice words under his breath, ending with something along the lines of "that blasted fool of a Princeps always has to make a grand entrance."

"Here it is," Trabant held up a paper. "Reports from Black Isle state that they were attacked en route by Echoes. They will be here as soon as possible."

"That's it?" Troy asked with raised eyebrows. He had been banking on Black Isle's air fleet to deal with the mammoth-sized titans that were very much beyond a normal human's ability.

"No, I could go on if you like." Trabant made a face; he wasn't used to Troy's command style. Lucifer simply asked what happened, and then made his judgment based on that info. It seemed more efficient to Trabant, but he did not voice this opinion. "Fighters report an engagement involving multiple sky titans. Unknown number of enemies, position unknown, estimated time until arrival...unknown."

That was why Trabant didn't bother to relay the information. Basically, it was a whole lot of "sorry I'm late, be there when I can."

"Simply wonderful. Sheex, any chance you can locate him?"

"I'll give it a shot, but don't get your hopes up."

"They are your routes King Deltin."

"And hey, all my smugglers made it through. I suppose that's the difference between a smuggler and a soldier. My guys just run from those things; ten to one odds Karel picked a fight with 'em."

"No bet," Noel muttered under her breath.

"No airships then." Troy gently ran a hand through his dark brown hair. "A very large whole in our plan. What does Lucifer think?"

Trabant, with a smirk, held up an orb.

"Ask him, if you like, but I will attempt to save you some time. He simply does not enjoy giving up."

"Quite. There's little point to pulling out now, airships or no. We'll just have to come up with a way to deal with the titans without them for the moment," Viola walked over towards a nearby table, and began to flip through numerous papers. She handed a few to Trabant, who took them with a polite nod of appreciation.

"Besides Troy, you think we'll have a chance like this again?" Sheex asked with a raised hand. Troy eyed his friend.

"You mean to save the world?"

"Not that, technically it's happened twice already. I meant having Carthage and Emprea work together! Seriously, we blow this chance, and I don't think we'll have another one!" Sheex joked, but his face was sorely lacking in a comedic expression. Still, all eyes did turn to Viola and Trabant, who were at this moment working hand in hand on coming up with a way to revise their strategy. They suddenly stopped working, as if they too had no idea such a thing was even possible, and looked at one another.

"I could...ah...say something about her little friend Paul if you like?" Trabant offered to the assembled nations. "Something along the lines of her obvious favoritism in appointing a raging lunatic that just happens to share her bed to a command position. Would that help?"

"I'd appreciate it," Sheex muttered.

"It would, you know, help get things in the mood. Feels kinda off otherwise," Leila agreed.

"Yeah. That whole friendship thing is just...creepy. Like, the way Regal is friends with Nami creepy," Noel added in.

"Regal's nice!" Nami chirped. She then lowered her voice. "But...now that I think about it...I can definitely see where everyone's coming from..."

"I have spent so many hours tearing you two apart from each others throats, I would be remiss to lose what could very well be my last chance," Troy finished with what could have passed for a joke, considering the moment.

Viola looked at Trabant, who looked to her.

"I concur with the majority. Insult me Trabant; it's just not the same without it."

"Very well. Tell me something Viola. It is quite obvious that in the heat of the moment, Paul Donovan has neither control of himself nor of his men. Is it the same in bed? Can he not...control his men there? Do they...fall in line, or simply run amuck like they do in battle? Directionless, leaderless, and utterly useless. Totally and completely incapable of...finishing what they start." Trabant finished his statement with a satisfying grin. Everyone let out a good, much needed laugh.

"I'll have you know-" Viola began.

"No, Viola, you will not. The mental image would scar us all for life," Troy countered before she even finished.

"Yeah. If you intend to continue down this road, Nami has to cover her ears," Noel chirped with a laugh. Viola raised her eyebrows to that remark.

"Oh? My mistake, she seems to be more of a woman than you. She's certainly more...developed in certain areas, to be sure," Viola stated with raised eyebrows. Noel's lower lip trembled, Leila stifled a chuckle, Troy looked at Nami, Nami hesitated for a moment, and then slowly nodded her head in agreement.

"AND THE WORLD IS ENDING!" Sheex shouted at the top of his lungs. "All units forward!"

"I believe that is my line Sheex," Troy chided his friend.

"Oh? Cause I was gonna fill in, seeing as how everyone was busy comparing my daughter's breast size to Noel's, but on second thought I'll play too. Let's rank 'em babe! Largest at the top!" Sheex turned to his wife.

"No contest!" Leila laughed. "Rebecca wins! I mean, if I was a dude, I would totally Troy's sister and-"

"The world's ending. All units forward!" Troy ordered through the communication orb he picked up.

"Let's go save the world!"

[orphans]

“Somehow, this is less exciting than I thought it would be,” Azza managed to mumble as she shifted the giant of a blade on the pauldron of her armor, both newly reworked for the young woman. Her shoulder blades still had a dull ache from the previous night’s ritual, but the lack of wings was certainly more convenient.

“You mean the waiting or the end of the world?” Even now, Coyo still managed to crack a smirk to his friend as he thumbed a belt full of fresh knives. Daggers and knives were strapped everywhere while one of his hands hefted a short spear.

Casting an eye at him, Azza decided not to comment on which and instead just ran her eyes over his assorted weapons. “Do you just plan to throw everything at them, Coyo?”

“Well gee… as bad as this may sound, but I’m sure I’ll find something someone dropped to use.” A few of those from their home camp gave dark chuckles at the comment, Azza included. They were all equally aware of their survival chance, and no one cared.

Looking to the head of the column, they could all see the figure of Lucifer Blight leading them, and while there was difference of opinions about him, they could all agree than the man was made of much stronger stuff than most of them. None of them wanted to be in the front of the charge through a land drenched in blood with only white bones to break the monotony of crimson.

And just across the way, everyone could plainly see the swelling numbers of the Void. There would be no confusion of who was on whose side, even in a battle of this magnitude. It would be simply those who were living against the tides of darkness, waiting to swallow their hopes and crush their last stand of defiance.

“Those titans are much bigger up close, huh?” Coyo managed with his eyes widening while his hand gripped the spear tighter in his hand. “Any ideas how to kill it?”

“Pummel the hell out of it, I guess.”

“Oh yeah! Silly me, I must have forgotten. An’ we just have to do that a few dozen times, right?”

It was Azza’s turn to grin at her friend, “Yup, that’s all we have to do.” With a chuckle, she shifted her sword again in anticipation. “At least being near the front means I won’t have to be as careful swinging this.”

Felicity’s chiding voice hissed at the both of them, “If you two love birds are quite finished, something is about to happen.”

But before Coyo could respond, the powerful voice of Lucifer rang out with the single command they had all been both waiting and eager for, “All units, FORWARD.”

A war cry of approval rang through the ranks as soldiers of every banner surged forward. In response, screeching and guttural roars blasted through the thousands upon tens of thousands of void creatures. All of the creatures were more eager than the next to rend something fleshy apart as they charged towards the final confrontation.

The red clay and dirt of the barren land rose in a fine red haze as both armies charged, crushing bones beneath their feet and upon their weapon of choice the moment they collided and in that single instant, blood curdling screams of dying soldiers and void creatures filled the air in a chaotic symphony.

And before soldier could swing their weapon a second time, hail storms of arrows and magic bolts rained upon the creatures of the void, and likewise, grotesque spells that warped the living from the inside, arced from the hands of the Custode magi of the void, sending dozens of men to a gruesome end in a single wave of their hand.

None of this mattered to the survivors, however. Either this would be their final resting place, or there would be none at all if Xsenjen was to achieve his goal. Against all odds, they fought and for a single moment the tides of darkness reeled back with notches carved in deep.

Heads, bodies and limbs of the lesser void soldiers were sheered away with each swing from Azza. Felicity and Aislinn on the other hand, slung their spells in a complex unison that only sisters could ever hope to achieve shattering void creatures while empowering the soldiers near themselves.

Paul Donovan and his pack of berserkers tore into the void with all of the ferocity befitting them of their namesake, causing chaos and destruction whenever they stood. So much so, that Paul Donovan had the honor if being the first to be charged by an Astatres. Unaware of the threat until the last second, he swung his axe just into to deflect one grisly claw. But Astatres have two hands and as the second closed the distance between it and Paul’s face; a single dagger sang through the air and pierced the creature’s eye. It reared and roared in both rage and pain, giving Paul enough room to cleave its head off and quiet the beast. Another two daggers twirled past Paul, each decorating the head of a smaller soldier.

With the brief second of breathing room, Paul cast a quick eye back to see Coyo throwing nearly every usable weapon within reach into the hoards of advancing creatures. Daggers only flew on occasion when deadly precision was needed.

But despite their combined determination and illusions of hope, the mortal lines were being slowly pushed back one step at a time, boiling the blood of the young Azza. No matter how many a single swing of her blade managed to fell, three more would take its place. There was no safe moment for any respite, but she was sure that the others were feeling the same as her. “How the hell are we supposed to break through this shit if we can’t even push back the small ones!?”

The only answer came in the form of death cry from a man beside her, overwhelmed by the sheer numbers. Despite that, the nameless soldier managed to gut one last creature with a boot dagger before his body disappeared beneath the still advancing void.

Just a few steps away from Azza’s group, Paul Donovan and his berserkers were having just as much trouble as the rest of the frontlines and soon, the two found themselves nearly back to back as the battle lines collapsed against them. “Well this plan was fucking brilliant!”

“If you have enough breath to say something, keep swinging!” was all that Paul managed to reply with as he cleaved through one of the larger Legionnaire.

With yell of her own, Azza bowled a couple of smaller void creatures aside with the backswing of her blade. “Can’t we call for reinforcement?” A loud clang sounded in her air as the woman blocked the claws of another Legionnaire with the flat of her two-hander.

For a few seconds, Paul didn’t reply with anything besides grunts of his own as he fended off his own incoming issues. Then, with a sharp whistle, he rallied what remained of his men to give him breathing room. With a deft movement of his hand, he thumbed the communication orb quickly and muttered with regret, “Send help. Things don’t look good.” A scream from Azza made Paul drop the orb, just in time to see a shadowy bolt crushing into her left shoulder, opening her to the Legionnaire. “Bastard!!” Hefting his axe overhead, he brought it crashing through the head of the beast ready to tear into the woman.

Dragging herself up quickly with her wounded arm now being useless, Azza grabbed onto the nearest sword. She decided in that instant that it was too small and launched it into the crowd advancing at them and pulled up a larger sword that could still be swung with one arm. “Thanks for that. I’ll try not to have you carry me back again.”

“Just don’t have me saving you become a habit.”

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen floated in the darkness in crippling pain, his chest constricting as a pounding headache beat behind his eyes like a bass drum. The Lifestream was a curious sensation he doubted he could fully rationalize without being an outside observer. It was as if so many events were taking place at once, but at the same time were curiously not. He could feel the ebb and flow of the world, and it felt as if it was holding its breath. He imagined that this was what death must have been like, and if even a fraction of this eternal feeling were a fact of what death awaits one then he was grateful he could not die.*

The darkness, (for what other way could he describe it), did not just exist, but washed over him, pushing him upwards like a flower petal on a stream. He could not thrash his arms to prevent the motion, he could do nothing to hold back the tide. The more he resisted the worse his pains felt, and even if he complied the pain would not fade.*

When Jensen felt he could take no more of this hell he was thrust out of the Lifestream like a bear done with a meal, his body tumbling un-eloquently upon a surface that had no right to support him. Wisps of the Void whirled around his body, echoing calls of fury and primal hatred whispering to him. He felt his fingers touch nothing solid and he panicked, thinking he would slip into the Void again. Yet he did not sink, he merely floated upon the cloud of ash grey, his eyes wide with a feeling he had not felt in quite a long time.*

Jensen Ambrose felt an overwhelming grip of fear tingle down his spine.*

Jensen's eyes took in everything around him, a surreal feeling as he gawked at the sights he saw. He shakily stood, knees uncomfortable with his brain not registering a solid base to stand upon. He looked to what he supposed was the sky, blue lines of electricity illuminating the softly lit area. It was like he was inside a storm cloud, or the eye of a tornado, the one safe sanctuary within the Shroud of Shadows. He looked forwards where he saw a sight that made his eyes blink, his hands rubbing them to see if what he was witnessing was truly there.*

A wrought iron gate the height of a skyscraper pierced through the void, dwarfing the immortal in sheer size. Each pillar that made up the gate was wrapped with deathly colored roses, their thorns the color of black gems as they glinted when the lightening struck. The front of the gate was ornately crafted to resemble the gates of a cemetery, two statues holding the lock in one hand each. The left statue was a specter of death, a grim robed figure that looked down with a leering skeletal smile. The right statue was a masterfully crafted angel, her hair long flowing, wings that curled behind her upwards in a ready position like a noble falcon. The lock itself was made of a grey, earth black color fashioned into a keyhole that one would find in less civilized prisons. Chains draped from the necks of both statues, each link rusted with the age of eternity.*

"It's wondrous, is it not?" A voice spoke with a soft reverence. Jensen turned to find Xsenjen standing behind him, two paces away. Broxsam gazed upon the gate as well, though his feelings seemed masked as the man stood just behind his lord. Slowly Xsenjen stepped forwards, the clouds swirling at his feet like silent heralds.*

"At last, Mortarion's gate is mine!" He whispered enthusiastically, gesturing his arms out in supplication as he approached the statues. "All that is death, all that has passed lies beyond this portal. A thousand times a thousand could have been universes shattered by one choice! One insignificant decision that altered a million possibilities congregated behind the locks of this gate. The infiniteness of death, the immortality of time itself. Mortarion's gate! And now I have it within reach." Xsenjen stood before the doors, turning to loom at Jensen with a sick smile as he pointed to the knight excitedly.*

"I have you to thank, Jensen, for allowing me to be here. If you had not stumbled upon our world, our reality, we would not have the key to open Mortarion's Gate."*

"What in the names of all four horsemen is wrong with your head," Jensen muttered loudly. "What key? What the hell are you saying?" Jensen felt his choler rise as he looked to Xsenjen with a dark glare. "I got millions of questions and not a single damn answer, now tell me why the hell I'm even in this shithole of a reality!" Xsenjen chuckled, a sickening, cruel mirthful sound as he shrugged his shoulders ever so gently.*

"I suppose there is absolutely nothing wrong with telling you like it is. You see, for me to enter Mortarion's Gate, the key must be revealed in this world. In order to forge that key we needed to pull a strong spirit from another reality, where the key resided undisturbed. That key is residing undisturbed within you, Jensen Ambrose. So I ripped you from your home into my realm, and..." Xsenjen lifted his hands to his side, waiting patiently as he looked at the spot between them.*

In front of Xsenjen and Jensen, squarely between them both rose a shape from the darkness eerily like an oversized key made from the same iron and mirroring the same style as Mortarion's Gate. It was wicked looking and yet also elegant in the same instance, and when it rose to reveal itself it clattered on the cloud before Jensen.*

"...Ta-Da." Xsenjen mused arrogantly, his right hand urging Jensen to hold the key.

Awkwardly he lifted his hands to the key, gripping the head around a leather hold that seemed to warm to his touch. The statues, once quiet and sentinel, rotated their heads and looked right at the immortal.*

"It resonates with you, Jensen Ambrose. The Winds of death have for the first time noticed your existence. You have brought the eyes of the reaper and the angel of death to gaze upon you." Xsenjen spoke like an occult priest, his body a flurry of motions as Broxsam looked to Jensen with a mischievous smile like a cat watching an unwary mouse.*

The two statues looked to Jensen with eyes that cast judgment, like they were for the first time seeing him. He gulped to feel their gaze upon his soul and he gripped the key tightly. The statues waited forever it felt like, an eternity of all his deaths slowly stirring before the silent guardians of death. Slowly their free hands rose to remove the chain from their collars and lower the keyhole.*

"So long have I waited for this day, a day to end my painful memories!" Xsenjen turned to Jensen, his eyes boring a hole through the immortal. Jensen gave him an uncomfortable look back. "Open it!" He ordered.*

"Why the fuck would I do that asshole?" Jensen barked. "Last I checked you sent your dog after me, knocked me out for a week, then wake me up to drag me to this nightmare funhouse, and if there is one thing about Cassandra Remi I learned from my world, it's that she never bluffs! So when she says you want to destroy the world, well, I actually believe her." Jensen pulled the key to his side like an axe, drawing his throwing knife and holding it like a parrying dagger. "So I don't think that I'll be opening that gate."*

Xsenjen let out a low growl, his eyes narrowing like a tiger finding prey. He took a moment to gaze upon Jensen, as if debating how swiftly he wanted to crush the immortal.

"Open the door, Jensen Ambrose, my patience is already taxed!" The immortal only moved into a rigid stance as his reply. "I do not need you alive to use the key, whatever notions you have of being the hero is foolish! Just open the damn gate!"*

"Yeah, like I'd give into your demands! I won't screw over the world just to appease your emotional problems! You want this key?" Jensen held it over his head. "Come and get it tough guy!"*

Broxsam at last moved, his body moving as if he was being carried by the wind. His feet never even broke into a stride, eyes looking to Jensen with primal hatred. Yet before he could strike Xsenjen lifted a hand up to stop his Praetorian. He fixed his jacket in irritation as he let his hands rest to his side.*

"Rue this day Jensen Ambrose, this is the day you will finally die!" Xsenjen spoke in spite as he summoned the void to his fingertips, creating long claw like talons. Jensen looked to the Void Lord and let of a wild laugh as he rushed forwards.*

[Disillusioned]

"Paul requests aid!"

"Route what remains of the reserves there."

"Our siege weapons are gone."

"Expected. They were the only things we had that could possibly counter the titans without Karel's airships; no small wonder they were hit the hardest. Evacuation?"

"Went of without a hitch. Most men made it out fine."

"Left flank is in dire need of reinforcements!"

"Send the siege forces there. I assume they are capable of fighting hand-to-hand?"

"All of Carthage is capable of fighting, my General."

"Naturally. Any word on Karel?"

"Nadda. I'll keep trying."

"Right flank falling!"

"Send the cavalry in there. Now. Aim for the rear of the enemies forces; distract them. Regroup the right flank in the mean time, while the enemy suspects an attack from the rear."

"Roger!"

"Center has a titan!"

"Fall back. Move the center to the rear."

"The titan-"

"Send the Saint of Swords. Tell him the titan must fall."

"Guy Deltin acknowledges the order, and is moving forward."

It wasn't enough. No matter how fast he plugged the holes, another one simply took its place. Even the best minds of all five nations (scratch that, four nations. Karel was still running late) could not overcome an enemy that had nigh infinite troops.

"You can't send Guy up against a-" Leila began to complain. Sheex gently placed a loving hand on his wife's shoulder.

"It's fine. Guy will be fine," he whispered softly to his beloved wife.

"But-" Leila‘s face rang of pain; Sheex tightened his grip.

"We can't complain. Everyone else out there has a parent, we can't ask for special treatment."

"But he's my son!"

"I know. I know." Leila burst into tears as Sheex tenderly stroked her cheek. Troy wanted to beg forgiveness for his order, but he could do no such thing. As the commander of this operation, he had to make the best choice he could, and the only ace he had left up his sleeve was Leila's son. Gods, he really hated this.

"My lord!" One of the communication officers began. The man was interrupted by a loud voice.

"No time for that!" A man with brilliant red hair shouted as he marched through the command tent, brusquely shoving aside anyone who tried to bar his path.

"Hector," Troy muttered softly. He recognized the man instantly; an old childhood friend and his personal bodyguard. If he was here, then nothing good was afoot.

"The center is gone Troy. Not routed, not broken, gone." The brute of the man called Hector (he was easily the most muscular out everyone in the tent) swore as he wiped the sweat of his brow. "The echoes are on their way here; we have to go! ! NOW!"

Without waiting for an answer, Hector grabbed Troy by the arm and made to lead him away. Everyone looked to the commander, awaiting his order. Troy himself was at a lost for words. Was it over so quickly? Was that small, near insignificant amount of time, all that the forces of mankind had to offer?

"I..." Troy began. What was he to do? All eyes were on him.

"My king!" Another voice rang out; this time a female. A woman dressed in light armor, carrying a bow and arrow, ran into the tent. She took no notice of Troy or Viola or Trabant, or anyone else for that matter. She marched straight up to the only king she would bend a knee to: King Deltin of Irenes.

"Emi? I thought I told you to look after my son?" Sheex muttered in low breath.

"You did, and I have, not that it was an efficient order. The man whom I was suppose to 'look after' saved my life five times. He sends a message as well; Guy will not abandon the fight. He will rally what troops he can, but he asks that his family move to a safe area. He will join you soon enough." Straight to the point; Emi had always been that way. At least the girl had a pretty smile, not that Sheex would ever say so in front of his wife. She was also Sheex Deltin's most loyal soldier, and a very dear friend.

"You have a way out?" Troy asked his friend. Sheex just shrugged.

"I always have a way out Troy," Sheex almost spat, "I've at least three airships on stand-by. Anyone here can evacuate safely, should they desire."

Troy looked about the tent. So many faces, all waiting on his order. Should he flee, and save what lives he could? But to do so would mean abandoning each and every solider out there, fighting for their lives. Once more, he turned to the king of Irenes.

"Your family..." Troy motioned towards Sheex's wife and daughter. It was the daughter who responded.

"Oh, we can't go anywhere!" Nami chirped, shining brightly despite the darkness of the hour. "We're waiting for my brother! We made a promise, and we have to keep it!"

"Aye," Sheex said. "All together, or none at all. I'm not running."

"Me too," Leila whispered, "I'm not going to take one step backward!"

As soon as she finished her sentence, the girl named Emi gave a curt nod, and grabbed a nearby table. She dragged it before the Deltin family, and flipped it over to form a make-shift barrier. She then measured up the distance between her and the front of the tent, nodded in satisfaction, stuck what remaining arrows she had into the ground next to her.

"Hey! Babes!" Hector shouted. "What are you doing? Didn't you hear me? This place is about to be overrun!"

"I heard you; who didn't?" Emi muttered back as she checked her side; a short sword was strapped there. "I'm obeying an order. My king has decided to stay, so I am preparing defenses the best I can. Oh, and for the record, men who call me 'Babes' have to earn it."

Sheex gently poked Emi's side.

"Hey, have I earned it? I'm your king you know." Emi shrugged.

"Call me whatever you like. You're my friend," The girl grinned. "But I bet your life expectancy will be shortened by at least ten years."

"Why would you say tha-" Before he could finish his sentence, the King of Irenes was in a death grip.

"Hey! Hey!" Leila shouted as she shook Sheex. "I'm your Babe! No one else! If you like the whole warrior-woman thing, then I'll dress up too!"

"Gods no!" Sheex shouted in between strangles. "You're sexy just way you are! Normal! And not violent!"

Almost on cue, Leila kissed her husband's cheek. Troy smirked, and then addressed the soldiers in the tent.

"Anyone who wants to take King Deltin up on his offer may do so." Calmly and coolly, he touched the saber at his side. He slowly walked over to where Emi was, nodded to her, and took a place by the impromptu fortification of a table.

"Troy?" Noel ran over to her husband.

"You should go Noel. I will meet up with you later," Troy responded to the unasked question. Noel shook her head furiously.

"Nu-uh! They get to stay, I get to too!" Noel shouted as she leapt over the table to where Nami was. "I'll be right here, so do a good job of protecting me!"

"All Emprean soldiers are dismissed," Viola ordered as she hefted an aged halberd. She took her place beside Troy. "Shouldn't you draw that sword?"

"It's fine as is," Troy responded softly. "Trabant?"

"Oh please," Trabant shook his head, "so very melodramatic! You seem to have forgotten, my General, that there is nowhere to run! Even if we flee, we simply turn to ashes with the rest of the world!"

The strategist of Carthage let out a sinister chuckle, and walked over to the command table.

"So very heroic, you lot!" Trabant laughed as he took Troy's previous spot. "Oh, since you all have decided to fight, I'll just fill in the gaps our leadership. Now, where was that last request for reinforcements?"

The Empreans running the communication table gave him a look.

"They're not obligated to stay Trabant," Viola barked. "They can leave if they so desire."

"Nonsense!" Trabant dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "They made their decision the same time we all did! What soldier runs when a little girl stays? Men and women who have stood up time and again to the forces of Carthage are not such cowards!"

Instantly there was a buzz of activity. Some soldiers drew their weapons and joined the defenses, others went right on with their duties. Even if had some thought to flee, Trabant's words had convinced them otherwise. If Nami, a young woman who knew nothing of war, could sit there patiently waiting for her brother, then no soldier would dare be caught running. Hector let out a laugh.

"My kind of party Babes!" The man shouted as he gripped his large claymore, and took as spot by Troy (after slapping Emi on the shoulder). "I myself kinda dig the warrior-chick thing. Let me buy you a drink."

"Perhaps." Emi nocked an arrow on her bow. Viola gripped her halberd. Troy gently undid the top three buttons on his uniform. Sheex held his wife and daughter tightly.

"If, that is, you aren't ashamed of the fact I’ll be bragging to the entire bar about how I emasculated you in front of five nations. Oh, wait, Karel still hasn’t shown up yet, has he?”

A loud rumble was heard just outside of the tent.

“Best make that four nations,” Emi muttered as the tent’s flap burst opened, a stream of Echoes poured into the room. Ravenous and hungry, they went for the defenders. Bulks of teaming darkness tore through the room. Troy let out a cry as Emi’s arrow sped towards the lead Echo; Trabant’s calm voice continued to coolly give out orders in the background.

The arrow struck its mark perfectly; the Echo’s’ head jerked to the side as the body of the shadowy figure collapsed to the ground. Viola charged forth with her halberd held high; she spilt an Echo in half with a solid downward strike. Wielding his claymore, Hector began to take apart enemy after enemy. Troy let out a soft grunt, focused as best he could, and drew his sword. In one smooth motion his saber decapitated the nearest Echo.

“Ha ha ha ha ha!” Noel cheered, “you thought Troy was just a merchant! Ha ha ha!”

Ignoring his wife’s encouragement, as pleasant as it was, Troy twirled his blade amount. With smooth strokes he began to take apart each Echo that came at him, proving that the son of a wealthy merchant could very well hold his own in a fight. He saw Viola at his side knock a foe to the ground, and then drive her weapon into the figure’s heart. Emi rolled away, narrowly dodging a death blow. She quickly loaded her bow, fired it into the neck of a Echo, and then toss aside the spent weapon. Drawing a sword and dagger, she fought away two Echoes from the Deltin family. Nami cringed, Leila held her husband tight; both were terrified. Sheex was reaching for something at his hip.

Emi let out a sharp grunt of pain as she was tackled to the ground. Atop her a large Echo raised its hand, which was more akin to a vicious claw than an actual limb, and made to deal the final blow. Troy took two quick steps, and dispatched the Echo with a clean cut to the being’s throat. Emi gave him a grateful look.

“TROY! WATCH IT!” Hector bellowed as his sword took down two Echoes with one swing. Troy turned about to see a large Echo, its head nearly touching the top of the tent, charging at him. Hector was cutting his way towards his friend, but he would be just three seconds too late. Troy himself was caught in an awkward position, with his back towards the enemy. He whirled about to face his foe, knowing full well he would not have enough time. He heard Noel scream, and a clicking noise nearby.

He swung wildly at the Echo, but the beast just shouldered the blow with ease. The hulking monster struck Troy in the chest, doubling him over instantly. Noel was crying, someone was screaming; everything was going blurry. Viola shouted for someone to help Troy, but her words were drowned out amidst the cries of battle. Hector was cursing loudly, and Emi was reaching for her sword. A flutter of white passed over Troy’s eyes, and he heard a loud BANG!

Green energy spread before him in a tight formation, shaped much like small pellets. The pulsating energy moved at high speeds, and when it struck the Echo in its arm, the creature’s limb disintegrated. The beast let out a howl in an unworldly tongue, a howl that Troy would have sworn was a scream of pain. Standing before Troy, Sheex Deltin leveled a strange weapon at the Echo’s head.

In Sheex’s hand was an object of wood and steel. The hilt of the weapon had a trigger attached to it, and extending from the hilt were two short side-by-side barrels made of metal. Troy saw Sheex thumb a tiny hammer at the back of the weapon as the Echo let out a terrible cry. With eyes as dark as any of the beasts near him, Sheex pulled the trigger on his contraption.

Another loud noise roared through the tent, and more green pieces of energy flew from the barrel of Sheex’s weapon. The head of the Echo was blasted to pieces as the energy from the weapon ripped through the beast; no resistance of any kind. In one smooth motion, Sheex opened the two barrels with a flick of his free hand. A dark emerald gas of a foul-smelling nature rushed by Troy as Sheex removed two small cartridges from his gun. In an instant, he had the weapon reloaded, and he began to fire off rounds. Each and every Echo the man struck was instantly torn apart by the weapon’s fire.

“Everyone but Trabant and the three closest soldiers to him draw swords! FIGHT!” Troy ordered as he rolled to his feet. He heard a unanimous cry as swords were unsheathed, and the soldiers of mankind descended on their foe. Caught off guard by the sudden change, the Echoes were quickly slaughtered. Troy turned to his friend.

“What on Althanas is that?” Troy asked as he pointed to the object in Sheex’s hands. Coolly, and without looking at anyone, Sheex began to fiddle with the weapon.

“It’s an anti-Echo weapon. It combines Revan anti-Echo technology with a Benzer propulsion system. It’s a prototype; this thing isn’t ready for mass-production. Not for another few months at least. Pity. Could have made a fortune selling these things,” Sheex spoke more to himself than anyone in the room. With focused eyes he once more opened the barrels, the green gas engulfed him. Most people in the tent leaned in close out of curiosity.

“Careful,” Sheex warned, “the gas is pretty toxic. I was told each shot fired from this thing costs a month of your life. Plus it isn’t finished; we’ve had a few explode in testing.”

Everyone instantly recoiled from the man, Sheex simply stood there as the gas dissipated around him, almost as if his life should be shortened. Only one person moved to comfort the man. Walking to him, breathing in the same fumes that were guaranteed to short a life, Leila Deltin gently held her husband, and laid her head to rest on the man’s shoulder.

“Should I be surprised you have that?” Troy muttered as he pointed at the gun. “That was suppose to be top-secret.”

“Cost a pretty penny if that helps,” Sheex offered as he tossed aside two more spent cartridges. He reached into his white coat, and pulled out two more.

“I’m more surprised at the Revan part,” Viola threw out as she took a deep breath. “Didn’t Jared threaten to kill your wife? I thought you of all people would-”

“No,” Sheex answered coldly. “I cut any deal I can. One day he threatens to take all I love and cherish, and the very next day he offered me the power to protect the very same thing. I made a deal, as I always do. This surprises you?”

“I confess I am a bit stunned,” Trabant said off-handedly as he instructed several men to stand up and get back to work. “I thought that dealing with a person who threatened to kill your wife would be against your morals.”

“Wrong. I have no morals or principles.” Sheex fed the two cartridges in his hand into the barrels. He is not looking at anyone, not even his wife. He is focused solely on the weapon in his hands. He looks at neither his dear friend, his loyal soldier, his wonderful daughter, or his loving wife. “I made a vow to protect those dear to me; anything in service of that I simply do. Haven’t you heard the rhyme? It’s quite popular in at least three of your countries.

He slams the weapon back together angrily; metal makes a clicking noise. Sheex sang a haunting tune to himself.

Trickster prince, dressed in vlince.
Only the bravest dare, to make a fortune at his fair.
Flesh and gold, it’s all sold.
Mother went there, lost her hair.
Father was stern, but he paid in turn.
Sister so nice, sold to vice.
Brother be deft, you’re the only family you have left!
Trickster prince, in finest vlince.
Only a fool would dare to go to his fair.
Because when dealing in sin...

A distant rumbling. The soldiers turn toward the tents tattered entrance. More are coming. They’re almost here. The tent is so silent, the clicking noise from Sheex’s weapon is the only thing on anyone’s mind. With murderous eyes, and a face that was the summation a broken heart, Sheex levels the weapon at the encroaching darkness.

“The prince will always win!” Sheex finishes the rhyme. Echoes burst through the tents small opening. Troy lets out a cry as his soldiers charge forth. Sheex’s gun echoes in the background.

[Zantetsuken]

Serra felt the pull of the Nosferatu against her chest as it dived low through the portal of light in the sea of darkness. Her teeth were gritted as her one good eye narrowed in frustration. Cries of fury hounded her ship as it flew over the border lands of Emprea’s sea, still a good five hundred miles away from the Crimson Gulch. War horns blared back in defiant taps of trumpet like sound, ordering the surrounding ships to notify the others where they were. Unlike most airships, Serra’s bridge did not have a three hundred and sixty degree arc of vision, and thus she was limited to only what she had available. She cast her eyes to her communications officer, who was the only man trained to operate the Emprean Communication orbs. He was repeating the same message over and over, attempting to try anything to tell the forces of humanity that Black Isle had not abandoned them.

But the situation was also not so simple as swatting a couple flies out of their way. The Echoes were smarter than Serra Raven would have ever admitted, and they attacked the air fleet in the void. Inside the darkness Karel had ordered his fleet to attack, but in the dimly lit corridors of the Clouds of Darkness it was nigh impossible to see the targets. One volley from the fleet had slaughtered dozens of sky titans, but in the resultant blasts some airships reported hits, and two of the warships were blown apart or damaged to a point where they slowly fell to their deaths in infiniteness darkness. The beasts had known Black Isle could not see them so well, and they began to attack the ships relentlessly.

However, their cunning was still bestial, and they could be lured out into the open. N’Gash, the bodyguard of the man who knew of these trade routes had offered to personally lead the air fleet forwards to the battle. He explained that the Echoes could be lured outside into the open, where the air fleet could pick them off without fear of hitting their own ships. Serra approved the plan after talking it over with Karel, but the problem soon became apparent.

They were getting nowhere fast.

The Admiral of the Fleet chewed her lower lip as she felt the force of her ship bank hard to the left, before the cannons opened up and began to rake the side of a flying Sky Titan that had three heads. It screamed in pain, before turning to belch some void magic, but a solid cannon ball from a warship hit it square in the neck where the heads formed and severed it cleanly off.

“Open the air vents, let the cannons cool,” Serra ordered. “Open lines to the Princeps,” The communications officer nodded and looked to a few papers before he pressed a series of runes on a large orb. He lifted his thumb up to indicate the channel was open and Serra spoke clearly.

“My Princeps, we have a little problem.” Serra said calmly. “We’re already two hours late, and the enemy isn’t really giving us many options. Though this current strategy of hit and run is keeping the fleet so far intact, I have to insist we think of another.”

“I understand your concerns, but what good would arriving at the Crimson Gulch do us if we have no fleet?” Karel countered. She could imagine her brother leaning forwards in his command throne, hands on his knees as he wiped them in his face in a frustrating sigh. Serra could see half the massive Flagship in her viewport and she looked to the impressive brainchild of Fir.

“I do not want to waste lives either, but Karel, we’re two hours late. Any longer and we may as well just turn around.” Serra looked to the Cloud of Darkness they retreated out of, the warships long clear and blasting the last of the latest batch of Sky Titans. For now there was a lull. “You said it yourself,” Serra whispered softly. “We would not let Troy down…”

“I know…” Karel whispered back. “What is your suggestion, Fleet Admiral?” Karel spoke up this time, sounding a bit more official. Serra looked out her window towards the massive Shroud of Shadows, looking to the long flowing purple tendrils that crossed all of creation to be absorbed into its embrace. She thought of Troy and his wife Noel, of Viola and Emprean heroes all fighting, surrounded by tides of Void creatures. She could feel that they were all in danger, and the only way to alleviate that pressure was to arrive, and arrive fast. She nodded her head as she decided to go for it.

“My Princeps, I would order all ships back into the Cloud of Darkness, and this time we don’t leave until we reach Crimson Gulch!” There was a long silence as Karel debated this plan. He knew just as well as Serra did that many of their warships would most likely be torn to pieces by the Sky Titans in the Cloud of Darkness. With no way to see where they came from, plus the risk of hitting their own allies, the prospect was dangerous. She had just proposed a suicide run.

“So,” Karel chuckled darkly, a laugh that had no mirth but the dry humor of someone about to commit to a plan they wish not to do. “You propose we do a Black Isle Mile?” Serra, despite herself, grinned. It was an old, terrible joke. When the Echoes first invaded the Black Archipelago was swarming with Echoes. The Ixian warrior Talen Shadowalker had aided Serra in running towards her airship, but the ship was a full mile away. They were hounded by a Sky Titan that could vomit more echoes, and it was that beast whom caused Serra to lose an eye. Talen had sacrificed his life to save her, give her time to finish the last hurdle of the mile sprint to get to her airship. It was her silent joke that running a Black Isle Mile was running through the gates of hell itself.

“Yes, Karel.” She spoke with determination as she eyed the Shroud of Shadows with a baleful eye.

“The fleet is yours admiral,” Karel replied casually. Serra silently thanked her brother as she swirled in her command throne to the her soldiers and began to order them to build speed. The bridges tension seemed to raise as Serra prepared herself for her plan. She swiveled back to look to her communications officer and spoke swiftly.
“Patch me through to the entire fleet!” Serra ordered. There was a moment of tense waiting, before the communications officer nodded to her and spoke in clear, precise military fashion.

“All ships, Fleet Admiral Raven hailing.” He looked back to her and smiled. She nodded to him.

“ALL SHIPS!” Serra shouted loudly. “RAMMING SPEED! WE’RE GOING THROUGH THE CLOUD AGAIN AND WE ARE NOT COMING OUT UNTIL WE REACH CRIMSON GULCH! DO NOT STOP FOR ANY REASON!”

The Machiavelli blared its war horn forwards as the ship softly banked to turn towards the Cloud of Darkness. The warships took a long curving turn to build up speed as the Nosferatu plunged forwards towards the abyss. A host of Sky Titans flapped ominously inside the darkness.

I hope that Jensen fellow knows what he’s doing… She thought dully. She felt her ship lurch as it hit the wing of a Sky Titan and banked hard as it plowed through, the sound of claws scraping her hull ringing in her ears like nails on a chalk board.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Weapons clattered on the ground next to Jensen as he collapsed in a heap, Mortarion's gate key a full five feet from his fingers. Xsenjen stood aloft to the immortals side, eyes cast with disappointment as he lowered his body to scoop up the key. Lightening hissed in the air of this surreal universe, the stark blue colors slowly fading to black in the storm grey skyline.

"You fight about as badly as the world does," Xsenjen mumbled. "Can you now, perhaps, admit the futility of your defiance?"

Jensen felt his fingers curl into the wisps of the clouds he rested upon, the cool feeling inviting to his tired limbs. He feebly looked upwards as the man held the key over his shoulder, looking to the knight with a dissatisfied shake of his head.

"So long as we have hope," Jensen cursed lowly as he lifted himself upwards. Xsenjen narrowed his eyes, a look of pure disbelief on his face. He scowled in contemplation, before he lowered the key to his side and stretched his hand out before the distance between the two warriors. The clouds they walked upon swirled, slowly rolling away like storm clouds. The wind whipped at Jensen's hair and he lifted a hand before his face as he looked away.

"Look at your hope!" Xsenjen bellowed in rage. Jensen slowly stepped forwards and looked into the eye of the storm.

Several hundred feet below him he got the view only a god could enjoy. There before his trembling body was Crimson Gulch, the entire field of battle where the forces of humanity stood for their final battle. There was no sign of the mighty airships, and it seemed that the Void was numbering in the billions as they surrounded what he assumed was the last stand. Even from his distance he could see the black tide moving like ants. Xsenjen lifted his hand again and the view shimmered and rippled like a lake, a new view of the ground forces clear as if Jensen was there himself.

Azza was back to back with the Emprean hero David King, both swirling around the other as Azza's blade cleaved into dozens of skulls. David King's right hand was wrapped in a shroud of darkness, an eerie red glow emanating from the tips as he took out scores of the enemy with yells of exertion. *His other hand held a very un-impressive blade with no hilt guard, but where it hit scores of the enemy would perish. But no matter how many died, hundreds more took their place.

They were being surrounded by the enemy, nearly about to be overrun before a rush of cavalry stampeded forwards, brutally hacking away as they built breathing room. *With a hive like chattering the soldiers turned to the horses and advanced, jumping upwards into the air and pulling at the riders. A mighty prince or noble upon a black stallion was cast off his horse, the beast ripped apart as the Void scuttled to try and claim his life. The down prince roared with spite, his bastard sword swinging in an arc to keep the soldiers at bay. A wolf like howl pierced the veil, causing a slight pause in the Void as a massive axe cut trough the throng of warriors. Several berserkers jumped forwards like wolves protecting their master, the prince slowly rising warily as several creatures of the Void made way for a host of Legionnaires to challenge the Carthage prince, Azza, and the two heroes of Emprea David and Paul.

The conflict slowly rippled again and a new part of the war zone was shown.

This time he was watching as a Titan's hand lowered in a swat, felling dozens of Revan's Black Op teams. Screams of anguish filled the air as several black clothed bodies swirled in a deadly dance. Their weapons cast long red beams of light upon the Titan, and once they were locked on arrows flew into the beasts hide, hitting it in several spots that were critical locations. They moved in coordinated strikes, but the pure mass of bodies made it difficult to maneuver as soldiers of the Void jumped to bring them down. When one team set up another set of markers a legionnaire of the void leapt forwards, scythe like tail swinging in decapitating arcs as its dagger like claws claimed lives, dragging the Revan operatives to the ground where soldiers assaulted their fallen form.

An airship with the name Lavinian pride floated ominously forwards as the cage attached to the ship was released into the biggest pocket of enemy troops, the large shimmering silver steel howling with sorrow and anger as one. When it crashed several Void creatures were crushed beneath the heavy metal. More swarmed forwards, chittering in gibberish as they cried for blood. A low hiss with a small spark following a trail showed the signs of an impending explosion, and sure enough the four walled prison exploded as the walls shunted away the encroaching terror. The frame remained in tact, however, and attached to the frame of the cage was miles worth of chains. In the center of the cage was a solitary throne made of pure brass, and sitting, shackled like a prisoner was a man in a log white duster coat. His eyes were sunken and black, hair long and tattered. He slowly lifted his face up and Jensen's eyes went wide.

"Ah, so that's where they hid Baron Dahlios." Xsenjen smugly replied as Seth Dahlios looked to the battle and screeched violently, ripping himself free from the chains. The Void answered his call as several Titans changed to turn and face the Lavinian demon. Seth, now freed, lifted himself to his full height before charging forwards unsupported in the swarm of the Void.

Again the image shifted, and Jensen was inside what he thought was the command tent. Like every scene before him this was no different; the void was everywhere, clawing and gnashing their teeth as they surged forwards like a cancer.

He did not recognize anyone there, but he could tell by their outfits that they were the nations leaders. A woman screeched with rage as her halberd cleaved through an Astarte, her body covering a silk robbed man who moved and shouted orders without fear that the enemy was not but a few feet away. A noble looking man with a saber danced around with his blade, moving in tandem with a warrior who carried a giant claymore that created precious breathing room for a few desperate seconds. Behind them an exotic looking woman swiftly dispatched the enemy with her sword, and any creature who got too close to a barricade was blasted into nothingness by a gunshot from a terrible looking hand cannon. With all these skilled warriors it meant not a thing. The enemy was pushing forwards and Jensen could hear the roar of an approaching Titan.

The image slowly faded as the clouds rolled back in on themselves. The room returned back to its storm grey color as Xsenjen hotly began to rant.

"See what your hope is? Nothing!" He moved forwards towards Jensen. "Hope is just a tool to cope with weakness! There is nothing that they can do to stop the inevitable! Why bother even trying?"

Jensen thought about what he said, his bones weary. Perhaps the Void Lord had a point. Humanity was all but gone now, nothing but lambs to the slaughter. They did not have a prayer anymore. The force they were up against was too numerous, too eager to watch the world end. They had no spirit to break, nothing for their dreams to be dashed against. In the end, the Void had no hope, they lived only to crush it.

Jensen suddenly had a thought. "Why?" He asked. Xsenjen made no motion to answer as he looked to the immortal. Jensen asked again, "Why? Why did you throw away your hope?"

There was a long pause, a silence that created an eerie tension. The Void lord turned his head to the gate, before rotating his whole body. Broxsam looked to Xsenjen with curiosity as the Void lord let out a long sigh. "I never cast the hope away, it was ripped from me without hesitation!"

Xsenjen angrily swiped one hand to side as he lifted up his newly acquired key, eyes casting a deadly glow as wind began to blow around him. "I was never the one to put faith in hope, but one day I gave my every fiber to that concept!" Xsenjen shouted as he slowly began to approach the key hole. Each step he took made the twin statues gaze to him, the sound of stone turning as they watched the Void Lord. He stopped, mere feet the keyhole and looked to the gate with reverence.

"Several years ago I was on a mission," He spoke thoughtfully. "Salvar, near the fortress that once known as Death's Cradle," Jensen felt his body shiver as he looked to see Xsenjen shake his head as if the memories were a terrible burden. The immortal suddenly felt the weight of the jacket he was wearing like it was holding him forever down. Jensen's body began to shiver as his mind started to grow foggy.

"I was with my three friends, the only people I ever cared about. It was so cold," The Void Lord actually shivered. "That night we set camp, but in the morning,"

"They were dead..." Jensen whispered. Xsenjen let out a pained smile as he turned, his jacket whipping behind him.

"I cried for them to awake, I prayed and hoped they would rise again, but they were as still as the frost." Xsenjen turned half way to look at the gate. "I suddenly realized they would never rise again. I was devastated to have lost something so close to me. I could not speak, could not move. I became a golem, a soulless monster who began to take missions of the highest suicide rate. I wanted to be with them again, but I received orders to kill Cassandra Remi. It was she who showed me the truth of the Void."

He looked back fully to the keyhole now. "She told me I could summon the gates of death to me, and be with my friends once more. I pledged everything to that goal, and I found myself the perfect opportunity. Broxsam was born to aid me, and now all that I have strived for is coming to fruition. All I need to do now is open the gates and call my friends forth!"

Jensen watched in a paralyzed state the man lift the key to his shoulders like a samurai, before stabbing it in to the keyhole. With a grunt of effort he switched the key to turn, then stepped backwards. Mortarion's gate remained still as Broxsam watched, eyes alight with pleasure as he gripped his hands into claws. The world they were in shook, the keyhole rising as the two statues looked to it, before as one they turned and grasped the gnarled wrought iron gate and with titanic force they slowly began to open the portal to the realm of the dead. A blinding light cracked through the opening, making Broxsam shy away as Xsenjen lifted his arms out for a wide hug. A powerful gale force caused the Void Lord's jacket to ripple behind him, his eyes never faltering as he looked to the gates that opened wider.

"Now," He whispered. "At long last my friends, I call you forth! Come back to me!" Xsenjen looked onwards, tears in his eyes as he watched the gate fully open, and he spoke three names with such reverence like a lost lover returned to him.

"Denzel, Channele, Miguel, come back my friends! I've missed you so much..."

Jensen Ambrose felt his own heart lurch to hear those names, casting the last doubt in his mind of who Xsenjen was. He had realized he was looking at his own self in this world, his own duplicate. Xsenjen was Jensen Ambrose, and like he, had lost his hope when his friends died.

He stood up in a trance as he shuffled forwards like a zombie. He stood at the gate of death, peering inside while holding his breath. After so long he was about to see his friends again.

[Sheex]

This isn't a story; it's just a dream. A dream, reflected within the sheen of a golden sword.

Many days ago, there lived a happy man. He lived in a small town with his family; this family consisted of four people. The man himself, his wife, and their two children; a son and a daughter.

Everything the man could possibly want is in this town. He desires absolutely nothing, save to spend the rest of his days here. He wants no more adventures, he has had his fill of those. He desires neither money nor power, for both of those things always corrupt. What he wants, he knows he already has. Everything he could ever desire is right within arms reach.

Laughter. Smiles. Love. That is what his home is to him. That is what his family is to him. He's there, playing with his children. The daughter is laughing happily as she claps her hands, the son is chasing after the man as fast as he can. The young boy is playing tag, and he is trying very hard to catch up with his father. The boy's tiny hands stretch out towards the man's worn black coat; he can almost touch it. The man laughs happily, and dances away from the boy.

"Hey! Can you keep up with me?" The man taunts. The boy grits his teeth, and continues the chase. The wife emerges from the house, and waves to her husband. Everything stops, and the man looks to the woman. He smiles at her, and there is nothing more to the family than that man's smile. It is full of life and laughter, of kindness and joy, of hope and of love.

The man is very happy.

Times have changed. The world is dark and full of despair. That tiny town can no longer survive as is. Sleeping away in the corner of Althanas is not an option; that little place of happiness shall be consumed by the void, or swallowed up by another nation. If nothing is done, that small place of peace will no longer be seen or heard from again.

The man cannot allow it. He must protect what he loves, simply because he loves it.

Sheex Deltin is standing before a long white coat. It is hanging before him, hand-crafted by the finest tailor in that little town. Simple by the rest of the world's standards, it is the finest item ever produced by that tiny town. It was crafted for the man who would be the very first king of that small town, which had no kingdom at all.

The town was afraid, the people there were afraid. His wife is afraid, his daughter is afraid, his son is afraid; they don't want to disappear. But the simple town knows it cannot continue as is. The town needs a ruler, and who better than the man who has seen more of the world than the rest of the town put together?

Yes, Sheex Deltin has had many adventures, but that was then. Now, all he wants is to live in peace with his family. All he wants is their happy faces, free of tears, to smile at him until the day he dies. He would do anything for that simple wish.

Gently, his fingers touch the white coat before him.

No no no! The wind whispers to him. You don't want that!

"No, but even so," the man talks to the wind, "I think this is the right choice."

No no no! The wind cries back. It's too much responsibility! You'll crack under the pressure!

"Probably," the man admits, "but I still think it's the right choice."

Think carefully. Why do this? The wind asks of the man.

"Because wanting to protect those you love can't possibly be a mistake," the man silences the wind. He tosses aside his old black coat, a much loved object he has worn for so long, and dons the white coat. He is now a king, and the people are cheering for him.

But it is hard, to be a king. To rule, to be responsible for every single person, it is very difficult. Only those who bare the burden of ruling can possibly understand just how hard it is. People like Troy and Viola, who only serve, cannot possibly understand what it is like. They still serve a higher-ranked authority, they cannot help the man.

Only those who rule over all know what it's like to stand at the very top; to be responsible for so many people. People like Jared, Karel, and Lucifer. Sheex asks himself, "can I be like them?"

Simply put, he knows he cannot. Simple things, things that the man use to live by, no longer apply to being a king. A man can look to those near him, smile, and simply say, "I'll just save everything."

In order to protect something, you must sacrifice something. What can the man sacrifice?

He cannot be like Jared, the man who rules the shadows. Jared sacrificed the rest of the world to try and protect his home. The man cannot be like that; there are too many things in the world he cherishes.

He cannot be like Lucifer, the man who rules the earth. Lucifer sacrificed everything to achieve his goal; whether or not the goal is selfish or noble is irrelevant. The man cannot be like that; what good is achieving a goal if he tosses away those he loves along the way?

He cannot be like Karel, the man who rules the skies. Karel had to sacrifice just one child, only one child, for the power to protect his home. Black Isle is strong, because a little girl named Fir Northwind must bare the burden of making it so. She has no time for friends or fun, no time to play, no time to be a little girl. Every single ounce of her, from her body, to her dreams, to her very soul, Karel has sacrificed. He has sacrificed one innocent girl to protect thousands of others. It is fair, but Sheex knows he cannot be like that. It is precisely people like that one innocent girl that he wants to save.

A man can look and say, "I'll just save everything!" A king cannot.

He has only one thing he can sacrifice; he can only sacrifice himself. So he does this, and he does it without a single word of complaint. He takes himself, and the things he loves the most about himself, and throws them away. He learns to be cruel, to be devious. He is not a strong man, so he learns to be cunning. He learns to close his eyes, and harden his heart. Because he knows the path he chose is not a mistake, he can continue down it, regardless of what he becomes.

And so, that happy man, who only wanted to make sure those he loved didn't cry, threw himself headfirst into a world where all he did was cry.

It was enough, for a time. Because of his silent guardianship, the town is able to live on. Despite the chaos of the rest of the world, that small town still exists. It grows and flourishes, and manages to stay one step ahead of the shadows and the power-hungry nations. Keeping his silent vigil, the man protects what he holds most dear.

But now it is not enough; now he has to protect something very important. Once again he is called upon to sacrifice something to protect something. To ensure his son does not fall in battle, the man must throw something else away. In order to make sure his wife doesn’t cry tears on the grave of her only son, in order to make sure his daughter lives her life with the little boy she grew up with side-by-side, the man must sacrifice something. Since this is very important, he must sacrifice something very important.

The man reaches deep down, and grabs hold of something he loves. He holds onto this thing for a moment, and then throws it away. He take that precious thing, that thing he loves so much about himself, and destroys it. It’s gone now, he’ll never get it back.

Sheex Deltin will never smile again, as long as he lives.

It is a fair trade, he will never complain. Because of this sacrifice, his son will live, and his family will be happy. Though he will never smile again, his family doesn’t have to cry. One smile for three smiles; to him, it is worth it.

Nine Lives Cut!

Guy Deltin finishes his father’s attack, no creature can oppose it. He knew this before the attack even began, the outcome was a forgone conclusion. No matter what comes at him, he cannot be defeated. He cannot be defeated because of the sword in his hand. He cannot be defeated because of that unstoppable technique. He cannot be defeated, for if he is, then everything his father has done would be in vain.

Even so, that dream caught in the sword was very sad.

People are cheering him. All around him, people are crying his name. Soldiers from every nation are rallying around him. He is a beacon of hope to them, and they are calling him a hero. But, he doesn’t feel like one.

Everyone’s shouting at him, but he cannot hear them. He doesn’t see them, or the creatures he is slaying. All he sees is what the man sacrificed without a single complaint.

Maybe, maybe if the man complained, that dream would have been bearable. But the man never does, and that just makes the dream hurt too much.

Caladbolg’s radiance is brighter than the sun. How many people believe in him? So many people, putting all their hopes and dreams on him; it’s very hard to bare. Straining under the pressure, Guy reaches his hand out, grasping for that familiar thing he chased so long ago. If he could just catch it...

All at once a wind assaults him. Where does this fierce wind come from? Why does it rage at him so? It’s not on the field of battle, for there he is unstoppable. He cannot lose, but this wind threatens to topple him. Warring at him, raging at him, the boy’s legs begin to buckle. Even so, he is still reaching towards that familiar piece of cloth.

There! There it is! Right in front of him! The old black coat, flapping violently with the wind. And there’s that man, standing before him, giving the boy just enough peace from that terrible wind to stand back up.

“Hey!” The man with the black coat says. He turns his head just enough to look at the boy, whose fingers are still stretched towards that old black coat.

“Can you keep up with me?” The man asks of the boy. The boy grits his teeth, and continues the chase. The man smiles a smile lost to this world, and dashes on ahead through that terrible wind, with the boy right on his tail.

Someday, someday Guy knows he will finally catch that man. One of these days, he is going to catch up to his father. When he does, he is going to grab hold of that coat, and toss that man behind him. Because...because that man too deserves a rest from this terrible wind.

Until then, Guy will just have to keep going. Which is fine with him, because he knows what awaits him; after all, it’s not like it won’t be there when he gets there. That little house, with that smiling family. One of these days, Guy knows he’ll see it again. It’s only natural for it to be there.

His father has kept it safe for him.

[The Soulforged]

"It's time," Karel whispered at the helm of the Machiavelli, "we're late, but now we'll make all the difference in the world!"

Airship after airship emerges from the sky, flying at high speeds towards their destination. They keep their formation tight, every movement just as planned. Standing before the war-torn battlefield, the Princeps of Black Isle raises a hand.

"Load all guns!" He bellows.

"Guns loaded!" The crew cries back.

"Take aim!" He orders.

"Aim taken!" The crew confirms; Karel balls his hand into a tight fist.

"I know we're late, but I swear on all that I hold the dear I'll make up for it! Here and now, Black Isle will show the world its power! Listen to me crew! Now is the time to show your training! Take careful aim, and on my signal-"

"MY SHIP MY ORDER!" Fir screams at the top of her lungs. She bounces across the helm, her head not higher than a single control panel. She bounds upwards, scrabbles atop the panel in front of Karel, and snatches the communication orb from the man.

"Fir! I was in the middle of my speech!" Karal whines.

"You're taking too long! All ships! Annihilatefy!" Fir screamed into the communication orb. The sky rippled as each and every airship unleashed a salvo of strikes against the creatures of the void. Ground of black, not made so by nature but rather teeming with creatures of the void, is instantly shredded apart by a wave of cannonballs. Creature after creature is torn asunder by the mighty air fleet that is Black Isle.

"Awww yeah! In your face Cesarino!" Fir shouted as she pumped her fist in the air. "Time for the coup de grace! Ready the World Cannon!"

"Fir," Karel began; he is for the most part, completely ignored.

Sounds of machinery whirl to life on the Machiavelli. Gears rotate, and the bow of the ship opens to reveal a monumental cannon.. It's massive barrel is easily larger than any other weapon of war, save for the mighty airship capable of baring the titanic weapon. Clouds of steam are pumped into the air as seither, the magical energy that fuels the World Cannon, is flooded into the four tanks that serve as the chamber for ammunition.

“Hey! I’m suppose to be the one giving orders here!” Karel shouts to no avail.

“They’re not listening to you because you managed to wreck a fourth of your fleet before the real battle even started,” Seed chided as he clung to a chair for support. His sister may have built a number of airships, but that didn’t mean he had ever gotten used to flying. “Not to mention how late we are.”

“Cannon ready ma’am, er, sir. Whoever’s in charge,” the main gunner muttered slightly under his breath. Karel made to answer, but Fir was quicker.

“Find the biggest tallest largest enemy, and blow it to smithereens!” Fir ordered. The gunner gave a quick nodded, set his sights on the tallest of titans, and thumbed back several switches.

An ear-splitting roar silenced each and every other sound on the battlefield. Everything, from Trabant’s calm orders to the guttural chatter of the Echoes, was forced to silence as the World Cannon fired. A massive ray of energy burst forth from the cannon; the sky itself seemed to rend as energy streaked across it. Any Echo remotely close to the beam was instantly disintegrated; the creature hit full force from the beam simply ceased to exist. Not a trace of it, or anything around it for that matter, could possibly be scraped together. At first there was a massive titan surrounded by numerous smaller creatures, now nothing was there save a crater.

“Ah, it seems that Black Isle has finally decided to grace us with their presence. How wonderful,” a cool voice crackled over the communication orb.

“Is that you Troy?” Karel asked as he snatched the orb away from Fir (who kept trying to reach for it on her tippy-toes). “Look, I’m sorry I’m late but-”

“I’m not Troy, he’s busy trying to keep the shadows from clawing his wife to death. You are speaking to Trabant, the apparently acting commander-in-chief. Spare me your excuses, I’ve little patience or time for them,” Trabant’s voice faded just a bit as he spat a few more orders to summon nearby him; Karel couldn’t make it out.

“Oh! Oh! Can I talk to Uncle Sheex! Let me talk to Uncle Sheex!” Fir cried as she swatted at Karel’s knees, causing him to fumble the orb. The entire bridge crew cringed in fear as the fragile object fell towards the ground, but a timely swooping in by Seed averted disaster.

“Hello, Sheex can’t come to the orb right now. He’s too busy seductively saving his sweetly smiling sexy secretary Leila! Can I take a message?” A female voice echoed from the orb.

“Auntie Leila?” Fir gave a puzzled look at the orb as Seed frowned, and fiddled with the blasted thing before tossing it towards Karel.

“Fir? Ah, ignore what you just heard, mmm‘kay hon? Wait, Karel, you seriously didn’t bring an eight-year old...did you?”

“Well, er, the thing is-” Karel began to stutter.

“He didn’t have a choice! I have rights as the...whatever I am. Senior Adept of the take-no-crapcy,” Fir chimed at the orb.

“Still wondering how you figured that out,” Karel muttered under his breath. This earned him a glare from Seed.

“Oh, I try to teach her things like ‘how to read’ when she’s not busy building you weapons of mass destruction. I tried to find a kid’s book, but apparently her bookshelf contains nothing but engineering manuals, rules and regulations, and one very nice parchment on no-longer existent labor laws,” Seed spat as he stumbled about on the bridge, clinging to any stable object he could; a titan had just rocked the ship.

“Yeah, I wanted a book about a pink pony, but there wasn’t any room. Fiddlesticks,” Fir added in as she rolled across the bridge, and into her brother’s arms.

“You’re more evil then you let on Karel; I rather like that,” Trabant’s voice echoed from the orb, “but enough of that. I’ve areas I want you to focus fire on. We’ll be supporting the Saint of Swords, as he’s holding the...only spot we have left. Dear me, that’s not good at all...” Trabant’s voice faded out briefly as several battle sounds were heard. A vicious inhuman screaming sounded, mixed with the clanging of metal weapons.

“Didn’t take you for the type to care about things such as brining children to battle,” Karel heard a woman mutter, “do you have a soft spot for kids?”

“Not at all Viola. I just rather like the whole facade he puts on; walking arm in arm with his wife, laughing and strolling about his isle, pointing to this and that, proudly stating just how great Black Isle is; all the while he’s working children’s fingers to the bone. Brining them to battle is new to me though,” Trabant muttered back as a loud gunshot sounded.

“Better to be open about your sins than wrap them in sunny rays is what you’re getting at, yeah?” Another voice whispered; sounded like Sheex’s.

“You certainly seem aware of your crimes at the least; I just find it humorous. No doubt when that supposed savior Jensen visited Black Isle, Karel showed him about, beautiful wife in tow. ‘Look Jensen, see our great fleet!’ ‘Behold Jensen, the towers of my castle!’ ‘Aren’t they nice? Aren’t they grand? Please ignore the children I have laying stonework-” Trabant was interrupted by Karel.

“You know, I can still hear you guys,” The Princeps of Black Isle spat into the orb.

“And that means what to me? I’m not your brother-in-law Karel; I don’t care if you like me. Carthage cares for one thing: results. I really don’t care if you bleed that girl dry, or power your weapons with the blood of twelve-year old virgins, but I swear if you don’t hurry up and follow my orders, I’ll see you hung, Princeps or not,” Trabant finished his statement, and killed the communication line as he did so.

“Ha! You got told!” Fir joked as she rocked about in Seed’s arms, taking this whole battle as more of a game than an actual war.

“I suppose I did,” Karel muttered, “prepare to fire the cannons. Aim for Guy‘s location-”

“Bad idea,” Fir interrupted, “the Machiavelli’s guns’ll waste anything in a square mile radius. Don’t even get me started on the World Cannon.”

“Right; thanks Fir; send orders to my sister. Tell her to take her most accurate ships and begin bombing runs of the following coordinates,” Karel ordered; three soldiers nodded and immediately went to work.

“See! I had to come!” The little eight year old chided, not at Karel but rather her brother. Seed just rolled his eyes.

“I disagree, but see no value in arguing at the moment,” was his soft response.

“That’s as good as admitting I’m right!” Fir gloated. She then turned about in Seed’s arms and reached for the communication orb.

“Hey, are you done with that? I wanna talk to horny lady! Are you there horny lady? Helloooo!” Fir shouted at the orb.

“Really now,” Trabant muttered under his breath as Viola cleaved apart another Echo, “and you say Carthage goes to extremes.”

“You do,” Viola responded bluntly.

“True, but at least we’re honest about it,” Trabant laughed. Maybe, just maybe, everything would work out after all. Against his better judgment, the Carthage advisor did a rare thing, and allowed himself a faint sliver of hope.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen observed the gate with wide eyes, his jaw slacked slightly open in wonder. He could feel the grip of eternity clawing at his soul and trying to bring him into death's embrace. Xsenjen still held his arms open, and Broxsam smiled a devil's smile, hands shifting forwards as he rolled them one over the other. A bright light cast over the three gathered, the clouds of storm grey glowing a soft gold, and Xsenjen let a tear roll down his eyes. Jensen was filled with a plethora of emotions as well, and he looked into the light.

The first thing he witnessed was three shadowy apparitions, each one a long stalk like what would be found in a field. The shadow would slowly morph taking a humanoid shape, before long they gave birth to unique features. Long hair that shined with a brilliant radiance; a forming gut upon another that was plump; a slender tall figure with gentle blue eyes.

Without a doubt Jensen looked upon his friends once more. His body shook violently, his heart beating rapidly. His fingers flexed with a mind of their own in his eagerness. They looked to Xsenjen, who wept as he mumbled how much he missed them. The three smiled to him, waving, before they looked at the immortal. He gazed upon them, eyes filling with emotions he had not felt in a long, long time.

"Jensen!" They had all shouted it, but it felt so distant. Jensen wiped his eyes as he looked at them. "Come on lazy ass!" The Fallien beauty Chanelle teased.

"Yeah, don't you want to give us a hug?" Denzel, the leader of the group and Jensen's closest brother. Jensen looked at all three and Miguel, his best friend, stepped forwards and looked at Jensen with a coy smile.

"Nah guys, he's way too 'sit in the rain' for that." Jensen looked to them, saw them, and he peaked a glance to Xsenjen. The man looked frantically around in the light, like a lost little boy in the wild. He looked back to his friends and ran to them, pumping his arms furiously as he jumped through the gate into them. He wrapped his arms around the first woman he ever loved, twirling her as he laughed, but not as he usually did. This laughter was void of the haunting terror or the gripping madness, now filled with something the immortal thought he could never achieve again: Life. He cried, but did not care for he was with this friends again. They laughed with him and ruffled his hair as he smiled warmly.

"So, you got a new girlfriend now?" Chanelle said mysteriously.

"And who's your new brother, Duffy? He even remotely as good looking as me?" Denzel teased.

"I never thought you of all people would be best friends with a fairy king!" They all laughed and asked hundreds of questions as Jensen just took it all in. When they all managed to calm themselves down they sat in a small circle.

"I, I am so happy to see you guys," Jensen whispered. Denzel clapped him on the back and held his shoulder. "I just have to know, why me?"

They all looked to him oddly before a haunted voice of rage pierced into the gate floating in on a whisp of darkness clawing through the dark before the light dissipated it completely. The voice sounded much like Xsenjen's, and it was clear he was upset that his friends were not with him. Miguel narrowed his eyes as he spoke softly.

"Mortarion's gate isn't just for the dead," Miguel scowled. "It's also a place where time dies as well. You see every choice we make creates a new universe of options, but closes off a million doors as well. Each reality that is snuffed out is placed in Mortarion's gate where it can be kept for all eternity."

Chanelle looked to Xsenjen and scowled as well, her eyes filled with distrust as she gripped Jensen's hand. "Dead spirits can look at these realities and see just what would happen if a simple choice was changed. We saw the choice you made Jensen, and we approve of it!"

"We do not," Denzel growled lowly. "Like what Xsenjen did."

Jensen just blinked, his mind confused as he watched Xsenjen rage at the gate of death. Inky black tendrils slammed against the statues, cutting them deeply as he bellowed out the name of his friends who now forsake him.

"He lost himself," Chanele said with pity. "He could not cope with the loss, and threw his hope into despair and clung to the darkness. When he did that we no longer knew him. But you," Chanelle tapped his jacket and tugged the fabric. "You cut us away. You remember us, fondly, but you moved on. The Jensen we love is you, not Xsenjen."

"So because I chose to move on without you, I avoided plunging the world into chaos? I'm the catalyst that meant the world lived or died?"

"Uh," Miguel said sarcastically. "Duh...You emotional git. See what your whining can do! Told you it would end the world." they all laughed as Jensen stood with them. He looked out of the gate, seeing Xsenjen stand before it with hatred etched into every ounce of his being. The Void dripped from his fingers like a faucet as he beat at the gate, and Denzel narrowed his eyes in concentration.

"The moment needs to pass now, Jensen. You have to stop what Xsenjen is doing or else you'll not be going back home." Denzel said swiftly standing up.

"But," Jensen said much like a child would. "I don't want to leave you guys again." His cheeks felt a coldness as tears started to form again. A warm hand cupped the side of his face as another set of fingers wiped his face dry.

"We don't want to have you leave either," Chanelle whispered. "But you have to go. You promised somebody, remember?" Her hand lifted to Jensen's pocket and her fingers slowly lifted out something. It was a small keychain, nothing elaborate, of a small pink kitten. It had an over exaggerated smile and a cute little nose. Along the collar of the face was the name Stephanie in glittering fake crystal. Jensen's hand moved in a trance to grab it, reverently looking to it as he sighed. Holding the necklace put him back to his room, where he held her tightly and whispered he loved her so much. He nodded his head to Chanelle.

"I suppose I did," Jensen replied as he gripped the item tighter. "I'll miss you guys."

"And we'll miss you too," Miguel said patting him on the back. "Now go kick Xsenjen's ass and go back home. And while you're at it, make us some friends! We're getting bored up here!"

Jensen laughed as he walked forwards, and when he approached the gate he felt an overwhelming burden lighten up. His jacket that had always given him warmth seemed to weigh less to him, and he returned his cocky grin as he looked back to his friends one last time. They all smiled to him and he nodded once before jumping back through the gate.

The light had vanished entirely. He was back in the soulless grey world in front of the statues, the keyhole lowering again as the two chains lowered it solemnly. The storm clouds below and above began to swirl as the immortal tapped his chin in thought. The darkness encroached around Jensen, but with a passing glance to the eyes of the void he addressed Xsenjen.

"You never cut your sleeves," Jensen said dryly as he patted his stomach, rubbing his chest as his other hand ruffled the back of his hair.

Xsenjen was beside himself as he seethed in hate. Dark whisps of energy flowed around his form, the Void pooling around him. His fingers were held out like hawk talons, each one rigid and curled in spite. His eyes held no more warmth, but enmity. He glared at Jensen, a hateful stare that would obliterate him if he had the chance. He scoffed at the comment, a dark smile filled with predatory intent.

"You ruin my one chance to see my friends, take away my life's ambitions, crush the last bit of hope I had, and then tell me I didn't cut my jacket?" Xsenjen looked to Jensen, and laughed. He clapped, slowly and forcing both hands together as he stepped forwards.

Jensen merely shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, you never cut away the cold. I cut these sleeves because I knew I couldn't get the warmth they gave me back. I miss them, but I didn't wallow in my despair. Don't get me wrong! I was a miserable wreck for years, but compared to you I came out a hero."

"You done lecturing me on why you stole the one thing in our lives you knew I treasured most?" Xsenjen stepped forwards. "Because I, what? Gave enough of a damn to get them in my life again?"

"Blowing up the world never once seemed like a wee bit overboard?" Jensen teased. "I mean, I know I've got issues but damn, Xsenjen! You even changed your name around!"

"Enough of this..." Xsenjen whispered in irritation. His eyes looked up to Jensen and he narrowed them into two slits of hate, his jacket flapping behind him as he the world shook.

"I will kill you, Jensen, and then use the Void to rip that damn gate open! I'll find my erstwhile friends and punish them for casting me aside when I needed them most. I'll flood the whole world into eternal darkness and from the seat of the gods I'll watch as the fabric of reality destroys this plane of existence forever!"

Jensen shook his head as he looked to Xsenjen, and figuring the man was beyond reason prepared to fight. The Void Lord lifted one out, as if rushing it through water. A long black ink formed around his arm and came out like a whip. Jensen laughed as he dived low, coming up in a deep rush. Xsenjen spun lifting his hand upwards, the void spiraling upwards like growing vines covered in thorns. He rose with them, glaring upon Jensen with malice.

[orphans]

“About damn time!” Paul roared out as he cleaved through advancing dark spawn one after the other. Azza grunted in agreement as she swung the blade she had found while flexing her wounded arm the whole time. She was regenerating more quickly than she had ever before and had no clue as to why. Of course, she didn’t care very much, so long as it kept her in the fight.

A pair of daggers flew past Paul and Azza to decorate the head of a Legionnaire approaching them as bolts of spells ensured it stayed down. “Coulda sworn I saw you buy the farm an hour ago Coyo!” Azza taunted in jest.

“Oh you know, got two lovely ladies I have to protect,” was the casual reply as he embedded a short sword through the gut of a lesser shadow. The remaining Orlouge sisters only scoffed at Coyo’s comment as their small group carved a path towards Paul and Azza. Likewise, Paul, Azza, and what was left of berserkers did the same.

With the airships now in the fray, the scales began to tip in the alliance’s favor. However slight, it gave those who were still alive breathing room as the waves of darkness were thrown into disarray.

A powerful shout nearby signaled Lucifer’s charge with the tattered handful of cavalry he still had. Despite Lucifer’s lack of numbers, him and his men cut down foe after foe in an effort to assemble together with the rest of the surviving soldiers and their leaders.

“You’re still alive?!” Paul shouted to Lucifer, “And your horse too?!”

“Of course, I wouldn’t be able to show my face around if I died before you,” was what Lucifer spat back as he decapitated a soldier leaping for him.

The comment infuriated Paul, which he only used in turn to cleave the nearest soldier in half. “Two pints says I kill more than you!”

“I prefer wine!”

“If you two love birds are quite done, it would behoove us to rally at the command tent,” Felicity said quickly, irritation clear as crystal in her tone. “We have not been able to communicate with them for quite some time.”

“I agree,” was the short reply of David King as another wave of energy crackled from his right hand to blast a dozen echoes back. His other hand still held his sword, recently decorated with the body of an echo that was irritatingly stuck. A quick snap of his wrist wretched it loose.

Throwing her eyes over to Felicity, Azza thought better than to comment on Felicity’s disheveled appearance – hair loose and dress ripped – and agreed with a hearty, “To the tent then! I wanted some ice water anyways.” No sooner had she finished, several soldiers lunged at her.

Aislinn countered before Azza had a chance, sending a wall of ice erupting through the ground. “There’s some ice for you!”

The usually response would have been Azza palming her face. Given the situation, the best Azza could manage was grab a soldier by its antennae and hurl it into the obstruction. It gave a screech of pain before it was silenced with a sickening crunch after being embedded head first into the wall.

“Azza! Go cover the Orlouge sister,” Paul roared over the melee, “Cleave us a path back so we can regroup!”

There was no hesitance in her movements. There could be no hesitance. Casting a quick glance back to Paul and his wolves, she saw them hacking apart anything that came close as they slowly pulled back. Running past the remaining soldiers of the Emprean army, Carthage, men who still wore the Orlouge emblem, and the orphan army of her home camp, it was clear they had all suffered substantial losses.

But everyone continued to fight, some even with a smile or laugh upon their lips.

Hope, it was a simple thing for those still alive. It was a frail thing that offered shelter when there was none. No matter what, as long as there was still life, there would be hope. For these men and women, it was the only thing that kept them fighting. Not because they might win, but it was so that they could live just a while longer to hope.

It was all they wanted as the airships above rained death to cover their tracks.

[Zantetsuken]

Cannonballs lobbed forwards, bouncing into the ground and skipping through ranks upon ranks of the scattered void. Ships anchored and began to launch salvo after salvo into the front lines of the Void, their armaments ripping though them and tipping the scale back. Titans screeched as the first real opponent showed to the battle, charging recklessly forwards as they squashed anything in their path to fight this new foe.

The Nosferatu glided flawlessly in the air, the triple barrel guns rotating rapidly as they racked up kills. Serra’s arms jinked and juked left and right, the command of the ship all hers as it dived and rose like a bird in flight. The most agile ship in the fleet could bank, dip, and even, in extreme circumstances, perform a barrel roll or what Fir happily called ‘the loop –de-loop.’ With death caused by each shot it was hard not to let the lust of power whisper in her ear.

“Serra, Titan inbound upon the Saint of Swords, he’s rallying soldiers there!” Troy’s voice broke through the orbs loudly. She had ordered only one orb to turn to full volume, and that was Troy’s. She grumbled lowly to herself, breaking off pursuit of a fleeing sky titan as her ship lurched to the left and made a straight shot towards a small clearing. It was there she saw the brightest light she ever could recall coming from a sword, and without even needing to guess she knew it came from the Saint of Swords.

“Guy Deltin is reporting that he does not need the assistance, and to help the retreat on the right flank!” Her communication’s officer reported. Serra nodded her head as she dove upwards into the sky and came about. Who was she to argue with the Saint of Swords?

“What about the Black Isle footmen? Have they landed?” Serra asked. The comms officer was silent for but a moment, and the sounds of battle was all that was heard. He then turned with a relived face.

“Regal Burnswidth reporting all the boats have docked,” The comms officer then laughed lightly. “At the port at midnight,” he added.

“He’s such a moron…” Serra whispered with a grin. Regal had insisted they use secret spy code to thwart the enemy. Then again, this was also the man who thought you could use a fluffed pillow to hide a body, and could level a building with a single sword strike if roused to it.

There was a sudden trembling in the comms as the ship spiraled out of control, Serra cussing out a storm as the ship dived in a spiral. People lost control of their paperwork and some of the orbs came loose, shattering as the hull groaned with stress. There was a moment of panic before she righted the Nosferatu and turned the vessel back to a straight path.

“Everybody okay?” Serra shouted. There were calls of reply, some bitching, some just nodding as the ship moved forwards again. “Helm, what the hell was that?”

“Mam, we’re in the middle of a warzone.” The woman replied angrily. “It could be a stray cannon shot, artillery, a new Void creature, magic, or the Saint of Swords farted for all I care!” Serra noticed the woman was furiously moving tiny gems around, looking through the telescope for the source. “Found ya!, Port side, m’am, a Sky titan rammed us! It’s gearing for another charge. Dive low to avoid interception!”

With engines roaring and the magical siether that fueled this mechanical wonder spewing out the vents, the ship dived again, the cannon teams below deck reloading the cannons for another deadly salvo. The ship turned left sharply, and then rose again and Serra could now see out of the view port the Titan that had hit them.

Her scar began to burn a little as she watched the beast flap its wings wildly, a manitee like wail of defiance as green balefire fell out its mouth hitting the ground. Where the flames congregated ink was formed, and tiny soldiers suddenly appeared. Serra watched all this and felt her blind eye twitch.

“Admiral?” The ship remained stationary, hovering in place as the thrusts were aimed downwards. Serra looked to it, before her teeth clenched and eyes narrowed. The ship lurched forwards with sudden motion, and the crew, who was not ready yet, was tossed around their seats as Serra aimed her bow right for the creatures black heart.

It noticed her attack run, and with a screech it flapped upwards, climbing as it made way to flee. “No you don’t!” Serra shouted angrily as the ship dived upwards in pursuit. The beast turned its head and a stream of fire hit the airship, pushing it back as the Void creature turned and put its all into the blast.

The Nosferatu still came, cutting through the fire like a sword as the beast let out another frightened screech, barely turning in time as the ship passed. It flapped its mighty wings and rose again, moving swiftly as it made a break for it. Serra pulled several levers to make the ship angle sharply, nearly turning the hull into a perfect ninety degree angle in her pursuit.

“That’s the bastard who killed Talen!” Serra whispered through her clenched teeth. “That’s the one that killed him! That’s the titan who attacked my home! Killed my friends! Took my eye! That’s the one!”

The crew remained silent as their captain vented her frustrations, moving the ship in a deadly dance of chase. It was like a hawk after a bird, both moving nimbly, moving up and over airships, tossing Void creatures aside as they scampered to catch the other. It was as if Serra was in a trance suddenly, her moves on the controls seamless and exact, the ship banking hard and coasting to a drift as she cut the engines and ignited them again in a rush. The strain on the ship was taking its toll as finally one of her crew members spoke through her haze of battle lust.

“The ship’s integrity is being breached; the engines are far to stressed! Steam is building up and the bents can’t push it out in time. Not to mention I’m about to lose my lunch! We can’t give it much more!”

“But she can still give it!” Serra shouted, not as a question but a statement. The ship pulled into a rapid climb. The titan moved upwards as well, its sights on something in the distance. Cannons began to fire and her hull was breeched as the dragon spun in a roll. The Nosferatu’s inner lights flashed before emergency red ones filled the cabin.

“Direct hits to the side wings and lower cannon deck! Reporting two casualties and we’ve taken fire.

“I’M NOT LOSING IT!” Serra screeched as the dragon screamed and continued to climb towards the Machiavelli. “Tell Karel not to fire at us!” There was a hissing sound as something was being built up behind her ears, before a pipe exploded pushing steam out over the bridge. Serra continued her climb as the ship trembled.

“Serra!” Troy’s voice came over the comms loudly. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Killing that bastard who took my eye!”

“Are you insane? It’s one titan, we need you elsewhere!” Viola’s voice broke through. “No personal grudges can come before-“

“With all due respect, Chief Counselor Of Emprea, shut the hell up!” Serra said as her ship banked hard but still moved forwards. Her cannons were nearly in range, she just needed a few more yards.

“How do you even know that’s the one? There are hundreds of them,” Trabant’s voice mumbled in the background.

“Let me rip out your eye and see if you forget me!” Serra muttered back with clenched teeth. Almost there. The bastard was trying to use the Machiavelli as a screen. Troy’s voice silenced those around him as he sighed deeply.

“Serra,” Troy said softly. Serra felt her heart clench as she was near her target. She choked out a tear of rage, knowing her ship was about to fall apart. Her better senses took over her judgment, pushing the ship forwards on its last leg. Another cannon wave nearly crippled her ship to pieces and she looked to her crew out of the corner of her last good eye. “It won’t bring anyone back, you know…”

“They took so much from us…” Serra said with a large sniffle. “They broke apart my happiness, they killed my friends, that one is responsible for such much pain…”

“Then deal with it swiftly.” Came a third voice on the comms. “I personally don’t understand why everyone has these little flights of fancy, but let me be clear with these words. Take what it rightfully yours, and then get back to the fight.” She knew that voice.

“Is that you Prince Blight?” Serra asked. There was a moments pause before the voice returned.

“Just kill the damn thing already.” Lucifer replied. Serra looked to her crew, and saw the determination in their eyes. She looked to her helmsman.

“Still in sight m’am. This one killed my brother, I want it dead.” There were other words of encouragement to push the ship onwards. She hit the thrusts, angled the ship on a course, and flew right at the beast.

“You heroes and your silly needs for center stage,” Lucifer mumbled.

“All cannons, report!”

“All cannons are live and ready m’am!” The ship banked in time with the dragon again. The spirit of the Nosferatu seemed to want this one kill as well, as the trembling stopped. The beast shrieked now, terror as it moved closer to the Machiavelli. Cannonballs clipped the ship, taking out much of the hull. The glass of the port cracked as they barely grazed one. The Titan’s wings had several puncture hulls through the membrane. This dance of death had turned into a game of chicken. Which flyer would crash, which one would succeed? The airship gave off one last boost of strength.

“Karel reporting that the ship is withholding fire to prepare for Wolrd cannon! All Ships move out of the blast radius in sector five!!” The comms leader shouted.

“Target in sight!” The helms woman shouted.

“Aiming all cannons on target!”The weapon team cranked the wheels hard.

“Target locked!” The lead gunner shouted.

“For Talen, and all those you killed…” Serra whispered. There was a shudder of noise, every cannon upon the Nosferatu shot, and with it the beast was hit multiple times. It’s neck was snapped, head obliterated, spine twisted and crushed as it flopped uselessly in the air, before at last falling downwards. The ponderous might of the Machiavelli turned, the main gate mouth opening again as the gears rotated slowly.

“Target lock!” Fir’s tiny voice came over the comms. “Annialatify!” She shouted. Serra watched as the pure magic fired outwards in a stream that cut the earth again, this time blasting the thickest pocket in the middle of the Void. Several hundred titan’s died as the millions of creatures at their feet disintegrated.

Serra watched with a dark glare as the body of the titan fell through the blast, it’s whole body incinerated so nothing remained.

“Target destroyed,” The Helmswoman said darkly.

“Well, let’s go give Lucifer support.” Serra said indifferently. Her hand reached up to her eye and she touched it. With a nod she slowly turned her ship on its axis and dived down again.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen’s lips were wet with blood as he slid on his shoulders backwards in the murky emphereal waters of Mortarion’s gate. With an unseen bump he rolled to a stop, jacket covering his face as the liquid mercury like substance clung to his cheek and stung his open wounds.

“I am sick of you,” Xsenjen’s voice rang in his ears. “Sick of this world. Sick of everyone who wants to get in my way.” Xsenjen lowered his hand down, the flesh lacerated as if cut several times by knives, and the crimson ichor dripped into the mercury giving it a red aura that made the Void Lord all the more menacing. He gripped the edge of the jacket and lifted, lifting Jensen up by the armpits to his jacket.

“You talk a lot, asshole,” Jensen quipped as he angled his arms in and fell out of his jacket. When he touched the ground he knelt on one knee, pushing back up and flipping in a mighty flash kick that caught his otherworldly brother in the jaw, smashing it shut and launching him in the air where he landed with a splash and a hard thud on the ground. With a giggle the immortal caught his jacket in the air and twirled it so he once again donned it, shuffling in his battle stance.

Xsenjen slammed a fist into the ground causing a large spiked pillar to erupt in the air. Jensen had to rotate in a cartwheel to dodge it, but as swiftly as it came it fell again, lifting upwards in the new location. It followed the laughing immortal everywhere he went giving him no respite as the Void Lord stood again. Jensen let out a howl of glee as he rolled towards Xsenjen, grabbed him, and held him close. With a panicked cry the master of the Void pushed Jensen away and used a fist to slam into the forming pillar coming to impale him, making it disappear in a shower of inky droplets.

The immortal was on him in no time, a stiff kick coming for his mouth. He turned and lifted his hand, grabbing the ankle and falling, adding more weight to his throw. Jensen floundered in the air and collided on the ground once again in a heap, bouncing and hacking in a wheezing fit of the giggles. Xsenjen lifted himself up slowly and brought both hands up, as if wrenching something out of the sea while black tendrils of Void matter flowed from fingertips.

Jensen felt the world shake as he got on all fours, the angels guarding the gate of Mortarion shifting in silence as the chains they were bound to jingled and clanged. The immortal watched in awe as the world outside was slowly being made visible, and what it was Xsenjen was pulling out made that much more sense.

He was trying to rip the Void out of the earth using the life stream.

“I haven’t a reason to care anymore, not about those people! Look at them! They all banded together to save themselves, but not one banded to help me! I suppose in some twisted, laughing joke, I should have realized that the things I want were always taken from me! Even now the world dares to strip me of my ultimate prize! But I will have the last laugh, Jensen!”

“And one flew over the cuckoo’s nest…” Jensen whispered as he lifted up his new weapon, swiping it before him in defiance. Xsenjen looked to him, eyes wide with a frenzied passion as he gritted his teeth, pulling the raw essence of the Void out of the world to unleash.

~*~*~

Down upon the plains of the war, the Void chattered with a chorus voice of praise as the life stream was forcibly ripped out. Where it bled new abominations were born, rushing into the battles with a nihilistic glee as others floated in the air spewing Void magic like a doom-sayer prophet. The Titans of the Void roared and thrashed forwards as they marched. They cared little for what was in their way in the rush to crush the forces of mankind as the world took a collective step back from this new onslaught. The Sky Titans changed tactics in the air, ramming themselves into the vessels of the Black Archipelago and sinking their ships to kill those beneath them.

Several Titans converged upon one spot, where the madness of Seth Dahlios was unleashed like an unfed wolf. He sprawled a titan to the floor with a powerful burst of dark energy from his daggers, another golden orb in his hand that he held at the ready, climbing up another titan’s leg and jumping to its chest, slamming the orb in. Ribbons of energy danced around the mighty beast as it was torn to shreds, the Lavinian Demon and Baron of Revan let out a primal call of fury, his body building with Hex Magic as the Void responded with more and more numbers.

From the wellspring the darkness crawled out from was a cry so powerful the world quaked and even the mighty titans gave pause to tremble. The very essence of the Void was coming, and while the forces of humanity fought a losing battle, one battleship blared a return cry from the horns, notes so powerful it scared frenzied Sky Titans away.

The Machiavelli ponderously loomed towards the hole created by the Void.

~*~*~

Xsenjen laughed as the wind in the chamber whipped his jacket in the air behind him, Jensen unable to move from the intense gale force winds. This was it, the moment the world had been fighting to prevent. The end was coming and Jensen felt all of his hope start to slip away. There was nothing he could think to do, nothing he could conceive to stop the Void Lord from achieving his goals.

Yet suddenly everything in the plane Jensen existed on froze. The winds stopped, but still gravity held everything up. Droplet’s of black ichor hung in the air, frozen in place by some unseen power. The immortal looked to the world below, the only source of movement he could detect. There he saw the Void shudder, before it scrambled forwards like lunatics unable to contain themselves. The Void energy in the area collectively hummed as Xsenjen’s lips bled out and his eyes widened in shock. As he slipped to his knees the Void Lord looked to Jensen with a face he’d never forget. Mixed with sadness, disappointment, and regret. The Immortal watched him fall to his side, the energies of the Void slowly being sapped forwards like a tree taking root in a dense bed of dirt.

And where it rooted was the hands of the savior of the world; Brosam.

[Zantetsuken]

The massive airship of the Black Archipeligo shook and groaned as the hundreds upon hundreds of cannons fired. The war crew was moving in hurried, frantic paces, the gunners ordering volleys to ensure no gaps in protection. Since the change in tactics of the enemy to ram everything in the skies, the ships had been ordered to keep their shots in a controlled overlapping pattern to ensure that nobody was at risk of an attack.

Karel looked out over the glass canopy of the observation dome, a specialized tempered glass designed in Fallien that he could use to watch the ebb and flow of the battle like the seat of a god. He hadn’t stood in this chamber for months, the last flight of his terrible war engine not made since the last war to save the world. And like then when he watched he prayed to the dead gods that his friends and family were safe, and that they would see all he cared for through this war.

His habit hadn’t changed since then, walking towards the center of the glass and spotting the wounded Nosferatu smoking after a Sky Titan attempting to ram the Lavinian Pride. He could see the darkness encroaching upon the last bastions of humanity, and he closed his eyes in contemplation as the entire hull began to quake and tremble. He could hear the communication chatter from the room behind him, and listened to Fir shout out the command to once again fire the World Cannon at the Void’s strongest nest.

The brilliant luminescence shot a path that disintegrated the Void, leaving the world scorched burned brightly. The mark left in the ground had covered much of the land in ash. Karel wondered what world would be left if weapons like these were all that could stop the Void. Would it even be worth saving?

Those were thoughts he had before he found the world ripped open and a preverbal gateway to the Void had opened. The darkness that absorbed the land sent the frenzied creatures into an uproarious cry of passion. They bellowed and screeched louder than ever, their attacks more to smash asunder and leave with no questions left to ask if there was a chance, a spark of hope. It was as if they were eating away at the last thing Humanity had left; Hope.

Karel looked to the hole and turned back to the command bridge, lifting up his communication orb and twirling it casually as he stood on the deck of his beloved flagship. “Status report,” Karel asked.

“We’re working on a counter to what the world has to fight now. Something is probably coming through that hole and we intend to stop it,” N’Gash said solemnly. “Not to mention that if whatever is causing the Void creatures to attack like they are lives and isn’t dealt with, escape is pretty much useless.”

“Not that escape was an option before,” Karel countered. “Remember the world is ending…now it just seems far more likely with all these theatrics.” Karel gestured to the life stream and the Shroud of Shadows. N’Gash gave him a polite smile to indicate he agreed.

“Hey,” Fir said urgently as she ran onto the deck, Seed not far behind. “Hey we got a big problem!” Karel turned to his prodigy engineer and nodded for her to continue. She bent over, took a breath and then looked up. “The reactor is overloading.” Karel’s eyes opened in concern as he looked to the young one. “We’ve been firing the World Cannon way too much, and not the Seither is building up to unsafe levels! We’re gonna pop like a balloon!” To demonstrate her point, she hugged herself and jumped, extending outwards. “Ka-blooie!”

“The pressure can’t be rerouted? We can’t make another vent? Have we tried exposing the core outside?” Karel asked, his questions coming at a rapid rate as he turned to his command throne and approached it grabbing the engine room’s communication orb.

“Do you think I’m Jared Sissy-reno?” Fir called back. “Of course we thought of that! But you once again prove why I’m the one in charge!” Fir stuck her tongue out and crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t just vent magic like that. It doesn’t work that way! You have to be able to release it slowly. It doesn’t just escape like pressurized steam. Duh!”

“Right,” Karel commented back, a bit rosy in the cheeks. “So then, how do we take care of it?”

“I dunno,” she muttered shrugging. “I thought I’d just tell you about it first.” Karel looked to her, blinked a few times, looked to Seed, who shrugged and nodded, and then he looked to N’Gash. The tall dark skinned man tapped his chin in thought, his head bowing down to his chest.

“Young lady,” the man said opening his arms to suggestion. “Could we not just…drop it out of the ship?” Karel looked to him, and noticed his eyes were looking out at the Void hole in the world. “If we let the magical energies swarm enough within the chamber, ould we not jettison it out into the enemy, creating an explosion? Like a bomb?”

“Sure,” Fir nodded and shrugged again. “If you don’t mind letting the Seither explode and probably kill everyone in the Gulch. Not to mention the years of raw Seither tainting into the land, being soaked up. Ouu….and mutations.”

“But if we drop it down a hole…” Karel said mischievously, catching the grin on N’Gash’s face. The girl looked to them both, and then bent down drawing imaginary things on the steel flooring. She began to furiously mutter as she ran forwards to the observation deck, and the trio of men followed her. She already had a black marker out and was scribbling all over the glass very crude drawings.

“Yes, that hole looks big enough that it will absorb the shock! But, you may want to evacuate all the people on the ship ‘cause the updraft of the explosion is going to knock this ship through a loop!” She showed a very basic drawing of the flagship being punched in what could only be assumed the “face” of the ship. Karel looked to her, and then nodded.

“Alright, I’ll head down and begin to unlatch the cannon.”

“Stupid!” Fir shouted back. “Not the whole, you’ll be committing suicide thing, but because you have no idea what you are doing! I’ll do it.” Fir smiled. The others didn’t.

“No!” Karel and Seed shouted at the same time.

“I forbid you to do that, Fir!” Seed continued.

“I am not going to let you do that, Fir,” Karel said a fraction of a second behind Seed. The Princeps stepped forwards to her and knelt before her, his face filled with determination. “My duty is to ensure the safety of my people. Let’s not sugar coat it, Fir, I’ve been using you to do that.” Seed was about to say something, but bit his tongue as he looked to Karel while Fir looked to Seed, then to her Princeps. “I sacrificed your childhood to give Black Isle the chance it needed to survive in this world. I took away your life, Fir, and that choice still haunts me to this day.”

“Karel…” Fir tried to say, but Karel kept talking to her.

“I cannot, and will not stand by and let you kill yourself! The Seither in the room is probably lingering if what you told me is true. That could kill a person if exposed to that! So I’m going to pull rank, and do the job myself. Abandon ship, Fir. That’s an order.”

There was silence in the room for a moment before Fir looked to Karel, stepped forwards, and placed both hands on his shoulder.

“What size screwdriver do you need to take the panel off?” Fir said softly. Karel didn’t answer as she looked right into his eyes. “Which wires do you need to cut first before you dis-engage the cannon! What is the proper tool used to unlock the bolts to the cabin? Do you even know what Cabin I’m talking about? How about the proper controls and where to hook the cannon to the gangway? Can you answer any of those questions?” Karel looked to her, and saw in her the determination to see her plan out. “No, of course you don’t. You’re the pussy-whipped-princess of the Take-no-crapcy! So I’ll go down there and do what nobody else can, unless you feel like killing millions when this thing goes nova!”

Seed looked to Fir as Karel gulped. Fir continued to speak again. “You haven’t a clue how to do any of those things, and if it isn’t handled just right we’re going to blow the thing up, and crushing thousands of people, not to mention the shockwave would probably crash our airships, causing more collateral damage! You can’t do this because you would kill us all!”

Karel looked to her, and then with a heavy sigh he stood up and turned away from her. “Very well, and good luck.” Karel stepped out onto the command deck again and looked to his command crew before he snatched the Communication’s Orb.

“Serra, send us a few ships to cover the escape ships. The Machiavelli is abandoning ship,” Karel said loud enough for his men to hear. There was a stunned silence, filled only by the thunder of cannons, before men began to sound the alarm.

“What nonsense is this?” Trabant’s voice spoke up. “Your ship hasn’t taken any significant damage and I see no smoke!”

“We’ve got an overloaded world cannon that has enough pressure to blow this gulch sky high. We’re going to release it into the hole of the Void and hopefully kill whatever is coming for us! Begin evacuation of the front line, have them retreat back as safely as possible.”

“Very well,” Trabant muttered as he switched out.

“Karel,” Serra spoke quickly. “Make sure Seed and Fir are safe. I can have the –“

“Fir is going to prep the cannon.” There was another round of silence as his men all looked to him, making sure they heard him right. It was Serra’s voice that broke the silence first.

“She is what? Why? If the ship is in danger she needs to get out of there!”

“She’s the only one who can do it. I’ve made my choice,” Karel said ending the manner and shutting off her communications to him. He turned to his throne, and walked towards it with a heavy heart as he sat upon it, leaning back and looking out the viewport. Nobody made a move on the deck as Karel noticed the lights changed to emergency red. “You have no obligation to stay,” Karel commanded. “You served me well, now go.”

“All do respect sir,” a soldier said uncomfortably. “But if Fir is onboard, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Then helmsmen,” Karel said. “Make way for the hole in the world…we’re going to plug it up.”

[Dissinger]

Hatred. Rage. Pain. Loneliness.

These were the gifts of the void. Not power, not prosperity, not happiness. The void only took, leaving those who drew from the well poorer than when they had first begun. He had a name, he was someone, but now there were only the flashes of life between the periods of drunkenness. He had forgotten much, but still clung to something in his head. His mind was full, too full, he needed to empty it, and nothing emptied his thoughts more than the ebb and flow of battle. Here it didn’t hurt to think, here his purpose and his body were as one. A bloody god upon the field of battle he raged as he slew all around him, throttling them with the very chains that had sought to keep him in place.

But then he caught it, a glimpse of perfect clarity. It was like a soothing balm to the pain his head was encased in. He moved towards it his lungs screeching in rage as he moved. He thought he heard a voice, someone trying to goad him back where he was, but he knew better. He had to escape the pain anyway possible, and salvation was at hand. Something for the first time in his memory was making the hurting stop and he would kill any who got between him and it.

Before him stood several Titans. Each a behemoth of size, and each raising a meaty fist before bringing it down upon the people about it. Many died and still the bloody god moved forward, entranced by the simplicity of the slaughter that was to begin. His eyes settled upon one, and in that instant, the chains were forgotten and clarity reached that crystalline point. Grey eyes once more filled with life saw the titan before him, raising the fist and beginning to bring it down upon his head. He could see the inky blackness of its skin, hurtling towards him with a crystal clarity before he uttered one word, a solitary sound in the chaos and noise that assaulted them.

“Stop.”

The fist came to a halt mere inches from his face as he looked upon the creature of the voice, and cracked dry lips broke into a smile. Blood spilled from them as he drank down some of the coppery fluid and spoke, his voice gaining strength, “Hello old friend…” Looking around he grasped a communication orb as gripped it before he looked up at the titan, even now flattening it’s hand against the ground, urging him upon it. With a nod he stepped upon the hand, even as the other titans turned and looked upon the lunatic and titan. It was the moment of oddity that gave the Demon a chance to look upon them before he hissed out in rage, “Get out of here. This isn’t your world.”

The titans howled in rage as they immediately burst in a flash of light. All but the titan holding Seth were destroyed in the utterance of the command before he looked upon the orb, hearing dozens of voices. In the haze one sounded familiar. The man had at one time been a thief in Lavinya, before Mordechai had twisted him into a cruel parody of himself. With careful intent he spoke towards the orb, and made his will known, “Sarah…”


~*~

“Right flank has shored up, the titans are dead except for one…” The report was firm as other reports and chatter came over the bridge. Hundreds of men and woman looked at their consoles with apt attention as the chatter on the bridge was kept to a minimum. Jared stood a few steps before Sarah giving the major reports to the other Lords of the World, while Serentiy wove a complex strand of orders weaving the Black Ops teams to where they were needed most. With the Right flanks dissolution the need to cover the retreating forces had been dire. So much so that they had herded Seth onto the flank as a means of buying time. The intent wasn’t necessarily to kill the Baron, but to use his chaotic nature to form a wall against the encroaching darkness.

It worked, perhaps too well when the titans burst in a fountain of light.

Suddenly the communication Orb in Jared’s hand lit up and a deathly rasp of a voice could be hear, “Sarah…”

Everyone stopped upon hearing the voice. It had been lost to time, but many upon the bridge of the Lavinian Pride recognized it. It was hard not to remember the voice of the man who had taken them from a dead country to a thriving nation in a fortnight. To rally against the gods themselves and eventually sacrifice himself for the good of the people. His tale had begun of one in villainy, but his redemption was the kind that was absolute. No one could question the man’s morality after all he had done to protect Reven. Sarah stood up from her throne as she moved forward cautiously. Gone was the mere mask of regality, as she felt the resonation in the voice. Voices were already screeching, demanding to know who had picked up the orb;

“Who is this!? Identify Yourself!”

“You fool, get off the air waves, we need this channel clear for communications!”

More voices joined the Chorus as the rasping voice repeated itself, until Sarah forcefully took the Orb from Jared. Eyes upon her she spoke, “Welcome back, Baron.”

The channel went silent. Immediately everyone was listening as the voice of the long thought lost Seth Dahlios began to speak, “I need to get up there. The ritual is almost done, and the patsy is dead. The time to strike is now! Clear out every Sky Titan you can, I’ll make my way up…”

“Are you mad? You think you can just fly up into the sky like this and just do as you please?”

“Is that a tone of frustration Raven? Perhaps you’re still smarting from how a dead country managed to repulse you before you even hit land?” The voice gained strength with use, and none could doubt it was Seth. Reven’s Defense against Black Isle was still a sore point between the nations. Still the voice continued, “If I’m done being interrupted by fools. Clear my sky Baroness. I didn’t give the command to you so you could gawk while I do the heavy lifting…”

“You always were an ass Seth. Alright, activating the cannons, you’ll have a few minutes while they figure out what the hell happened. Make it quick…”

“Just a few minutes? Jared hasn’t been fed recently has he?” Seth asked.

Sarah looked at the Traitor General who smirked before she replied, “I distrust the man, you knew as much…”

“Fair enough. We’ll talk after this is over…”

Sarah gave the orb to Jared before she barked out one order, “Activate the grid. I want the air clear of anything not native to this plane of existence. If it looks even remotely shadowy in my sky after this I will feed you to the void myself!”


~*~

Seth looked upon the Titan who was already moving towards the twisting coils of light in the sky. The Machiavelli was moving to plug the hole in the only way it knew how. With the occasional report of progress on that front. Seth merely shook his head as he muttered, “At least when I subject a guy to the blackest pits of humanity, I make it an adult Raven. I suppose its easier to hide your atrocities when everyone has to kiss your ass to survive. Its good to see you again Shaxliod.”

The titan briefly brushed against his mind, causing another soothing round of painless thought as it gave him it’s general assent. Seth nodded his agreement as the titan lumbered through the battlefield. Seth made sure to use the time it would take to warm up the Lavinian Prides energy Grid to cause havoc in the enemy lines as much as possible. He wouldn’t be returning, but they needn’t know. A serenity overcame his being as he looked down upon his outfit and chuckled, “Even when I was a lunatic, you made sure to remind everyone I was in charge…”

The titan clung the Stream of Life, the very threads of the world itself, and began its ascent as Seth carefully pulled the necklace out into the open and looked upon the locked. Two tufts of hair, one brown and one white were kept within. A reminder of the atrocities committed against him when he began this foolish plan. Sei had been right of course, they couldn’t stop Jensen, only delay the inevitable. Still, the chance had presented itself and if Xsenjen truly was dead, the bastard got what he deserved. The abomination he had created though…there was only so much time and Seth was already grasping desperately at the strands of thought in his mind and weaving them into the two threads, the two complete lives they had been.

Both had known this day would come, and both had laid a desperate gamble. Lavinians were far too loyal to the bonds of family to ever turn on their own, and so Seth had been the one to carry the key to the puzzle. The plan had been carefully thought through with the tactical brilliance of Sei and the ruthless cunning of Seth. By combing their patterns of thought they had envisioned a worse case scenario where this power would turn on its master. Seth’s experiences with the Hex Magi had been proof enough of a concept, and so it had only taken theory and speculation to guess at the true motive. With the world as the true prize, and the very deterioration of the plane they then began to envision why this would have happened.

They came to one conclusion.

Someone, had opened the door. They had been enveloped in the void and returned, corrupting and influencing some poor sap to do all the work. Then when the plan was coming to fruition they would kill the patsy and begin the final stages of the plan. For this to work however, they would need the key to the next door, so the process could begin anew in the next world. Why this was they would never know, but from what Seth had gathered from the Void, it was searching for something. In order to continue the search it needed to expend a vast amount of energy to reach the next plane of existence, and in doing so consumed the one it currently resided in. Like a swarm of locusts the Void was searching for the ultimate food source and would devour everything in its path. The solution was simple.

Close the door.

In doing so the void would expend its energy for nothing. With no new territory to consume, it could not continue the search and eventually, it would wither and collapse under itself. This was the theory, but how to close that door was anyone’s guess. That was, until Taka, Talen, and Aislinn realized the key to the puzzle. The door was open, which meant someone on the other side had opened it. Obviously the answer was simple, only a native of the plane could open it, and in doing so had created a drain for the void to empty into. In effect the Realm they had come from would leave a doorway open, so that its native could return home. The Voids trick, was to corrupt that native before it went back, so it could set the beacon for the next journey. Without that beacon, it would have to expend energy for no effect, hoping it could avoid a realm it had already consumed, and reach a new realm. Send them back before the void could corrupt them, and it would close the door and end the threat..

The cost of keeping that secret, had eroded much of who those that knew it were. Sei had eradicated an entire portion of his mind, forcing it to exist in the empty portions of Seth’s own. Aislinn had been reduced to a mere child in terms of cognizance, the strong willed woman she had once been snuffed out. Talen and Taka bore their duties with a stoic silence, forced to expend their lives in suicide mission after suicide mission until they had been killed by the void. All that had remained was the shattered fragments of a mind in Seth’s head.

Those fragments had slowly driven the Lavinian Demon insane. It was a slow decline and Seth could see it for what it was, death. Seth couldn’t keep the lines of thought straight and eventually he had devolved into a gibbering mess. To hide the truth from the others he turned to drinking more and more. It was an easy lie to keep up, telling the others that the loss of his family was the cause. Sarah suspected, even if she did not say, but when he came to her the last night of his sanity she agreed that the truths in Seth’s head were far too dangerous to allow to be spilled out. So, the intoxication he was subjected to was the last hammer blow on the tenuous grasp of who Seth was.

Until now.

It had been a lucky gamble, but a necessary one none the less. Seth planted a piece of his own soul inside the Titan gifted to him by Xsenjen. If Broxsam had any inkling of what that would entail he didn’t show it. It did however give the titan a sentience that had linked the two in a bond. Broxsam probably had tried to destroy it when Seth had set it free in the wild, but apparently some of Seth’s cunning had transferred with the shard of Lavinian’s soul still inside. This allowed it to remain in hiding, until now…

The fight had cause Seth’s soul to wax strongly, for only Seth could brutally murder and fight. Sei’s mind was far less the warriors and more of an officers. With the waxing of Seth’s soul came a moment of clarity when his soul resonated with the shard imbedded in Shaxliod, his personal Titan. The irony of betraying Xsenjen through his own gift had tickled Seth pink when he crafted this part of the plan. Really he was just happy his thoughts on how everyone would react had been right. If Revan was not so desperately sought after, had Sarah not been diplomatic enough to gain their trust. Had anything of a million things gone wrong, the plan could not work. The fact he was able to not only act out his part of the plan crafted so long ago, but think while doing so, had relieved him greatly.

And so here he was, climbing up the life stream, lockets of hair from the two women in his life that mattered in his very hands. He could feel the rage the void engendered in him and clamped down on it, he would have a use for that hatred soon enough. Even now the titan continued to climb before everything went bright. Shielding his eyes Seth smirked as he said firmly, “Cesarino, you are an absolute son of a bitch, but gods be damned if you don’t do good work…”


~*~

“Grid is operating within safe tolerances. Cannons have opened fire. We have made sure to weed out anything within a few feet of Baron Dahlios from viable targets. If it moves beyond that zone of safety it becomes flagged as a priority target,” The report came swiftly as Jared smirked at the act of the Baron of Revan, even as he looked out the window and saw the rise of the Lavinian Demon.

He finally turned back to Sarah and shrugged, “Looks like I owe you a few bottles of ale when we get back. You were right to bring him with us…”

“You know he wouldn’t have forgiven me if I left him out of this. Death, carnage, chaos it was always his home. Especially after Liliana and Samantha died, he lost any touch with the others. You’re lucky he left firm instructions, or I would have had you executed for treason years ago…” Sarah replied idly from her throne.

Jared clucked his tongue, “Well then, good thing he did, eh? Such a waste by the way, such a beautiful body and you won’t let me have a taste…”

“Samantha and Liliana are not for your pleasure. Ask again and I will have you confined to your labs in chains,” Sarah replied a thread of thinning patience in her voice.

“Seth would have let me…” Jared replied.

“I remind you, though we are from the same soul, I am not Seth Dahlios…”

“Even still, care to double down on that bet? I don’t think the old man has enough sanity to get anything done up there…do you?”

“I think Seth will surprise you. I would be foolish not to take you up on that bet…”


~*~

Silence reigned as the Void Lord’s dead form cooled upon whatever passed a floor in Mortarions gate. Jensen was shocked to silence as voidling finished its unholy absorbing of the last of Xsenjen’s essence. When he stood his lips curled into a smile as he spoke, “At last, he gave in the last bit of his heart to the void. With that he damned himself to an eternal existence as nothing…”

Already the corpse of Xsenjen was twisting in upon itself curling and folding as the dark energies it had steeped itself in began to grow and claim more territory. Finally it began a common soldier moving towards Jensen with a hunger all its own. Whatever had been left of the Void Master was erased in it’s new purpose as a servant of the void. King had been deposed by servant and in its wretched existence only the hate it had left in it’s heart was what fueled it. Jensen jumped back clearly confused as he muttered, “Shit keeps getting creepier and creepier. I don’t get any of this crap!”

“Those who know nothing, can understand, nothing,” Broxsam said sagely, before a huge hand slapped down squashing the form that had once been Xsenjen. Broxsam raised an eyebrow at the forceful display before the form of a titan entering the arena could be seen. Broxsam hissed angrily at the beast as he shouted, “I told you to fight down below! There is no reason for you to be here!”

Then the other hand rose above the floor.

Seth stood stoically in the hand of the titan his long hair pulled back in some semblance of the Lavinian Thief’s former life. Though the thief would have preferred to keep his hair short, there was no doubt in Jensen’s mind that Seth had managed to claw his way to the top of this battlefield, just as the boogeyman was adept at showing up where the important fights were happening. Seth merely turned to the Titan before he said softly, “Thank you Shaxliod, its time to rest…”

Broxsam’s eyes flew wide as he rushed towards the Lavinian Demon who reached deep within the Titan’s chest, before with a rough yank two pieces of metal clattered to the floor. Seth watched as the titan dissolved, causing Broxsam’s charge to falter as both watched the Titan become destroyed with the loosening of the objects that bound it to Seth’s will were removed. In the act of doing so, Seth had regained the pieces of himself he was missing. Carefully Seth lifted up the daggers, Ebony and Ivory and turned to Broxsam before he spoke, “You, have many a sin to pay for. Let’s dance asshole…”

Blades deftly twisted into life in Broxsam’s hands as the two went at it, full carnage. Seth’s chains moved as an extension of the Lavinian’s will as they added to the deadly dance between the two of them. Blade flashed on void as Broxsam began his mental attack on Seth, “How in the world did you get this past me?”

“You’re easy enough to dupe, if a half wit titan can hide my dagger’s from you…” Seth returned. Pushing himself further a blade flipped into the air as Broxsam tried to take advantage of the opening. Blade pierced dark skin before a cry of pain left Broxsam’s lips. He growled out before redoubling his efforts purposefully pushing himself to move faster as Seth clucked his tongue in mockery, “Please, speeding up? That’s the easy way out Broxsam!”

Perfect form met flawless defense as they went through every single trick in the Lavinian’s trade. Broxsam grinned as he said, “You’re tiring Dahlios, I can see it in your eyes. Besides the longer this fight goes the more I learn from what those daggers were. I can feel how they were used. I know how you fight, this is only going to end in your loss…then Liliana and Samantha, will have died for nothing.”

A damn burst in the demon as he began to spit vitriolic words. His eyes narrowing to slits before he spat, “I will burn the flesh from your bones and grind you unto dust. I will sear your soul into nothing and still, and still you will not have paid enough. I will put you out of my misery!”

Black energy coursed along the blade as Seth let Broxsam impale him. The black blades cut through the trench coat’s back as the Lavinian gripped the voidling by the throat. Eyes locked in a deadly duel of wills as Seth began to hiss, “I knew when I sent Liliana out on that routine run that she would die. I let her go, because I knew I had to keep you complacent. I had to keep you thinking I was a moron you could dupe. I hated you since I met you, and I knew what you were from the start!”

Black energy crackled and surged over Broxsam as he cried out hoarsely in pain as Seth continued his hold on his hate, fueling malice with every ounce of energy from his fading body, “Samantha’s death was the hardest. The girl never wanted this life. She only wanted to explore the world. She wanted to meet her Prince Charming, like her mother had. She didn’t want to be the daughter of the worlds most reviled criminal! When she died, I knew it was you who had caused that titan to go berserk. It was your fault she was in the path of carnage, because you had told it to kill her. It was no freak accident, you planned it from the start, to get me to give in to the void!”

Broxsam let out another hoarse cry as Seth poured the hatred the void had thrust upon him into the spell. The spell began to magnify the effect as Broxsam cried out in anguish, even as Seth growled lowly, “And for Aislinn, the Scarlet Witch, who could have put an end to this. We had to go into her mind while she slept. She was set to marry some one from the Knights of the Apocalypse the next day. Imagine his shame when he found out his betrothed was nothing more than a simpering fool. You ruined her life so we could prevent you from destroying this fucking realm!”

“Taka and Talen, you ruined their lives too. Slowly at first, but you kept upping the ante, forcing them to try against harder and harder odds. Jokes on you asshole, you killing them protected this last ditch effort to kill your fucking ass. I don’t care if I die here today I will pour my life into this spell, I hate you and all you stand for, even if I have to erase the void itself to get rid of you!” Broxsam groaned as another wave began to cause Broxsam to shimmer, losing the hard edges that defined where he was. He let out a cry of panic as he saw the spell was working.

Seth tried to focus even as blood continued to pour from the thief. He staggered a step, losing steam as he poured more and more energy into the spell. Malice was hard under the best of circumstances, and impaled upon Broxsam’s swords was anything but. As he groaned he looked at Voidling and continued, “Sei and I gave up on our lives to pull this off, and even if it kills me I’ll…” He shook his head as he continued his hold on the spell. Everything was fading as he pushed himself harder and harder. Energy began to fade from Broxsam’s form as the voidling realized what was happening. True to Seth’s word, the Lavinian Demon was dying. Still Seth spoke, now seeming to ramble as he spoke, “The last words Sei ever said to me were, every key has a door, and some doors, should remain…shut…”

“Oh Seth, it was a good effort. By far the closest anyone has gotten to actually stopping us. It was a good try, go to your family, comfort them in the afterlife. We’ll be along soon to erase you all, but take solace in the few moments you have left. Say hello to them, let them know you failed to stop this, but at least you put up a good effort…” Broxsam replied as with a cruel chuckle his form solidified and he kicked Seth off his blades. Flicking the blood from his blade he looked upon Jensen before he said, “Right, now where were we?”

[The Soulforged]

"Well, let's go Big Bro," Fir muttered as she stood by her older brother. The two looked down the ladder that would take them to the area the World Canon's heart. Steam, oil, and magic hissed at the intruders as they peered down the ladder, and gave each other a nod.

"Yeah," Seed whispered back, doing his best to hide the terror in his voice. In all honesty, all he wanted to do was cut and run. Every fiber of his being, ever ounce of emotion within him told him that if he went down that ladder, he would not come back. He so desperately wanted to run, but that simply was not an option.

He was, after all, the older brother. It was his duty to watch after his little sister, no matter what.

He went first, as was expected of him. He ignored all the warning signs, all the terror in his heart, and flew down the ladder before him. His skin was instantly assailed by a fierce heat; sweat began to form around his body. He ignored it all, and held out his hands.

"Wheee!" Fir shouted as she leapt past the ladder, not bothering to even worry about the landing. After all, her big brother was down there. What could possibly happen when Seed was there? He would catch her, he would keep her safe. Just like he had since that night so long ago.

Blood. There's blood everywhere.

"We have to do this manually, there's no way to just punch a few buttons. We're going to cut the necessary wires, which will auto-unlock the hinges. Then, we have Karel open the bay doors," Fir whispered as the two siblings made their way through the machinery.

I'm scared. Where's Mom? Where's Dad?

"Then what? What happens next?" Seed asked. He had studied the airships blueprints just like he had every other one, but he was in no way an engineer. He only hoped he could keep up with his little sister.

There's a sickening noise, like bones being snapped, or maybe torn apart. Something rolls across the floor. It is wet. Fir's foot is standing in a wet substance.

"Well, Karel and the crew get the hell off this ship. Naturally, I being the genius I am, had the foresight to put in escape pods," Fir answered. How odd, her voice sounded exactly as it should at this moment in time. Just like one would expect an eight year old girl's voice to sound.

Utterly terrified.

She picks it up. Red hair. Blue eyes. Fir stares at the severed head of her mother. She screams.

"And us? What happens to us? Seed asked, though he can already guess the answer.

A roar of unworldly proportions echoes through the house. The shadows come for her. She can feel their gaze upon her, and see the glint of their sharp fangs.

"Well, we stay and finish the job. Once the bay doors open, we cut the last wires, forcing the world cannon to overload. Then, we drop it like a bomb. Suckers. They'll never see it coming!" Fir laughs a tiny laugh. Really, her words don't match her tone at all.

Her father bellows a curse at the darkness that claimed his wife. He charges forward fearlessly, wielding only a kitchen knife. The darkness bites down on him; the man's arm turns red. He doesn't care, he is possessed. He WILL kill the darkness.

"I see. Well, let's get to it then," is all Seed says. He doesn't need to hear it, both of them already know what will happen. Their fates were written the minute they entered this hellish room created from the mad dreams of Fir Northwind.

Her father forces his arm onward. It's mostly shreds, but he defies all logic. The shadow chomps down again on the man, but it's a useless gesture. The knife is already in the mouth, and the wreckage of bones and sinew push it onward, towards the shadow's brain.

"Cut the red wire, then the blue. Go two wires back, cut it. Tie that to the red wire," Fir orders. Her hands are small and deft, they work their way through the wires at amazing speed. Truly, without a doubt, no one else could possibly accomplish this task but her.

She screams. She screams again and again. She screams at the darkness. She screams at the blood. She screams and screams and screams.

His hands are nowhere near as deft or accurate. They are sloppy, they tangle the wires. He untangles them, desperately trying to keep up with his sister's orders. He cross the wrong wires. A burst of flame scars his hand. He grits his teeth. It's only a hand. He has two.

The father whispers something, but it is not for her. It is for someone else. Whoever it is gives a solemn nod.

A pipe burst. Dark gas billows into the machine room. The two ignore it, and continue to cut wires. The heat is swelters. Their clothes cling to their skin, practically burning. They ignore it. Ignore everything but each other.

She tells him what to do, he follows through.

Seed picks up his sister. The screaming stops. The crying begins. Fir cries and cries and cries. She cries all night.

The bay doors open. Close now, only a little while to go. The Machiavelli is shuddering. Is that the escape pods being fired away, or is that the ship itself complaining? No matter, only a little more to go.

Seed cares for her. Cares for her until the neighbors come over. Cares for her until the soldiers arrive. He is fine he says. Make sure Fir is okay. No, nothing is wrong with him. No one notices.

Seed crosses the wrong wire again. A sudden burst of something hits him. He's not sure what it was. Perhaps it was magic? Maybe some sort of exhaust expelled from the World Canon?

It's only natural to look after the eight year old girl. She's the focus of everyone's attention. That's okay. No problems there. She needs to be looked after. It doesn't matter that no one notices. It doesn't matter that all the while...

His face. He can't see out of his left eye. How bad is the damage? Does it even matter? He looks to his left; has to turn his entire head to do that. Fir's focused. Good. It's almost over.

...all the while...

The World Cannon lets out a shudder. Time to go. He calls to his sister. Perhaps, just maybe, if they hurry, they can get out of here.

...all the while...

"HELP!" she is screaming again. Just like before. What went wrong? Did another pipe collapse? Did the wall explode? No, it's that broken pipe billowing forth darkness. Ah, of course. That explains everything.

...he was crying too...

Seed and Fir wrap their arms around each other. They huddle together in the corner of the room, coughing and wheezing due to the lack of oxygen. Had they ran, they might have had a chance, but that didn't happen. Fir froze up, so Seed went back for her. It's not her fault; he doesn't blame her.

"Seed, it was dark!" the eight year old girl screams. She is terrified of the darkness.

"Don't worry," Seed whisperers back, "I'll protect you."

The Machiavelli gives one last shudder of defiance.

"Because that's what older brothers do," Seed whispers as he hugs Fir tightly amidst the smoke and flames, "they look out for their little sisters."

In the end, it looks like Karel sacrificed him too.

"Just like Father wanted me too..." Seed says in a hushed voice. Fir and Seed close their eyes, and let the darkness take them.

[orphans]

"We're retreating?!" Azza screamed over the roar of the battlefield as she held herself back to back with Paul.

"Felicity just got the order from the Machiavelli. They're dropping something massive and we need to get out, now!"

A hurried glance around told Azza all she needed to know. The lines had long since collapsed and what remained were pockets of desperate resistance. Some groups intentionally moved deeper in an effort to give the others a few precious seconds of longevity. King David, the Orlouge sisters, and Lucifer had long since cleaved a path back to the command tent with their respective soldiers to shore up defenses and to reestablish communication.

That left Paul's and Azza's remaining combat groups at the vanguard hacking at the advancing waves of echoes. "We can't just leave!" was what Azza yelled out in aggravation as she partially sliced a soldier in two. She wasn't the brightest tactician in the world, but even she knew the survivors would never make it as a group without a distraction.

Paul gritted his teeth as he lashed out at an approaching Legionnaire with his battleaxe. A quick glimpse of his face told Azza he thought the same. They had begun to lose sky supremacy as the echos changed their tactics to simply ramming ships. Worst of all, the void didn't just seem to have endless resources. It practically did while the resistance forces could only stall the tide for so long. "My wolves and I will stay as a diversion. Get your group and link up with the others."

Azza was silent save for her grunts of exertion as she continued to swing a claymore she had found after her arm regenerated, again. In fact while others around her seemed to be tiring out, Azza's pacing had increased as if to make up for their lack of energy. "I'll stay."

Paul kicked away an echo before shouting back, "This isn't up for debate Azza!"

Running another soldier through and then jerking the blade out, Azza spat back bitterly, "You're obligated to follow orders as your king is still alive and to you have to ensure he stays as such." In her momentary distraction another echo tackled her midsection. However, Azza only became enraged and slammed a fist through one of its bulbous yellow eyes. "I am the leadership for my men and I'm passing that onto you. Keep them alive!"

"Don't be stupid Azza you can't hold them alone for long!" Yet, as he bellowed those words, they fell on deaf ears.

Azza said nothing in reply and instead strode forward to meet the oncoming onslaught. Looking back with only a prideful grin at Paul, she cast herself toward the enemy with a great leap and battle cry. As she did, her body and armor became aglow with a brilliant cerulean while her sword encased itself in white flame. Upon colliding with a surprised Legionnaire, it dissolved in a burst of light that seared the flesh of nearby soldiers.

Landing, Azza chanced one last look behind her to see the reluctant retreat of those she left behind. She was too far now for anyone to help her. Gritting her teeth together, Azza prepared herself as she whispered softly to the wind, "Guess I'll see you soon, Jensen..."

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen looked to the two dead bodies before him, horror and confusion masterfully sculpted onto his face. Broxsam merely looked to the dead form f Seth Dahlios before kicking the corpse off into the hole that led to the battle below. The body was swept up in the breeze of free falling, twirling like a dancer as it collapsed into the clouds, out of sight.

“The truly mighty have a long way to fall, don’t they?” Broxsam whispered to Jensen with whimsy. He turned to face the immortal, eyes looking to the man who orchestrated the events perfectly. Jensen’s eyes scanned him, watching the void drip from his body like he were made of a slime. “The world’s hope…collectively assigned to one area where with a breath of fear it will be released, and the void will claim this world as their own!”

“Why?” Jensen asked, puzzled as he lifted his weapon forwards, swiping the air before him in confusion. “What is the point of all this?!”

“Well, a story cannot be told unless somebody understands the beginning,” Broxsam created a large chair behind the immortal, and in the blink of an eye the void dweller was in front of Jensen, pushing him backwards so he sat. “It began, as everything usually does, where time began. You see, the universe itself is made up of slivers of power; gods, magic, rituals, all are expressions of two secular facts: A light and a Dark. Before anything existed, before the universe was born, there was only infinite blackness. The Void.”

Broxsam lifted his hands upwards to the heavens, letting the light shine upon him as he turned to Jensen. “The Void cannot exist upon itself. The force of its own power is not self-sustaining, and weak. It was sadly inevitable, but the Void eventually consumed itself. In the feeding of its own self core, the light was born. A rumbling of power that sparked creation! The light cast illumination upon a galactic plane, and swarmed everywhere! Naturally, this light burned so bright…”

The illuminating rays of the sun began to shrink on Broxsam, enfolding itself to create shadows all over the plane where Void Creatures began to spawn. The Light, self-aware of this problem created a solution.: The light needed to feed off the darkness, and the darkness needed to feed off the light. An eternal snake, eating itself. What madness an existence it was!”

“You…you are the Void?”

“Correction Jensen Ambrose,” Broxsam tutted. “The Vid isn’t a single being…but everything in one! The absence of the light IS the Void. You know f our origins, now hear of our fall! The Light, ever a force to be reckoned with, made itself shimmer and grow without our feeding. The Light wanted to create and grow, and all we wanted was to consume and be left alone. The war of heaven is the only way to describe such an epic confrontation. The darkness battled with the light, the light clashing with the darkness creating life and death! The concepts of the universe itself was born in conflict with two endless masses! Neither will give but take endlessly! The war created many ripples of the conflict, ripples that some lunatics theorize to be universes.”

Jensen looked to Broxsam as if he was insane.

“Each ripple of our war created an alternate facet of the universe for a split second before the light or the darkness consumed it back for power. The fight never ended for eons! Your gods fighting was like children playing with toys compared to our struggles! Yet the stalemate was eventually broken. The light rippled the universe into many, and did something we had not expected. It created the Prism of Life; the eternal source of unending light. Each ray of the prism kept the universe we created open, and the Void poured through like a cancer to snuff it out. However we soon realized that we spread ourselves thin, the light able to keep the Void at bay. And so the Prism would shut behind us, letting us consume a universe and stagnate there.”

Broxsam stood in front of Jensen, looking at the immortal with eyes filled with no emotion once so ever. He merely stated this story as fact, and took no umbridge that forces of the Light crushed the Void. He turned back to the battle below, hands clasped behind his back as the Void continued to consume the world around them.

“The final piece to the origin of the Void is that we learned the Light fed off another source of power. Billions of forms of life all had concepts of one single thing. And do not be so flippant to think love or such other human based emotions are the cause. No, it’s a universal tone, one that anyone can feel,” Broxsam paused as he watched a sky titan crash into an airship, the explosion like a small balloon popping.

“Hope,” Jensen whispered. Broxsam nodded slowly.

“We learned the Light feeds upon Hope, for everyone, good or bad, flawed or perfect, can experience hope. Hope is a driving force for much of the energies of life. To survive, to thrive! That which the light feeds upon. The Void however, had learned that the antithesis of the concept of hope was equally allowed to be felt in all races or forms of life. The absence of that hope, the cancer it leaves behind when the thing that drives your existence is gone; despair. The complete surrender of your entire being to the concept of futility. The Void feeds upon that darkness created and uses it to power itself. And so our game with the Light began anew. But we had a problem. Each universe was separate from us, and we couldn’t reform to fight the light directly again. Even if we snuffed out the whole universe of hope, it wasn’t enough to break the Prism of Life. We would stagnate and die at this rate; so the Void learned a new trick.”

“Broxsam turned to Jensen. “You see, to defeat this world and destroy it…no that’s not enough. We need keys as you call it to open the doors to the Prism of Life, and allow us to travel and collect ourselves. We grow with each conquered path, and continue to form until we find the divine essence of the Void, the heart of Darkness itself; the prime universe where this all began. With that, we can crush the Prism of Life, and feed eternally again.”

“Xsenjen,” Jensen whispered. “He was your portal into this world!” Broxsam smiled, nodding his head.

“In another universe, it was Cassandra Remi, in another, Sheex Deltin, in another, some man named Icabob, or a woman named Lois. The universe as a whole matters not, for we find a source of despair, feed it, cultivate it, give it the power of the Void, and grow upon your world until we eat the last of hope. But you see, we cannot finish off the universe without first finding the portal to the next world.”

“Mortarion’s Gate! It’s not just a portal to the realm of the dead…”

“It’s the portal to anther universe. Where we find someone who can drag open the portal so we can seep in. Yet we must first find the chosen of light who connects the points of the universes. Someone who links himself to a specific choice that would garner enough despair to create two alternate timelines. In your case it was you and Xsenjen.”

“So by me being here, and staying,”

“You endangered the lives of your own universe.” Broxsam replied.

[Quentin Boone]

Enigmatic Immortal receives:

4571 EXP
286 GP


orphans receives:

2080 EXP
195 GP


Silence Sei receives:

754 EXP
39 GP


Zantetsuken receives:

480 EXP
65 GP


The Soulforged receives:

286 EXP
39 GP


Requiem of Insanity receives:

316 EXP
26 GP


Disillusioned receives:

286 EXP
39 GP


Sheex receives:

338 EXP
39GP


Dissinger receives:

220 EXP
13 GP


KOA receives:

572 EXP
78 GP


Congratulations!

[Philomel]

Many apologies from the Judgement Staff for the lateness of this judgement and also the fact it is a No Judgement, rather than a Basic Judgement. Please see below for an overall comment on Weaknesses and Strengths.

Strengths:
Overall, as a large group of writers you did manage to write proifically well together and tell a story that had a certain congruent flow. It also has an enticing plot, and an attention-grabbing sense that gave the reader a desire to keep going.
In certain good places, primarily in the middle, there was a good charming amount of description that kept the story alive and interesting.
A really good, precise conclusion that gave way to a whole host of possibilities in concern with Jensen Ambrose. Well done Enigmatic Immortal for starting and ending, and all the others in helping out with telling his tale.
Lastly, very good simple and clear, yet enticing title.

Weaknesses:
There are certain unfortunate points were paragraphing falls below standard, and this can distract from the good effort of the entire piece. It is useful for a reader to be able to read at ease and not have to jump around, and sometimes the poor paragraphing and the change in sudden tone disallows for this.
All in all the story itself seemed a little too long, and with so many writers it is understandable why it gets so, but it could have broken up into two or more other stories, all with their own sets of various characters. It was rather difficult to follow because of this.
There could have been more use of metaphor and other linguistic techniques, but all in all it was strong.

[Lye]

EXP & GP Added.