Prologue.
Eons of eons ago, the quite inadequately named God of stuff was created. Some say that he popped up out of thin air, but that was mere slander as air wasn’t invented before the God of stuff. However, he was formed and he went on to create hundreds upon thousands of universes, which he compiled into a structure called the multi-verse. All of the universes lived happily in cohabitation.
Time passed.
The God of stuff, now known as the Original decided that he alone could not look over these universes and created smaller, less powerful deities to watch over each universe. He also created a being that was on the same power level as him, in case anything went wrong. He unimaginatively named this being Prototype.  It was a peaceful time.
Until the wars...
The universes began to fight under the deities’ orders, striving to become the most powerful universe with the most powerful God. The Original smiled and let them get on with it, too sentimental and caring to intervene. So, Prototype created the void, and used the void’s power to separate the universes. The Original discovered Prototype’s treachery and created the light blade and the shadow blade, forcing the shadow blade into the void. He also made Prototype into a shadow God, thus the light blade kept him in the void. The Original tried to undo Prototype’s handiwork, but this only led to different religions ending up in different universes. 
Prototype had his revenge soon...
Original delved into the depths of the void, unsuspecting the new changes. It had a population of what appeared to be shadows and the Original was not in control of his movements. Prototype found him, and challenged him. The Original, growing used to the alternate physics, agreed as he had grown in power. However, Prototype had been destroying entire universes using his shadowy minions and by tricking the populace of those universes. He absorbed the universes power, growing in his strength. He easily defeated the Original and shattered his soul. However, the soul was strong and possessed one of the shadows in the void, who was finding himself questioning Prototype’s reign before. He freed the souls from Prototype’s dark grasp, sending the shadow and the souls into the multi-verse at random. This shadow is thought to be the messiah.
His name was Trexor.
And after this, Prototype invented chess.
Genesis 1:1, the First Order’s Proti  

The Lost Legend
Eons ago, the Greek god of the underworld, Hades hatched a daring plan to steal the powers of all of the other Olympian Gods in revenge for him ruling only the dead. This plan was so sudden and brilliant, that it almost worked.
Almost.
Wishing to gain the powers of the gods, he forged an item called the Cornopticus. Then, he gathered A DNA sample from all of the gods. This was done by Hades’s suggestion of a mandatory nose-hair shaving. Eventually, the male gods had their nose hair trimmed, with exception of the goddess’s and Helios, who appeared to be unable to grow facial hair due to a disorder he had contracted during puberty. Hades then transferred the DNA into the Cornopticus. 
But, there was a fatal flaw in his plan. Helios, god of the sun, witnessed Hades telling his most faithful servant about the Cornopticus.  He hurried to tell Zeus. After gathering an army of demi-gods, he set them on Hades under Helios’ command. Hades, with no extra power, slaughtered the demi-gods in an outburst of rage. Hades turned on Helios, and cast him out into deep space. Hades then stole a hair brush of each of the female gods, leaving him only without Helios’s powers.
This was too much for Zeus. In order to stop Hades, he held a communion with the other gods. However, Hades, believing that the Cornopticus had granted him the powers of the gods, interrupted the ritual and turned on the gods. Firstly, he faced his own brothers, Zeus and Poseidon. When they started using their god powers, Hades realized that something was wrong. Eventually, Zeus and the other gods defeated Hades and sealed him in the star at the centre of the universe.
After this attempt to gain power, Zeus put a curse on all who try to gain the gods power. It goes:
Anyone who tries to gain the power of the gods shall die. They shall hear three beats before they die, as a warning to make the remaining minutes of their life insufferable.   
However, due to the nature of legends, it got lost and become famously known as “The Lost Legend” and no-one believed it.  A few, however, believe it and believe that Hades’s servant still lives upon us, even now. 
Five hundred years ago
Trees burning, falling as the roots shrivelled up and died. People, innocent people screamed in fear as the forest burned and burned on the Adjeti planet, Buena. People tried to flee from the village, which was hidden deep inside the forest, but their escape was cut off when a tree fell, crushing a few and hindering the rest. One child managed to escape before the tree collapsed, and turned back in time to see the tree fall and crush his mother. The flames flickered in his deep blue eyes, giving it a tint of red as tears poured down his chubby cheeks. His father approached the tree and, knowing his fate, he yelled, “Son! Take our treasure and keep it safe!” He threw a sword over the tree and the child hurried to pick it up, holding it tight. His father’s tears ran unchecked before his final words, “I love you, my son!” before another tree crumbled and collapsed, trapping him between flames. The fire spat at him, burning and searing his flesh. The child could only watch as both his parents fell victim to the vicious flames. He turned away and held the sword tight, hugging it to his chest. A blue apparition appeared in front of him suddenly, startling him. A child’s natural curiosity took him up to the strange apparition, which grabbed him and disappeared...








































Day One: Departure And Arrival



































Chapter 1: Home And Away
One month ago… 
The Church of Cloud.
In a huge building, who knows where, a secret organization known only as “The church of Cloud” gathered here to witness the incredible. No one knew what this was, the email they received just said: Witness the incredible, a miracle, to be sure! Meet at the church of Cloud in three days’ time. Alucard.
 And so they did. The modern seats, which were able to withstand immense heat, physical violence and weight, were filled with strange people and things, which were also people but with various appendages, such as extra limbs and facial features, particularly noses. But they all had one thing in common: they were all using the Compumobob, which displayed a copy of their holy book. The seats also had food dispensers, but the dispensed food was truly vile and way too salty thanks to the sweat of the church goers that had seeped through the seats and into the food preservation area. The mass began with Alucard, the founder of the religion, singing a hymn to their god, Blue Cloud. He was known as the slave of Hades among the most devoted, yet he was often referred to as the destroyer. After the hymn, Alucard swept his purple cape back, revealing a thin, broken body, but despite this, he spoke with such immense power, that you would believe that he was some huge guy on steroids. This conviction made sure that his stunned audience listened and believed him. 
“People, you have gathered here today to witness the incredible miracle of which the destroyer shall bring us! Now, witness the ineffable will of Cloud!” Roaring the final sentence, he drew a knife and slashed at his wrists. Thick red blood dripped slowly onto the casket that he had in front of him, splashing on the dark ceramic surface. The casket was basked in a strange, unearthly blue light. The light detached itself from the casket and surrounded the stunned Alucard. It became a circle, with a deep black light at the centre. A portal.
A light appeared at the end of portal, which then formed the silhouetted forms of four humanoids...
A flame flickered in a candle at the back of the room and the fire leapt out of the room, while the silhouettes emerged and Alucard yelled, “The destroyer shall rise!”
Three weeks ago…
It crept around in the bleak darkness, around the pedestals of various exhibits, the stuffed, now-extinct animal’s eyes followed it past as it searched in the shadows for its desired artefact. Stalking through the ‘legends’ exhibit,  it found the craved item; a curled seashell-like object, seemingly full with some sort of liquid substance, but analysis told the scientists that it was hollow and empty. The shadowy figure picked up the Cornopticus, as was named by its mysterious legendary namesake, setting off alarm bells throughout the planetary museum known as the Musun. Guards came running at it, but it span, sending blue pulses of energy at the guards, throwing them at the concrete walls snapping their spines. It walked through the Musun, burning various exhibits; there must be no trace of the stolen object. After the Musun burned down, it handed the Cornopticus to a tall, dark master with skeletal hands, and then vanished into infinity. The dark master stood and turned the Cornopticus over and over in his hands. Its hood creased in some sort of stretched smirk… 
*
Now: Earth time 05:26
The planet Narcsard
The Milky Way galaxy was a beautiful sight that purveyed a sense of awe and wonder. On the eighth arm of this spiral galaxy laid a solar system. This solar system in question contained twelve planets, all of which orbited a sun called Vrenstar, named after the first overlord of the galaxy. The first six planets were uninhabited, due to immense heat which had long since melted any primitive ecosystem that the planet may have contained. The last five were also uninhabited, due to the fact that three were made of gas and the other two were too cold for any organisms to survive. Not even the Ichelon, who were known to thrive in conditions of -273 degrees Celsius.
The planet between these uninhabited wastelands was inhabited by many different species of intelligent life forms. However, animal life did not come naturally to this planet, but due to the beauty of its forests and jungles, it attracted many to emigrate their and eventually the inhabitants built a city. However, this involved tearing down the forests that had attracted the people in first place, slowly making the planet deteriorate into a decrepit wasteland, with a total lack of natural beauty. Factories sprung from the jungles, spewing carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.
Earthquakes threatened lives daily as the planet tore itself apart. This caused many people to try and flee the planet, but most were stopped by a sudden exacerbation of the planets own electromagnetic field, causing ships to spin off and crash, or for their systems to fail completely. Now, however, one scientist managed to predict these exacerbations and he and his brother had left to pick up supplies whilst their friends were about to leave. They wanted to find a planet which was almost as beautiful as this planet used to be. There were only two: Alpha Minor and Earth. They chose Earth, because the life forms were similar to their species.
The first of these aliens was called Tors. A master fencer, he was a human with extraordinary strength for his size. He was waiting for the others outside his ship. Suddenly, the wind started to pick up, unsettling him.  Instantly alert, his blue eyes narrowed and he turned quickly towards the door. “Who’s there?” he called enquiringly.
Laughter erupted from the doorway and Tors’ companion, Hurricane, leapt through, bent over with laughter. “That gets you every time, man,” he chuckled, “you should’ve learnt by now.” He clapped Tors on the back and led him away from the ship, as though it might hear what he had to say. “Look, are you sure you want do this?”
A fire blazed in Tors’ eyes. “Yes,” he stated, “I’m sure.”
Humph, Tors thought, Trust Hurricane to make a big entrance. Hurricane seemed like an ordinary human on the outside, dark of skin with his black hair slicked back, but in actual fact, he was a meta-human from Carnizorn 6. His Meta power was control of the wind, hence the nickname “Hurricane”.
Strolling over to the ship, Hurricane held out an open palm and watched a miniature tornado swirl in his hand. When he reached the ship, the hand clenched, crushing the storm. He repeated this five, maybe six times before finally giving in to his impatience. “Where the hell is everybody else?”
“Incision and Insectiron are meeting us after the meeting,” Tors replied, “but I have no idea where Emola is?”
“Did I hear…?”
“Oh god,” groaned Hurricane.
“Did I hear … Emola?”
“Get in ‘ere, Emola, ya friggin’ drama queen.” called Hurricane frustratedly. 
“Fine,” moaned Emola, sidling into the room, slouching with misery. A one-time actor, the human, Emola never quite gave up the insanity that you need if you wish to be an actor.
“Emola!” called Tors, rushing over to him, arms outstretched.
“Tors,” Shouted Emola enthusiastically, “How ya been, old bean?” They briefly hugged, clapped each other on the shoulder and released.
“Fine. You?”
“Never better.”
“Now if you two’ve finished ya mothers meetin’s,” Hurricane stepped down from the ship’s ramp in a white pilots uniform. He twisted his white cap to the side and yelled, “Let’s get moving!” They got moving and soon the ship was in orbit around the planet Buena. This was where the overlord of the galaxy resided, deep in thought about the galaxy’s problems. “Hey, Tors, you ‘eard about the overlord? ‘Pparently he’s an Adjeti,” called Hurricane from the pilot’s seat.
“Yeah, ‘pparently he’s got the snake armour on under the robes.”
“Wow,” proclaimed Emola.
The Adjeti were an ancient tribe of humans who inhabited Buena centuries ago. These humans gained the power to open their soul and commune with nature, or even the deities themselves. They had fearsome looking gold snakes grafted to their arms, which they could bring to life and used in contact. Some people believed that they still walked among us today.
The planet Buena
 Earth time 06:59
The overlord’s castle was a stereotypical image of a palace. There were many golden spires and minarets, rising up into the sky, piercing the very heavens.
Hurricane landed the ship smoothly down on one of the circular golden landing platforms, which were seemingly suspended in mid-air. It touched down with expert precision, silent as the wind. He smiled to himself, secretly proud of what the others would not notice. It was then wiped clean by a look of confusion, which distorted his handsome features.  “Tors,” he called enquiringly, “’ow the ‘ell do we get off this platform?”
“Why don’t you come with me?”
Everyone in the ship jumped as the grating voice erupted through the inter-shuttle communication system, normally used to communicate from ship to ship. After this , you can only imagine their surprise when, hydraulically hissing, the ships ramp slid down to reveal an impressive humanoid shape silhouetted against the light of Buena’s twin suns (a remarkable sight, I must say.).  “C’mon! I’ve gotta take you to see the lord. Or have you got any more of my time to waste?” He moved slightly to the left side and his muscular features were revealed; clad in black thin armour which followed his muscles. Silver blades protruded from his elbows, tips coated with a dreadful red substance. His face was hidden behind a silver helmet, complete with a black visor, revealing none of his facial features.
After seeing this menacing figure, Tors, Emola and Hurricane were quite eager to do as he said. The bewildered crew followed the towering figure to the very edge of the platform. “Oh, good work,” remarked Hurricane sarcastically under his breath. The figure turned swiftly and lifted him by the neck, the hand crushing his windpipe.
“If you think that you can do any better,” he whispered menacingly, “then go ahead,” he gestured at the empty air, “hurry along.” 
Hurricane gulped very audibly. “No sir, sorry sir.” He stammered nervously.
The figure dropped him on the cold hard ground in a heap and enunciated clearly, “Foton here, open up.”
And as he finished that short sentence, a golden pathway extended from the palace itself and connected to the platform. As Foton led the others into the palace, he would never have dreamed that something in the shadows was following…
*
After the long trek to the palace, the perfectly balanced golden gates swung open at Foton’s lightest touch. “When the platform is extended, even a child could easily open these gates.” He explained gruffly. Tors, Emola and Hurricane looked around in awe as a shadow with no body went further into the palace…
*
“Send Naarl in,” came a muffled voice from an intercom in Tahkshi’s guest room. At once, a timid, stooped old man rose and hobbled to the door.
The door to Tahkshi.
He entered and sat on a deep red throne-like seat while Tahkshi stood at the other end of the room, shrouded in shadows. “So, Naarl, you have a new prophecy for me?” Tahkshi requested, a strong yet somewhat calm voice booming out of the young caring face.
“Y-yes,” stammered Naarl, “but you won’t like it.”
“I don’t care, say it anyway.”
“W-well, here goes.” He arranged himself into the lotus position, closed his eyes and spoke harshly, a strange contrast from his normal speaking voice. “Many shall descend on earth today. Five for peace, five to search and four to destroy. They will all clash over the sword. In three days, seventeen eleven, local time, one shall fall in battle and in four days, six shall fall. But first, the gods will die by His crushing hand. He shall rise and bring about the end of everything.”
Tahkshi’s eyes widened with fear, “The sword… I presume He is…”
“Yes, so do I. Another disturbing fact is the one constant thing going on and on in the time stream. The three beats.”
“But th-that means-”
“The three beats are what people hear when they are going to die. If these are in the space-time continuum…” he trailed off, unsure of how to end the sentence Tahkshi had been dreading.
“Then everything shall come unto death.” finished Tahkshi grimly.
*
“Just up ‘ere now,” called Foton, who was currently standing at the top of the fifty second flight of stairs. He looked down at the wheezing forms of Tors, Hurricane and Emola. A cruel smirk crossed his face. “Oh, my apologies,” he said cruelly, “I just remembered about the elevator on the first floor.”
Looks of dismay crossed their faces.
“Well, next time, don’t insult me,” remarked Foton smugly.
Tors and Emola turned and glared viciously at Hurricane, who had subsequently gone a deep red.
“Hey, wassat?” yelled Emola indignantly.
“What now?” whined Foton impatiently.
“I saw something move!” shouted Emola, pointing ecstatically at the wall.
Foton roared with laughter, “you idiots and your imaginations.” He turned away and carried on striding into Tahkshi’s guest room while Tors, Emola and Hurricane followed, slowly and stooping before eventually sinking into red velvet armchairs in the waiting room. A timid stooped old man walked out of Tahkshi’s room and sat down looking forlorn. Hurricane glanced and She appeared. She seemed to radiate a golden glow around her. All life seemed meaningless to him as her golden-blond hair swung, just like her slender hips. “Pandora,” Hurricane called. 
She walked over as a goddess would walk, shaking her hips like a temptress. Her long golden hair flowed behind her in the breeze emitted from the open windows. She blew him a kiss and whispered, “Meet you in New York.” Then she walked out of the room, leaving Hurricane confused. 
“Who are you talking to, Hurricane?” Tors asked.
“Pandora. She’s over there.” Hurricane replied haughtily.
“No. she’s not.” Tors said. Pandora was Hurricane’s girlfriend. She was an odd one. No-one apart from Hurricane had ever seen her in full living flesh, only in photographs. Sometimes Tors thought that Hurricane was insane, or just sad, having invented a girlfriend to photo shop into his life.
“Party of three to see overlord Tahkshi.” came the muffled intercom, followed by a high pitched beep. Tahkshi’s reinforced steel door slid open, taking refuge in the wall beside it. 
And so the party of three went forth to meet their ultimate, final destiny.
*
The overlord's meeting room was, in a word, magnificent. The deep red carpet lay unblemished; no dirt lay upon it. Tahkshi's desk was made of some sort of gold metal, too shiny to be real gold. There was four, red velvet chairs in the centre of the room, all facing the desk. Tors, Emola and Hurricane sat nervously on them, feeling awkward in the beautiful surroundings. Beads of sweat ran down Tors' face. He wiped them away with his dark green sleeve. Foton stood defensively at the door, staring down at the trio like a dog guarding its territory. 
Standing behind the desk was a human. Clad in blood red robes, he turned to face them, the bright light emanating from the Chrystal chandelier illuminating his perfect features, gentle and caring. But deep within his water-blue eyes, there was a hidden power radiating from him; a power which made many fear and respect him as the Overlord. This was Tahkshi.
"Well? What do you want?" he asked calmly, yet assertively.  
 "W-we wish for your permission to leave this dynasty and l-live on Earth." stammered Tors.  
"How many?"
 "Me, him, him and two others, so five, but-"  
“Five?” Tahkshi turned on him, fire dancing in his eyes. Naarl's words echoed back to him, "Five for peace, five to search and four to destroy." Well, at least they weren't who he was expecting.            
"Yes sir," Tors replied, "why?"      
Tahkshi turned and walked to the window, placing his hand and forehead on the pane and looked at the dulling skies. Storm clouds were in the distance. "Do you go there for peace...or to search?"  
  "For peace."               
 He sighed deeply and strode slowly back towards the table. "Then, be careful." he said sincerely, looking around the group, until his eyes rested on the gently glowing door.
"Foton-" he began, fear creeping into his normally calm voice.   
 "What?" replied a perplexed Foton.
  "Duck!" roared Tahkshi, but it was too late. The door exploded with a blue flash and flew off its hinges and swept Foton across the room, upending the desk. Foton rose bleeding heavily from his stomach. 
"Foton, get 'em outta here!" yelled the desperate overlord. 
"C'mon!" grunted Foton as he led Tors, Emola and Hurricane through what appeared to be a wall, which shimmered only slightly as they passed through it, leaving behind a trail of blood.
Tahkshi rubbed dirt from his eyes and looked around frantically. A man walked slowly into the room, but this was no ordinary man. Clad in black, all of his other features were obscured by a blue cloud of pure energy that surrounded him, always moving, flickering and crackling. "You," said Tahkshi, his voice dripping with malice, "the one who first heard Naarl's prophecy." This was no longer the calm voice of an overlord, but the harsh cold voice of a warrior. The newcomer threw his head back and laughed maniacally. When he spoke, a shiver went down Tahkshi's spine. 
"Yes, Tahkshi. I am Blue Cloud. The destroyer. Summoned forth by Alucard, I have come to stop the Gathering." 
Tahkshi crossed to the window, muttering incoherently until he spoke quietly, “he who tries to help Hades shall hear three beats before he dies." he stamped once. Twice. Three times, then turned slowly on the spot and threw off his cloak. He wore a red sleeveless shirt with black buttons, which were the same shade as the casual trousers he wore. His arms, ending in red fingerless gloves, were what made Blue Cloud gasp. Grafted to each of the muscular arms was a red snake, winding around and up the arms until they reached his shoulder. Its mouth hung open, revealing sharp venomous fangs.   
“The Adjeti snake armour...”
“You have heard the beats,” proclaimed Tahkshi quietly, “you try to stop the Gathering." his voice grew louder, "you will die," his voice became a roar, "you will die today!" with that he raised a hand and lava leapt from his palm toward the newcomer...
*
Meditating on top of the topmost minaret of Tahkshi's castle was a slim being known only as the Master Eye. He found that, from an early age, if he meditated correctly while in the lotus position, he could see everything he wanted within a mile radius in a sort of filmstrip view. Right now, he was watching Tahkshi's guards put on camouflaged jetpacks and blast off towards the sky. Camo jetpacks? Really? He thought sardonically. Chuckling slightly, he mentally told one of his allies.
*
A blind man walked through the castle's corridors, his pace quickening. His dark grey cloak billowed behind him, causing him to seem inconspicuous in any surrounding. It covered his face, except his mouth, which was contorted with rage. This was no ordinary man. He heard the guards take off, heard the fuel tanks bubbling. He smelt their fear; it stung his nostrils. And the hidden dagger flew from the Blind Assassin’s sleeve.
*
The Master Eye watched as the blade connected with the fuel tank. Sparks flew out of the engine, like scared birds, and ignited the fuel. Consequently, the jetpack and guard exploded. Violent shockwaves spread out from the explosions epicentre, knocking the others out of the air. The assassin smiled thinly at the sound and walked back out of the room.
*
Dodging the lava, Blue Cloud sent a pulse of blue energy at Tahkshi, who pirouetted gracefully away and yelled, somewhat ungracefully, “Cloud! Stop this mad charade! You know that you cannot win.” His face was streamed with sweat, which followed the twisted contours on his face which was twisted with rage.
“Oh, really?” asked Blue Cloud drolly, “this is...” he drew a seven foot long, and at least a half foot wide, sword with a ruby encrusted hilt. One side of the blade was like an ordinary blade, the other a jagged mess of a puzzle, “the Theta Sword of life!” His eyes rolled back into his head, showing only the ghastly whites as he laughed maniacally once more. The Theta Sword acted as an amplifier, making the sound louder and louder until the windows of the castle shook and shattered. Tahkshi unclenched his teeth, or else the sonic power could shatter them. Ignoring the laughing maniac, he turned and looked at the needless destruction, open mouthed- and then Cloud was upon him, a serpent of destruction, hacking and slashing clumsily with the Theta Sword. Tahkshi rolled out of the way, clutching newly formed chest wounds, leaving a trail of blood along the carpet. Cloud swung again. Tahkshi closed his eyes and concentrated. The serpents on his snake armour leapt forth in a spectacular transformation from metal to flesh. They wrapped themselves around each other, forming a sword, albeit a living one. He parried Cloud’s lazy blow and sent him spinning through the air until he impacted on the wall. Things broke. Not the wall.
“How?” exclaimed Cloud in disbelief, “none can beat the power of the gods... unless-“
“Yes. The Beta Sword of nature has been passed down through us Adjeti for generations, ever since Zeus entrusted us with it,” interrupted Tahkshi triumphantly, “I have won. Surrender, or be killed. I need the Theta sword to seal the Hades gate.”
 Cloud stood shakily, using the remaining furniture to help him. He pointed a slender finger at him. Blue lightening leapt from his finger with a thunderous roar, “When hell freezes over!”
Tahkshi clapped his gloved hands together and a hurricane rushed from his fingertips and deflected the lethal lightening, spinning it round and around until finally it let the lightening go, sending it right back at Cloud. “Ha!” Tahkshi laughed, slightly cruelly, for he had the upper hand, “The Beta Sword of nature is sacred to the Adjeti as it increases our ability to commune with nature. Thus, you are out of league.”
*
The Master Eye watched as Foton emerged from the castle gates, dragging the three other humans behind him. The golden pathway was stretching out in front of them.
But for how much longer?
*
Stalking silently under the pathway was a man…thing known not by any species, but only as the Silent Creeper. Clinging on to the golden pathway, he felt subtle vibrations, coursing down from the opposite end of the pathway. It clung onto the pathway the same way a spider did; it had a web. From this tangled web, there was a steady beeping sound. The Silent Creeper spat a strange grass-green substance at the platform, which solidified on contact with the air and stuck onto the pathway tighter than any conventional adhesive. He then attached the slowly beeping bomb to the green putty-like substance and set a new time. A clock on the bomb’s front quickly began to tick forth.
Tick tock, thought the Silent Creeper, your time has come.  Then, it chuckled silently; the only sign of laughter was its head bobbing up and down vigorously.
*
Foton led the others quickly across the pathway towards the ship; a shining beacon of hope. Well not actually shining, it hadn’t been washed for years, but this point is irrelevant. Above the heavy sound of panting came an almost inaudible ticking.               
 Tick.
 Tock.
 Faster. 
"It’s a bomb!” roared Foton as he seized the others bodily by their collars and swung them across the pathway to the platform, like pebbles skimming along the surface of a lake, just as the pathway was consumed by a roaring ball of fire that sent Foton plummeting hundreds of feet to the ground below. Tears dropped to the platform in a bizarre funeral march as they heard the sickening crunch of Foton hitting the ground. They turned slowly and walked heads down, to the shuttle.
*
"Out of my league, eh?" Blue Cloud rushed forward, using the huge Theta sword to try and wound Tahkshi, who was not the least bit abated by this, merely taking a step back to avoid it. "such shoddy discipline," groaned Tahkshi, twirling his blade, "to a master like me, your clumsy attempts are slow motion," he twirled once more in a blur of red, and Blue Cloud's hand and blade dropped to the floor, spattered with blood, "and now," he struck across the throat, "you die." Cloud's head rolled slowly along the carpet, a macabre football in the game of death.  
  Tahkshi crossed to the broken window and stared intently out of it, taking in the destruction wreaked by Blue Cloud and his minions.       
Two loud, bone chilling cracks sounded from behind him. He turned.     
  Not fast enough...
*
The blind assassin and the silent creeper crept onto the topmost minaret where the master eye was waiting patiently. "Cloud will meet us back at the saucer." he turned to them, somehow more authorative. "Plant the bombs and get to the ship." a terrible glint caught his eye, "we're leaving."
*
As Hurricane lifted off, he witnessed destruction of Tahkshi's castle.  Tears streaked down his face, mirroring the chunks of gold streaking down the castle walls. His sorrow was soon replaced with anger, which was then shattered with the burning desire for revenge. The ship was silent; a mausoleum of sorrow. It approached another larger ship and docked with. The ships doors opened and two near identical twin aliens put their arms around their grief stricken friends and led them to their quarters.
*
Bones crunched under the wreckage of Tahkshi’s castle as a strange Entity moved slowly over the rubble. Shrouded in shadows, the only truly visible element of it was its eyes: two blood-red slits. He strode along carefully, looking at the destruction in what appeared to be dismay only discernable by changes of the Entity’s eyes. “Gather the Enforcers,” he ordered clearly, “We’re going to Earth…”  The flames behind him flickered and burned as four shadowy figures took their places behind him in a triangular formation. 
A formation of power, a formation of the explorers. 
A formation of war. 



Chapter 2: Department H
Earth time 09:03
The triangular ship sailed silently through endless lengths of space at the speed of light, covering millions of miles in a matter of minutes efficiently with a highly recommended hyperdrive maximus by Virincorparates, a business set up by Viretta, a famous female scientist who at the age of just twenty five was the richest inventor/scientist in the Milky Way. The interior of the ship was made of a metal called xuricen, an easily obtainable metal from the planet Dren. This shiny, thin yet dense element was plated over walls of complex and sensitive machinery such as the gravity inducer and the artificial atmosphere. There were five bed chambers, one for each crew member whilst at the very front of the ship's nosecone was the cockpit, in which Hurricane was sleeping with his feet up on the navigation systems, despite the fact that his chambers had been specially prepared for him. He snored quietly, not disturbing the peaceful surroundings. Insectiron, Incision and Tors were grabbing a sandwich in the ship's rest room. Insectiron and Incision were identical twins at birth, but Insectiron had dyed his hair a vivid red whilst Incision sported a few old battle scars from his days in the galactic army. Insectiron had a robotic hand courtesy of the local abattoir. Once at a fancy dress party, he dressed as a chicken and a mentally challenged worker from the abattoir spotted him and thought "ooh, look, giant chicken" and well, you can join the dots. Insectiron had also found the Lost Legend after excavating his neighbour's pet's excrements from his back garden. He now believed in it, even if others, henceforth, everyone else, laughed at him. Chatting noisily, the twins distracted Tors from the day’s event with random nothings.
Meanwhile, Emola was in the armoury, where a vast amount of weaponry was held behind a transparent wall of solid light. The room had been split into five; a section for each crew member. These weapons are just mementoes of the good ol' days he thought unless things get ugly. He looked at Tors’s section where his twin katana were held in place by a mesh of metal. Each katana had a brown leather handle. Above the swords stood a silver plaque; Tors’s latest fencing medal. He had lost out on first place to Tahkshi. Again. Under Incision's collection of army service medallions, was a mound of various handguns he had "borrowed" from the army. Insectiron's held only a slim battered rapier, which was known as his lucky rapier due to its miraculous ability to get him out of trouble when drawn. Hurricane's consisted of the two named pistols: blaze and ember. They were black pistols which were customised with painted red and orange flames and bullets that would take your head off. Emola fished a small golden key from his deep pocket and slid it neatly into the lock of his section. Click. As the glass door slid open, he took out of his pocket a small dagger that he had "borrowed" from Tahkshi's office. No bigger than an A4 sheet of paper, it glinted in the artificial light radiating from the strip lights on the ceiling. As Emola placed it beside his throwing knife he thought ah well. Tahkshi don't need this now, anyways.
In the cockpit, a loud beeping informed Hurricane of the entry into Earth's solar system whilst also serving as a more than effective wake-up alarm. Cursing, he noticed that, next to the nav-alert, there was a red flashing communications alert. Wondering why the others where, and I quote, "pissin' about with the com again" he pressed the flashing button, but instead of his companions voices, he was greeted by a harsh rendition of: "Oi! Why ain't this thing working? No, I don't give a toss about what you're doing, you fix this right now! No, it’s broken. Yes, I’m sure. What’s this light mean? Oh. Um...this is awkward. Hi...You can hear me, right?"      
 Tors, Emola and the insect twins came rushing in, curious of the origin of the shouting, to see Hurricane giggling into his fist. But, he was technically the ship’s captain, so the others gestured at him to speak to the unknown communicator. "Yeah who is this?" Hurricane asked, pressured into speaking.         
 "This, my friends, is the Church of Cloud. We're off to Earth and we were... wondering if you would like a ride. “The tone grew darker, "please say yes."                    
 "Cloud?" interjected Tors on a mere whim, "as in Blue Cloud, the guy who killed Tahkshi?" Silence followed suit as the com system winked off. However, this silence lasted approximately two point four five seconds until Emola yelled desperately, "they put a missile on us!" The others turned and glared a Tors, who subsequently raised his hands in the air out of innocence. “It was only a question" was his only defence. Then Hurricane was the captain once more, grabbing the manual nav joystick, trying to manoeuvre away from the speeding missile. He didn't bother trying to steer the ship away; it was built for speed and thus lacked in the manoeuvrability department. When he had brought this ship, he brought it mainly for the speed and the cool flame paint job. Now, he was mentally berating himself over his poor sense of need. Nevertheless, he slammed the throttle forward and slapped the joystick to the left, sending the tubular ship into a barrel roll away from the missile, which darted past. Five sigh of relief were released as the missile became nothing more than a small dot in the darkness.
*
Area 51, Nevada was the centre of most American alien folklore since 1967. It was all kick started by the incident in Roswell, New Mexico in June 1947. A UFO crashed down from the skies onto someone’s ranch. Many believe that it was an alien spacecraft, but the US government are adamant that it was a defective weather balloon. That, however, does not explain why they were in such a hurry to clear it up...
The true conspiracy of Area 51 began in the early 1970’s, where classified CIA documents were leaked to the press containing details of Area 51 and its experimental, secretive nature led many Americans to believe that it housed some sort of alien experimental facility and a team of elite soldiers called The Men In Black.  This was lies.
The elite team of soldiers were known as Department H.
Department H were so secretive, there were only seven alpha employees. The other employees were clones of five of the alpha team. The remaining two of the alpha team were Tao and Paine, the leader of Department H and a fool who thinks he’s a general because of a slip of the tongue.
 In the main building of Area 51, a short portly figure sat at a heavily cluttered with a small plague, stained with what appeared to be ketchup, informing others that: 1.) his name was General Nathan Paine; and, 2.) he liked food, but anyone could see from his bulk. They did not get any visitors, so there was not much point to it at all, really, it was just a formality and yet another extraordinary expenses claim of his. As he heard a floorboard squeak quietly (a sound he was quite accustomed to hearing) outside his door, he shuffled paper about on his desk solely because of his number one maxim: someone’s coming, look/sound busy. A loud knock sounded at the door. Paine counted to ten; to further exaggerate the business excuse, so Paine yelled, “Come in!”
A stick thin lab clone entered cautiously as if he feared that Paine would shoot him. Which he might. So far, his expenses bill for this month resembled a long list of random commodities such as the ten new clones following the death of the old ones (“they were too slow, sir. So I shot them twice in the head. Oh, yeah. We use humans now, don’t we? Not robots. That...um...that kills them, doesn’t it?”). There was also a mind control device to get rid of the hippies by making them kill each other. That afternoon was a “fun” afternoon involving Paine accidentally making the ex-president go on a shooting spree. The final expense was, to the amusement of his colleagues, a thousand dollar renovation of the hallways, making them much wider so that Paine could fit through. “What is it?” Paine barked, happily living up to his cruel reputation whilst laughing inside at the unfortunate clone’s fearful plight. 
“You’d better take a look sir,” said the clone after wincing, “Tao wants you down in the op room.”
Dammit thought Paine that involves movement. And so he rose, slowly and ungracefully, much to the moaning and groaning of the floorboards, yet a sigh was released from the chair. Paine hobbled after the clone, floorboards squealing after him.
*
“Sir?”
Blue Cloud sat in his swivel-throne at the centre of his saucer’s topmost deck and was brought out of a healing trance by the Master Eye’s voice. He turned his head sharply, causing gashes to rip open from his recent neck wounds. The blood that seeped out was runny and slow due to the vast amount of coagulants in his bloodstream. Annoyed, he snapped severely, “What?”
“They evaded the missile, sire,” said the Master Eye, bowing whilst shuffling away from the vindictive Blue Cloud, “should a send small boarding party?”
What do you think?”
“I think we should send the Minotaurs.”
“I think you should.”
The Master Eye strode out of the room while thinking that stuck up son of a bi-
*
The Minotaurs: half-man, half-bull, they have served Hades and the church of Cloud as a small private army since the death of king Minos. Now, they served as Blue Cloud’s mass invasion force for Earth, where he shall pluck the Alpha sword out of anyone who stood with it. He planned to fling the Alpha sword into the never-ending void between time, space and multi-verse, so that the Blade of Olympus can and will never be remade. At least, that was what he told ones who had served Hades and were not truly loyal to Blue Cloud. However, Blue Cloud’s inner circle knew the truth…
Technically, the Minotaurs were not half-human, half-bull, being a human with only the head of a bull, its tail and mighty strength. Wearing nothing but a loincloth, they marched furiously into battle; the immortal omen of death. Yet, while immortal, they were not invincible. They were just…dead. Nothing else but reanimated flesh and bone, held together by mismatching skins and a complex network of stitches, which formed a winding trail through the rotting undead skin. Now three of these abominations were floating in space above a certain spaceship…
*
They were not above this one: The Watchman. A spherical machine; it span through space, powered by its own rotational kinetic energy, the centrifugal force of which created an artificial gravity effect. Seven cylindrical pods sat in various slots along one side of one hemisphere, primed and ready to be jettisoned if necessary. Inside, The Entity in all his dark glory, was arguing with some sort of automaton or a “Veculon Extermination Xapper-Third Edition” by a chap who liked to give the word “zapper” an X just because it looked like a cool name: Vex-te.
“So, what is your objective?” asked The Entity patiently.
“To kill,” replied the monotonous robot voice, “killing is my primary function.”
The Entity shook his head in sheer disbelief; this could go on for hours and had already, much to his dismay.
“No. You distract the Earthens like the others, while I get the blade. That’s only if they don’t agree. But they should.”
“This does not compute.”
The Entity face-palmed and breathed in deep, then breathed out again; apparently it relieved stress, but he didn’t see it himself. “What?”
“Eye? Why must an eye get a sword? What would it do with it?”
The Entity said it again substituting “I” with “The Entity”.
“The Entity? Why refer to yourself in the third person?” its eyes glazed over, and then flashed on again. “Conclusion reached.”
The Entity clasped his hands together in prayer while reciting “Oh, Zeus” over and over in prayer…
“You are insane,” The Entity started, physically shocked at the conclusion from the obviously deranged machine, “my objective is to purge all of your personalities forward slash delusions.” Its hand shifted into a sharp, vicious looking knife. “To do this, I shall need access to your brain.” It said in a calm, drone, “commencing brain slice,” it moved in on The Entity, knife clutched steadily in hand, “hold still…”
The Entity called for his most patient (and sexiest) ally and walked slowly backwards out of the room away from the useless unstoppable killing machine.
*
They were above this ship…
Hurricane noticed them first on the proximity sensors: three things bearing down on them, gradually getting closer to the hull as if they were space snails. Insectiron was relaxing in his room, whilst the others were in the rest room, pondering about religion on earth, but was somewhat interrupted by three loud beats on the ceiling. He shivered and remembered the Lost Legend he dug up: 3 beats of death. Just as he classified the thought under “random idiotic thoughts brought on by stress and lunacy”, a brown skinned fist punctured the ceiling. Air started to rush out of the hole. He tried to run out of the room, an effort due to the sucking of the hole pulling him back but with one final effort, he managed to pull himself through the doorway and close it, locking it in the process. Although, if these beasts could penetrate the thick outer hull, the wafer thin door wouldn’t stop them. Running down the hallway, his theory was proven correct as the door flew off its hinges and into the opposite wall. No air was escaping from the hole now, due to the ship’s insta-fill system, instantly filling the gap when the Minotaurs dropped through. Out of curiosity and his desire to ignore fear, he turned and saw the hulking Minotaurs, each dragging behind it a giant double bladed battle axe, much too big to be carried due to the low ceiling. After taking in the full grotesque sight of the beasts, he ran to tell the others, mainly by yelling “run!” but Hurricane’s voice filled the air, ordering everyone into the cockpit. Hurricane then proceeded to close each and every security door as Insectiron ran through it, leaving Insectiron an unburdened run. However, the Minotaurs did not run. They never ran, just moved steadily closer to their prey; they were famous for this. They would let their prey escape knowing that the Minotaurs were slowly stalking them. The prey had to sleep and eat and rest, but the Minotaurs were only reanimated machines of death; never resting, never sleeping, they knew no boundaries, not space nor water nor lava as they had no need to breathe and could reform themselves from even the smallest molecule. Slowly they came after Insectiron, smashing through door after door; they progressed through the ship knowing that their quarry cannot escape.
Hurricane shifted uncomfortably in the pilot’s seat, then leant on the nav-com, the computer in charge of navigation. It indicated that they were about to go through the asteroid belt between Jupiter and Mars. Suddenly, an idea formed in his head. Such was this idea, that he believed that he was shining with a golden glow rather that chuckling to himself creepily, with the others staring at him as if he were some sort of deranged freak. Which they would still do if he had explained his plan. So he didn’t explain, instead deciding to instigate it immediately. “Everything in the open rooms is attached to the floor or inside something that is?” he grunted. Which was a lot harder than it appeared, grunting a long question.
He received a few comments, but the general consensus was “yeah, why?” So he pushed the blue button. Normally, it was a red button that was singled out, but in this case it was the blue one, which the blue-faced cannibals of Carnizorn two said was discriminatory, but it was better than offending the red planet-eating Crumpleborts of Xylon seventy four.
“What have you done?” yelled Emola melodramatically. Hurricane rolled his eyes and tutted. Once an actor, always an actor. Then, Hurricane listened to the speaker on the computer, which said, in a bleak monotone:
“Opening airlock.”
The airtight door slammed down in the cockpit as the airlock opened. The three Minotaurs were shocked and confused when they shot through the ship’s corridors towards the open darkness of space. They tried to grab onto some sort of handhold, but when they did, the handhold snapped and eventually, the Minotaurs sped out of the ship like a bullet and were immediately smashed into an asteroid the size of North America, scattering various body parts on the harsh rock face.
Hurricane shut the airlock and held his hand up for a high five, a universal tradition dating back until the time of the gods, where it used to be a sacred greeting and a means to pass along knowledge or congratulate someone. When he was met with only blank, wide eyed stares, he put his hand down slowly. “What?”
*
The Minotaurs’s brains were annoyed, to be polite. They hadn’t been alive (not strictly speaking alive, but it’s a cliché) five minutes (again, more clichéd nonsense) without being killed, although they weren’t actually dead as they were already dead. So, if dead is alive, alive must be dead, thus the brains were more alive now they were dead than they had been when they were “alive”, although they were dead. Or alive. Confusing, yes, but as is the way of the dead/undead/alive. Now the brains were splattered on an asteroid, communicating telepathically. Imagine being born again, but with the ability to communicate, but on the down side not remember your past life at all and you’ll understand how the brains feel. Then imagine being an alive/dead/undead pile of grey mush with a full vocabulary. Odd, no?
“What’s going on?” communicated one brain, which as a middle finger to creativity, we shall call “Brain One”. 
The other brain, which we shall call “Brain five thousand and sixty four” as a middle finger to creativity and maths, wriggled slightly and communicated, “Dunno. What are we, anyway?”
A metaphorical silence fell over the brains, which were always silent as they were in deep space, and the brains themselves would be silent technically even in normal atmosphere. They thought the philosophical thoughts, confirmed a gods' existence, found a use for wasps and even managed to find out how cow’s milk was first tried and drunk before arriving at the meaning of life itself. They were just about to broadcast it out to the entire universe when their weak Minotaur brains exploded, but not with a bang or a pop but with a ___.
It was tragic.
Fifty million microbes died in the explosion.
*
Hurricane was an outcast, He had lived on a desert island for fifty years and had grown a matted beard so long, he need not wear clothes to cover his decency, if he had any to spare. Animals had done...stuff to him and now he had contracted rabies uber-rabies and various ASTDs (join the dots). He was as thin as paper and failed at people skills the way a male athlete would when doing the high jump, catching his foot on the bar, dropping and catching his foot on the bar and slamming his “jewels” straight on the harsh metal pole, which could be seen as either vulgar or extremely painful. It was an Epic Fail. Of course, Hurricane was not really like this, but the others were giving him a wide berth nonetheless. He though they were all being idiots I mean, i just saved them from certain death, yet now they’re looking at me as if I’m gonna flush them all out of the airlock too. Some gratitude.
He turned to the monitors and smiled a happy smile, a happy smile so happy, you would tell little children to flee as fast as they could and tell him to get out of the nursery. Then, you’d realise that the one he was staring at was too young to walk, let alone run, so you would disembowel him and hang him from a bar by his intestines as a special characterized swing. That way, the kids would play with him, not vice versa.
Hurricane, to be clear, was not a paedophile.
He had just seen the blue/green beauty known as Earth.
*
“Mmmf mmg mmfg!” ordered Blue Cloud, “mgmmg, fgmfgak mfguzdy!” He pointed wildly at the screen until he finally swallowed the bitter tasting Carnozornian Bull. This Bull was usually quite a majestic beast that could only be captured by trickery. A person would be airlifted to the scene where one was and would be lowered onto its back. The Bull, due to huge layers of liquidated fat, would not feel a thing. The rider would then normally dangle a sausage on a piece of wire in front of the Bull, changing the angle of the wire to steer the Bull right into the awaiting cage. They then let the Bull have the sausage then electrocute it, frying it on the spot.  It was then diced and sold for a king’s ransom. Blue Cloud, being the fiend he is, stole it from a rich OAP.
The Master Eye was nervously awaiting a slightly clearer repeat of Blue Cloud’s orders. He refused to call Blue Cloud “master”. After all, who could master a master? When no repetition came, he coughed politely. More like a butler, he felt, than a master. “What is your wishes, sire?” he tried to add scorn to the question, but it did not come naturally to him.
Blue Cloud turned bodily on him, getting up close and pressing his face up against the Master Eye’s face, pushing their noses together until the tip folded up and breathed peevishly, and “get me a sandwich.” 
“Wait, what?” The Master Eye was slightly confused; the muffled speech sounded much more important.
Blue Cloud sighed, then said, very patronisingly, “please get me a sandwich.” When he once again received only a bewildered look, he said, more violently, “Do I need to use a description a Cyclops would understand? Get me a thing of bread, meat and vegetables! But no margarine...” He pulled away from the Master Eye and yelled, “Now!” at the top of his voice, making the windows vibrate and shake slightly. 
The Master Eye bustled off down the corridor to the kitchens whilst thinking we need a new maid. The last five were killed and turned into Gorgons. And why? Because the boss man wanted to see someone stoned. We should’ve told him what it really meant from the beginning.
He felt like an insignificant little fly beneath Blue Cloud’s boot. Once, he was a master of virtually everything he attempted, but ever since he had met Blue Cloud- just after Hades had been sealed away- he felt worthless on various levels of inferiority.  This was made even more apparent when they went back in time to find the Theta sword, which Hades had sent back before the first human was created and ended up inside the very first planet-eating Crumplebort of Xylon seventy four. Blue Cloud stole it when Master Eye was sleeping.  
“I need no help,” Blue Cloud had said, “especially not from you.”
Master Eye could see the Silent Creeper and Blind Assassin chuckling in the corner, but he ignored it and started to make a sandwich. Not for long, he vowed.
“Hurry up, serf!” came a distant snap.
“Yessir!” 
So much for that idea...
*
General Paine’s well fed bulk squeezed itself into the command room and surveyed the huge screen on the furthermost wall. He swept into the room, causing the lab clones to evacuate the main floor and line themselves against the walls in single file, making sure there was sufficient room for Paine to walk through without killing someone. 
Beep beep. This beeping was coming from the screen’s co-ordinating computer, indicating an anomaly in the solar system. Area 51 had two large radar dishes that were able to pinpoint anything out of place in the entire solar system by working alongside the International Space Station and the Hubble Telescope. Paine took one quick look at the screen and executed the perfect Facepalm. Why does this shit have to happen when I’m on duty? Three unidentified special objects where steadily approaching Earth, although the third and most rounded one was further away, closer to Mars than Earth, so Paine filed under “comet”. The other two, however, where approaching orbit.
“Trajectory?” he barked inquiringly.
The lab clones shifted uncomfortably and elbowed each other, daring one of them to become the harbinger of bad news. Eventually, one stood forwards, clutching a bruised arm and said quietly, “here.”
“What?” exploded Paine. Then he calmed. “That’s coincidental.”  
“Not really, sir. Remember that magnetic pull amplifier we put in orbit? Drags all ships to us if they enter the atmosphere. ‘Member, it was a pain in the a-hole when the last space shuttle came back to Earth? Wouldn’t turn off ‘till you hit it with a sledgehammer?”
“Oh, that doohickey. So, where they landing? Exactly.”
“About a mile eastwards.”
“Well, then get an extraction team there! Now!” he roared, sending the lab clones scurrying along like little insects.
*
Emola and Tors were testing Earth’s TV. They had a perfect signal, thanks to an untraceable satellite hack and were now watching a news report on CNN. According to the strange moustachioed man, there had been a terror attack on the Pentagon, America’s defence and electrical grid. After flicking through his encyclopaedic memory, Tors remembered reading about the Pentagon. It used to just be the centre of the USA’s defence network, but after a war broke out over electrical supplies and thus the Pentagon now housed the electricity grid, too, making it the perfect terror target.
On the TV, a close up of a terrorist’s face began to fade and buzz, before turning to thick white snow. Tors threw a spare shoe at the screen. The screen filled with darkness. Growling quietly, Emola hit Tors, but then noticed that the screen had turned blue. Then, it appeared that a face suddenly appeared inside the blue mass. Tors’s eyes widened. 
“Blue Cloud.”
After that screen fell to Blue Cloud’s vile curse, all the others followed suit, his transmission spreading like a virus, taking them all over and sending out a stark warning. “You will die.” Over and over, it was repetition at it’s very worst, the sinister threat sullied the spirits of the companions, sending them spiralling down into a dark depression and, as the ship’s engines died with a low whine, they gave up all hope. Their luck had run out: Blue Cloud had somehow won via foulplay.
In the cockpit, Hurricane realised that he could still steer the ship, but it was like steering a dead weight. Hopeless. They plummeted, nosecone first, towards Earth, clouds clearing to reveal Hurricane’s utopia: a bustling planet of people who weren’t afraid to have a good time mixed with a healthy balance of nature. Seeing this, he would, no, could not die, not when he was so close to reaching paradise. And not the afterlife version. However, if this was how it must be, he may as well die with a sense of purpose. He grabbed the control stick and slammed it to the right, sending the ship to the right, where Blue Cloud’s ship had drawn up alongside them. The two clashed together, rocking their foundations to the core. Debris fell and melted in the air as the two superheated ships (from re-entry of the atmosphere) fused together. Blue Cloud’s saucer’s engines sped the conglomerated mass straight down into the Earth’s surface, just a mile or so from Area 51. Clones were gathering now, armed to the teeth with new weapons such as the Tentellium X which fired sparkling balls of electricity which unfurled to wrap around and electrocute any...difficult aliens. A favourite at the moment, needless to say.
A ramp descended from the grounded heap with a hydraulic hiss, revealing an ethereal blue light from inside. Clones oohed and aahed until they heard footsteps. Weapons were cocked. Four figures swaggered down the ramp; Blue Cloud, Blind Assassin, Silent Creeper and Master Eye. Blue Cloud looked at the humans, chuckled and shook his head, then took a weapon from the nearest clone and snapped it in two. Then he said clearly, “there is a prisoner in the ship if you want to kill him.” The clones looked at Paine, who was cowering behind them. Blue Cloud continued, “I do not come in peace.” And then pressed a button on what appeared to be a watch and vanished, the other three following suit.
Paine waddled over to the ship’s ramp and ordered a few soldier clones to investigate the interior. He cocked a small pistol, he preferred the antiques, and delved into the ship towards an odd sound that he really hadn’t expected to hear. “Kelp.” Why would an alien be saying kelp? It was being repeated yet mixed with a quiet “you will die” undertone. Obviously, the blue one’s prisoner was saying “kelp” or some variation of the word. Although when Paine stopped to think about it, he realised that 1) the word that was being repeated was in fact “help” and 2) he was immensely out of breath. He walked slowly across the central room and saw a man clawing at a piece of thin glass that separated him from the rest of the room. Paine pumped a metal slug into the glass pane, shattering it. The man collapsed to the floor, obviously an alien: no Earthen would have a coat that colour and with those markings. Obviously this guy had no weather consideration either, based on the fact that all he wore was thin black trousers and that green coat that flowed down to his ankles. No shirt was worn, revealing the complex artwork that was his abs. His dark blue hair rolled down past his shoulders, but it was perfectly groomed. Paine looked down at him, who nodded in appreciation briefly before collapsing. Paine then signalled two of the clones to take the man away to be treated.
“Sir,” called a nervous soldier clone, “we found more humanoids in the other section. And a weapons stash, but he took everything and put it in the special rooms. Tao wants them to help us as they seem to be peaceful. The weapons appear to be just for remembrance, apparently.” 
Paine seethed at the mention of Tao. That’s right. That’s how it always is. Tao is always right. Why that stuck up son of a-
“Sir?” a clone was staring at him, evidently worried for his mental health.
“What?” Paine snapped, whilst mentally cursing Tao. The continuous chanting of “you will die” from the other part of the ship didn’t help his mood.
“The alien healed itself sir. The one you found.”
“But...he was unconscious.”
“For ten seconds, sir. Then he woke up and wanted to see you.”
“Ok. Take me to him, then.” Paine followed the clone to where the alien was standing. Alone. After shooing the clone away Paine said, good naturedly, “Y’know, you’re supposed to be in the infirmary.”
“I know, but...what’s the point when I can heal myself? The names Trebular, by the way.” He extended a hand to Paine, who shook it firmly. “I am what is known as a Mage. The four beings you saw thought I was a threat to them, so they took me hostage. And thanks to you, I managed to escape and heal my wounds thanks to my, well, I guess you could call it magic, but it’s fuelled by sunlight. Thank you...”
“Paine.”
“Thank you, Paine.”
“That’s ok. It’s what we do. How do you speak English, may i ask?”
  “Pills. We take them according to the planet we’re going to. I took the Earth one. The pills stimulate the brain and give you an instant knowledge of every single language on the planet.”
“Nice.” Paine nodded appreciatively.
*
A woman was with Vex-te now. This woman was not at all dressed suitably, wearing only a metal-silver thong and bra; an outfit that left nothing to the imaginations and has been the bane of many happy and successful marriages. Her perfect body made most other women go green with envy. Sometimes literally. Her light brown hair flowed down her back with more grace and beauty than a ballet dancer. These looks, of course, were her greatest weapon.
Vex-te was not influenced by looks. It was influenced by its programming which was simply “live like a human and kill” Not distract, unfortunately, which was what it was supposed to do. But, killing and destroying serve such great distractions, and after that sort of explanation, Vex-te had finally understood.
A teenage boy came running in panting, “We’re here. Earth.” However, in his hurry, he tripped over Vex-te’s programming cable and fell until he grabbed something that managed to break his fall.
“Incarnate?” asked the woman with the breasts and whatnot.
“Yes?” asked the boy now revealed to be called Incarnate.
“Get your hand off of my boob.” 
Incarnate looked down, and immediately let go of it.
It went “sproink”.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, shamefaced as they walked with Vex-te to the front of the ship in an awkward near-silence. They looked out of the glass viewing panels and gasped at the blue-green marvel that was the Earth.














































Chapter 3: Enforcement
Earth time: 15:34
Tors was delighted. He and his travelling companions had woken up, fully healed thanks to the mage Trebular, whom they had technically helped save. General Paine had brought them in an hour ago, out of the wreckage of their ship. They were unconscious, apparently and suffering from various injuries that they knew nothing about. All five of them were offered jobs when they awoke, along with Trebular, which they happily accepted.
“It’s not a bunch of laughs all the way,” Tao, the boss, had said gruffly, but nevertheless they agreed anyway, along with Trebular, who simply had “nothing else to do”. Department H’s infirmary beds left everything to be desired, being typical of basic hospital beds. Flat foam mattresses barely concealing the cold metal frame. You wouldn’t have to be a princess to feel a pea under those, or even twenty of them. Hurricane was used to it, being a squatter for most of his adult years, whereas Emola, being a galaxy-known celebrity, was not best pleased, yet kept it hidden by seething quietly in the corner.
They all had proper rooms made up for them, packed with their belongings that Tao and Paine had salvaged from the ship. Tao seemed like a nice fellow in Tors’s eyes; a tall, thin Japanese man, who came to America when he was born. He was always interested in conspiracies and was soon discovered by the US government and drafted into the secret service where he eventually rose in rank to become the director of Department H: the most secretive division of the government.
Although Tao was boss, he had only a small office consisting of a wooden desk, which contrasted the steel walls that lined the inside of Area 51.Set on the wooden desk were three state of the art laptops. One displayed live CCTV footage from the control room, another displayed a planetary radar system and the other was for everything else work related such as typing reports, report typing etc.
There was a small keepsake on the desk: a small china UFO (made in china too, everything is these days) that Tao’s niece had brought him. It was all he had to remember his family by now he was in this job. The president of America ruled that, “any person(s) in Department H cannot visit/see/acknowledge their family due to security reasons as he/she/it (delete as appropriate) could compromise the secretive nature of this operation and jeopardise the security of these United States.”  
Tao sat at his desk in a blue swivel chair, which was almost out of place against the wooden desk, and watched a clone pick his nose, scratch his bottom, and then eat the ball of snot from the first action. Tao turned, disgusted, to the radar screen. Something perfectly round was getting closer to Earth. Tao filed it under “comet”, just as Paine did.
He would’ve reacted differently if he had known what it truly was, but was distracted when a sudden knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Annoyed, he said “come in!”
Hurricane sidled nervously into the room, as if he was going to be shot if he made one false move. Which he would, if Tao was General Paine. Paine annoyed Tao immensely. He racked up more expenses than English MPs on useless crap that he thought “would be good, so I’ll spend the taxpayers’ hard earned money on it”. The president may laugh at Paine’s antics, but taxpayers cursed the unknown demon Paine who stole their money. Tao refused to humour Paine, whereas the president enjoyed Paine’s “jovial japes” and encouraged him further.
Hurricane spoke to Tao. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, this speech truly heartfelt, “you could’ve dissected us, taken our items and tech, but instead you saved us, gave us a home and jobs.” There was true gratitude there, as well as glistening tears in his eyes.
“Don’t, I feel bad now,” Tao chuckled, and then saw the gormless expression on Hurricane’s face, “it’s called a joke.”
“I know. It was a bad one. Awful.” Hurricane giggled nervously.
Tao told Hurricane to get out of his office, but very loudly and with more than a few swears thrown in. He looked again at the radar screen and something bugged him again. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. This comet had moved closer to the Earth, yet, according to the CCTV, no-one in the control room was doing anything about it. Ah, that’s clever. That is good. However, the fact that it was only detectable by Tao’s radar technique (actually in infrared signal being beamed up into space every thirty seconds, rather than the radar the lab techs use. He only used it because it’s experimental) meant that it was usually undetectable, meaning that it couldn’t be a comet, but a UFO. Tao sprinted down to the control room. 
Just after he left, all three of his laptop’s screens went black, before two red slits opened in the centre. A slight gash appeared where a mouth should be in proportion with the two slits. All over Department H, this transmission ate through security firewalls as if they were not there. But it didn’t stop at Department H, choosing to spread out over the entire world, infecting computers, laptops- hell, anything with speakers and video showed that image and nothing else.
The face of the Entity.
*
The Entity wore a black shroud. This shroud was a piece of smart fabric that clung to the skin, yet distorted features such as the eyes, mouth even the width of the body so as to conceal the wearer. Of course, Entity didn’t alter much, just the eyes and mouth, changing the eyes into blood-red slits and the mouth a small gash. However, when the black shroud was lifted, he would still be the same old person. No changes there. 
He stood at a computer the height of the room and composed himself in front of a camera. The call has been sent, and now all he had to do was speak after pressing the “com” button on the camera. But, with his finger just millimetres away, he hesitated. What if they aren’t that friendly? And we can’t get to the pods in time? He thought nervously, wouldn’t it be easier to just land and take it? 
No, his ethical thoughts countered, it would be easier, but it counts as a hostile invasion.
He straightened up to think about it and heard the scantily clad woman saying to Incarnate, “Oh yeah! Tahkshi is so-“
Entity’s ears shut down as to avoid hearing about her crush on Tahkshi. Although, he could imagine that Incarnate also wanted to escape the conversation. She was like a teenage fangirl at times.
He pushed the button on the camera, and the ship fell into an eerie silence.
*
Naarl woke on The Watchman, which didn’t surprise him much. So, he took his pill for his cough, the pill for his breathing, drank medicine for his eyesight, injected some sort of green substance into his stomach for bladder control and got dressed. Then he grabbed his wooden stick, which also served as a spear if you pressed a little yellow button and hobbled down the hallway. He met Incarnate at the end of the escape pod bay, who helped him into a cylindrical pod and onto a bench made of some sort of plastic. After strapping in, Naarl decided to twiddle his thumbs, then got bored and chewed his beard nervously.
*
Tao arrived in the control room just in time to see the message. The new alien recruits had gathered here as well after wondering why their laptops weren’t working. Incision gasped at the image and nudged Tors, “that’s the Entity.”
Tao rounded on them, “who, or what, is the Entity?”
Incision went red at the guilt of being caught and said shyly, “he’s sort of a bit of a myth, sir.”
The image on the screen began to move away from the camera top reveal his surroundings, cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together in anticipation, much as a professional cook would before proclaiming, “ooh! Would ya look at that?”
“People of Earth,” his powerful voice crackled through even the best speakers. Emola mouthed something about “everyone on the planet can hear this” and Tao’s brain felt like dying; this day was too much to handle, first them, now him. How was he supposed to cover this up? Then the voice continued, “I am the Entity,” Incision mouthed “told ya” to Tors, who subsequently punched him in the stomach. “I have bestowed myself upon you all today to ask a question. A request, if you will.” The voice grew more commanding, “My...ancestors left something on your planet, eons ago. All I wish for is safe passage for twenty four hours so that I may retrieve this. No harm shall befall any of you. I shall give you two hours to think about it. However, finding this artefact is a matter of life and death and thus, if you do not grant me safe passage, then i will get it anyway, yet I won’t be so careful. Be warned that you are messing with the galactic government here.” 
“You have been warned,” Entity finished on that sinister note and signed off while the world collapsed.
Not literally, that would be stupid.
Paine sat flabbergasted across two chairs, sweating dangerously with not-just-mild fear, whilst lab techs milled around uncertainly, looking at Tao for orders. Tao paced the length of the room, massaging his temples to concentrate harder, which didn’t work at all as he pressed too hard and hurt his temples. Then Tao broke the fragile silence. “How do we cover this up?”
The silence fell again, stronger than before. It was like a disease: looming over them, then halting them in their tracks and bringing them down. For your information, there is a god of silence, but no-one has ever heard from him.
“Terrorists,” Paine suggested, “we blame the entire thing on the Urban Terrorists. It’s what the government usually do.”
“Really?” asked Hurricane, interested.
Paine cleared his throat and yelled, “No!” He then gestured to Hurricane to bend down. He did and Paine whispered in his ear, “Yes, they do.”
“That’s irresponsible,” Hurricane remarked.
“Dunno what you are talking about,” yelled Paine quickly.
Tao roared above the strange conversation, “shut the fuck up! The pair of you! Aliens, please go elsewhere and do something else.”
The aliens sidled out of the room very quickly.
“S-sir,” came a tiny voice infected with fear, behind a small face of a lab clone.
“What?” barked Tao and Paine in perfect unison. They looked at each other, glared at each other, then said, “That was odd,” again, in perfect unison.
“The president called, sir,” said the lab clone nervously.
“Shit!” Tao and Paine cursed. Tao walked over to the cordless phone, “this day jus’ keeps gettin’ better and better...”
 He picked up the receiver and was immediately greeted by the president’s brisk tones, “what the hell happened? One minute, I was talking to ol’ Gordy, the head of the EU, the next something is telling me it wants safe passage on our world. Now I would not be surprised at all if it was ol’ Gordy saying that, but I have had every single one of my staff hearing it. What is your job, Tao? To stop this sort of thing happening!”
“Careful, sir,” said Tao in a false calm, “watch your heart.”
“Don’t you lecture me about my- ow!”
“Are you okay, sir?” asked Tao in a perfect sympathetic voice.
“I’m good.”
“What hurt, sir?”
“My heart.”
Tao grinned.
“So, what do you think we should do?” asked the president in a rare moment of advice asking.
“I reckon we should let him have what he wants. That way, he has no reason to kill anyone.”
“That appears to be the general consensus but I need to put it to a vote between the world leaders. That way, if this goes wrong, it’s not just my arse on the line.”
“Very noble, sir.”
*
Area 51’s rec room was odd, mainly because it was just a few chairs, the hard bottom killing variety, and a couple of chess boards, which were engulfed by shadows and cobwebs, encrusted with dust and dead insects. However, the greatest part of the room was the fridge in the corner where the aliens where sitting. The fridge was slowly emptying, unsurprisingly.
“I like the whiksey,” Tors said drunkenly, misreading the bottle’s label.
 Hurricane snorted and said, “I prefer the yoghurt.” It was his tenth pot.
“Lightweight,” remarked Emola out of nowhere, between gulps of lager. 
“I love you guys,” muttered Insectiron incoherently with a few jabbing and pointing motions.
“Shut the hell up, guys,” ordered Incision as Insectiron collapsed and hugged his leg, sobbing and whimpering about how much he loved legs.
*
Who forward slash what am I? Am I man or something greater? Am I a ninja-hippy or hippy-ninja? Am I man wearing a pink flowery ninja suit, or a man-wearing pink flowery ninja suit? What am I? The Hippy Quing paused thought and took a long pull on a cigarette.
Quing was an unusual title, one derived from the merging of queen and king. The main reason for this title was not only the gender confusion of others, as all details are hidden in the ninja suit, but also due to the gender confusion of the Quing themselves due to the drugs.
The hippies had certainly made enemies thanks to their anti-establishment attitude as well as their want for peace. Their enemies included: the government, obviously; most religions due to their free love idea; the Urban Terrorists, thanks to the peace idea; and a load of OAPs who hated the hippies from stories they heard about the nineteen-sixties.
And don’t ask about Mrs Tilbury.
*
17:25
General Paine was technically not a general. It all happened when Tao was talking to the president about Paine when Tao called Paine a “general Paine in the arse” as a joke, but it stuck.
“Tao!” Paine whined, dragging the word out, “the phone’s ringing!”
“Why can’t you talk properly, you obnoxious little shit?” Tao yelled as he ran frantically to the phone, picking up the receiver. He put on his best mild-mannered voice, “Hello. Who is this?”
“It’s me the goddamn president!” Tao moved the receiver away from his ear; the president yelled loudly.
“Oh, hi sir!” Tao said, relaxed again, “Vote go well?”
“Oh, yes,” cam a sarcastic reply, “after all, the Russian president marching out an’ threatening to, ah, what was it? Oh, yes, “nuke zem mudder varking aliens back to ze ‘ell from vence zey came.” And you think it went well?”
“Well, will he nuke them? Or zem?”
“I don’t know. Probably.” 
“Well, I suppose that’s one way to get rid of a problem.” Tao joked.
“That’s what you’d think, isn’t it?” a cold, harsh voice replaced the presidents. 
“Entity?”
“Got it in one. Your planet has quite effectively destroyed my ship. Go on. Check your screens.”
Tao did so. “What is the thing where your ship was?”
“A black hole,” Entity lied, “that’s what ya get when ya nuke a ship running on a nuclear engine.”
“That’s beside the point. How the hell are you contacting me, and why me?”
“See the moving dots?”
“Yeah.”
“Escape pods.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I’m contacting you because... because of your magnetic Earth protection thing.”
“Why?”
“Because it means that a robot is on its way. It should be turned off, so it shouldn’t harm you.”
“Why? I thought you wanted to kill us?”
“Just a mere distraction is to kill. We are waging war, my friend. You fired upon a ship of the galactic government. You have started a war.”
“Where are the other pods going?”
“I’ll give you hints. I will destroy your cities, burn your forests and send the heavens crashing down upon you.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“It’s your own fault, human. You’re lucky I’m only saying this to you, but bare this in mind: I will get my sword, no matter what.” He signed off.
Tao turned to Paine, eyes wide in abject fear. Then, an explosion shook the covert base, shattering a few windows. They rushed outside, Paine on his mobility scooter. A crater was in front of them, at the bottom of which was a humanoid machine, surrounded by flames. Thick, black smoke poured out of it, causing them to cough and splutter. “Put it in lockdown,” Tao ordered, “and tomorrow, Paine, you can do what we planned.”
“But...Tao, no!”
“Yes, Paine. You will take the aliens shopping.”
Paine looked up at the darkening sky and yelled, “No!” at the top of his voice, causing birds to flee and squawk in fear.
*
One hour later (time zones! Remember the time zones!)23:01, England, Dover
The shadows danced as the crooked bartender hobbled across the café, bent almost double with age. The strip lighting did nothing but enhance the shadow’s length, but also acting as the final defiance against the claws of the night, which yearned to tear the light from the enlightened (ha!) humans. Only three were brave enough to be out on this harsh autumn night: the woman, a companion and the loner, all who had nowhere to go but here, this room that was filled with the scent of coffee, both pungent and tantalizing on the senses; the bar tender dare not open the windows in fear of the zombified hordes from the pubs down the street. Although they were closed, the sounds of drunken babble could be heard. But they were used to it after even just one hour and continued to stare at their coffees; never taking even one sip of the tasteless fuel. This café was the centre of a community for those who had nowhere else to go, hidden in the busy city like a deer in tiger’s territory. 
In the shop opposite, mannequins leered through dark windows; malevolent eyes stared right through you. The perfect coppers, if they were truly alive. The gloom of the night had taken hold now, yet still repelled by the cafes light. In the darkness they dwelled: the drunks, the addicts and the mobs. Any one of these factions would kill for cash, for blood, for drugs or for more weapons to kill more innocents. The café door tinkled as it opened, allowing the woman and her companion stepped out into the night, purposefully keeping out of the shadows. The light was safe they thought. In the café, the loner looked up from his brown pool of what was supposed to be coffee and into the barman’s squinted eyes and shook his head solemnly. The barman gazed out of the window into nothingness. The woman and her companion were obviously not from around here; everyone around here knew not to go out into the darkness, especially at night. A scream rang out of the darkness, shattering the fragile silence.
The shadows of the woman and her companion, still visible from the café could still be seen, but they did not stir. The bartender hung his head in abject sorrow until he heard a shrill, panicked voice saying, “thank you! God bless you sir!” Then they came back in the cafe and sat, as if nothing had happened. Silence held for about a minute before the loner asked what had happened. The answer was simple: a man, dressed fully in black, which even covered his face, had beaten up two men who were trying to mug them. Knives had stabbed at him, but they miraculously did no harm. He had then told them to go inside, out of the dark and then walked off to the coast.
The white cliffs of Dover.
The chalk-white barrier between England and France sparkled under the night stars. The cracks and folds illuminated by the starlight, yet still were consumed by darkness. An eagle flew in circles around the highest point of the cliffs; it seemed to be much larger than any other eagle the Entity had ever seen before.  It screeched; the sound carrying overhead as a warning: stay away.
The Entity ignored this warning and proceeded right to the edge of the highest point and sighed. Why must this be a necessity? But he knew the answer only too well; this way was the only way to succeed in his mission on Earth. He feared not what was about to occur, but the long arduous trek from Dover to Mt Nisyros, an underwater volcano that formed the Greek islands of Kos and Nisyros, was bound to be tough. Craters had appeared all over the two islands, making it easily accessible for anyone who would dare enter a steaming volcano. 
So, just the Entity then. Good.
No distractions on the Entity’s part, was what was agreed, that would be the job of the others. The Entity was to get the artefact, the key and kill the opposition. Should be easy enough...
“Well, are you gonna show yourself?” the Entity drawled loudly, at what appeared to be nothing. It was not nothing. The Entity knew what to expect from this cliff: the rogue god, Prometheus. Although the cliffs stood only three hundred and fifty one feet tall, the rogue god stood almost one thousand, being forced to shrink so as to be chained to the cliff. 
The legend goes: Prometheus created man and formed him from soft clay, then baked him in the fires of Hephaestus’s forge.  He sought a way to make man superior to animals and gave them a shape closer to the gods, upright and noble. Then, Prometheus stole fire from Zeus while he slept and gave it to man. Zeus was angry at Prometheus' actions and reacted out of revenge; chaining Prometheus to a cliff, Zeus ordered his eagle, Aetos Dios, to eat Prometheus’s liver every remaining day. Zeus then ordered Hephaestus to create a woman, Pandora who, despite her attractive looks, spelled the down fall of humanity’s golden empire when Zeus fashioned her a box that she could never open. However, curiosity got the better of her, just as Zeus knew it would. Every plague, disease, horror and fear flew out of the box, leaving behind only the greatest power: hope.
In response to the Entity’s drawl, something happened to the cliff.  Parts of the cliff began to separate from the main body of the cliff; moving forwards in slow motion, trying to break free of cliff. The chalk white cliffs appeared to go whiter as what appeared to be a milky-quartz human detached itself from the cliff, dripping sea water as it came. Rusted iron chains trailed along behind as the quartz giant grew, slowly but surely  engorging in all possible measurements, yet at all times stayed in perfect proportion. It tugged at the left chain with a quick jerk of the arm. The chain came loose of the cliff, unfortunately dragging a huge and heavy piece of the cliff with it.  The Entity retreated back as the twenty tonne chunk of chalk was torn away, causing sections from the very edge of the cliff to fall away into the treacherous waters below. The right half of the cliff was soon to follow as Prometheus tugged the other chain loose. Yes, this quartz giant is the Titan, Prometheus, rogue god of forethought. 
Stick-thin after his imprisonment, Prometheus’s muscles and veins stood out, lining his entire body, which appeared to be protected only by a white loincloth. Scars littered his stomach directly over where his liver would be; Titans had great regenerative powers. Long, shaggy grey hair hung from his scalp and chin, hiding the gaunt dark face. Pure, matt black eyes gazed out of the tangled mass of hair, boring a hole right into the Entity’s mind. “You,” he spoke with a broken voice, unused in a million years, “who are you and why did you come here?”
“Me? Never mind that, cus i think you know” countered the Entity, “otherwise why would you break free as soon as you hear my voice?”
Prometheus grunted softly, “Well played, young one. So, I will tell you my story. After over two hundred thousand years of imprisonment Blue Cloud, the god of death’s disciple came to me. He promised me emancipation, so long as I keep watch over the sea. The Aegean sea in particular.”
“So, you’re his watcher, eh? For the Alpha sword?” the Entity enquired.
Prometheus coughed, wheezy, then cleared his throat. “So, you’re the one he warned me about, eh? I thought as much!”
“He warned you about me? I’m touched.” 
“Yes, he described the aura of one who would come to Earth in search of the sword. He himself had seen it in the future using the Ring of Chronos. What was it he told me to do to the one who came with this aura...?”
“Dunno. Why don’t you-“
“Got it!” Prometheus interrupted.
“So, what was it?” the Entity was great at patronizing people.
“Kill you.” Prometheus proclaimed grandly, before swinging a chain, which was still attached to his wrist and the twenty tonne chunk of chalk. The rock headed straight for the Entity, but he did not move away, only raised his hand and shifted his stance. The rock smashed with bone-crushing force straight into his open hand. Prometheus grinned, believing he had the upper hand, before realising that the chain was not moving any more. He looked down at the Entity to see the rock sitting comfortably in his outstretched palm.
 The Entity chuckled and asked sarcastically, “is that really the best the best you can do?” he clenched his fist and closed his eyes, sending a pulse of natural energy through the chalk, shattering it in all its entirety. 
Prometheus stepped back, shocked. “Who, or what, are you? You are no mortal!” he roared.
The Entity looked at him straight in the eye, “I’m a mortal. I am the last Adjeti. The final mortal lord of nature.  I am the Entity that will plague your nightmares for evermore.”  He knelt down and placed his hand on the ground, and whispered an ancient command “Dóste mou ti dýnami tou nkremoú.” With this command, a spear of solid chalk and flint ejected itself from the cliff face and, before Prometheus even had time to register what had happened, the spear had impaled him through the chest, right between the uppermost ribs, piercing the heart and showering them both with a modest spattering of dark red blood.
The Entity smiled as Prometheus’s head dropped and his eyes rolled back into his head. He turned and strode away, leaving Prometheus’s titanic body pinned up by the spear. A vague squelching sound made the Entity’s ears prick up, before he shrugged and carried on walking.  A crash sounded behind, but the Entity put it down to the waves crashing on the rocks below. He heard the words “you lousy little wretch!” but put it down to the wind playing tricks on his hearing. After all, this was a new planet; it could very well have winds that whisper threats in the wind. It was only when a huge quartz hand grasped the Entity from behind did the Entity remember: Titans can regenerate quickly, can’t they?
By then, it was all too late.
Entirely constricted, the Entity tried to push at the walls of milky quartz, but to no avail. Then, he remembered: all quartz is, is rock. Rock can be easily shattered by water freezing inside it. Water and changes of temperature are natural and, in truth, very easy to do. And so, the Entity’s second onslaught began.  He cooled the water in Prometheus’s blood, causing the blood cells to burst open as water shifted state to ice. The quartz began to crack and the Entity drew a sword and plunged it into the exposed tissues. Prometheus winced in pain, opening his hand and dropping the Entity, who, on his way down, grabbed the rusted chain and let Prometheus raise his hand to investigate where the Entity was. The chain followed the hand and swung up and over Prometheus’s head, at which point the Entity let go of it, plunging straight down towards Prometheus’s face. Drawing his sword once more, he held it at his side, carving a long gash down the side of Prometheus’s face, still plunging down; drops of blood followed the Entity down until the Entity lunged for the chain once more, which was now near the sea’s surface. The droplets of blood; which were more the size of a small lake that a droplet, rushed past and sank in the water, colour diffusing, turning the water a deep red. The Entity caught his breath until the chain swung, slamming him into the cliff face. Clenching his teeth in pain, he began to climb the chain; this was made difficult by the eccentric swinging of the chain into the cliff face, sending granules of chalk reigning down into the sea. Good thing the Entity wasn’t asthmatic. Grazed knees came into reality as the Entity jumped off of the chain at last and landed very awkwardly on the surface of the cliff once more.  
“You can’t kill me, Entity,” boomed Prometheus, whose cut on his eye had already sealed shut, “you can’t kill one who cannot be harmed. For long, anyway.”
“Well,” the Entity said, thinking carefully, “if I can’t kill you by any normal means, then... I’ll just have to kill you until you stay dead!”
Prometheus’s eyes widened: he hadn’t anticipated that. No-one had tried that before or, come to think of it, even killed a Titan or God before. If this guy was serious, Prometheus reckoned that the Entity might be the first. The Entity opened his palm and blew on it. A glowing white light formed, which he then threw into the thrashing waters below. Instantly, the water shifted state and became cold ice, restricting Prometheus’s movements and trapping the chains underwater. The Entity appeared to smile before placing his hand on the cliff surface again.  Spears of chalk ejected outwards, piercing Prometheus in god knows how many places. He bled from each spot, but continued to laugh as each spot grew steadily smaller, but ceased laughing when more spears protruded, filling and enlarging the holes again.  Prometheus began to roar in fury, raising his arms and shattering the shafts connecting him to the cliff face, leaving only the spearheads in him. His wounds were still healing, but they were getting slower now. 
The Entity seized his chance, before Prometheus’s regenerative system began to regenerate. Not quite sure how that works... He plunged his sword, seemingly made of two snakes into the ground. Green crackling electricity coursed through the cliff face until it reached the icy sea. 
Prometheus gasped, “Is that...the Beta sword of nature?”
The Entity smiled derisively and replied, “That is correct, titan. I found it in Tahkshi’s castle just before it collapsed. Now,” he began to yell, “feel its wrath!” He swung the sword upwards, the green electricity following it and clinging to the blade. As the electricity rose, it brought parts of the ice with it, which formed giant icicles that stabbed Prometheus, skewering him with ice and chalk. Unable to move now that his arms were more or less held up by the pillars of ice and chalk embedded in them, Prometheus was ripe for the killing now.
The Entity stepped back about ten paces, then ran forwards and jumped off of the cliff, plunging down into the cold ice below. The Beta sword unfurled, revealing the twin serpents that it was comprised of. The serpents hung in the air and spat venom at Prometheus for a couple of seconds, then melded onto the Entity’s arms. The Entity grabbed Prometheus’s chains again and sent a pulse of orange flickering fire to melt the ice around them. The water bubbled and rose in pillars around him, one hitting him and pushing him and the chain upwards to Prometheus’s head and, due to the Entity’s orders, the water pushed the chain around in circles around Prometheus’s throat, tighter and tighter with each revolution. Eventually, Prometheus’s eyes rolled back into his head and he fell back, breaking the ice and water surface as he fell. And as he fell, the sharp icicles pierced through the skin and bone even more, emerging on the other side of his body. These gashes did not heal or even grow smaller. Entity sighed with fully justifiable relief after landing back on the cliff again, having just let go of the chain and let momentum carry him through the air to wherever his destination lay.
The eagle in the sky was still circling above, the Entity noticed. It cawed three times before Prometheus’s quartz body finally sank beneath the dark waters of the night. Suspiciously, the Entity eyed the eagle, wondering if it really was...no that would be stupid. Surely not.
 It was. The Entity was actually dead right as the eagle, better known as Aetos Dios, swooped down and landed beside the entity. Although the Entity thought it was large for an eagle, this eagle was large for any lifeform. The size of the average elephant, Aetos Dios’s beautiful tail feathers helped finish off its regal pose, emphasised greatly by its magnificent beak that looked like it was able to tear any human in two. It spread its wings wide, as if inviting the Entity to climb on to its back. 
The Entity did not climb on its back, but instead patted it on the head, stroking it. The eagle nuzzled him gently as the Entity smiled warmly. You don’t get birds like this anywhere else, he thought. Aetos Dios made a strange clicking with its beak and cocked its head to one side as if inviting the Entity to climb on. The Entity did not climb on, more clambered on very awkwardly indeed, catching a couple of tail feathers on the way. Aetos Dios only moaned slightly and persevered with the pulling pain in exchange for its freedom after thousands of years. It appeared to somehow purr, even though it was supposed to be impossible for birds to purr, but that’s science for you. Cocking its head again, it appeared to be trying to listen to the Entity as he cursed and swore in various languages. The Entity chuckled quietly before saying, clearly and loudly, “The island of Nisyros. Mandraki, the capital, please.” He then said, “Look at me, talking to a bird as if it would know what I was on abaaaaaaaaah!” He screamed as the eagle suddenly spread its wings, rushed forward and jumped off of the edge of the cliff, performing a nosedive into the sea, before it straightened up again, flying just metres above the sea. The Entity took off his shroud now; the need to be covered and unrecognised now over when there was no-one around. They were both free now. The wind rushed through their ears, their hair, throwing it around and making a mess of it. He smiled and screamed in delight before stopping and narrowing his eyes at the horizon.
I’m coming for you, Alpha sword. I’m coming. And you will be mine...
























































Day Two: Destruction


























Chapter 4: shopping for kills
6 hours later, 00:37, Virginia, Arlington
A boring morning on a simple housing estate in Arlington Virginia was in a deep slumber. Shook by a meteorite that had crashed and destroyed a park that evening, the residents had only just got to sleep. However, for one slim brunette, the day had only just begun. The night shift? I fuckin’ hate the night shift! Was her response to having to work, would you guess, the night shift. She shook her waist length hair off of the table and adjusted it into a ponytail, then made a funny face in the mirror and chuckled. If you can’t laugh at yourself, she reasoned, what can ya do? She grabbed her security pass, vital for access to her station: the head of the electricity division for New York: a very important job, needless to say. This was the main reason that the outside of her house was covered in surveillance equipment, mainly to stop the cyborg Urban Terrorists from getting in or, in fact, anywhere near her. Of course, she was the person most likely to be assassinated or targeted, but she had point-blank refused to be moved to a safe-house. 
Maria, for that was her name opened her wardrobe to pick out a coat, looking past the rows of fashionable jackets, instead opting for the dirty brown trench coat. Scowling, she placed a complementing brown top hat on her head, followed by sunglasses. Only now that she was completely covered and unrecognisable could she leave for work. She glanced at her Rolex watch; she had a very good salary. “Shit!” she swore when she saw that she had only twenty minutes to get to work. She rushed out the front door and down the steps, never realising for a second that the CCTV cameras had been torn off the walls, leaving behind only strands of cables that were emitting sparks. She fumbled around in her pockets for her car keys and unlocked the car. She looked around in her normal and obvious paranoia, brought on mainly by the government’s overreaction, in her opinion anyway, to see a blond haired woman wearing...virtually nothing.     
“Maria Corrigan?” she asked kindly.
“Yes.” Answered Maria slowly, very suspicious.
Suspicion that was fully justified...
Darkness.
*
01:03, The Pentagon
Maria pulled into her second-favourite parking spot, but only because her favourite had been taken by the infernal Jimothy Barnes, whose parents didn’t know what to call him. They probably didn’t want him either, come to think of it. She got out of the car and rushed to the check-in point, where the hugeness-awesomeness that was Chico stood. Muscles upon muscles bulged, if that was at all possible. 
“G’mornin’” grunted Chico nasally in a voice nowhere near as impressive as his looks, “late, Maria?”
“Sorry Chico. Alarm wen’ off late.” 
“Ah, well. It’s only a couple o’ minutes. I’m sure the boss’ll let you off this once.” He looked at her hair now she had removed the hat, “dyed your hair, Maria?”
“Oh yes. Ya like the blonde?”
“Veeery nice.” He growled, and then beeped her through the reinforced steel gateway. Maria walked on through and headed to her work station. She swiped her security pass in the electronic lock and walked in, door sliding shut with a slight hissing. She kicked some of the clutter, before investigating a box’s contents. It was full of CDs. She picked up one in a clear case, hoping for classified government documents. There were words written on it. They said: Seamus and the Butt Monkeys: The Big Fat Album. Assuming that it might be a code, she put it in the state of the art voice-activated touch-screen computer and listened to it. She grimaced when it turned out to be death metal music.
In case you hadn’t worked it out yet, Maria is not the original Maria, but a woman pretending to be her; namely, the woman who was wearing almost nothing. The very same woman from The Watchman.  As we don’t know her real name yet, or in case it has been mentioned several times throughout the book so far (hintity hint hint) it shall not be revealed, yet. So, she will be continued to be called Maria.
Maria sat at the computer. The computer asked very impolitely for a password by the word “password” in capital letters. She stuck her middle finger up at it, the spent the next thirty minutes trying to guess the password. It turned out to be “Butt Monkey”. Maria chuckled and shook her head. Fools. Making obvious passwords.  She looked at the screen and touched an icon. It didn’t open. She right touched it, causing a menu to appear next to it. She touched “open”. It didn’t open. She growled and repeated this ten times. Then they all opened to her immense annoyance. She closed them all down, poking a small hole in the touch screen. She looked at the screen, realising that she had shut all programs down and needed to open it again. She screamed in frustration, but then opened it. This time, it worked. It made a nice change. She relaxed slightly, before turning all electricity in New York to maximum and allowing all control of the electricity flow on and off control to be from her system only. She placed a small incendiary device on the wires powering it. Now, if the device goes off, the system will crash, bringing New York to a standstill and a blackout.
Maria jumped from a knock on the door. Placing a hand on her heart, she breathed deeply, then said briskly “come in.”
It was Chico. He put a coffee down on her desk along with a memo, then nodded at her and walked back out. Maria shrugged, and then opened the memo. It said “will you go on a date with me? Signed, Chico”. Maria laughed, then felt bad. Chico was probably a very nice person. Maria then decided to go on her break early. She went into the car park, nodded politely at Chico, who knew when not to push his luck with dates. She got in the car and drove away, leaving her handiwork behind.
4 hours later, 04:37, Manhattan
The Urban Terrorists gathered around a TV as a recording that was dropped off at their hideout played. 
“Attack New York city at seventeen hundred hours. I will aid you and together, we will topple America.”
They, needless to say, will attack at seventeen hundred hours. Spoiler!
Eleven hours later, 15:07, New York City
The half hour flight in a cramped jump-jet had done wanders for Tors’s digestive system. The hour long drive from the airport to the centre of New York City had numbed his legs to the point that he now couldn’t feel the burns he got when Paine spilt his coffee, fresh from the kettle, down his legs. He got out of the rugged landrover, vigorously threw up about ten times, then his legs gave in and he fell into the pool of vomit headfirst. Insectiron, still hung over from the night before, stumbled out of the landrover and, failing to see Tors lying in a pool of his own vomit, tripped over his lifeless body and joined him in the vomit. Hurricane took one look at the pair and started laughing before Paine leaned on him, accidentally disrupting his balance and sending him falling into the heap. Paine, Trebular and Incision decided to go out the other door with Emola, who was being relatively sensible by opening the boot and trying to drag Paine’s enormous mobility scooter out. He pulled and lifted, eventually dragging it out, yet he dropped it on his foot and squealed in pain.  Paine and Incision hefted the scooter off his foot, then looked at the comedic scene and laughed, whilst Tors, Insectiron and Hurricane glared darkly at them.
They picked themselves up out of the vomit and brushed themselves down, getting more sticky vomit on their hands, then tried to shake it off. That worked, but as a decrepit old woman walked by on a dented Zimmer-frame, he shook his hand especially violently, showering her in sick. She turned her head ever so slowly, narrowing her eyes at Tors. She walked towards him slowly. He trembled in his boots. She raised the Zimmer-frame. He raised his arm in defence. She slammed the Zimmer-frame down on his arm repeatedly, sending him sprawling to the floor; she was quite spry for an old lady. Paine intervened, slamming his mobility scooter into her legs repeatedly, reversing each time with a few beeps, then accelerating to a whopping nought-point-five miles per hour and smashing into her ankles. She turned on him with a much screeching of “you darn young whippersnapper!” and tried to beat him with the Zimmer-frame, but he ran her down, crushing her hip under the full weight of the huge scooter.
They walked off extremely quickly, leaving the crippled old lady writhing on the path. Paine spotted a clothes shop and took the others in. The employee on the front desk frowned disapproving at them, especially Tors, whose shirt was still covered in splatters of vomit. She led them to the changing rooms, pointed them in, then lazily left. “Well, that’s customer service at its high point,” Paine muttered disapprovingly.
“Really?” Hurricane asked, feasting on yet another yoghurt; the twenty-fifth of the day.
“No, you twat!” Emola hissed, “He was being sarcastic!”
“You sure? He sounded pretty serious to me.”
“I was being sarcastic,” said Paine, ending the conversation.
Emola went to choose clothes with Tors and Insectiron, while Hurricane chose to look down another aisle. Trebular, Paine and Incision didn’t bother looking for clothes. 
Paine, who had no real reason to shop asked, “Trebular, why don’t you get anything? That coat is horrible.”
Trebular rounded on him and said, “These are my religious clothing. I have to wear them to use my magic.” He then left and stood outside in a huff.
Paine shrugged and turned to Incision, who said bleakly, “I’m saving my money for food.” They had all been given five hundred dollars from the US government. After all, that’s what taxes are for: to pay alien uber-immigrants to buy random stuff that they don’t need. 
Paine nodded in agreement of buying food, his many folds of fat rippling and moving with his head, sending shockwaves over body.
Emola had chosen clothes now. Paine couldn’t see what they were, but he could see that they were pink and frilly. Well, Paine thought, if that’s what he likes. Emola disappeared into one of the changing rooms and came out a few minutes later. 
“What the fuck?” exclaimed Paine, as he caught a glimpse of Emola’s clothes.
Emola, the big burly black man, was wearing a pink, frilly...thing. A dress by the looks of it. The folds draped down to the ground and it was held up only by two thin straps on his shoulders. The top of the dress began at the chest, halfway down the man-boobs. His hair was covered by a shapeless pink bonnet. That was the last straw. He was completely ridiculous. Paine burst out in laughter.
Emola scowled, “What? Earth people wear these!”
Paine snorted and replied, “The women, yes!”
“No, I saw a guy with a moustache wearing one down the street.”
“That was a woman! A manly woman!”
“No, it had no boobs.”
“Oh my god! You were perving on manly women!”
“Paine, a woman is a woman in my eyes!”
“That’s so morally wrong!”
“How is it morally wrong?”
“Ok, ethically!”
“No, it is not!”
“Fine!”
“Yeah!” Paine decided to agree and let Emola pay for the ridiculous garments. He queued up behind Hurricane, who was wearing a black leather jacket that matched Tors’s. However, Hurricane was wearing a bright yellow shirt and black trousers. Emola frowned at the choice of yellow shirt, yet approved of the trousers and Tors’s black shirt, which matched the jacket and trousers. Insectiron had brought a perfect tuxedo, which suited him all too well. The cashier looked at Emola and tried to restrain a giggle, turning it into a cough. And another cough. And another. Then she just laughed for a whole hour, and in that hour, they waited very patiently to be served until Paine decided to call an ambulance when her face turned blue. On the bright side, Emola didn’t have to pay for his clothes. They found Trebular in the pub, to their surprise; Trebular doesn’t drink. Instead, he was absent-mindedly chewing on a few peanuts, not even noticing when the others came in until the pink beacon known as Emola appeared by his side. Trebular took one look, and walked over to where the others were hiding from him, acting as if they didn’t know him.
Insectiron had ordered a few beers, but no-one else wanted any, so he drank them all himself. They left an hour later after Emola had got into a fight with a man that didn’t like “trans-vest-ites”.  Emola had won, but only because of his extremely pointed high heels which, for some unknown reason that made Tors ever-so curious, he was extremely good at walking in. Insectiron was hammered, unable to walk in a straight line and throwing up every now and then. Tors’s trousers, which he had found in the bargain bin, had got wet after a drink held by Insectiron was thrown over him. They had absorbed the beer and actually shrunk, making it tight around his waist and legs, restricting his movement.
“Hey, guys!” said Paine, all too jolly for the mood everyone else was in. Hurricane was actually shuddering because he hadn’t had yoghurt for two hours.
“What?” Trebular asked, bored.
“Let’s go get some dinner!”
“What a surprise...” Tors muttered to Incision, who chuckled.
And so they walked along the road and went into the nearest restaurant to eat.
*
17:23
The Urban Terrorists were waiting. Waiting only for a signal to strike...
*
She had come to New York via a stolen car, using a stolen identity. The car had broken down a mile or so back, but now “Maria” stepped out into the sidewalk and hailed a taxi. The taxi was a stereotypical yellow taxi, driven by a male driver, who might occasionally break a few traffic laws just to get to the customer quicker, especially when one was as much eye candy as Maria.  The taxi stopped with a screech right in front of her so she opened the door with a barely audible click and sat on the cushy seats, patterned with black spots on a red background. The door slammed shut automatically; a new invention that allowed taxi drivers to control the doors and avoid people not paying. Also, a potential health and safety hazard looked over by the government for the ‘greater good’. The taxi driver looked around the seat at Maria and asked in a stereotypical Brooklyn accent “Where you wanna go, missy?”
“Empire state building, please.” Manners don’t cost anything, though it didn’t show from the three dollar starting fee on the driver’s screen. Maria fumbled around in her bag for something as she headed to her destination.
The taxi was driving through the streets of central New York, when the driver decided to try and establish a relationship with the attractive lady in the back seat. “So, what you here for?”
“Sightseeing.” Mostly true for now. 
“Cool. I’ve never actually been up there before and I’ve lived here for...it’s gotta be about thirty three years now.”
“Thirty three years?’
“Yeah.”
“How old are you, if you don’t mind?”
“Forty two. You?”
“Twenty three. Good day, sir?”
The driver’s chest puffed with the pride of being called “sir” rather than vermin or idiot, but his face told the true story, “Not good, I’m afraid. Turns out I’m short on me rent and apparently, me landlords one o’ them terrorists. Also, the girl I loved is in love with me brother. Me frickin’ brother! ‘s like I’m a magnet for bad luck.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, but don’t bad luck come in threes?”
“I suppose. You could be facing that final bad luck soon, then?” she slipped on a strange metal-silver glove that was made of some sort of metallic thread along with the red wires that ran down the fingers, along the palm and embedded themselves into her forearm. These wires then attached themselves to the nerves in the arm making the gloves true function respond directly to the brain.
“Ya reckon? How soon?”
She looked out of the window at the busy streets and said, quite bluntly, “Now.” 
The taxi driver turned. Maria kicked the door right off of its hinges as the taxi swerved with the driver’s turn, going onto the sidewalk then off again. Pedestrians fled from the seemingly rogue taxi man. ‘Maria’ rolled out of the taxi gracefully. The driver turned the taxi around and drove at her, pistol in hand; after a life of abuse by the fates, he had finally snapped. He yelled something, but it was lost in the screams from the crowd. The gloves glowed with a yellow as she thought about magnetism. Her hand rose into the air while the taxi mimicked it, rising further. Bullets rang out from the taxi, but were repelled by her magnetic field and ricocheted into the panicking crowd. Three major injuries sustained to bystanders. She lowered her fist, plunging the taxi into a nearby building, penetrating the walls. The taxi exploded and became a ball of fire that slowly engulfed the restaurant. Panicked customers flooded out, the posher ones demanding refunds as a shrill beep-beep rang out over and over again from the smoke alarms. Eventually, the building’s supports gave way and the taxi plummeted to the ground driven by a blackened corpse. The five stories collapsed onto one another like an elephant stepping on a house of cards. “Fifty seven dead in tragic fires”, was a headline the next day.  The NYPD were approaching now; she could hear the shrill sirens getting louder and louder, closer and closer. She heard someone yell, “We can take her!” She looked over to see: a huge man on a mobility scooter, a staggering moron, a black…man, a shivering mess of a lad, a blue haired guy and a man with some trouble walking.
Then, from behind, she heard, “stop. In the name of Earth!”
She turned to see: a huge blob on a mobility scooter; a drunken fool, a shivering mess of a lad, desperately holding a spoon; the butchest woman ever; an attractive blue haired man with no shirt on; and a man who needed new trousers. And an ordinary person, who shook his head, then said, “Viretta? That you?”
“Incision, my man.” Maria, now revealed to be Viretta, head of Virincorparates, said, “You weren’t expecting to see me here, were you?”
“Not really, no.”
“Well, I am one of the Enforcers.”
“True.”
The butch “woman”, or Emola as he was really known, spoke in a deep voice and removed his bonnet to reveal his afro, “You think we’re fools?”
“That’s the gist of it, yes.” Viretta replied levelly.
“Well,” Emola replied, “at least I wear practical clothing. Learn your lesson.”
Viretta walked up to Emola and raised her hand to his face, as if to slap him. He winced, but then realized that she hadn’t slapped him and relaxed. “I am the only one here wearing practical clothes,” she yelled indignantly, “at least I don’t look like a fool. And my movements are not restricted.”
Emola shook his head disapprovingly at claims that he didn’t dress appropriately. However, it was Tors who spoke next, “Viretta, what are you doing?”
Viretta chuckled before answering, “Galactic law, m’dear.”
“What?” barked Paine. 
“Galactic law states that if an individual party commits an act of war upon the government, the entire planet is held responsible and will be crushed until surrender of that party,” Hurricane replied to Paine.
“The Entity thinks we’re gonna surrender?” Insectiron yelled, “Well he can kiss my grits.” He then proceeded to vomit.
“Indeed,” said Viretta, before turning and pelting down the street. Tors ran awkwardly after her, followed by Trebular, Incision, Paine and Hurricane, with the staggering form of Insectiron bringing up the rear. Viretta turned, hearing not the footsteps, but the humming of Paine’s mobility scooter. She blew a kiss at the following party, if a kiss was a one-metre diameter sphere of electricity emitted from those rotten gloves of hers. The sphere shot down the street, forcing Department H to scatter and avoid it, while Viretta ran and called, “oh, boys!”
Then the terror began.
*
“It’s the Urban Terrorists!” said the hippy Quing absent-mindedly, watching from a rooftop. However, the Terrorist directly in front of him heard and turned. He had metallic, obviously robotic, legs, just one flesh and blood arm and one arm which the flesh had somehow turned itself inside out and transformed into a cannon. He also had only one eye, the other being a dark red circle; a targeting system. However, he never got a chance to use these weapons as the Quing roundhouse kicked him in the face, sending him flying off the building and landing in front of Viretta, who simply walked over him as if he were a rug. More Terrorists were advancing on Department H, who appeared to be armless, lest from Paine, who had a mobility scooter embroidered with weapons, and Tors, who had somehow hidden his twin katana in his jacket and was now holding them in an cross at a Terrorist’s throat. Insectiron, he noticed, was surrounded by three of the vile cyborgs. Quing checked his weapons: flower bomb, check; lighter, check- waitaminnit...he’s drunk...I have a lighter. Oh god, please say it’s possible.
He leapt silently off of the building and sprinted to Insectiron, who was yelling at the Terrorists in a drunken rage. The Terrorists aimed. Insectiron received a clap on the back. He burped. But this was no ordinary burp; this was an almighty belch, riddled with alcohol which, due to the Quing’s lighter in front of his mouth, had now met fire. A stream of fire came out of Insectiron’s mouth, engulfing the Terrorist in front of him, destroying his face. The targeting eye exploded, emitting more smoke than any smoke grenade. The other two Terrorists coughed and spluttered, then one by one choked as the Quing quickly assassinated them with his bare hands. Insectiron coughed, then spluttered, “thanks buddy,” but the Quing had already disappeared.
*
General Paine thundered towards a group of Terrorists at a whopping speed of two miles per hour. Getting bored of the slow process, he put the scooter to “self-drive” mode, and then pressed a little button on the steering wheel, a design flaw it must be said seeing as it was the eject button. The seat refused. Paine punched the button and the seat flipped violently forwards, catapulting him at the Terrorists.
A shadow fell over the Terrorists, who were just having an idle chat. They looked up to see what appeared to be a small moon falling on them. They screamed.
Whomp! And the Terrorists were gone. Paine picked himself up, lifted up a fold of fat and picked a pistol out: that was how he smuggled weapons, in his fat. Upon hearing the faint whirring of a cybernetic limb behind him, he turned, dropped to the floor and shot the cyborg square in the face. Paine ignored the blood and sparks, sat on his mobility scooter and ate a doughnut. 
*
Viretta jogged down the street away from the Terrorists, a difficult feat on six-inch stiletto-like heels which were sharpened to a point for a backup melee weapon. Not entirely necessary because of the electromagloves, but for her complete mastery, or mistressy of an ancient martial art perfected by Xylonian monks, but then became commercialised when they decided to spend all of the money they had on scented candles, thus making them bankrupt and homeless.  Viretta had turned back to check on the Terrorists’ progress when her vision went pink with sun-coloured daisies dotted around. She squinted curiously, then took a step back and roundhouse kicked the Hippy Quing, for of course it was he. He caught her leg, and threw her to the ground. He lit a cigarette and took a long deep puff. Viretta took advantage of this distraction and twisted her body around, knocking his feet out from underneath him. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, cigarette still sticking out of his mouth comically through wraps on the ninja-esque garment. 
“You thought to tangle with me?” she spat viciously. 
“What are you?” asked the Quing, words drawn out.
“A...chick from another world,” she said, matching her lexis with the Quing’s frame of mind.
“Dude, we’re all from another world,” he said thickly, again drawn out.
Viretta shook her head and pressed a small light blue button on her thumb. It went beep very loudly. Something happened elsewhere, but we’ll get to that later.
She walked away from the Quing and into the horizon.
*
The new municipal scrap yard was an abyss of rusting metal; filled with piles of random vehicles lying around. In the centre was a large sphere made entirely of scrap metal, held together by a giant electromagnet: a lump of iron connected to an infinicharge box, which provided a constant stream of never ending electricity to the iron, thus forming the electromagnet. When Viretta had pushed the blue button, a dynamo she had put there on her way to New York hovered up into the air and hovered at roughly at seven hundred feet. A piece of iron was attached to it, which flashed bright neon blue before sending out a strong electromagnetic pulse through the scrap yard. Tonnes of scrap metal jumped to the dynamo and formed a vague U shape with two rough arms attached at the top which were linked to a pyramid command core in the dip of the U. A few busted tanks sat on its knuckles which had newly formed with a rough hand. Eventually, the sphere of scrap moved and attached itself to a chain of thick scrap which held the sphere magnetically, so that it could move. This amalgamation had now surpassed a thousand foot and trundled along on the ball, escaping the scrap yard. This was Viretta’s grand project. This was Afanisei, the war machine she created at the equivalent of university.
*
The Quing got up to find himself lying near an abandoned car and covered in petrol, surrounded by Terrorists; a group of at least twenty. Several cocked their guns when they saw his eyelids flicker open. He groaned a couple of times and lit yet another cigarette. He took a couple of puffs and politely offered it offered one to the Terrorists, who declined rudely.
“Dude, what’s your problem?” he asked.
“Yu,” replied who appeared to be the alpha male of the group, “we’s gonna kill yu.”
“Dude, uncool,” the Quing leapt through the pack of Terrorists, spitting his cigarette into the pool of petrol. The Terrorists turned to follow the Quing, who darted down the street. The fuel ignited and flames drew ever closer to the car.
“Get him!” yelled one of the Terrorists, “what’s the worst that could happen?”
Boom.
The fiery trail had burned its way back to the car’s engine, met more petrol and exploded, scattering the Terrorists in a ball of orange heat, leaving them unconscious. The Quing watched: Tors behead two Terrorists in one fluid motion that was marked by a trail of blood; Hurricane collapse in a corner, hugging his knees and shaking whilst Incision shot Terrorists stone dead with his dark grey M-18 pistol, standard Department H issue; Emola, holding the hem of his dress down with one hand, and stabbing Terrorists with Tahkshi’s dagger; Trebular sending blue bolts of magic at the Terrorists and the pavement beneath them, which crumpled and swallowed them up until, finally, the dysfunctional group had finally beaten the Urban Terrorists.
They cheered. They high fived. The Quing ran to join them in their victory and lit yet another cigarette. Tors searched the burnt out shops for some better trousers. Paine ate another doughnut. In their ecstasy, they forgot about the one who held two spheres of electricity in her hands, the one who threw them directly at the celebrating group.
Viretta.
The group turned when they heard a slight electrical cackling like the noise that an old TV would make. They saw the three thousand volt ball of electricity strike the Quing square in the chest, slamming him to the floor and twitching uncontrollably.
“Trebular, heal him!” Tors yelled, “Rest of you, secure the perimeter!”
“Why? What’re you doing?” asked Insectiron urgently.
“Putting an end to this madness!” Tors drew his katana from the sheaths on his back and ran full pelt at Viretta, who stood stock still with a scowl of pure defiance. “You’ve overstepped the line, Viretta!” he yelled.
“What line,” Viretta asked, “the line between genius and insanity? Because I crossed that line years ago. All insanity is, is the ability to think outside the box. And in my opinion, you need to build a bond between yourself and the natural world to do this. I tore away barriers between me and nature, and i gained this knowledge and power.”
“So, that’s why the no-clothes, right?”
“Yeah.”
Tors shook his head and swung one sword at Viretta, but a magnetic blast knocked it out of her hand. He watched it go in dismay, then snapped his head back round just in time to see her pointed heel come up and round to greet him, carving through his right cheek. He tumbled backwards and smashed into the tarmac, agony surging through his cheek and spine. She looked at her glove again and pressed the blue button impatiently, then growled uncharacteristically. Tors crawled helplessly back to the others, grabbing his katana and a slightly torn pair of green trousers on the way.
Then it went from bad to worse.
*
Afanisei swept into the streets of New York, now equipped with the city’s ground to air defences on its shoulders. The beacon was near now.
*
Viretta noticed the blue button flashing and looked down to see a long shadow. She smiled and pressed the red button on his other glove. As the signal reached the remote detonator in Maria’s office at the Pentagon, every light and everything electrical in New York City switched off, along with the streetlights, plunging the street into darkness. Department H drew together as Tors tried to put the trousers on, but they all jumped when Afanisei smashed through a twenty storey building and revealed itself to Department H.
Viretta smirked and summoned Afanisei to pick her up. It obliged, lowering a crude hand to the road. She jumped on and was lifted to the command core, which was where the self-exciting dynamo that fuelled Afanisei was contained. She dropped in and re-familiarized herself with the controls by sending a couple of missiles at the road, creating trenches that rivalled those created by Afanisei on its way. She turned Afanisei to face the cowering insects known as Department H and it trundled forwards.
The machine carved literally through the street, causing a deep trench in the road, complete with sewage and various diseases and even a few ammo shells dropped by the fallen Terrorists. In the action of pulling looser trousers on, Tors looked around at his comrades: Insectiron, stumbling around in a drunk stupor; Emola, running from Afanisei whilst holding his frilly dress down to keep at least some dignity; Hurricane shuddered in a corner, his addiction to yoghurt finally getting the better of him; Paine was actually trying to go head to head with Afanisei on his mobility scooter, yet failing miserably, barely avoiding barrages of missiles; the ones that used to protect New York, but this irony occurred to none  apart from the vengeful Viretta at the controls. Lastly, Incision and Trebular had loaded the Quing and a few of the living Terrorists into an ambulance that then fled the city. Tors had got his trousers on now and was ready to kick bottom.
Sky scrapers shattered and fell as Afanisei swept through the streets towards Fifth Avenue, missiles flying from its hunched square shoulders, obliterating large chunks of the buildings before either an arm rushed forth to annihilate it or the building just fell beneath Afanisei’s mighty wheel. In the command core of the mechanical monster sat Viretta, thoroughly enjoying the smell of smoke and the sound of explosions; the very taste of battle. She cackled quietly to herself at her sick vengeance and pressed a relatively large red button with a picture of a blue lightning bolt on it; probably salvaged from a train signal box. Then again, the rails that came out of the opening arms were most definitely train tracks. The arms had creakily swung open to allow the tracks to unfurl out into some sort of whips. The arm then closed again before the tracks glowed bright blue as they became imbued with electricity, forty thousand volts worth, too.
Paine was the first to go down. Zooming down the rapidly disintegrating street, he had almost no chance when Afanisei swung an arm at the pavement that Paine was on, sending the whip and a subsequent forty thousand volts into his scooter. He rolled off just in time and ran (or waddled) from what was now a non-ticking time bomb as the sparks edged closer to the fuel and ammunition.
The resultant explosion threw even the well-fed bulk of Paine into the air, just not much.
Trebular turned to see Paine fly through the air and couldn’t stop a grin sneaking onto his face. “Incision, keep an eye out for Terrorists, will ya?” without waiting for an answer, Trebular ran away, sprinting down the street towards Afanisei, dodging missiles before they hit and avoiding the larger craters. Just fire a missile at me, he thought, tempting fate, make my day. And, as if by some sort of spiteful telepathy, Viretta aimed a missile directly at him. He ducked down to pick up a length of wire as the missile drew closer. He straightened up. It got closer.
Closer.
“Trebular, no!” sounded a faint voice from somewhere behind him. He ignored them; this was no time for hesitation, the missile was barely a metre away. Trebular jumped briefly, landing directly on top of the missile’s grey shaft before wrapping the wire around the width of the missile to act as crude reins which he held in both hands. He pulled to right, causing the missile to veer to the left until it turned a full three hundred and sixty degrees and was facing Afanisei once again. Trebular felt like the world’s- no, the universe’s greatest surfer as he steered the makeshift “surfboard” towards through the air borne obstacle course, manoeuvring through the oncoming shells from the duff tanks on Afanisei’s knuckles, electrical whips which he narrowly avoided only by crouching and zooming through the rungs on the train tracks until he was no longer hindered and the missile zoomed straight into the command core, using the force of the explosion to propel himself into the air. He drew back his right fist and several small spheres gathered there, forming one larger sphere around the fist. The sphere launched at Afanisei, which then disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. Trebular smiled warmly as he stood on a platform of air, but his expression soon changed when a barrage of explosive shells emerged from within the black cloud. Despite all of Trebular’s best dodging and acrobatic skills, one shell scraped against his arm, knocking him off balance and plummeting to the street below. He clicked his fingers, desperately trying to float again, but he need a calm mind and that was something he didn’t have whilst plummeting roughly nine hundred feet to his death. Barely a metre from the ground, he finally managed to float once more, but the effort consumed him, and he fell unconscious to the floor, mostly unharmed.
Insectiron sighed as he noticed Trebular’s body. He had just dragged Paine’s body into a safe-ish structure. The effects of alcohol were wearing off now, thankfully. But, still all he had was his pistol, which probably wouldn’t even dent the blasted machine. Even the Quing’s flame breath trick would be useless against this thing, he thought hopelessly, and my cheeks are burning are burning with pain after that. Ooh, bad pun. At least I didn’t say it aloud. Then he realised that he had said it aloud and swore loudly at this predicament.
He picked up Trebular’s arms and pulled him across the once even terrain. Sweat trickled down Insectiron’s forehead as the effort and desperation of the day finally caught up with him. The alcohol hadn’t helped, giving him a pounding headache that battered the walls of his skull like an enraged animal trying to escape. Eventually, he dumped Trebular next to Paine and looked at the machine of death. 
Emola decided to be brave and courageous now, picking up a Terrorist’s arm and taking it apart, retrieving the ammunition pods. These pods were just the right size to fit into his pistol, but were actually small impact explosives. Clever. Emola picked them up and loaded them into the pistol. After turning to face Afanisei, he jumped backwards in shock: it was closer than he expected. It was truly a nightmarish sight to behold: a medley of colours tainted with burnt black and electric blue forming some sort of fearsome collage, the titanic machine was half shrouded in smoke from either friction or the sheer amount of explosives it fired into buildings, vehicles or just random areas. One air-to-air missile even took out a poor pigeon, although it was the shock of impact that killed it, not the resultant explosion that took out an adjacent office block.
Deciding that Afanisei’s weak point was the bonds attaching the main body of the machine to the ball, he emptied an entire ammo clip into one of the four bonds. It did not buckle. It did not break. Hell, it didn’t even chip. Emola’s jaw dropped and a tear of hopelessness glistened in his eye. Why did we ever come to Earth? He thought as he narrowly avoided an electrical bolt from Viretta in the command core; she had a few holes in the glass. Tors had already noticed this and, when an arm was lowered to ground level, leapt up onto the arm and climbed up it, the uneven surface making great handholds. Emola ran back and forth whilst loading ordinary bullets into the pistol and firing at the command core; a futile effort, but a good distraction for Tors, who had now reached the shoulder, ducking low to avoid being caught up in the missile’s take off from their silos. Tors looked around, horrified at the amount of destructive capability at Viretta’s fingertips. Then, he drew the twin katana and dived headlong off the shoulder into the metaphorical belly of the quite realistic beast, katana pointing right in front of him, hoping to shatter the glass of the command core.
The flaw in his plan became apparent.
The katana blade was metal. Viretta was the mistress of magnetism. This machine was obviously built today, because otherwise someone would’ve seen it descend from space. So it must be held together by something easy to make and use: a self-exciting dynamo, or everlasting electromagnet. The flaw hit Tors with an amazing force: the force of magnetism. His twin katana rushed towards the command core, sticking to its side, swinging Tors around to slam him into the window which appeared to be a reinforced windscreen. Ribs burning as they cracked, he opened his eyes fractionally to see Viretta laughing at him like a loon. Tors growled out of humiliation. Viretta walked over to the window and asked, “Tors?”
“Yes, Viretta?” he answered uncertainly.
“What’re ya doin’?”
“Just hangin’ around, ya know...hangin’ around.”
“Please, no more bad puns. Now, go hang around elsewhere.”
“Can you let me down, then? Gently?”
“Well, I can let you down.”
Tors chuckled then asked, “Gently?”
Viretta glared at him, “what do ya think?”
“Please?”
“No.” Electricity leapt from her fingertips and went through the glass pane, hitting Tors straight in the chest. He dropped from a height of approximately seven hundred feet. 
Emola was left speechless as he watched Tors plummet to the harsh surface, while hoping for a soft landing. Insectiron looked up, gasped, and quickly implemented a plan to minimise pain, yet maximise Paine. . He grabbed one tree trunk-like leg of Paine and dragged him underneath where Tors was falling. This dragging was fuelled by a sudden burst of strength, much like the one a good mother gets when trying to pull a tree off of her child, or the one when a bad mother tries to push a tree onto her child. Tors landed, screaming all the way, onto the soft regions of Paine (everywhere) and was soon smothered by layers upon layers of fat.  Insectiron pulled Tors out of the fat and noticed he was unconscious. Insectiron sighed and dragged both of them to the safe area. 
Incision, having decided that no more Terrorists would be stupid enough to come here, went to get in on the action. He ran at Afanisei, not quite sure of what to do. If none of the others could damage it, what could he do?
Before he could answer this question, an exploding shell took up his path and he was thrown backwards across the street, straight into Insectiron. Insectiron rose, annoyed at the impact, before roaring in pure rage of having to be the body dragger.
Emola jogged over to the forgotten Hurricane, who had been watching with fearful eyes. “Hurricane,” Emola said, “we need you.”
Hurricane looked up at him, pale as snow, “I...I can’t,” he breathed weakly, voice broken and cracked, “leave me alone.”
Emola scowled and yelled, “Snap out of it, man! You have an addiction, so what? Are ya gonna let that beat you? I thought you were strong, but you’re just as weak as Foton implied you are!”
“Piss off!” Hurricane groaned; that had hit a nerve. If there was anything that he couldn’t stand, it was insults that were justifiable. A mini cyclone began to form in his palm, but soon faded due to its master’s weakness. “Go away.”
Emola pointed to where Insectiron was dragging his brother’s unconscious body to safety. “Look at them! Your friends are getting slaughtered. You could save them. Or damn them. It’s your choice, buddy.” Emola walked away from Hurricane, never looking back.
“Wait.”
Emola turned back to Hurricane, who said, a little stronger, “help me up, mate.” He held his hand out and Emola pulled him to his feet and clapped him on the back before beckoning Insectiron over.
“Let’s do this.”
The trio stood in a triangle with Emola at the central point and looked up at Afanisei, who was progressing down the street at an alarming rate. They broke their stance and sprinted down the street, trying to shoot at the glass command core, but it was too far away for the short-range weapons to hit. The she-beast Viretta responded with a barrage of gunfire from a few of the rail-guns near the command core, which snapped at the back of their heels, totally eradicating the road behind them. Emola tripped over an exposed sewage pipe and became covered by the toxic sewage that flowed from it. 
Viretta was getting bored now, and thus decided to send a few missiles down on them. Missile after missile impacted with the ground. Insectiron and Hurricane both put their arms up to shield themselves from shrapnel; shrapnel that hit Emola, knocking him out. The duo kept on running, looking for anything they could use as a weapon. Although, in their defence, there isn’t much to use in a city that has no army bases or weapons stores, although they wouldn’t sell anything that would affect Afanisei. Viretta noticed that the duo had evaded the missiles and finally used Afanisei’s devastating close range finisher. She pushed the red and blue buttons at the same time. The central dynamos aligned their magnetic fields with the command core and each other. The armour around the dynamos, AKA, the entire makeup of Afanisei, flew away from the dynamo a few metres, slamming into the duo and knocking them flying and unconscious; normally the effect of having tonnes of metal slammed into you.
The command core opened like a bud, as in the sides peeled down. Viretta leapt out of the core, landing on the hard tarmac in a stance in which she was on one knee, denting the ground. How she survived the seven hundred foot drop was simple; she had studied the art of Dýnami, which not only dealt in the fighting style, but also in the art of survival. She rose again and jogged to the fallen ones and dragged them into Afanisei’s palm. She counted them up, before noticing that Hurricane was missing. Ah, well, she thought, he’s probably dead, then. She jumped onto Afanisei’s palm and it carried them to the command core. She dumped the inside, and then found a plain white plastic bag in a niche in the wall. She turned it upside down, allowing dozens of frilly, pink handcuffs to drop to the floor. She handcuffed Department H to each other, and their hands to their ankles. They couldn’t do anything but kneel before her in her glory. The core closed once again and Viretta turned Afanisei to see the very object of her destruction.
The Empire State Building. 
*
Hurricane came round quicker than he had expected; he hadn’t expected to come round at all. He rubbed his eyes and his vision cleared to reveal...
“Pandora? The fuck you doing here?”
“Nice. Real nice, Hurricane,” she said in a voice that made your skin crawl, “good way to treat the girlfriend who just saved your life.”
“Really? Gee, thanks.”
“I also got rid of your addiction and completely refreshed your body.”
“We had sex?”
“No, you twat. That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Sorry, I was sorta sleep-talking. How’d you do that?”
“You know about my mind powers, dear.”
“Oh, yeah, them things. Forgot.”
“Anyway, you should probably go and help your friends.”
“Yeah, I should.” He turned to leave, then remembered something, “how did you get here and know I was gonna be here?”
But she was gone. He shrugged and stepped out of the back alley and looked along the street. Afanisei punched the Empire State Building, shattering the middle of it, taking it straight out. The symbol that had stood for America was shattered. In the days following this, many Americans wept at the sight of the building falling. Hurricane had to make his move now. The spire of the Empire State building became magnetised, and attached itself to Afanisei’s arm. Hurricane yelled to the metal beast, “Viretta! C’mere!”
 Afanisei turned and Viretta grinned, “Hurricane! How nice of you to join us! Now die.” A barrage of missiles headed straight for him, but he stood stock still, arms wide open. Tors, who was now conscious again, yelled something, but it was lost in the missile’s explosions. But no smoke surrounded Hurricane, instead surrounding Afanisei. “What?” Viretta asked, stunned.
“I am the human Hurricane, Viretta,” Hurricane yelled to her, “it was easy enough to divert your missiles right back at you.”
Tors cheered and received another kick in the face, but this time no heel touched him. 
“Well, Hurricane, that you can do, but how can you destroy Afanisei without killing your friends?” Viretta asked cruelly.
“Easily.”
“Really?” Viretta pushed a button that was newly glowing with light, “Eat compound laser!”
The spire of the Empire State Building lit up at its four corners, before emitting four lasers which hit the point of the spire and became one compound laser, which fired directly at Hurricane, who had moved behind Afanisei and sent a cyclone straight at the command core. The laser instead hit a passing Concorde, which was disintegrated by the strange laser. The cyclone hit the command core and shattered the glass, dropping everyone inside to the ground. Hurricane caught his friends in a cyclone, lowering them to the ground gently before sending another twister at the dynamo inside, causing Afanisei to finally collapse down on Viretta.
They had won.
They had also lost.
When he awoke, Trebular healed their injuries, most of which were fatal and life threatening, like Tors’s broken spine and Paine’s collapsed lung
The winds of Hurricane had woken the others now, and they congratulated Hurricane before Paine ordered that they all get out of here, in case of police questioning. They arrived back at Area 51 later that night, but none could sleep, even after their midnight debriefings. 
*
Entity demounted Aetos Dios when they arrived in Mandraki and he soon found a place to lodge. The next day, he planned to go to one of the craters on the island and find the key.
The key to Atlantis, the city of the gods.
































































Day Three: The Day Of Reckoning




























Chapter 5: The Devil Wears Strata
The government had finally realised that Maria hadn’t come back from her break and broke into her apartment. Inside the apartment, they found no trace of life until they heard her muffled screams. They finally found her in a battered wardrobe, locked shut with an abnormally large padlock. They cut the padlock with a pair of bolt-cutters that they had used to enter the building with minimum damage to the property. She rolled out, tied with thick brown ropes and gagged with a white handkerchief and a strip of duct tape. They ripped it off, causing her to wince before they unbound her at last. She trembled, and then collapsed into their arms, sobbing all the way.
The Department H operatives took advantage of this, pulling out a long thin needle and pushing it into her arm, before pushing the plunger. She winced, then went limp and fell into a slumber. She snored quietly as they loaded her into the back of a plain white van. They jumped in themselves and drove the long trek to the nearest airport, where they dragged her into a private jet and flew to Area 51. There, they put Maria into a room all by herself with nothing but a little video camera and a couple of speakers. 
“Maria Corrigan?” asked the head operative.
“No!” the woman yelled, “She’s my next door neighbour. I was tied up by my abusive husband!”
The operatives looked at each other and shrugged, before filling the room with a purple gas, then taking the woman home.
That was the day of Afanisei’s rampage.
This is the day of the devil.
“Maria Corrigan?”
 “Yes.” Maria answered swiftly, being coughing; they had found her in her dusty attic, which was not an ideal place to be hidden, due to her asthma. 
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. One minute I was by my car, talking to some underdressed blonde chick, the next I wake up in my attic gagged and bound and having an asthma attack!” Maria composed herself quickly, deeply breathing, “Do you know what happened?”
“The blonde woman stole your key-card for the Pentagon and knocked you out and put you in the attic. She then went to the Pentagon, pretending to be you and put a device on your work station that would shut off power to New York. Afterwards, she went to New York-“
“Why?” she interrupted.
“No interruptions, Miss Corrigan. Anyway, she went to New York, aided by the Urban Terrorists and literally waged war on the city and the Department H operatives there. After the operatives had defeated the Terrorists, she summoned a machine known as Afanisei to destroy the city. The operatives were taken down, but eventually managed to destroy the machine.”
Maria was gobsmacked, and then asked, “Who was that woman?”
 “She was an alien hostile called Viretta.”
Maria chuckled, “alien? Seriously?”
“Do you need proof, Maria? Because that is what we at Department H do. We deal with aliens and the supernatural.”
“I didn’t think I’d heard of you people before. Covert?”
“Very. But I’m asking the questions, young lady. Now, if you could see proof, would you like to work for us?”
“What?”
“You heard us, so don’t pretend you didn’t. Y’see, we can’t have you telling people about us, so we need you to work with us or, we’ll have to wipe your memory, but we don’t like to do that because it causes brain damage ninety nine percent of the time.”
“So, this would sorta be...a promotion?”
“I guess. You live here; you get virtually unlimited pay, because we get the taxpayers money to buy whatever we like. The only downside is we can’t see our families. That’s why most of us are clones, bred for exactly this work.”
“Well, my family is dead, so that doesn’t matter to me. Selling my house wouldn’t be too bad, I guess. It’d just give me a bit of extra money to play with...and I don’t want brain damage either. I’ll take the job.”
“Ok,” said the operative, removing his mask to reveal the face of Tao. He sighed, then went into the same room as Maria and offered her his hand, “welcome to the team, Maria. I’ll give you a tour.” They shook hands, before Tao led her to his office and asked her to sign the standard Department H contract.
“What position am I here?” asked Maria inquisitively.
Tao stopped in his tracks and thought for a minute, before replying, “I dunno. Head of...erm...I know! Joint head of intelligence with one of the new aliens.”
“I get to work with aliens?” she asked, ecstatic.
“Oh, yeah. Let’s go see ‘em now.”
Maria followed, her feelings a mix of fear, anticipation and excitement. She was led into the cleaned-up rec room, where Paine and the aliens resided, not drunk this time; they had all learnt their lesson. “Maria, this is the rec room,” Tao explained, “and these are-”
“General Nathan Paine,” Paine said, slowly standing to shake her hand. Maria looked at him, disgusted by the vastness of his entirety.
“Ahem, yes Paine. Good to meet you,” Maria responded, opting to call him by his surname, just like everyone else.
“And these people, Maria, are our resident aliens. Boys, this is Maria Corrigan, our new head of intelligence. One of you will be her partner, depending on how I and Paine feel you do on your next mission. Which, knowing Entity’s plans, will probably be today or tomorrow. This is day three of what is being dubbed by the White house as “galaxy war I”. Thus, we can expect Entity or one of his lackeys to strike soon. I’m surprised that, given the spread of the escape pods, they did not strike on one day.” Tao finally realised the truth. “Oh my god...how could we have been so stupid? It’s a distraction! The Entity must be going somewhere, and thus he got his lackeys to distract us! Maria, go home and grab some things, we’re gonna need a head of intelligence. And, erm...”he pointed at each of the aliens in turn, trying to think about who was the most useless on the field, “Insectiron, you can be the other head of intelligence. Find out where Entity landed.”
“Yes sir!” answered Insectiron proudly.
“Paine will show you to your office, won’t you Paine?”
“Yes sir,” groaned Paine, annoyed at the fact that he had to move. He beckoned Insectiron to follow him before shuffling down the corridor. Maria followed them, going to leave the building with a couple of clones as to get an airlift to her old house.
Tao surveyed the group of aliens left, “I’m pleased with you guys. Not too many incidents caused and you managed to floor Afanisei. Your next mission may well be to take down Entity, so rest well.” He walked out of room, leaving the remaining aliens to chat amongst themselves.
“Hey, Incision,” Tors pondered, “you know the Enforcers, right?”
“I know of them, yeah. Why?” answered Incision curiously.
“What other beings are in the group?”
Incision thought back to his two years in the galactic army, where he had been called in to fight the army of the Cassandra galaxy. He remembered watching as the Enforcers arrived, led by the Entity. Incision and the rest of the army were not needed as the Enforcers slaughtered the other army. “There’s the scientist woman, who I now know is Viretta. There’s the Entity, that machine that’s in the lockdown room...erm...some young dude with some power or something, I don’t know...oh, the fire lady.”
“The fire lady...you already mentioned the hot one.” Hurricane joked casually. 
Everyone groaned and sighed at the god-awful pun. Incision glared at hurricane briefly, before saying, “No, Hurricane, an actual fire lady. Never seen anything like it in all my life. Like an ordinary woman, yet made of fire, beauty, yet demonic.”
“Sounds awesome.”
“And powerful, yes,” intervened Emola, “but remember, we have to fight that bitch.”
“Maybe. We might defeat the Entity first and they’ll all leave nicely.”
“In a dream world, yes,” muttered Incision.
“Hey guys,” said Insectiron as he re-entered the room, “you talking ‘bout Devilclash?”
“Eh?” spluttered Tors.
“Devilclash?” Hurricane asked.
“When did we mention something called Devilclash, ya twat?” barked Trebular.
“Explain, Insectiron.” Incision growled.
“You said the Enforcers’ fire lady, right? Her name is Devilclash and she wants to kill me.” Insectiron replied matter-of-factly.
Tors, Incision, Emola and Hurricane face-palmed before Trebular asked, “Insectiron, for the love of god, what happened?”
“Erm...I kinda...ahem...pushed her into a swimming pool.” Insectiron said awkwardly.
“She’s made of fire, you fool!” yelled Tors.
“I know, I know but there was pool party...we were there and I slipped and knocked her in.”
“How the hell did she survive?” asked Emola, who hadn’t said much.
“Apparently, there was one spark left, which she duplicated thanks to oxygen and became whole again. Then she tried to kill me, but I ran and left the planet.”
“Well, that is interesting,” rang Tao’s voice from down the hall.
“What is?” the five asked at once.
“There’s someone called Devilclash on the phone and she wants to talk to Insectiron.”
“Shit!” roared Insectiron for a very long time.
*
Silent Creeper crept silently around the deserted room. He moved over to the red sofa, which had lost most of its insides to the dead dog on the floor. Finally, he had found what he was looking for: the TV remote. He aimed at the TV and pressed the on button. Blind Assassin and Master Eye entered at that point, Master Eye carrying a picture of something that he had just printed from the old, nearly busted computer in the bedroom.
Since they had crashed on Earth and teleported far from Area 51, they had been trying to get the teleporters to work again. They had no success; Earth did not have an energy source powerful enough to fuel them. Blue Cloud had gone off to do something else; Master Eye did not know what. And now, Master eye believed that he had found an energy source powerful enough at last.
“This,” he stated, showing them the picture, “is uranium.”
“What is?” asked Blind Assassin.
“The power source we need,” answered Master Eye, “and possibly the most explosive thing on this planet apart from the planet itself. That is why we came here, to America, again. Holed up in this shack, I have researched and I now believe that this is our answer.”
“Where can we find it?” asked Blind Assassin.
“Any nuclear power station,” Master Eye replied chirpily.
The Silent Creeper moved his hands in quick, complex movements that signed, “Where is the nearest one?”
 “A mile or so down the road. I picked this shack for a reason. I had a suspicion that being near a potentially explosive area would come in handy.”
“Well,” asked Blind Assassin, “what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
And so they went to get their uranium, skipping down the street like total fools.
*
“You are joking, right?” asked Tors carefully.
“Only slightly joking. A fire lady has indeed been sighted in Brazil, and I would imagine that she would like to speak to Insectiron.” Tao answered seriously.
“You idiot!” Insectiron yelled, “You scared the life outta me!”
“Sorry, buddy, couldn’t resist. Anyway, you’re not going due to you being the head of intelligence,” Tao said, with a slight sarcastic twang. 
“Oh thank god,” Insectiron muttered.
“Just one question, if I may, Tao,” Trebular butted in, “how do you know that it is Devilclash and not just someone overreacting to a small flame in the forest?”
“We got pictures emailed to us by our agent there,” Tao said, passing a photo around, “this picture was taken with a thermal imaging camera.” In the photo was a stunning looking outline of a woman’s body, surrounded by the trees and plants of the Amazon Rainforest. Some sparks had flown off from the main female body and were hanging in the air around her, highlighted by areas of dark orange.
“Ok, we believe you now,” said Tors, handing the photo back.
“Ok then. I’ll take you guys outside. You’re gonna need the new experimental vehicle for this,” stated Tao, before yelling, “Paine! C’mere!”
Paine came slouching into the room, dragging his feet along the floor.
“Ready the Tri-vehicle,” ordered Tao. Paine nodded, before going to carry out the order.
“What’s his problem today?” asked Emola.
“He can’t use his mobility scooter,” replied Tao, before leading them through the corridors and into the Area 51 hangar and airfield. A few jet fighters, revamped Northrop YF-17s. Before only prototypes, these were now widely used across the world. They were a small and compact fighter plane, similar in size and design to the F-18 super hornet, which had been discontinued after World War three in favour of these more powerful, faster craft. They took up about half of the hangar, whereas outside, the main space transport of Department H sat upright in its righteous glory. This was a new style space shuttle, the same height approximately of a three storey house and the same width of an average bedroom. 
“Nice shuttle,” remarked Tors, impressed.
“Not really. It’s sort of a mess inside and it can only fly at the speed of sound, rather than yours that could go at light-speed,” Tao replied, always the pessimist. He led them over to where Paine was unlocking a large four by four. 
“That’s a four by four. What’s a Tri-vehicle?” asked Hurricane.
“That four by four. Notice the panels on top? They’re wings that can pop out for this to act as an aircraft. The boot has thrusters inside, so open the boot, push a button and, voila, ya got yourselves a space shuttle, just a miniature one. It worked in ninety percent of our tests,” Tao explained. 
“Ninety percent,” Tors asked, “what about the other ten percent?”
“It exploded.”
“Oh.”
“But,” Tao reassured, “we’ve fixed that problem now, haven’t we, Paine?”
“Oh yeah,” Paine grunted as Tao elbowed in the stomach.
“There’s a computer in the back, where I can send you important updates and vice versa, but, for some reason, if we try to send video through it, it explodes,” Tao said, before ushering them all in, “Ok, guys. Fly to Brazil, then drive into the rainforest and from there, explore on foot. Good luck, guys.”
“Thanks, Tao,” they chorused, before Paine and Tors slammed the doors shut. Paine took the wheel, then pulled a lever down. The panels on top opened and unfolded, revealing thin wings. The boot also opened, but only two of the five thrusters were required for flight, so only two were working as they sped forth and up into the morning air.
*
Blind Assassin, Master Eye and Silent Creeper had reached the nuclear power station, where a pair of iron gates greeted them. Master Eye looked at the gates, with their razor wire on top, and kicked them. An alarm sounded from the gates, alerting a small cabin near the employee car park. Master Eye hissed at the others to hide, which they did, seeking refuge in a bush next to the gates. A few seconds later, the gates swung open and a SWAT team of ten arranged themselves around the gates, muttering to each other and searching the area. “Go!” hissed Master Eye, nudging Blind Assassin in the ribs. The Assassin checked his weapons, then nodded. He emerged from the bushes, right behind one of the SWAT team. Blind Assassin pulled a hand slowly out of a pocket, clutching a small blade with quite elaborate decoration; decoration quite useless for a killing weapon. After the blade was out of his pocket, he rammed it into the guard’s throat, slicing the jugular in half. The guard died instantly, just a faint flump sound to alert his comrades.  They came running over, but the Assassin was gone. One guard removed his helmet to listen to his comrade’s heartbeat, and received a blade thrown into his temple. He collapsed to the floor, blood gushing from his wounds. The eight remaining guards were in disarray, forming a tight circle so that they could easily cover all three hundred and sixty degrees of vision. They carried nasty looking weaponry, in Master Eye’s opinion, particularly more so when pointed directly at the bush you were hiding in.
Blind Assassin was hiding, crouched, in a tree almost directly above the guards. Sensing their fear, yet still their overwhelming confidence, he dropped from the tree into the centre of the circle and drew two more knives and plunged each one into a guard’s throat. The other guards turned when they heard him land, but two more were dead. They pumped the triggers on their mean looking weapons, but the Assassin was gone; he had leapt up and over their heads, stabbing another guard on the way up. This evasion caused a couple of guards to shoot another, the bulletproof vests not powerful enough to stop such concentrated fire at such close range. There were three guards left now. “Stay together,” whispered one, but in the sort of whisper that travels far and wide, the sort of whisper that starts rumours or attracts attention to political scandals. 
Blind Assassin jumped from tree to tree, pursuing the guards as they ventured back towards the power plant. He ran along the open gates, grabbing a length of the razor wire. The guards spotted him at last, and aimed their guns, but before they could fire, he was gone. Behind them, he pulled one into a bush before strangling them with the razor wire, which also cut their throat. Two were left now, total panic consuming them; he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. A small dagger flew out of the bush and embedded itself in one guard’s chest, ripping through the bulletproof vest like a chainsaw through butter. He collapsed to the floor, eyes rolling back into his head, showing only the whites. The other guard threw up violently on the ground, before Master Eye grabbed him by the throat. “Well, you guards have lost to my Assassin,” Master eye hissed, “looks like we overestimated you humans.”
“You humans” did not bode well in the guard’s mind, although they did look human enough. Instead of saying anything about this, the guard remained silent and uttered, “go to hell.”
“Oh, that’s original, isn’t it?” Blind Assassin intervened.
“Yes, well...what’s your name?” Master Eye asked, tightening his grip on the guard’s throat.
“A-Alan,” he gasped, struggling for air.
“Ok, Alan. Where in the power plant is the uranium kept?” continued Master Eye, viciously thumping Alan in the stomach.
“I don’t know,” Alan winced in pain as Silent Creeper scraped his jagged claws across his face, cutting deep.
“Try harder Alan,” Master Eye yelled, delivering a kick to Alan’s shin.
“I don’t know...somewhere deep within the plant. Probably near the reactor,” Alan said, trying to be calm and overcome his fear and pain.
“Ok then,” said Master Eye, “Creeper, go get our Uranium.” Silent Creeper left and headed for the reactor room, ripping a vent off the outside of the building to get inside. “Alan, now, what do we do with you?” Master Eye looked at Blind Assassin, “kill him.”
Assassin obliged.
*
The Amazon Rainforest was a spectacular sight thanks to its towering treetops, stunning wildlife and a newfound absence of loggers, thanks to the new deforestation laws that stated that the rainforest be left well enough alone. Due also to these laws, the group from Department H had to leave the Tri-vehicle at a lodge just outside the rainforest. The lodge was all wood, and owned by a lovely couple who were more than happy to help the government, which always made a nice change. Even so, Paine took the keys, refusing to let the couple park the Tri-vehicle for them. 
“I was thinking,” Hurricane said carefully.
“That makes a nice change,” joked Emola.
“Shut up, Emola. Y’know Devilclash is made of fire, right?” continued Hurricane.
“Yes, Hurricane. That’s what we’ve seen and been told,” answered Paine more than sarcastically.
“Shut up, Paine. Well, if she is made only of fire, then how did Insectiron push her in the pool?”
They stood still for a moment and pondered this. “How, indeed?” Tors wondered out loud.
“Maybe,” Trebular suggested, “she’s a golem.”
“No! Not a bloody golem!” exclaimed Tors.
“That was sorta what I was thinking,” Hurricane agreed with Trebular.
“What’s a grotty Golem?” Paine asked, in a way that was far too polite for him.
“Basically, a Golem is an entity that is only made up of a small amount of substance, for example fire, water, electricity. Golems would be made of this element primarily, but they can build themselves a...an armoured shell, I guess, out of anything around the place like rocks or vegetation,” Trebular, the walking encyclopaedia explained.
“Sounds like a load of tough shit,” exclaimed Paine, in his more usual fashion.
“You’re right, blue hair,” a voice rang from amongst the trees, “but the true name for my kind is not Golem, but Pyrkagias.”  
“Oh,” Incision noted, “I thought Golem was just an urban slang word.”
“Yes, Insectiron,” the voice hissed, “but it was a word that then encompassed my species. But we are Pyrkagias!”
“I’m not Insectiron,” yelled Incision, who, throughout his life, was sick of others get the two of them mixed up, even though they looked quite different now.
“But you have his scent, his face, his structure,” hissed Devilclash from up in the trees. They could see her now, a blazing flame surrounded by various rocks and vegetation of differing sizes, none were touching another, just held on by the feminine shaped flame that shaped the armour into a female shape, too. Her hands were unarmoured, left as sharp claws of flame that were far too large for her body. Her head was the most frightening part of her. Fire showed through the small eye slits and, when she opened her rocky mouth, fire shone through there, too. Small amounts of smoke poured out of her nostrils when she spoke and her red, fiery hair flowed down to her knees. She was larger than all of the rest of the group; they quickly noticed when she stood at an impressive ten foot high. 
“I’m not bloody Insectiron,” growled Incision, “I’m his twin brother, Incision.”
“I’ve heard that excuse a lot, y’know,” Devilclash responded, climbing squirrel-like slowly down the tree, “identical twins, are you?”
“Yes, we are. And it’s not an excuse,” Incision spat.
“Liar!” roared Devilclash.
“Look,” Tors interrupted, “enough arguing, you two. Devilclash, what are doing? Why are you here?”
Devilclash was on the ground now and she walked slowly over to Tors, towering four feet above him. “I’m here on the Enforcers’ duty,” she answered, “to do as the Entity commands.”
“And what does he command?” asked Paine.
“That we-”
“Distract?” Hurricane interrupted.
Devilclash shifted awkwardly, and then replied, “Yeah, that’s about the gist of it, I guess. The Entity just wants to get his sword and we’ll leave again.”
“What’s so special about that sword?” asked Emola.
“It is not just any sword, but a sword of godly power. It is one of the four swords in the Lost Legend, which you know all about, don’t you, Insectiron?”
“I’m not fucking Insectiron!” yelled Incision, face turning red with rage.
“Ok, I’m gonna stop winding you up now, ‘kay? Now, Entity told me to keep anyone who has the power to investigate busy, so here I am.” Devilclash said seriously.
“That bastard,” Trebular muttered casually.
“You take that back!” roared Devilclash.
“Nah,” Trebular replied quickly.
“Entity is a nice guy once you get to know him,” she said defensively.
“Yeah, if he doesn’t wage war on you,” Trebular contradicted.
“You idiot! Earth waged war on us by firing on our ship!” Devilclash yelled, lunging for Trebular, who sidestepped out of the way of the fiery claws. “How could you be so stupid? The lot of you!”
“I haven’t even said anything,” observed Hurricane wrongly.
“You will die by my claws. Especially you, blue hair!” She lunged for Trebular, who tried to sidestep, but tripped over a tree root and went down on the ground, where Devilclash pounced on him and clawed at his chest, tearing layers of skin and muscle off. Tors drew his katana, and swung them at Devilclash, who leapt backwards to avoid them.
“Hurricane, get Trebular outta here!” ordered Paine, pushing Hurricane towards Trebular.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Devilclash hissed, trying to get past the wall of Emola, Tors, Paine and Incision, but they blocked her with katana and gunshots. 
Hurricane picked up Trebular and put Trebular over his shoulder, then ran through the forest. He heard Devilclash’s scream of rage as he swiped at the four opposing her, knocking them to the floor, and then chasing after Hurricane and Trebular, slicing through the ancient trees to create shortcuts. Hurricane looked around, panicked, then continued running. Devilclash emerged from behind him and followed him. He looked back and sped up, fearing her claws. But, she was faster and she quickly caught up and lunged at him-
Tors appeared, jumping down from a low branch, his katana going straight through Devilclash’s fiery elbow, cutting off the lower arm. She screeched in anger. “Run, Hurricane!” yelled Tors as he was joined by the others.
 Devilclash tutted and said darkly, “now you’re on my to-kill list, boys.” She span, red and orange flickering balls of fire appearing in her hand, which she threw at each of them, but only Paine was not agile enough to avoid the fireballs, taking it straight in the stomach. He winced and his stomach burned, but still he continued to oppose Devilclash, reaching into his folds to get a large pipe-like object that was covered at one end and had a trigger on one side. Paine held the RPG weapon in both hands on his shoulder and aimed at Devilclash. She leapt for him. He pulled the trigger. The rocket propelled grenade flew at Devilclash, exploding on contact. 
“Well, that should at least shatter her armour,” Emola said sardonically, “how in hells did that thing fit in your fat, anyhow?”
“Hopefully and none of your business,” replied Paine not-so-nicely.
The smoke cleared and Devilclash could be seen. There was no change in her, apart from that some of the rock were cracked and split. “You fool,” Devilclash said calmly, “you aim to distract me won’t work.”
“Just like yours then,” Incision fired back. 
“Touché,” responded Devilclash.
“Touch?” asked Tors, confused.
“No, some people use the word as a sign of mutual defeat or agreement,” explained Devilclash. Paine nodded approvingly.
“Why? That’s stupid?” Emola asked.
“That’s Earthens for ya,” she replied.
Hurricane had reached the lodge where the nice couple stayed and knocked frantically on the door. The nice woman came to the door, took about a minute unlocking it, then opened it, took one look at Trebular and said, “Come in, dear.”
Hurricane did so, following the man’s instructions to put him in the spare room. The woman went to call the doctor, but hurricane stopped her, “don’t. Please.”
“Why?” barked the woman, “he’s bloody dying up there!”
“No. Y’see...he can heal himself. He told me on the way over that he was in a healing trance or something. It’ll take a few hours, and the American government will compensate you greatly.” Hurricane explained hurriedly.
The couple thought for a few minutes, then agreed with nods. Hurricane gave them two thousand dollars that were in his wallet and left with goodbyes. “Remember,” he said lastly, “when he wakes up, he can go. He’ll be fine.” 
Devilclash was getting annoyed with Tors now. He found all of her weak points and sliced them, cutting that part off. Yes, she could just re-grow it, but it was quite painful, and very annoying. Emola wasn’t doing much, but he and Incision were standing back with Paine and shooting her armour off, sending splinters of rock flying through the air behind her. She grabbed Tors’s katana and threw him into a tree. “I burn it down,” she hissed, throwing fireballs at the trees around them, igniting them. Fire burnt quickly through the wood, plunging the group into a hellish place. As Hurricane ran back through the forest, burning trees fell down in front of him, forcing him to take a longer route to the clearing where Devilclash was fighting. Branches and leaves fell down, crushing wildlife as it tried to escape the flames. “Welcome to my own hell,” Devilclash roared, leaping at Tors, who rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being torn apart like the tree was. She lifted the remnants of the tree, and threw it like a javelin at Emola, who ducked and let it soar over his head. Hurricane arrived at the clearing now and conjured up a cyclone, which spun its way towards Devilclash, scattering her part all over the place. The sparks were swept away. All but one. This one spark grew larger as it met the air again, forming the flame form of Devilclash. “Fools!” she roared, “as long as one spark remains, I will be reborn and begin the blaze anew!” She flew at Hurricane, who threw another cyclone at her, which threw her through the forest. Department H followed her blazing trail to the river bank where she stood, cornered. However, she had acquired more rocks, which formed her a new armour, with no gaps and thus, no place for Tors to attack. She looked pretty sturdy this time and didn’t even budge when Hurricane threw a twister at her. 
“Well, boys,” she drawled, “it’s time to give up.”
“No,” said Hurricane, “you hurt my friend and comrade and now you will pay.”
“What are you gonna do? Eh?” Devilclash yelled. Birds in the remaining, non-burning trees flew up and away at the sound of her rasping voice, “what can you do? You’re pathetic!”
“Not really. Y’see, look up.” Hurricane ordered.  She did so. And the water that hurricane had lifted with a miniature tornado was dropped on her, entering her impenetrable body through her eyes. The water swept through the body, destroying the fire where it was met and eventually, the body collapsed into its base rocks. The group all breathed a sigh of relief, then looked back at the forest, or what used to be a forest. This beautiful scene destroyed by the force of fire, turning the forest into a blackened, dark place. 
Emola, Incision and Tors high fived Hurricane, who had once again saved them. Paine told Tors and Emola to clear up here while the others went back to the lodge. Paine checked on Trebular, who was still in a trance, and gave the elderly couple a cheque for three thousand dollars. They were quite delighted. Hurricane told Tao what had happened via the computer in the Tri-vehicle. Tao said that he’d send a jet for Trebular soon.
Emola and Tors were checking the area for any clues as to where the Enforcers would strike next, but found nothing. Instead, they went to check for sparks of Devilclash.
*
The Entity woke and called upon Aetos Dios to fly him to the Nisyros caldera, where the entrances to the undersea volcano lay await. Entity approached the largest crater, which was named Polivotis and walked to the dead centre. He drew the Beta sword, and plunged it into the centre. The crater rumbled and changed shape, a tunnel forming where Entity had stabbed it. Entity grinned and jumped down into the bubbling pit of lava known as Nisyros.
*
Silent Creeper, Master Eye and Blind Assassin were back at their shack now. Master Eye inspected the uranium, which Silent Creeper had retrieved, and smiled warmly to himself as a feeling of accomplishment kicked in. Also, he was in charge at the moment, which always gave him a warm fuzzy feeling. He threw the uranium to Silent Creeper, who began to put the teleporters back together.
*
Tao was sitting at his desk in his office, when a knock at the door interrupted his train of thought. “Come in!” he ordered, slightly irritated.
A clone entered the room, “sir, there is a youth at the front gates. He wants a job. And he says he knows about Department H.”
“What?” Tao yelled, then calmed down. “Ok...get Adam on it and tell him to find out how he knows about us. Then I’ll decide whether he can have a job or whether he can be executed for treason.”
“Yessir.”
Adam was another of the non-clone operatives and he had been in Department H for as long as Tao could remember. Tao didn’t like him, because he was immensely boring, didn’t do anything at all with his life, just worked twenty four seven. He should welcome this assignment.
Tao sat back in his desk, unaware that the day had only just begun.
*
Paine drove the Tri-vehicle as much into the forest as possible to help the others out. He ran a quick scan on the area and deemed it ok, but still they searched for sparks of fire.
*
Blue Cloud looked down at the corpses of the lovely elderly couple in Brazil. Trebular was nowhere to be found. Blue Cloud was quite pleased with himself and muttered, “There you have your sacrifice, Charon. Now take me to the Underworld.”
Blue Cloud disappeared, most likely to the Underworld.
















Chapter 6: Infiltration
While the devastating forest fight occurred, the final players in this deadly game of death took their final positions… “So, Kevin,” droned some insufferable crone, “Why did you want this job?”
The insufferable crone in question was, in actual fact a senior member of Department H, so not a clone, yet he had the same uptight, annoying manner of a clone. Kevin had never bothered to learn the crone’s name due to the simple fact that Kevin wasn’t going to stay in Department H for much longer. In fact, nobody shall.
“Heh,” chuckled Kevin Carnate, “I want this because I want to see the stars. I’m going to get up their one day,” he pointed at the sun, his resolve wavering only slightly, “and I will destroy the stars.” He ended dramatically, still pointing at the sun, until the crone coughed quietly, where he started, and then lowered his arms slowly.
“Erm...” stuttered the crone, “I really can’t allow that.”
Kevin looked at the table and smirked. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, somewhat less than sincerely, “but it’s the voices in my head.” He clutched his forehead, as if in pain. His eyes bulged slightly, revealing the madness locked away inside his skull, while his left hand grabbed an old, tattered leather bracelet. “Ever since I’ve had this bracelet… since the age of five-I have heard the voices. Calling-calling-calling to me, whispering all the time-never ceasing-never stopping-always there, their, their-telling me o,ho,ho, they tell me great things are coming…yes.”
The crone back out of the room and surveyed the slender, black haired suited man, who appeared to be having some sort of mental breakdown. I need to check this guy out. He thought.
Kevin grabbed a pencil and started to draw a pentagram on the old oak table. The crone looked at him as if Kevin was quite insane. The crone felt uneasy and shifted around uncomfortably in his leather padded seat. Kevin then spat on the table and rubbed it in to the wood, trying to erase the failed pentagram. The crone rose from his seat, mumbled a feeble excuse about needing the bathroom, and left the raving lunatic to his own devices.
Big mistake, thought Kevin Carnate, throwing the pencil at the wall, like a javelin. The lead stuck in the wall and the pencil vibrated, shaking up and down, as if in tension for the moment yet to come…
*
MT Nisyros was colder than the Entity had expected. However, that didn’t mean that it was cold. At a temperature of over three hundred degrees Celsius, he was actually sweating. As he stepped from rock to rock, each one threatening to crumble or sink under even his light weight, the lava bubbled, reaching out to burn him and drag him in. His desired object glinted, just a little further. He leapt to the next boulder and reached out to the key…
*
Now that Kevin was alone, he had decided to take an unguided tour around Department H’s “hidden” headquarters. Hidden. Ha. Kevin found the covert desert base in only two days trawling the net and, of course, Google maps. The trick was to find somewhere completely empty of any life, vegetation or anything else. Childs play. Then all he had to do was walk up to the front gates and demanded a job. Easy.
Or it would be if the humans weren’t so damned suspicious. He could hear their hushed tones, echoing from the control room, as if they were all in a cave. “Sir?” said one, recognizable as one of the infernal lab tech clones, “I got the results, like you asked.”
“And?” said the crone.
“And there are no records of him anywhere in the world until two days ago.”
“Two days ago…”said the crone, thinking about the words. Then a terrible incomprehensible truth hit him. “I shall infiltrate your space defences and bring your satellites crashing down.” Oh god. “Oh crap. I know why. Arm yourself. Now! ”
And Kevin stepped into the room.
The crone stuttered and kept his gun steadily aimed at Kevin. “Kevin Carnate, you are arrest, by law 53 of the American law.”
Kevin looked down at the wavering gun, then threw back his head and laughed until he foamed at the mouth. He paced back and forth about the room, the gun following him. He turned towards the crone, still laughing, when his head suddenly snapped forward and stared sternly into the crone’s eyes. “Are you serious?” No responses. “Well, it may amuse you to know that my name is not, in actual fact Kevin. My name is Incarnate.” He backed out of the control room. “Y’know, I can control gravity. You are nothing to me.” He waved briefly at his two onlookers. “Bye bye.”
They barely had time to register what he had said, when, with a great crashing sound the ceiling collapsed, crushing the crone and the lab tech into eternal darkness.
*
Tors looked down at the large pile of rocks that used to be Devilclash. He lifted each and every rock, turning them over, cutting his hands, but ultimately checking for any sparks of the demon. If there was even one spark remaining, she would… what was it that she said? Oh yes, “begin the blaze anew.” Tors shuddered at the very thought of it. She had nearly burnt Brazil to the ground. Tors sighed. These days had disturbed him greatly. He and his team would’ve been killed by Viretta if it wasn’t for Trebular, who was now in a special healing trance himself in a nearby town. All that aside, there was something strange about him, something…hidden, almost. His –abilities- unnerved Tors greatly, almost... familiar. He tried to remember where he had seen them before, but a sharp pain in his head overcame all rational thought. Eyes watering, he walked away, unable to remember what he was trying to remember, as a lone spark wondered off into the brush.
*
The Entity clasped his hand around the rusty key and prized it from its pedestal. The ground suddenly started to ripple, attempting to throw him into the bubbling death trap below. Then the lava began to rise up and something appeared within it. Firstly, three gigantic demonic hound heads splashed out, each snarling, drool sliding down each of its three jet black chins. Then followed the rest; an incomprehensible black mass of cuts, mingled with sharp, unforgiving spikes, supported by four equally disgusting legs. Its tail appeared to have the head of a serpent and, judging by the smoke exhaled from its nostrils, it could breathe fire. The Entity cocked his head to one side and whispered menacingly, “Cerberus.” 
He leapt.
He ran along the nearest wall, dodging up and down to avoid the oncoming bursts of fire, each one singing his dark shroud. Jumping towards the leftmost head, he lunged for its upper jaw. The demented beast tried to shake him into the fiery pit of death below, but the entity hung on, planting both feet on the things neck, tightening his grip until tiny droplets of blood stained his hands. With an almighty roar, he pulled back, while straightening his legs. With a cracking sound, a gash appeared in the Cerberus’ throat. After much growling from the deranged beast, its head was torn from its body, covering it and the Entity in thick red blood.
The Entity, still clutching the head, hopped to the furthermost boulder. The Cerberus roared, being understandably angry about the loss of its head. It crashed through the boulders as if they were nothing in its blind rage. Meanwhile, the Entity tore the heads lower jaw off with another sickening crack. He threw them over arm at the Cerberus’ rightmost head. The dagger like teeth penetrated even the beast’s thick hide with ease, instantly killing the head. “Two down. Two to go.”
A shadow loomed over the Entity as the Cerberus swiped a seven clawed paw at his chest, causing him to be slammed into the wall, streams of blood marking his trail like a trail of breadcrumbs. His eyes narrowed. “Just for that,” he roared, “I’m gonna brain ya!” 
He sprinted to the giant creature and leapt, grabbing on to the third and final hound head. He crouched on the top of its head, steadying himself with one hand while plunging the other into its left eye socket, pushing past the eyeball until it exploded. The Cerberus tried to shake the entity off like a rodeo bull, but he hung on. Just. He forced his hand further into the former eye socket, feeling around until something wet touched his hand. The brain. He grabbed it and pulled on it, bringing more blood with it. He heard a distinctive squelch, as it disconnected from the spinal cord. More blood came and then the skull shattered, leaving the entity standing on the beasts back, holding one of its brains. A fireball scorched his arm, burning it. Seeing that the serpent head was still alive and ready to breathe another fireball, he threw the brain into its mouth, just before it exhaled the burning ball of flame. The brain got lodged in its mouth, causing the fireball to rebound down the beast’s throat. Even the Entity didn’t know what would happen then.
It exploded.
It stained the wall with blood and guts, while the force of it threw the entity out of the volcano. Just out of range. The volcano started to rumble. Smoke came from the top, followed by plumes of ash, lava and rock, all of which poured down the volcanoes side.
The Entity turned and walked away, calling for Aetos Dios once more. The legendary eagle landed gracefully in front of him, safely on a lump of igneous rock. The Entity looked back at the Cerberus’s remains, then mounted the eagle and flew away, looking satisfactorily at the shiny silver key in his hand. 
*
Insectiron was monitoring the computer in his office as head of intelligence, deep in thought about the Entity’s whereabouts. 
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
His concentration snapped suddenly, as some primal irritation crawled up from within his subconscious, enveloping him completely.
“Sir?”
 “Sorry, what?” blithered Insectiron. He looked up to see a white coated lab tech clone. These clones disturbed him greatly. All the same with no personality, he thought. 
“We know where the Entity is sir.”
Insectiron ran out of the office door, pausing only to snatch the piece of paper from the lab tech. The techie snorted. “Nice to feel appreciated.” Then, a great pressure surrounded his skull, pulling his bone inwards, until his skull imploded.
Blood spattered Insectiron’s back. “What the hell?”
Laughter echoed from down the hallway, followed by loud footfalls. Closer.  Louder. A man appeared in the corridor, smirking evilly, which surprisingly suited him. The floor lights lit his face from beneath, casting the top into shadow. “You won’t find the Entity,” he scoffed, “All your gonna find is death.”
“Who’re you?”
“Names Incarnate. Remember it. It’s gonna be the last you hear.”
After rolling his eyes profoundly at the cliché, Insectiron drew his pistol and shot Incarnate four times in the chest. Or he would’ve if they hadn’t fallen to the floor, useless, just before they reached him. 
“I can control gravity. Your puny projectiles cannot harm me. I can crush people’s skulls just by concentrating. You are way out of your league.”
Insectiron ran down the hall towards the hangar. Incarnate’s smirk widened. Just as he had planned…
*
The Entity dismissed the ever faithful eagle and stepped into the Pantheon, an ancient Athenian temple, and lifted up a carefully selected stone tile, revealing a small keyhole. Shaking his head at the ease of it all, he thrust the key into it.
The ground rumbled. 
*
Unbeknownst to him, waves rippled throughout the globe, rising up and sinking ships, flooding many coastal town and all but destroying New Orleans. However, only The Entity knew what had caused this. Off the coast of Greece, rusted buildings rose from the water, all of which were corroded harshly. These waves rose and rose until the ground surfaced, sending waves across the globe.
The city of the gods had risen for the first time in eight thousand years.
Atlantis had risen.
*
Hell was more commonly known to the Greeks as the Underworld, which was divided into four areas: the Elysian Fields, where the righteous dead were sent to dwell; the Elysian islands, where the grand heroes of legend resided after death; the Land Of The Dead, also known as the Domain Of Hades, where the damned souls where forever punished for their misdeeds; and, finally, the Great Pit of Tartarus, the prison of the former Titan Gods. Blue Cloud was searching in the Tartarus. This was where the Titans, the former gods, were imprisoned after the Titanomachy, a giant war between the Titans and the gods. Cloud wanted a Titan to aid him in his search for the swords, one Titan in particular.  Thus, he had descended into the underworld, a dark bleak and unforgiving place, filled with the screams of its deranged occupants. Cloud ignored them and made course for the Titan at the end of the dark corridor, lit only by flickering torchlight. This was much larger than the others. In here was the father of Zeus, Hades and Poseidon, Titan leader and god of time itself.
Cronus.
A grin spread across Clouds face like butter over bread as he drew a spear known as the Hades Spear and thrust it into a crude lock on the gate. Gears clattered and clanked as they turned, slowly opening the Titan’s giant cage. Cronus’s smile mirrored Cloud’s under his dark helmet. “Remember our deal.” exclaimed Blue Cloud menacingly. They descended up to the surface in complete silence, each pondering the consequences of their actions.        
*
Insectiron swung himself into the cockpit of an F17 fighter jet as Incarnate strode into the hangar, deflecting the bullets of all one hundred and two men shooting at him. Insectiron realized that fighting him was futile, as Incarnate walked forward, left hand held out in front of him, like he was holding a shield that slammed the bullets into the ground. The ground cracked and splintered, sending shards of stone into the faces of his attackers by simply changing the effect of gravity on them. 
Insectiron gulped and plotted a course for the newly emerged Atlantis. The Entity was waiting. And he was more powerful than Incarnate.
*
The Entity stepped into the ruins of Atlantis, heading for the Alpha Temple in the centre of the lost city. He stepped over the ruins of various buildings, while long dead skeletons trembled and cracked under his feet. Red stains were seemingly placed to scare off wanderers in the city. Death and destruction overwhelmed The Entity. No sounds filled the air; even the birds steered clear, leaving a loud eerie silence, mingled with the stench of rotten flesh.
The Alpha Temple was the only intact building in the city. This may have something to do with the fact that it is made of solid gold. Its domed roof stuck out like a sore thumb. The doors swung open at the lightest touch. He stepped in, and was immediately blinded by the light inside. He winced. His vision cleared and he sighed.
Nine giant green serpentine heads greeted him with venomous replies.
*
Blue Cloud re-emerged on the surface, followed by Cronus, the nine hundred foot tall Titan. Only now, in the suns blinding glare, could Cronus’s features be appreciated. Looking like an ordinary human, albeit the height, he sported red and silver plate armour which left his muscular arms bare. Strange growths of bone protruded from his elbows, ending in sharp points. His face was hidden behind a dark red helmet, showing only his gaunt blue eyes. “You wish to destroy the gods and end everything. Why?”
Cloud hesitated before answering. “To end war and bring peace to the worlds.”
Cronus snorted and knelt down, putting his palm on the ground. Cloud scuttled on like an obedient insect. After putting Cloud on his shoulder, Cronus strode over to the city of the gods.
Atlantis.
*
The Entity had been trained in all forms of swordplay. He was strong enough to tear creatures’ heads from their shoulders. Yet nothing had prepared him to meet the nightmare serpent itself.
The Hydra.
Nine toxic-green serpents, all connected by the tails into one serpent body. Cut off one head, and three more take its place. The venom it spits is highly toxic and can burn through the densest of metals, even burning through the metre thick hide of a Giginomious Maximus, a giant beast that can tear planets in two which looks vaguely like a squid. The only proved method to kill the Hydra is to cut its heads off with a flaming sword.
The Entity did not have a flaming sword. He had a sword, but that was no good to him in this situation. He paused to think about the dilemma facing him, but darting heads came rushing towards him, interrupting his train of thought slightly. Dodging the heads and their venomous spit, a new idea came to heart. Literally. If he had a light bulb over his head, he would not be surprised. He darted through the deranged heads, but this was getting more and more difficult as the Hydra was starting to move around, chasing its prey. His shroud got bitten and torn, dagger like teeth tore into his arm, but he persevered. He reached the body, drew his sword in his left hand through and plunged his right hand into the beast’s ribcage, shattering its ribcage, sending the shards into its lungs. It felt the pain and, screeching, it lunged at the Entity, but he batted the heads away with the sword. Turned out the sword was sharper than he had expected, when it sliced through the beasts flesh. At the point of severing, three new heads branched off from the neck, regenerating extremely quickly. The Entity continued to reach around inside the Hydra and tugged on what appeared to be the heart, judging by the way it was throbbing in his hand. Disgusting. The heads of the Hydra, over fifty by now, lunged for him, spitting at him.
Closer.
Closer.
And, just in time, the Hydra’s heart came loose from the surrounding blood vessels, and as a shower of blood erupted from the wound, the Hydra fell, stone dead.
The Entity was left holding the Hydras heart and spied a crude altar, with a small goblet on it. No, he thought, not a blood offering. Soo cliché. He held the heart over the goblet and squeezed it, letting the blood drip into the goblet until it overflowed with thick red blood. The gold wall slid apart and an old, withered human lady stepped forward, stooped over under a long, grey cape. “You must be the Entity.” She stated. “I am the Oracle, charged with guarding and looking over the Alpha sword of power. It seems that you have overcome the tests of power with a flourish.” She pulled out a sword, encrusted with emeralds and sapphires, the earth’s colours. “The Alpha sword, for you.” She gave it to him and he hesitantly took it. As he took the sword she nodded once, and then dissolved into dust. 
The Entity bowed his head out of respect for the mysterious woman.
Then the ground shook.
*
Incarnate watched the jet take off while trying to deflect bullets. His head ached from the effort of the concentration, so he lifted a jet off of the ground and flung it at his oppressors with an alarming crash. He strode on towards Department H’s space shuttle tower, flinging cars and jets at the guards, carrying them off of their feet and flinging them into walls, cars exploded, sending shockwaves, knocking other guards off their feet while debris fell on them, burning them. He stepped into the tower lift and watched the red rungs fly by. Shutting his eyes, he listened to the voices in his head until he reached the pilot bay, slightly shook by what he had heard. He saw the humans scurrying to the tower, so he leapt into the shuttles pilot seat and activated the engines. Screams erupted from the ground as the humans ignited, running around in circles like ants on fire.
He laughed at the insects and blasted off to the international space station.
*
As the ground shook, the ceiling caved in, as did the walls, showering The Entity with rubble. He struggled to avoid the falling debris. He looked up to see a boulder five times his size and easily ten times his weight falling down towards him…
*
Tao saw the shuttle take off and, upon realizing that he had no way of following, sent an urgent message to the aliens in the Tri-vehicle.
*
Tors, Emola, Incision, Paine and Hurricane gathered around the computer in the Tri-vehicle. “We’re needed in space” said Paine gravely. The others nodded slowly, while Hurricane went to plot their course.
*
After half an hour of continuous flying, Insectiron finally landed, although most of the time was spent with Insectiron trying to figure out the complex controls. This annoyed him greatly. He could pilot space shuttles, hover cars, tanks and even the huge, dreaded Worldcrusher mark VI, yet he could not make sense of the seemingly randomly placed controls of the F-17. This was probably because in all of the other, there was only a wheel, a throttle, along with perhaps a couple of buttons and a brake, while the F-17 was buttons galore. When trying to contact the army base he was flying to, he accidentally pressed the “fire” button, sending two missiles into the nearest skyscraper, knocking the spire right off. Heh, he had thought, if I tell the others, I’d be a laughing stock.
He had arrived at an airbase in the east midlands of England, called RAF Lakenheath. When he had arrived, he was greeted by a small stocky man, who took him to talk to the boss, Corporal Carter.
“I need your help,” requested Insectiron desperately, “The alien who made hostile threats to the Earth is currently in Atlantis, the city that rose from the sea and flooded towns and cities across the globe killing thousands. We have to kill him. He’s behind everything that has happened over the last few days.”
“Wait, just wait. Now calm down and explain all of this. Slowly,” requested the corporal.
“You don’t know?” quizzed Insectiron, bewildered. 
“I’ve heard rumours. But that’s it. Rumours.”
“On Monday, a hostile named Viretta hacked into the pentagon and gained control of all electronic devices in New York. She created a giant one thousand foot tall robot, which had completely destroyed New York City before we could stop it. Viretta is still at large. Today, the others went to the Amazon rainforest to investigate rumours of an alien. They found some sort of elemental fire demoness, who burned Brazil to the ground before they could stop her. It was not, as the government said, a forest fire. Then about an hour ago, a man called Incarnate found our headquarters and killed everyone in it, stole a shuttle to the ISS, about to send the satellites crashing down around us. The Entity himself caused a volcanic eruption and raised Atlantis, killing thousands.”
Carter, shocked by these revelations, said slowly, “I see. What do you need?”
Insectiron thought briefly for a moment, and then answered with a word that military hasn’t used since the days of world war two. A word that sent a distinct chill down Carter’s spine: “everything.”
*
Earth orbit. Not the nicest place in or, indeed, out of the world. Less of Man’s last journey and more of Man’s last scrap yard many would say. Tubular satellites littered the space around the Earth, forming a sort of flawed cocoon rather than a ring around the blue green planet.
As Hurricane’s shuttle got closer to the ISS, he noticed an anomaly in the pattern of which the satellites were spread. “Paine. You know the satellites, right?”
“Right, yeah,” came the questioning reply.
“Are they supposed to be this close to the Earth? Now I’m no expert, but surely the gravitational pull isn’t that weak.”
Paine leaned over a railing to gaze out of the window to the offending objects. “No, I don’t think they are. That’s odd...”
“What’s odd?”
Then a weather satellite dropped out of orbit and plunged past the ship.
“Ah,” said Hurricane sardonically, “that.”
*
New Zealand
At that moment, the populace of New Zealand looked up and saw the cylindrical satellite come into contact with the atmosphere, igniting like a bug under a magnifying glass. The satellite got lower and lower, until it smashed into the very centre of the country, sending flames pulsing through the land. There was a terrible, deadly scream. Then, there was only silence.
*
The Entity knelt down, ready to leap, when a blue streak of energy shattered the boulder into infinitesimal pieces. 
No. Not him. Please, gods, no.
With a great crunching of stone and bone, Cronus the Titan smashed through the remains of the wall and immediately filled his line of vision, although somehow, the figure of Blue Cloud was more notable by The Entity. Maybe it was the sound of raw, crackling energy or the contrast from Cronus’s silver gauntlet to bright, vivid blue. But, maybe, it was the fear in The Entity’s heart...
*
“We’ve gotta stop this,” said Tors angrily as the shuttle docked the ISS. However, without Trebular, they all knew that this mission could be their last.
Meanwhile, in the darkness of space, the black hole rippled mysteriously, and then vanished completely, leaving a black and silver clad figure, who turned and glided over to the ISS. The cuts on his hands healed as he put his gauntlet back on, sliding it carefully over the bloody cuts, the blood of which he used to open the black hole…
*
The lone spark reacted with the air, blazing and forming, once more, dragging various rocks and vegetation into a general humanoid shape, with fiery hands and eyes.
Devilclash opened her mouth, revealing the fires within and cackled witch-like at the sky.
*
Once a paradise; but now reduced to ruin. Once a bustling city, now an empty husk. Once a place of vibrant life, now a graveyard of thousands.  The events that happened on that day changed this city forever, but perhaps brought awareness to those who used the city daily, using it with no thought of consequences or what might ever occur. 
The former high-rise tower blocks were turned from elevated security laden safe-houses to dark twisted ruins, resembling towers of legend; but only the legends of the dark ages and the Inferno. Previously, the streets were filled with waiting traffic, even in the bleakness of the night. Now, the streets were filled not with vehicles, but vehicle-like mounds of metal, charred and blackened. Windows no longer existed, just signified by mere holes in the wall, outlined perhaps by shattered fragments of glass that still remained. Before, the city was surrounded by glamour, both metaphorically and literally. Now, it was surrounded only by yellow tape that warned intruders.
Past this yellow tape were a few towns, huddled together, surrounding the city like a pack of vipers. People in these towns tried to carry on as if nothing had happened, but there were changes that everyone succumbed to, even once in a while. Like looking across the city’s skyline and noticing that the Empire State Building no longer existed within New York City, the spire toppled by the force that had done this crime to America. Watching that building fall shattered the average American’s spirit; it was like watching the American dream be crushed like a paper cup and tossed in an incinerator. No-one could ever know what happened that day but for the agents of the elusive government-controlled Department H. Their association with Area 51 was undeniable and thus, the New York catastrophe would become the same as them: just another conspiracy theory.   
After a day of searching, Viretta had finally built what she had been hunting for in the wreckage of Manhattan: a jetpack. But not an ordinary jetpack, one that could make Afanisei fly. She had found jet fuel and stole it from an airport and added a contraption to make a crude magnetically-made jetpack that it had possessed before, but had never used, soundless. When the humans guarding Afanisei had left, she had reactivated the machine and bonded the makeshift jetpack to it. Now it could fly. Another weapon in its massive arsenal. She stepped into the command unit, commanding the machine to rise. The amalgamation did so, with a great creaking, throwing rubble into the air and ascended quicker than the average fighter jet and flew to Atlantis. Afanisei had risen once more, but this time, The Entity needed it more than ever...
*
Insectiron and his army of jets entered Atlantis airspace and saw the ruined city. The sight of the rotting ruins brought a lump to his throat, but then he saw something that made all of the other emotions die: Blue Cloud, The Entity and a nine hundred foot tall gargantuan. “We’re goin’ in” he commanded the others. They swooped in, a bead of sweat running down Insectiron’s face. He knew what this was. Endgame.
*
Tors, Emola, Paine, Hurricane and Incision ran around a corner and were greeted by shadows. Paine was making a scene by not properly fitting through the corridors and complaining about the creaking floor, which only seemed to creak under him.  Lights clanged on, illuminating sections at a time until the well groomed form of Incarnate was revealed.  “Hello, gentlemen, if it’s not too much of a cliché in these parts, I’ve been expecting you.”
“Surrender, Incarnate. Don’t make us kill you,” demanded Paine, holding his gun steadily aimed on Incarnate’s chest.
“Oh, yes, exactly like you killed Viretta and Devilclash, hah.”
“They’re out of commission,” intervened Emola.
Incarnate snorted. “That’s funny. Y’know, I used to watch all o’ your shows, Emola, yet I’d never expect military speak from you. My accomplices are gathering now in Atlantis,” he laughed maniacally, “and you’ve left Earth defenceless.”
“We need to get out of here and down there,” whispered Hurricane. They all nodded and ran to the ship doors, relieved when they heard no following footsteps.
“Just you try it!” echoed Incarnate’s voice from down the corridor.
They entered the docking bay. The doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss, to reveal a stooped, old bearded man in the way, fixing them all with a fiery glare. “No,” he said, drawing a slim spear, “not yet.”
They turned to the right to see Incarnate, a creepy, broad grin cracking his face in two. They turned to the left to see a figure, clad in silver and black armour. “No,” whispered Hurricane, “It’s impossible.”
“No,” Tors shook his head in disbelief.
“What the hell?” exclaimed Emola.
“You will do something distracting now,” said Foton, not quite seriously, “this is the final distraction for Earth.”
*
“So, who’s the big guy?” asked The Entity, trying to sound casual, failing completely. 
“I am Cronus the Titan,” came the rumbling reply, “but you may know me as your death.”
Then, just to disturb the melodramatic scene, a squadron of F-17s flew overhead, the sound of the engines making the Entity’s ears pop. When that faded, a loud rumbling replaced it, as the one thousand foot mechanical mass, mingled with a medley of parts from cars, trains, planes, apaches, fighter jets and even a couple of smaller fairground rides, landed on the island and took a swipe at Cronus, sending him backwards.
The Entity looked on taking in the view.  The final battle has begun.












































Chapter 7: The Entity Unleashed
Foton advanced slowly on them, cracking his knuckles menacingly, with a sickening crack, each time louder and seeming more malevolent than the last.
Naarl advanced, swinging an old kendo stick around his head, performing complex martial arts moves with it.
Incarnate watched on, smirking; a king watching his gladiators, as the remaining members of Department H were herded before him. “We gotta fight,” Tors ordered quietly. The others nodded in quick succession. In less than a blink of an eye, they were all brandishing swords.
“So,” chuckled Foton, “the wind has finally become a storm.” He looked at Hurricane, who was still shaken from their first encounter. Hurricane gulped, causing Foton to snigger.  Hurricane felt his temper rise. He had never been one for taking open insults and this had caused various outbursts, leading to anger management classes. In these classes he had learnt to play music in his head while the instructor spoke, as the classes annoyed him greatly. Later on in the course, he had accidentally broken every bone in his instructor’s body.
These outbursts were normally in the form of a localized miniature hurricane Jahn, a hurricane which had devastated the whole of china. So, you can imagine what hit Foton, carrying him down the corridor, slamming him into walls, the ceiling and the floor, making large dents in each, with a spider web of cracks. Hurricane and Emola went after him.  Time to end this.
*
A clash of the Titans. A cliché, yes, but it was the only apt way to describe it. Cronus the Titan versus Afanisei mark III, each crushing Atlantean ruins beneath ball and feet while exchanging blows. Afanisei appeared to have the upper hand with its electric whips, tank cannons, flight ability and a super intelligent pilot, not to mention the two hundred and twenty two foot long melee weapon: the spire of the empire state building, sharpened to act like blade. However, despite all this, Cronus was a fallen god. He had the strength to tear continents in two. Judging on that, you’d think that Cronus would have the upper hand, especially if you included the fifty five F-17s attacking Afanisei. But not so. Afanisei slammed Cronus to the floor with one hand, sending shockwaves through the small island, while turning and whipping the jets, causing them to short circuit and explode in mid-air. Pilots tried to escape by activating the ejector seat, but the attempt was pure futility as the tanks on Afanisei’s shoulders picked them off, one by one, until they all plunged to their ultimate fate. The wreckage of the jets smashed into the remains of the Alpha Temple, where the Entity and Blue Cloud did battle.
*
The Entity and Blue Cloud stood at opposite ends of the Alpha Temple, facing each other with narrowed eyes, each silently daring the other to throw the first blow. Then Blue Cloud’s mocking drawl pierced the fragile silence, “Do you know who I am?”
“I do indeed,” came the bitter reply, “You’re that bastard who destroyed the overlord’s palace. Do you know who I am?”
“Yeah, you’re the fool who thinks that they won’t be killed when they finally decide to face me.”
“I know.” Entity drew the Alpha sword, while the Beta sword formed in his hand. He rushed at Blue Cloud, who subsequently drew the Theta sword and the Titan spear just in time to parry the blow, which nearly knocked him down, sending shockwaves from the blades, making their faces ripple. Their eyes met and the Entity finally saw the determination there, crackling electricity in place of pupils. “You know, Cloud,” roared the Entity, “all the power in the world is going to save you now!” 
*
Tors drew his katana and charged at Incarnate, closely followed by Paine, who was drawing two M-16 pistols. As Tors got closer, the gravity lord laughed. Tors felt himself getting heavier and heavier. His legs cracked with the strain and buckled, leaving Tors in a mangled heap on the floor. Paine looked from Tors to Incarnate, eyes wide with primal fear. “Put the guns down, Paine,” whispered Incarnate threateningly, “you can’t win.”
“Eat…lead,” said Paine slowly, while letting off a barrage of bullets from the twin pistols. Incarnate’s eyebrows raised and both bullets dropped to the floor, useless.
“A futile effort,” mocked Incarnate, "Y’see, gravity is awesome. What it can’t lift, it can crush. Where there is gravity, there is the power to kill, to crush and to bring about the rise and fall of civilization itself. I control gravity, and you think that you can harm me? You are powerless; insects beneath my feet. But I won’t crush you. Not yet.” He laughed harshly. “The Entity charged me to tell you why we are here.” He watched as they glanced sideways at each other, exchanging looks of confusion. Incarnate put his head in his hands and sighed, “This is going to take a long time…”
*
Incision locked his sword with Naarl’s wooden spear, causing the wood to shed shavings, coating the floor like a hamster’s cage. The tip of the sword started to bend towards Incision as Naarl put more pressure on the spear. Incision grunted in surprise, “You’re pretty strong…for an old man.”
“Old man?” retorted Naarl indignantly, “you’re the one with the fragility. You’re the one who’s close to death!” 
Incision’s blade snapped.
The spearhead rushed towards his face…
*
As wreckage of F-17 fighter jets rained down upon them, the Entity and Blue Cloud remained, each of their weapons wind milling through the air, so fast that they appeared to not be there at all, but only vague flashes of light, which twirled itself around the combatants, sending sparks into the air when they clashed together like fireworks. “Is this what you want, Cloud?” yelled the Entity, “The swords?” 
“No,” sneered Blue Cloud, “I want no-one to have them all. Not until at least next week.”
“Why not?” roared the Entity, fear pounding in his heart, “What happens next week?”
Blue Cloud laughed. “If the four swords are gathered, then they shall lock the Hades gate. However, if they are not,” he paused for dramatic effect, “then Hades will be reborn.”
It took a moment for the Entity to register this. One week? He thought, and then we die. “Never!” he roared before bringing the Alpha sword of power in a sweeping slash across Cloud’s wrist’s, taking them clean off. They fell to the floor with a clatter and a bounce, each punctuated with a cartoon-like splat. First landing, they were blue, second landing they were stained with thick red blood. The Theta sword landed blade on Cloud’s left hand, splitting it in two, showing the white bone and pink flesh and muscle beneath.
Cloud looked at his wrists in sheer disbelief at the fact that his hands had been cut off twice in less than a week. His wrists resembled nothing more than white stubs of bone, surrounded by a moat of red blood. He closed his eyes and the bones quickly began to extend. Veins snaked up and around them, trying to strangle them. Pink, thick muscle engulfed all, until white skin sprouted and engulfed the masses. Then, finally the blue energy crackled and began to radiate from his pores. Cloud cracked his knuckles and sighed with exasperation, “Good as new.” He thrust his left palm at the Entity, sending the deadly blue crackling energy at him…
The Entity swung the Alpha sword to shield him from the fatal attack. “The Alpha sword will absorb all power thrown at it. Hence the name “Alpha sword of power.””, gloated the Entity uncharacteristically, “While the Beta sword of nature,” he plunged the Beta sword into the earth, “can parry with oh-so excellent results.” Jagged lines appeared in the ground, but within seconds they had descended into cracks, trying to swallow Blue Cloud. His foot fell into a crack, but was soon liberated when he ascended into the air, sending bolts of hell fire down on the Entity.
“Cronus,” he yelled at the giant, “switch opponents!”
And before the Entity had time to react, a giant foot slammed him into the ground.
*
Tao picked through the rubble cluttering the hallway and was greeted by a sombre looking lab tech. This greeting was in the form of the lab tech running into him, sending him crashing to the floor. Tao threw him off and stood up shakily, brushing dust off of his tuxedo. "What’s your name, clone?" he demanded.          
 "John," he replied, hastily standing, but he immediately doubled over, wheezing for breath.                
"What’s going on, John?"              
  John took a deep breath and massaged his temples nervously, “Incarnate shut down the power. The containment bay is offline and the creature is awakening. Fast."
*
Ice and lime green gas surrounded a small metallic platform in the middle of the vast emptiness of the containment bay. The ice started to melt away from the creature’s skin. The gas started to vent out of the room when the circuitry pumping it out crackled and failed. The creature began to stir.               
  Flicker.                
And so the eyes of the creature flashed open to reveal the oppressed rage within...
*
Tao's eyes widened with fear. Lines creased, which had sweet trickling down it. "Oh god," he said sardonically.         
Crash. 
 "What the hell was that?" whispered Tao, fearfully stepping away from the source of the sound.             
 "Sounds like its loose," John replied.               
 Smash.               
The wall exploded into shards of jagged rock to reveal, well a thing. It appeared to be a humanoid robot, yet its arms ended not in arm, but in vicious looking electrocuted metallic tentacles. Its plated armour was a tinted bronze. Two vivid red slitted eyes were burned into its head, which had no nose as, being a mechanoid; it had no use for it. Its legs were a tangled mass of wires, covered only by the plate armour. The feet made an eerie clang as they stomped closer and closer to Tao and John, who backed away slowly.       
"Surrender," ordered Tao, hastily drawing a pistol and aiming at the machine. It appeared to sigh, yet only sounded like a grating of gears.
“When will you learn?" it asked in a blood curling monotone, "you cannot kill Vex-te."                        
It charged at them, tentacle flailing wildly, electrocuting the metallic walls, sending electrical charge up them and destroying the strip lights. They caught John, sending him flying down the hallway, and then they hit him up again, slamming him and the ceiling together. Things broke. Not the ceiling.           
Tao immediately thought of a plan to reduce casualties. A plan to save himself with minimal risk. Taking one last look at John's stone-still body, he turned and legged it down the hallway.
*
Cronus felt as if he had trodden on a pin. Really hard. When his foot had crushed the Entity, his two blades had pierced the sole of his boot, making gashes in his foot, causing the boot to fill with blood.          
Odd, he thought, my foot feels funny.
*
The Entity was not, in fact, dead. Somehow he had survived the crushing blow and thrust both swords into Cronus’s foot, causing blood to rain down upon him. The Entity held the Beta sword in his right hand and willed the unchecked power of nature to flow through him. Closing his eyes, he felt an aura of pure natural power surround him. Yanking the swords out of Cronus’s foot, he placed his palms on the foot’s sole and pushed. Cronus tried to resist, but none has ever resisted the full unchecked power of nature, so he persevered, sending Cronus stumbling backwards, letting the Entity out, who clambered out of the crater clumsily; he was exhausted.  He looked up at Cronus, fiery determination burning in looking up at Cronus, which were darting around, looking for an advantage to use against his opponent, who was now grasping a slightly rusted double-bladed battle axe, which he swung out of its sheath on his back and slashed it down onto the ground were the Entity was. Was, being the key word. The Entity had darted over to the Hydra’s lifeless husk and tore off two of the most fanged heads and rammed them onto his hands. He grinned at this new advantage.
“Gauntlets…” he began to roar; “Now I’ll tear you apart!” He disappeared behind the blade of Cronus’s axe, the bronze blade only just catching his toes as he sprinted behind Cronus’s feet and stood behind them, eyes shut. He spiritually reached into the summoned the raw power of nature from beneath the planet’s ancient crust. He felt a deep dark ancient power rise up within him, until thick spiny green vines erupted from the ground, not upsetting the natural lie of the land and wound themselves around the gargantuan Titan’s ankles, holding Cronus in place, threatening to pull him down. This was a small demonstration of the Entity’s and nature’s raw power. “Y’know, Cronus,” he roared, “the larger they come, the larger they fall!”
And on that somewhat less than charming note, he uppercutted Cronus’s Achilles tendon, letting the Hydra’s scimitar fangs  tear the delicate tendon apart, throwing a stream of thick red blood flying through the air. Cronus collapsed onto one foot, screaming in pain. “You’ll pay for that!” He sheathed his axe on his back and began to pound the ground, causing craters the size of houses to be imprinted in the ground, sending shockwaves through the ancient island. One fist landed within a metre of the Entity, so he seized his chance. Disposing of the Hydra head gauntlets, he sprinted to the giant fist and plunged the Alpha sword into it, causing the skin to tear open, revealing the pink flesh and dark red blood beneath.  The pain went straight to Cronus’s brain and he instinctively raised the still clenched fist to his face.
Not his best plan of action.
The Entity kicked off from the fist and launched himself towards Cronus’s gaunt blue eyes, while holding both the Alpha and Beta swords. “Cronus,” He yelled, “feel your brain die!”
He plunged into Cronus’s eyeball, changing his angle of flight and pirouetted, the swords held out in front of him carving a hole in Cronus’s eye, leaving enough space for the Entity to enter the brain cavity, while Cronus clutched at his bleeding eye, letting the natural Titan healing powers seal the wound, sealing the Entity in. He looked around at the gently throbbing giant brain. Heh, he thought, you really think I’m that easily put off. Idiot.
He drew the swords and plunged them into the cerebrum, sending electricity pulsing from the wound, throwing him off of his feet as if he had trodden on a mine. A dark tendril emerged from the gash, crackling with bright blue electricity; it twisted and wound itself round the chamber. The Entity tried to edge around the chamber until the tendril caught him and hoisted him up into the air and squeezed. The Entity felt one, two, three ribs crack. He drew a surprised breath which was immediately answered by a sharp stab of pain and a stream of thick green bile. He strained against the Titanic strength of the tentacle, flexing and straining all of the muscles in his well-trained body, pushing his endurance to the maximum until the tendril squealed in pain and threw him into and then through the nearest wall of the chamber, straight through the back of Cronus’s skull, sending shattered shards of bone and brass helmet chasing him through the air after him. Cronus, having destroyed the vines holding him and healed his injury, turned and swung his axe directly at the flailing form of the Entity, sending him flying up into the atmosphere, burning up in the outer reaches of it and crashing back down to Earth again, leaving a The-Entity shaped crater in the ground, with a roaring fireball at the centre.
*
Foton opened his eyes to find Emola standing over him, a rapier point right between the eyes. He shifted his focus to see past Emola and noticed Hurricane, who had his arms folded and a stern look on his face, very much like the one an uptight parent might give a misbehaving child. Foton groaned and slowly pulled himself up, using the dents in the wall that he himself had made as handholds, the rapier point still following his every movements.
“Look, man, there is really no need for that,” said Foton sincerely, gesturing at the rapier, “I surrender.”
Emola cautiously moved the blade away. “No!” Hurricane yelled, “Don’t do it, Emola!”
A moment’s hesitation.
That was all Foton needed. He kicked out at Emola’s feet, flipping him over and causing him to lose his grip on the rapier, sending it flying through the air until Foton’s black-gloved hand closed around it and Emola hit the ground with a dull clang. Hurricane made a charge for him, but Foton turned and elbowed him in the face. Due to Foton’s silver elbow blades-viscous blades that were attached to the forearm and were pointing backwards- this was a lot more dangerous than it may first appear, but thanks to Hurricane’s brilliant reflexes, he dodged the main brunt of the blow, leaving only a gash up the left side of his face, which stained the top of the blade with blood. After throwing the rapier aside, Foton bent down and grabbed Hurricane by the chin and lifted him so that they were eye to eye.
“Nobody makes a fool out of me,” Foton whispered menacingly. He winked cruelly, then slammed Hurricane’s head into the wall, then let him slump to the floor, unconscious. 
Emola cowered on the floor, shaking with unparalleled terror. Foton approached him, striding confidently and sat down next to him. “Ah, Emola,” he said, almost reminiscently, “you could’ve been great. Famous, even. Y’know, I was always a fan of yours. Not a big one, but a fan nonetheless. But it seems that your planet messed with the wrong people.”
J-just tell me why, Foton,” pleaded Emola.
“Why, what?” replied Foton, genuinely bewildered.
“Why, when you were presidential bodyguard, could you now go against everything he stood for? How could you sink so low?” 
Foton shifted nervously, as a child would when being forced to tell the truth. A truth which he would rather remain hidden. A truth, Emola noted, perhaps buried by... grief? Guilt?
“Blue Cloud killed Tahkshi. Tahkshi was not only my employer, but the closest thing to a friend I could have in this business. I will get my revenge, so I joined the Enforcers to bring him down, which was already their objective.”
Emola looked at the grief stricken man next to him and sat up, resting a gentle, calm hand on Foton’s back. “So, you’re running around with these lowlifes to get revenge?”
Foton turned angrily on him, shaking the hand off and glaring violently through the eyeholes in his battered helmet. “They are not lowlifes,” he said slowly, his teeth clenched, “Tahkshi chose them all by hand; one of his various side projects.”
“So, what, they’re the best?” 
“Yeah. There’s Naarl, the watcher of time. He can predict things, see, so he’s useful to us. Then there’s Devilclash, a sentient flame from another dimension.”
“Yeah, she said,” intervened Emola.
“Yeah, she’s always going on about it. Anyway, you met Viretta, who impressed Tahkshi with her knowledge and raw power, but I think he let her in for her figure, y’know what I’m talking about, eh?” he chuckled knowingly, “down theirs Incarnate, the newest member. They saved his life and, gods bless him, he tracked them down by hacking into classified government files until he found them, just to give ‘em some proper gratitude. He’s only eighteen.” A look of guilt flashed in Foton’s eyes. “There's one you haven’t met yet. Vex-te. A killing machine designed and built by Tahkshi for war purposes only. It runs off of the power of a small black hole.”
“Oh, we’ve seen Vex-te.”
“Then there’s the Entity,” carried on Foton, oblivious to Emola’s remark, “No-one knows anything about him, apart from Viretta. Either that or they’re too scared to mention him- wait what?”
“I said we’ve seen Vex-te.”
“Impossible, you should be dead.”
“Oh, it’s in containment at the HQ.” Then the terrible truth dawned on him. He knew it had been coming, knowing on his heart like a mouse on a particularly large lump of cheese, eating him from the inside out. Incarnate must have shut down the containment field when he shut down the power. “Oh, god.”
“Who else is at the HQ?” asked Foton, genuinely concerned.
“I dunno, some lab techs, soldiers. Oh, gods, Tao...no.”
Now it was Foton’s turn to lay a reassuring hand on Emola’s back. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, “but if they try to fight it, they’re as good as dead.”
*
Tao burst into the armoury and looked around frantically for a better weapon than his pistol, which was now out of ammo. He saw what he was looking for right away. He strapped a bullet belt across his blazer and clipped eight grenades to his belt. After stuffing two fully loaded pistols in his pocket, he picked up two Gatling guns, which were supposed to be used for armed vehicles, and fully loaded them both. Just for dramatic effect, he took his tie off and wrapped it around his forehead.   
He kicked open the armoury doors and stared directly into the machines dark eyes. “Fight the machine!” he yelled as he pumped the Gatling gun’s triggers and sent a barrage of the new spiked bullets (designed for their armour piercing capabilities) at Vex-te, who swung its tentacles at them, which either deflected or melted them. “You cannot kill the unkillable might of Vex-te!” It roared, its monotone breaking slightly, “I run on the pure power of a black hole. I could become the lord of reality if I wished to be. But desire is a living thing. It is impure. I am non-living; therefore, I am free of emotion, desire and needs. I am pure. “I am the perfect being.” It swung its tentacles at the walls wildly. “Impurities must be purged. Hence, you must die!”
That was not bravado, more of a pure, logical statement. Tao was doomed.
*
“Once, a God rebelled. He tried to annihilate the other Gods to gain their power. They defeated him and he was locked away for all eternity, whilst the other Gods used the Blade of Olympus to act as a permanent lock. However, Hades shattered the blade into four parts just before he was sealed away, causing the prison to slowly open once more. The four swords must be held as one. And soon. We Enforcers are the ones to complete this gathering. You dare to try to stop this? You will die!” Incarnate closed his eyes and sent a pulse of pure gravitational power down the corridor, launching the helpless forms of Tors and Paine into the air, slamming them into ceiling, then the walls and finally into the floor, creating huge dents in each. Tors and Paine groaned and tried to pull themselves up, but the slippery metallic surface defied them. This wasn’t helped by the fact that the gravity was higher than normal, weighing them down. Incarnate stepped over to them and crouched on the floor in front of them. “The voices are telling me to kill you,” he whispered menacingly, “just give me a reason. Go on. I dare you.”
His eyes glowed a vivid unearthly blue, emanating pure power from an alien power deep within him. His hair seemed to blow in a non-existent wind. He raised his arms and rose into the air, a magnificent spectacle.
“I no longer have control over your fate,” he yelled, “The voices have me now!”
*
Viretta watched as Cronus brought down the Entity. Cronus moved in and grabbed him, the giant hand enveloping him completely. She commandeered the Afanisei unit and launched virtually all of its armament at the Titan lord. He was hit by the full force of Afanisei’s sheer power, an explosive barrage of pain which no-one or nothing in the universe had ever experienced before. It knocked him down, before Afanisei’s huge fist shattered his jaw with a sickening crack. Cronus spat thick red blood at the machine, whilst grabbing his axe and swung it at the machine’s mid-section, which split leaving a crack in it. Blue Cloud, who was hovering overhead watching the scene unfold, seized his advantage and launched a pulse of pure energy into the crack, shattering the electro-coil, causing the machine to freeze. Viretta tried to get out of the cockpit, but the controls were down. Then, the machine collapsed to the ground with an ear-splitting crash.
Cronus and Blue Cloud advanced on the wreckage of Afanisei, thinking that they had all the cards stacked against Viretta. 
But, in their naivety, they forgot to watch the shadows...
The shadow lurked in the darkness, stalking the cause of universal upset. Little did anybody ever suspect that this one shadow was alive and responsible for about half of the criminal deaths throughout the universe. All who did did not for long. Secrecy was a key factor in its operation. After millennia of sorting unrest in the universe, it was now hunting the end bringer. It was unsure who the end bringer was, but it had but one duty to perform: the extermination of Blue Cloud’s minions.
It had them directly in its sights.
And so it leapt...
Cronus was picking through the wreckage of Afanisei when something leapt from the shadows, as fast as light, and impacted on his face, sending him stumbling backwards across the Atlantean ruins, crushing them underfoot, sending mounds of dust up into the air, clouding Cronus’s feet in a brown dust cloud. He stumbled right back to the coast of Atlantis, where there was no sandy beach, just harsh unforgiving bleak rock. The thing landed on the ground, just feet away from Cronus’s feet. “What are you?” gasped Cronus, in shock. Not even the mighty Zeus had been able to do that, let alone a measly mortal.
This was a very good question. It was about eight foot tall and appeared to be a living shadow, albeit a shadow with huge rounded dark red shin plates, knee caps, gauntlets, forearm armour and elbow plates. He also appeared to be wearing a dark red crown, with points at either end of it and an ocean-blue sapphire in the centre. Its gaunt eyes did not blink, but were only pure snow white; no pupils. “I am Trexor.” He said, putting pressure on the words to make them seem more commanding, although no imperatives were used. Trexor reached into his black leather sheath and brought out a sword handle with a single red ruby embedded on it. He pressed the ruby in and a slim metallic blade slid out, which then unfolded its sides to about four foot wide. Then it grew, like it had been exposed to some sort of uber miracle-gro™ until it became easily twenty foot tall. He held it over his head as his mouth, a small slit in his otherwise blank face, twitched at the corners. Light caught the end of the giant katana as he rooted his feet shoulder width apart. Then, an unearthly light engulfed the blade, leaving only the handle in darkness. Cronus averted his eyes. Trexor then roared, “Afíste ti dýnami ton theón roís méso ischyrón lepída mou!”
The dark clouds sent out a rumble of thunder, followed briefly by a flash of lightening.
Then he swung the blade at Cronus’s feet. The scum of the multiverse must be eliminated, Trexor thought.
An aegis of pure power extended from the katana, engulfing both owner and blade, enhancing the weapon’s range dramatically, yet still keeping the sharpness, which Cronus’s ankles found out when it sliced through them somehow, being immaterial and solid all at once. Cronus smashed to the ground, leaving only the feet standing. Cronus body hit the unforgiving rocks, which carved shapes into his back and piercing his spine. It then broke and snapped the rocks and went rolling into the sea with a Titanic (no pun intended) splash, leaving only his feet and two trails of thick red blood. Trexor’s thin lipless mouth twisted into a smirk as he turned away.
Into the raging storm known as “Blue Cloud”.
He was waving the Theta sword at him, leaving strands of power behind him, burning the rocky beach. Trexor parried the clumsy blows with ease and laughed in Cloud’s face. 
“Die!” yelled Blue Cloud, as both swords clashed together with a loud clang.
Trexor laughed again and then followed it up with the simple statement, and probably the worst comeback ever: “No, you die.” He flicked his wrist upwards, sending Blue Cloud flying through the air. When he slammed back into the ground, he got up gingerly, and then lunged at Trexor, who had promptly disappeared; becoming a shadow on the wall, then appeared behind Cloud and stabbed him in the spine. He fell to the floor, writhing in pain. Trexor disappeared once more.  Blue Cloud groaned and turned over onto his back and saw a shadowy figure. “Oh, shit.” groaned Cloud, “C’mon, Trexor. Please, have mercy…” then he saw who it really was, “Oh crap. Not you.” 
The Entity stood over him, his shroud ripped and torn, showing pieces of blood red armour underneath. “Have mercy,” he mimicked mockingly, and then laughed harshly at Blue Cloud.
*
Across the ocean she came, leaving only a blazing trail in her wake, setting the water on fire. Quite spectacular. She passed to ships, ferries and even mere fishing boats, which she passed straight through, leaving only a few burnt twigs behind. The coast of Atlantis finally came into view.
Closer.
Closer.
An F-17 fighter jet came into view, swooping down on her. She jumped onto the island. Rocks leapt to her, reforming her body in the air, landing on one knee with her fist on the ground. Her head jerked up and watched the jet fly over. She saw the pilot, who appeared to be vaguely familiar. She squinted, trying to see the pilot’s face. He was wearing dark tinted goggle and appeared to have strange growths coming out of his jaw.
Insectiron.
Well, how fortune’s wheel had turned and favoured her. Devilclash cackled at the sky. 
It was time for her sweet revenge. 
*
Insectiron saw the burning form of Devilclash and a creeping emotion known as “dread” penetrated his mind. He watched as she took down three of his comrades with flaming meteors, which had ejected themselves from her body, leaving three explosions echoing in the air.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Then he realized at last. The three beats from the lost legend, haunting him ever since he had arrived on Earth had finally chased him to his final calling.
He must die.
Now.
Determination creased his forehead as he blinked the tears from his eyes. Then it was battle time again. He swooped down on Devilclash as a stubborn thought entered his head, I will not die. He fired a missile at her, which exploded on its brutal impact. She disappeared behind a cloud of dust, annihilating her. In theory. The dust cleared and she was gone. No sparks or rocks remained. Too perfect, Insectiron narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, where could she be?
Clang,
Clang, 
Clang.
A shiver went down his spine, jolting his entire body. He looked around to see the fire demoness on the jet’s wing, edging slowly along it towards him. “Land coward,” she roared, flaming spittle flying from her fiery innards, “Face me!”
“Never!” yelled Insectiron. She heard and ran along the slippery wing at the cockpit, occasionally slipping down, but somehow managing to pull herself together before the crushing wind got to her, not to mention the velocity of the jet itself. It appeared that she was fuelled by pure hatred, somehow managing to keep her grip. Insectiron grabbed the control stick and pushed it away from him, sending the jet into a steep dive. Devilclash slipped once again and fell, only just able to grab the edge of the wing once more, piercing it with razor sharp talons which emerged on the other side of the black metal. 
“Stop this charade,” she yelled desperately, as they got dangerously close to the ground, “You’ll be killed!”
He smiled sadly to himself. “I know’” he shouted, “but so will you!” 
The jet went down further into the ruins of Atlantis, smashing the helpless form of Devilclash into the ruins, sending chunks of ancient metal and rock into the jet engine, causing it to sputter and creak. Insectiron commandeered the jet, sending it flying straight at the Alpha temple.
“No!”
Insectiron turned his head to see that Devilclash had crawled back onto her feet and was bending the end of the wing towards her. The jet began to creak and it flew away from the Alpha temple, veering off to the left. “No blood shall be spilt by my hands today!” she yelled valiantly. 
Then, with an odd creaking noise, followed by a loud sputter, the engine died, leaving Devilclash cursing her own futile attempts to save herself. The jet drooped like a stone though the air, until it crashed into the ground with, somehow, only minor damages. Another miracle. Insectiron pushed open the cockpit and looked around at the wreckage, then at his hands, rubbing them together. Solid, good. “I’m alive!” he yelled triumphantly whilst punching the air. He beamed at the clouds, but what he saw wiped his smile right off. The clouds were darkening. Storms sounded far in the distance, getting closer and closer. The wind picked up speed once more, rippling his baggy clothes. He had cheated death itself. He smiled again.
Crunch, crunch, crunch. The three beats. Again. Damn it to hell. Which is where he would be if he let himself be so careless again. They were footsteps. A shadow fell over him as he turned to see…
*
Meanwhile
The Entity looked down at Blue Cloud and Cronus. Their helpless forms groaned and twitched every now and then quite disturbingly.  He could see Blue Cloud’s fingers starting to move again after the paralysis, which was now beginning to heal. Hell, even Cronus’s feet were beginning to grow back. The Entity shook his head in total shock. He never wanted to meet the guy who did this. Unless they were on his side, of course. That would be ok. 
The Entity drew the Alpha sword and walked towards Blue Cloud’s head. “I do this with no regret,” he said quietly, as if trying to reassure himself that this was the right thing to do. After all, killing a paralyzed enemy held no honour. He held the sword over Blue Cloud’s forehead, tip touching skin. He held the hilt loosely in one hand, then slammed the blade through Blue Cloud’s brain, which then became a fountain of blood.
Blue Cloud’s eyes snapped open.
He stood up, sword still through his own skull. Blood ran down his face like red sweat on a very hot day. “Just the power boost I needed,” he enunciated slowly, with his teeth clenched together, due to pain, “you should never have absorbed my own power.” He touched a small device on his wrist and the robed forms of the Blind Assassin and the Master Eye flashed into existence, both smirking cruelly. 
“You called, sire?” asked the Assassin.
“Get me out of here,” commanded Cloud.
“Ok, boss,” yelled the Master Eye, “Creepers got the teleporter working again.”
Blue Cloud walked over to them, and then turned to gloat at the Entity. “Bye. Oh, and, erm, I’ll just be taking this if that’s okay. No? Ah, well. Ciao.”  He walked towards the two minions. 
The Entity sprinted to Blue Cloud and grabbed the hilt of the Alpha sword. Blue Cloud and the sword began to disappear. The Entity pulled harder and harder until the blade finally came loose with a flurry of blood, resulting in a scream of pain emitting from Blue Cloud’s mouth, which then disappeared along with the rest of him. The Entity sighed. Then he saw Cronus disappear and sighed again. He walked along the ruins, staring at the fossilized ex-inhabitants of Atlantis. Then to his amazement, he saw Insectiron. He crept over, a few small rocks crunching beneath his feet and cast a shadow over him.
Insectiron turned, but the Entity had gone, wondering about the crash on the other side of the island.
*
Incarnate hung suspended in mid-air, sending pulse after pulse down the narrow stainless steel corridor, throwing the lifeless forms of Paine, Hurricane, Incision and Tors around, like twigs in a tornado. Foton, Emola and Naarl struggled to keep their footing, while Emola wondered why there was an expensive stainless steel corridor in a space station. Knowing that they could instantly be killed if Incarnate completely lost control, they kept quiet, letting him try to gain control once more of his raw power, which was running wild around the corridor, causing the walls to buckle, but they held. Just about.
“Incarnate, stop!” yelled Foton, “You’ll kill us all!”
“I ca-can’t,” said Incarnate, yelling over the whooshing pulses of gravity, now coming so thick and fast that they were actually almost visible to the naked eye, “the voices... they’re controlling me!” His leather bracelet clung to his skin tightly, red-hot material burning into his wrist, leaving a thick and deep gash in his skins place. Flesh could be seen beneath the bracelet, mingled with thick red blood. “They say... I have to kill Naarl and the rest of us apart from Hurricane, Foton and Me.” 
 A particularly bad pulse erupted from within the young man, smashing Foton and Naarl into the ceiling, but somehow leaving Emola unaffected. They stayed up in the ceiling, but still able to move. The gravitational energy whooshed like the wind around the corridor, repelling all it touched apart from Emola and Incarnate, the two lone standing. “Foton,” yelled Incarnate, “throw me the rapier!”  Foton did so, but the gravity caught it and flung it away. Incarnate edged along the corridor towards the blade, fighting the full brunt of the forces he was emitting against himself. He threw himself on the floor and scrabbled around for the rapier, gravity keeping him down, until his hand finally closed around its handle. He pulled it towards him and turned it around so the blade was pointing directly at him. 
“What are you doing?” yelled Foton.
“Saving you guys,” shouted Incarnate sombrely. He pulled the blade towards his heart...
“No!” came a new voice that had somehow entered the fray. Incarnate fell unconscious immediately, blade just millimetres from his chest. Foton and Naarl fell from the ceiling into unconsciousness with a loud clang, creating an indent in the hard, cold floor. Emola looked down the corridor at the assailant to see the last person he would expect to see. A person he had only ever seen in a photo before. A person who he had thought Hurricane had invented to make himself seem cool.
Pandora.
“Incarnate is ours to control.” she said commandingly, a great power behind her usually fragile voice. This was quite a turn for the slowly awakening Hurricane, who was listening intently. Normally she was quite a subdued person, but now she was acting as if she owned the place. “Me and Trexor, that is. Soon, the Entity will grace our ranks and your friend Hurricane has already joined us, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”
“Who or what are you?”  Emola asked, flabbergasted at her revelation. 
Hurricane stood up and glared intently at her. “Good question.”
“I am Pandora,” she replied innocently, “What do you mean by what am I?”
“I’m serious, Pandora,” Hurricane said, deadly serious. 
“Fine,” she said haughtily, “I am The Manipulator. You can only see and hear me because I wish it, Emola. However, a group of people known as the first children can see me anyway.”
“And who are these first children?” Hurricane asked, already knowing the answer.
“Me and Trexor, obviously. The Entity may be one of us. Incarnate is one of us, as is Tao Chen. And you, Hurricane.” 
Incarnate groaned creakily as he dragged himself up the nearest wall, pointing shakily at Pandora. Getting up onto his feet slowly, he croaked at her, “You,” he accused, “It’s your voice that I hear.” He stopped to think about the possible misinterpretations of this brief statement, and then yelled again, “Get out of my head!” Pandora just laughed at him, making his temper rise past what was known as ‘calm’. He stood up straight, using up a sizeable portion of his strength, and then leaned on the handrail and let loose spirals of gravitational power, twisting and turning throughout the room, until they reached Pandora and threw her bodily down the corridor. She hit the wall at the other end so hard, that she caused a crack in it. Now it was Incarnate’s chance to laugh. He looked bitterly at her and said plainly, “You have tortured me all my life, now it is my turn to torture you.” The crack in the hull pulled Pandora to it, oxygen rapidly running out of the damaged vessel. She blocked the crack, but the hull still creaked eerily. Cracks appeared in the floor, sucking more air from the combatants. 
“This way!” yelled Naarl, directing The Enforcers to their pod. They hurried to the pod, struggling against the pressure leak. As they entered the pod, Incarnate turned and waved mockingly at Pandora. Then they were gone, spiralling through the endless empty darkness of space. 
Hurricane ran to the airlock were their ship was docked and beckoned to his comrades to get in over the bellowing sound of the pressure loss. Tors ran towards the airlock, but parts of the floor opened up with cracks and disappeared, leaving him stranded. He equipped his oxygen mask and switched on the specially made gravity boots. He looked around to see that the others had done the same. He smiled to himself, despite the situation.  A chunk of the floor whizzed out into space, bringing Tors back into the realism of the situation. To his sheer horror, he saw Hurricane, who was now in the ship, take off and fly away from the airlock. He held his head in his hands, when something cold elevated him through the top of the destroyed space station. He looked around to see that he was in some sort of tractor beam that was pulling him towards... Hurricane’s ship! He was deposited in the cargo hold along with the others. They all lay down and sighed in sweet relief. Pandora, however strode into the cockpit, took one look at Hurricane and vanished in a puff of grey smoke. Hurricane’s voice came booming through the ship’s intercom, “All right, people! We win again... sort of. Well, enjoy your rest, ‘cus we are about to enter Earth airspace in about...now! And we are touching down in Atlantis right now. Now, it might be best if Paine and Incision stay here and look after the ship. We don’t want anyone, or indeed anything stealing it. Let’s move out, the rest of us.”
The ramp went down with an ear splitting crash and Tors, Emola and Hurricane stepped out into the blinding sunlight. They stepped onto the rough hard ground to see the Entity, who was glaring at them with pure malice. “So, you escaped my men. Well, they’ll be here soon. Don’t you worry,” he gloated and raised a hand, sending a plume of lava at the unlikely trio. Tors dodged just in time, but the others weren’t so lucky, being knocked off their feet and into unconsciousness. Tors strode over to the Entity with a feeling of deep apprehension. The Entity just stood still on the spot, various tears in his shroud showed thin metallic armour covering red clothes on his limb joints. On his legs, one tear showed a pistol tied crudely to his thigh. A bulge on the other leg suggested that there was another on that leg. As Tors got closer, Tors drew his twin katana, only to hear a thin hissing in the air as the Entity drew the Beta sword. Whether it was the two snakes that compiled it hissing, or the speed in which he drew it. The snakes spat venom at him, sensing Tors’s hostility, burning holes in his overcoat, which he subsequently threw off, but it couldn’t burn through the Kevlar. He had a feeling, however, that no amount of Kevlar could help him now. He had entered the lion’s den.
The Entity began to walk towards Tors, drawing the Alpha sword and swung it lazily at Tors, who barely managed to parry it, although he did use both swords, leaving him open to the Entity’s Beta sword, which he swung at the back of Tors’s legs, sending him lurching forward onto his knees. Relentless, the Entity slammed the Alpha sword into Tors’s head, but he rolled out of the way. However, the twin snakes of the Beta sword unravelled as the Entity threw the blade at Tors. They wrapped themselves around him, crushing his ribs with a sickening crack. He winced as he breathed an icy sharp breath which pierced his lungs. He tried to move, but the snakes held him in place. Insectiron heard Tors’s fragile scream and ran over to see the Entity advancing on Tors. Metallic armour could be seen under the dark, slightly crackling shroud. Insectiron’s robotic hand sparked and cracked; it was damaged from the jet crash. Little mini explosions stated in it, causing it to bang. Thrice. He knew what must happen. Opening the access panel in his wrist, he exposed the electrical wires and tore one end of a wire out of the circuit at random. Electrical sparked at the end until the hand whined and died. Tors guessed his plan and yelled, “No Insectiron!  You’ll be killed!” 
The Entity looked around in undeniable shock and, upon seeing Insectiron and noticing his broken hand, laughed callously at him. “Don’t mate. Someone tried that before. Didn’t work then, it shouldn’t work now. Just drop it, and we can save the universe together.”
“You? Saving the universe?” scoffed Insectiron, “you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
The Entity turned to look fully at him and stated, “I am not, as you say, kidding you. I have been trying to save the universe from day one, but your planet shot my ship down. An independent faction, maybe, but all I done was distract your government from my presence. As it appears, it failed. You would be better off joining me and leaving this pitiable planet behind.”
“It’s not pitiable,” grunted Tors through gritted teeth. The Entity turned bodily and laughed cruelly at him. Insectiron turned and dived at the Entity’s leg, his grip locking around the metal armour on the knee. After his tight grip was established fully, he put the exposed wire in contact with the metal outer shell of the hand, sending over a thousand volts coursing through them both. As the Entity was consumed by electricity, his snakes released Tors, who abruptly stepped away from the fallout zone, shielding his eyes from the blinding light which emanated from the growing ball of electricity, which eroded the ground, carving a deep crater, shrouded in thick grey smoke. Tors rushed to the side of the crater as the ball of electricity subsided. 
A bare hand grabbed at the edge of the crater, trying desperately to get a grip. “Insectiron,” Tors cried nervously, bending down to help him up. 
“No, not Insectiron,” came a muffled voice, which appeared to be vaguely familiar. Not the Entity’s, nor Insectiron’s, but vaguely familiar. It reminded him of some sort of death, and a recent one at that. The only name that came to mind was Blue Cloud, but he knew for certain that that wasn’t right. Then the hand crawled up the edge, becoming a whole arm, and then lengthening into a whole body, clad in a red sleeveless shirt, which exposed his muscular arms. The snakes that were once the Beta sword were grafted to his arms. Red slack trousers were covered at the knees by red armour. His hardened features stared keenly at Tors, boring holes through him.
“Y-you!” hesitated Tors in sheer disbelief. 
The Entity threw the charred remains of his shroud off and turned and looked solemnly at Tors and said forlornly, “I’m sorry. I tried to save him, but he carried on.  So, you recognise me, after all you’ve been through these past days.”
Tors stated slowly, staring at his feet, tears dripping on his boots, “Yes, I do, Tahkshi.”


















Chapter 8: The Beginning Of The End
An F-17 jet approached Area 51, piloted by one of the soldier clones. Maria sat in the second seat, which is where a gunner would sit in a combat situation. Instead, she was being taken back to Area 51 after picking up her possessions from her previous home. She was uncharacteristically quiet over the loss of her home, but silently glad of the promotion which included a pay rise, flexible work hours and she could still go to New York- ok maybe not there, but she could still go to some other city with her girlfriends. Of course, they would ask questions, but they also respected her privacy and, if not, she could trust them. The clone in the pilot’s seat asked her a question but she was too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice his quiet, calm and, in her opinion, sexy voice.
“Miss Corrigan?” he asked again, metaphorically shaking her out of her bemusement.
“Sorry, what?” she asked, quite politely seeing as she had been distracted from her thoughts.
“Are you ready to land?” he asked in his pleasant tones.
“Yes please, Cody.” She replied. The clone certainly stood out from his identical brethren. His hair was dyed a deep red and kept in a sweeping fringe across his face. He had a small silver stud in his right ear and seemed more muscular than his brothers. Maria had almost swooned when she saw him; leaning his elbow on the wing of the jet with a smile that could blind you in torchlight. 
The jet had begun to dip towards the ground when Cody exclaimed, “What the fuck?”
Maria shifted around in her seat to see a pillar of black smoke rising from Area 51. A python of smoke tried to ensnare the jet, with its nest of flames beneath it, always rippling; perhaps the python’s babies were inside, wriggling around and making the fire worse. Maria’s eyes widened when she saw that no-one was outside; it must mean that Tao was still in there. The jet landed and Cody leaped out immediately after the cockpit had opened, drawing a small pistol. Maria did nothing, being told forcefully to stay in the cockpit. He ventured in, and was back in a couple of minutes; running with the limp body of Tao slumped over his shoulder. Maria jumped gracefully out of the jet and hurried over to Cody and Tao whilst hysterically yelling, “I know CPR!” over and over. Cody yelled at her, but an explosion from within covered the sound and sent Cody flying forwards. 
Clunk.
Clunk.
Clunk.
A pattern of three, which of course meant death even though the combatants did not know this. They backed away as two glowing tentacles appeared; illuminating the dark hallway they were in. Then came the body. Maria gasped as Vex-te came into the light; the light bouncing off of its reflective surface. “Go!” Tao muttered, spitting blood on Cody’s shoes, “this thing is invincible. You can’t destroy it.”
Maria glanced at Cody, who looked at the machine, then down at the stricken Tao. Looking around for a weapon of some kind that may harm this thing, she found only despair and hopelessness. Cody dumped Tao in the jet and jumped in after giving Maria a leg-up. Then Maria remembered the nature of machines with mouths. And she remembered about the grenades on Tao’s belt. She took one, leapt out of the jet and ran over to the machine, which stated, “I am Vex-te. I am going to annihilate you.”  And so on and on, it started ranting on about how machines are better than humans.  Maria sensed her advantage, pulling the pin on the grenade; she made a run for Vex-te, who continued to rant. It noticed her as she came into swiping range and swung an electrolysed tentacle at her. She ducked and slid across the ground but she barely made it, actually hearing the crackle of electricity as the tentacle landed its hit on the concrete. She stood and rammed the active grenade into Vex-te’s mouth and down as far as it could. Vex-te’s tentacles retracted, turning into seven fingered hands. It clawed at its mouth, trying to grasp the grenade. Maria rolled out from the doomed machine, messing her beautifully straightened hair. Then, just as she was about to get to her feet, the explosion happened, the sound of which blasted her eardrums and left a ringing for days to come. Fires erupted from Vex-te’s mouth and eyes, creating a sight reminiscent of a fire demon, the flames residing. When the flames had died, Vex-te resembles an empty shell, albeit a burned as the last order of its now melted central processing unit was carried out. 
“How?” it asked, “blasted...organics.” Its knees buckled beneath it, allowing it to fall to its knees. It stayed on its knees, swaying in the almost non-existent wind before keeling over and burying its head in concrete. Cody got out of the jet and walked over to Maria, helping her up, then moving her hair back over her ear and said quietly, “that was the bravest thing I have ever seen.” And out of exhaustion or just pure adrenaline, Maria leaned into kiss him, not worrying about his reaction or the consequences. To her surprise, he grabbed her cheeks gently and leaned in to kiss her. They kissed, not noticing the gold hair woman behind them, who was also dressed in gold. 
“Move to Fos Fernei.” Pandora, for it was she, said into a small com on her wrist. Tao, Cody and Maria disappeared. She smiled, and then disappeared herself.
*
“How?” asked Tors, panting, yet wiping streams of salty tears from his face, “How are you even alive?”
Tahkshi smirked, then answered, “I woke in my chamber with the palace falling down around me. Luckily I was able to get out through the window before the room was destroyed. I then just donned the shroud and let Blue Cloud think I was dead.”
“I see...” muttered Tors, looking at the crater with wide, maddened eyes, “and then you came here, eh? And the Earthens waged war, eh? And you killed Insectiron, eh?”
“I’m sorry, Tors,” Tahkshi said sincerely, placing a single hand on Tors’s shoulder, but it was shaken off, “I didn’t want to kill any of you. He killed himself trying to kill me. I warned him. He knew the risks.”
“That makes no difference!” yelled Tors, “if you had never came here, he would still be alive!”
Tahkshi shook his head and sighed, “If I had never come here, I guess a lot of deaths would’ve been avoided, wouldn’t they?”
“Yes,” breathed Tors, “they would have.”
“No. Not quite, “Tahkshi was getting enraged now, “if the blasted Earthens hadn’t waged war on the rest of the galaxy, we would not be in this situation.”
“You bastard! You blame everyone but yourself!” Tors roared, “You came here, for what, a blasted sword? That’s not exactly life or death, is it?”
“That’s it!” Tahkshi roared. The ground beneath them shook. Birds screamed in sky and fires burned at his fists. “You wanna know the true nature of the swords? Really?”
“Come on then,” Tors yelled, spreading his arms, “use the swords! Kill me!”
“Not exactly what I meant, you little fuck,” Tahkshi spat, before drawing the huge Alpha sword; “this is the blade I came here for. The Alpha sword.  Does that name mean nothing to you?”
“Not really, no,” Tors drew his twin katana, “but if you wanna show me, I bet I can beat you this time.”
Tahkshi rubbed his temples to sooth his temper and muttered under his breath, then said, “Fine. If you think you can take, take me.” When Tors done nothing, he roared, “take me!” Fire burst from every pore on his body, before dispersing off into the air. The ground shook, more violent that before and pillars of earth rose from the ground, enclosing them in an arena. “C’mon if it’ll make you feel better,” a nasty glint crossed his eye, “but violence never does.”
“Shut up!” Tors ran at Tahkshi, twin katana drawn at his sides. He slashed at Tahkshi, who sidestepped out of the way. Slashing again, Tors was parried by the Beta sword, which had come out of nowhere, “what the fuck?” Tors remarked at the sight of the twin snakes.
“Listen, Tors,” Tahkshi spat, “he died to try and make peace. Don’t let him die in vain.” 
“He died to kill you! And I reckoned he at least weakened you,” Tors sobbed, before drawing his twin pistols and shooting the entire ammo clip of both at Tahkshi.
Tahkshi chuckled, put the Beta sword away and drew the Alpha sword in a movement so fast, it made a hummingbird’s wing look slow. He swung the Alpha sword into the path of each and every bullet, deflecting them and sending them clattering to the floor. Tors growled and ran at Tahkshi again, who plunged the Alpha sword into the ground. Shockwaves spread out from the impact, sending Tors to the ground. Tahkshi strolled over to him, but Tors swung one katana at Tahkshi’s leg. Tahkshi jumped over it, quickly drawing the Beta sword, which extended and the twin serpents wrapped themselves around Tors’s throat, lifting him up into the air. “Give it up,” Tahkshi said sincerely, “just do the right thing and surrender.”
“No,” gasped Tors from the grip of the serpents.
“Fine,” Tahkshi said, uncaring as the Beta sword threw Tors out of its grip, “be like that. Maybe I’ll actually start to fight, would you like that?”
Tors, who thought Tahkshi had been fighting enough already, was taken aback. If he wasn’t fighting, he thought, what the hell is he gonna do when he does decide to fight? “Well?” Tahkshi asked, “You’re getting on my nerves now. So, what ya gonna do?” 
“I’m gonna finish what Insectiron started,” Tors explained, picking himself up from the ground, “and that is to kill you!”
“Again with the killing. I’ve got my sword now, I would be quite happy to just leave the Earth now,” Tahkshi drawled, “and the only thing stopping me is you and your pathetic band of warriors, who couldn’t even help you.” Tahkshi looked down at Hurricane and Emola, who were stirring slightly with small groans. Tahkshi put both swords away, the Beta crawling back onto his arms, and cracked his knuckles, the universal language for: come and get it. Tors ran at Tahkshi, swords swinging at him. Tahkshi grabbed the katana that was swung at him first, pulling it out of Tors’s grip, the blade miraculously not cutting him. He threw it behind him just in time to catch the other blade, and yank that away, too. Tors drew his pistol and shot Tahkshi, aiming for the forehead. Tahkshi waved a hand through the air, annihilating the bullets with tiny balls of fire. Tors growled and ignored the fact that Tahkshi had just melted the bullets, and ran at him full pelt, fists clenched around the pistol. Tahkshi batted him out the way like one would an annoying fly. Tors picked himself up and, faster than Tahkshi expected, shoved the barrel of the gun into Tahkshi’s chin.
“Just die.” Tors hissed, his finger pulling slightly on the trigger, “Try and avoid this.” 
Tahkshi smirked as the barrel of the gun was jammed into his chin. “Pull the trigger, then. Pull it if you’re man enough.”
Tors faltered slightly, his finger moving slightly off the trigger. Tahkshi kicked out at Tors, taking his legs out from underneath him, sending him collapsing to the floor. Tors dropped the gun and Tahkshi stamped on it, crushing the thick metal. He then drew the Alpha sword and slammed it down on Tors. Tors flinched, closing his eyes. Tors waited for his death to come, his face split in two and brains scattered on the rocks. It seemed to take a while, so Tors opened his eyes fractionally...
“Holy mother of fuck!” Tors screeched as he noticed the huge sword just millimetres from his nose. Nice sword control, he secretly thought, but would never admit it.
“This ends here, Tors. Let me have your ship, and I’ll get out of here right now. You will never be bothered by us again,” bargained Tahkshi confidently. Although, he had every right to be, what with the two huge, powerful swords in his possession, along with his twin pistols and his powers of nature. Tahkshi put the Alpha sword on one of the four sheaths on his back and walked away. Tors got up again, ran up to Tahkshi, leaving no sound but the sound of his heavy breathing and placed his hand on the Alpha sword, sliding it out of the sheath. Tahkshi turned just in time to see Tors swinging the Alpha sword at him. He quickly summoned the Beta sword, which flew into his hand. He blocked the Alpha sword. They were never made to clash, or even combine. A field of red energy surrounded the blades, forming a dark sphere around them. The blades were drawn together, pulling Tors and Tahkshi together. From the top of the temple ruins, Trexor leapt down and slammed the giant katana down on the ground. Shockwaves spread out from the impact, shattering the blades connection. He pulled the blade back up and put it away, before saying, “Stop,” softly.
 Tors and Tahkshi fell to the ground, swords falling out of there grips. Trexor picked them up and muttered clearly, if that were possible, “move to Fos Fernei.” Tors, Tahkshi and the unconscious forms of Emola and Hurricane along with Trexor rippled, and then disappeared.
*
Paine and Incision were busy. Paine indeed was busy being fat and Incision was being busy guarding the ship. When I say “busy being fat” he was indeed shoving three-foot long hoagies into his gargantuan cake-hole. When I say guarding, Incision was actually cheering Paine on. So not really guarding at all, to be honest. Paine had hidden these foodstuffs in his fat-folds along with his weapons, which was a weird and horrible way to hide them, especially noticed when he tried to give Incision a hoagie and was met with a look of- well let’s just call it “exaggerated underjoyment” . Paine had shrugged and eaten it himself after cleaning a few hairs and, somehow, a few grams of dust. Incision had chuckled, thinking does he wash under there?
Something moved outside, causing Incision to jump and Paine to drop his sandwich with a, “holy mother of fuck!” Before picking up the hoagie and taking another bite.
“Paine, that’s been on the floor!” exclaimed Incision.
“One hour rule,” he replied, triumphant.
“I thought it was the ten se-” Incision tried to say before Paine interrupted with a quick reply.
“Nope, not on Earth.” 
Something hit the outside of the Tri-vehicle, which caused Paine to jump suddenly, dropping the hoagie again, cursing. Incision stomped on it, making sure that the accursed marmite and unknown meat hoagie was dead. Dead and gone. They looked out of the window, and saw nothing. They looked at each other, Paine glaring at Incision in a somewhat curious manner as if asking “What the hell was that? The whole sandwich thing? And there was a noise outside. What was that?”
“What was that?” Incision asked.
“A bird?” suggested Paine.
“No, that wouldn’t make that sort of sound.” 
“Oh, right. I thought we were talking about my sandwich. Maybe it was one of those blasted Enforcers.” 
“Perhaps...” replied Incision thoughtfully.
A black-clad fist burst through one of the supposed bulletproof glass windows and grabbed the latch of the door. Paine and Incision leapt backwards, scuttling across the back seat in terror. The hand fiddled with the latch, then swore when the door didn’t open. The fist retracted once more, only for two hands to burst back through and grab the edge of the door, pulling it. Paine unlatched the other door. The door began to bend outwards. Paine opened the door fractionally. Incision moved towards Paine, who leant against the door, steadying himself just enough to avoid falling out the door. The fists yanked the door one last time, tearing it from its hinges like one would tear the tail from an elderly cat. They drew closer, revealing the large, bulky figure behind them.
Foton.
Paine opened the door and crawled desperately out of it, his flab restricting him only slightly. Incision followed, hurrying behind him until he ended up walking into him. “Paine? What the actual fuck?” he hissed.
Paine’s eyes widened in abject terror as he saw the tall, scrawny figure of Incarnate. Whose hands were covered in black electric sparks, which crackled as they reacted with the air. He started walking towards them, cracking his knuckles to no good avail.  His leather bracelet seemed to have relaxed now, but it had left deep gashes in his wrist that had sealed themselves up now, just leaving black trenches in his wrists that may never heal. Blood still stained sections of these trenches; much like a war had been fought there. “Entity would request an audience with you.” Incarnate stated briefly. Paine looked back at Foton, who nodded briefly. 
Incarnate and Foton moved forwards...
*
Trebular approached the Tri-vehicle cautiously after arriving a while before and waiting for something interesting to do. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two shady figures watching the scene near the Tri-vehicle. Intrigued, he moved towards where the two lurked, finding a suitable ridge of rock to hide under, listening to the hushed conversation.
“Who you got now?” asked the one that looked a bit like a shadow with odd red-tinted armour, who appeared to be the leader of the duo.
“I got Tao, with another two guys who seemed to be helpin’ him,” the scantily-clad golden woman snapped, “and you?”
“I got the golden boy himself.”
“Tahkshi?”
“Oh yes, indeed. And your bitch, Hurricane.” So, thought Trebular, the golden one is Pandora, Hurricane’s girlfriend, eh? Interesting...
“Really? Is he one of them?” Pandora asked.
“He is indeed. Pandora?”
“Yes, Trexor?”
“Go behind that ridge and abduct the eavesdropping little shit behind it.”
Trebular’s eyes widened and he quickly realised what was going on, but when he turned, Pandora was in front of him. “You!” she hissed, before grabbing his shoulder and saying, “let’s go to Fos Fernei, dear...” They flickered and eventually faded into nothingness...
Trexor got up and surveyed the scene below, where Paine, Incision, Foton and Incarnate where standing in some sort of standoff. Trexor leapt down, fist hitting the ground and shattering the rocky terrain beneath him. The others looked at him, shocked and confused. “Who the hell are you?” asked Incarnate, cautiously edging towards him.
“The name is Trexor.”
Something clicked in Incarnate’s mind. Something called “short term memory”. He remembered where he had heard that name before...
“You!” Incarnate yelled, “Pandora’s accomplice!”
“Indeed,” Trexor responded, “but her methods are awful. She was planning to threaten you to aid us, something that I would not consider. I’m here to tell you about us, and see whether you want to join or not.”
Incarnate looked at Trexor suspiciously, before Naarl hobbled around the corner and rasped, “trust him, Incarnate. He’s sincere. I’ve met him before.”
“Naarl, ole buddy!” Trexor exclaimed, “Is that really you?”
“Oh yes, Trexor. Been a long a time.”
“Too long.”
Naarl turned to Incarnate and the others, “we met at a bar a few years ago. He told me all about his cause.”
“Tell us, Naarl,” ordered Paine, “what is his cause?”
“No,” Trexor commanded, “we’ll tell everyone together.” He spoke at nothing in particular, clearly enunciating, “move to Fos Fernei.” They all disappeared, fading into nothingness...
*
Fos Fernei, as it turns out, was some sort of spaceship, complete with steel lined walls. It appeared to be more complex than the Watchman, what with the circuitry that spanned the walls. On this circuitry, the flow of electricity was clearly visible as a glowing, neon blue light, which caused the silhouettes of the occupants of this certain room in particular to be eerily dark-blue, and throwing the room into an unnatural brightness that seemed to be creepy, but not scary, just like the kind of creepy when a middle-aged balding man looks at you and your friends with wide eyes and a massive grin, especially when you’re under sixteen. 
There were two clear hollow silicone tubes in the centre of the room, one containing the limp body of Tors, the other containing Tahkshi’s body, which was slowly awakening. Slumped on the floor were Trebular, Hurricane, Emola, Cody, Maria and Tao. Standing over them was Pandora, who was shortly joined by Trexor, Incarnate, Naarl, Incision and Paine. 
“Why’s Tahkshi here?” asked Hurricane, confused.
“He was the Entity,” stated Trexor bluntly.
“But he’s dead,” protested Emola.
“No, he’s not. He survived and escaped. Fool.” 
“B-but...Wait, where’s Devilclash and Viretta?” asked Foton, who hadn’t known about Tahkshi’s fake death.
“Wait...what?” asked Pandora.
“Viretta and Devilclash? Where?” asked Incarnate.
“Shit!” yelled Trexor, before clapping Pandora on the back.
She groaned, before pushing the button on her wrist again and teleporting back to Atlantis. Trexor turned to the group again, “I trust you are all familiar with the Proti’s legend of Genesis.” When only Foton nodded and only Tahkshi gurgled, Trexor sighed before telling them the legend:
“Eons of eons ago, the quite inadequately named God of stuff was created. Some say that he popped up out of thin air, but that was mere slander as air wasn’t invented before the God of stuff. However, he was formed and he went on to create hundreds upon thousands of universe, which he compiled into a structure called the multi-verse. All of the universes lived happily in cohabitation.
Time passed.
The God of stuff, now known as the Original decided that he alone could not look over these universe and created smaller, less powerful deities to watch over each universe. He also created a being that was on the same power level as him, in case anything went wrong. He unimaginatively named this being Prototype.  It was a peaceful time.
Until the wars...
The universes began to fight under the deities’ orders, striving to become the most powerful universe with the most powerful God. The Original smiled and let them get on with it, too sentimental and caring to intervene. So, Prototype created the void, and used the void’s power to separate the universes. The Original discovered Prototype’s treachery and created the light blade and the shadow blade, forcing the shadow blade into the void. He also made Prototype into a shadow God, thus the light blade kept him in the void. The Original tried to undo Prototype’s handiwork, but this only led to different religions ending up in different universes. 
Prototype had his revenge soon...
Original delved into the depths of the void, unsuspecting the new changes. It had a population of what appeared to be shadows and the Original was not in control of his movements. Prototype found him, and challenged him. The Original, growing used to the alternate physics, agreed as he had grown in power. However, Prototype had been destroying entire universes using his shadowy minions and by tricking the populace of those universes. He absorbed the universes power, growing in his strength. He easily defeated the Original and shattered his soul. However, the soul was strong and possessed one of the shadows in the void, who was finding himself questioning Prototype’s reign before. He freed the souls from Prototype’s dark grasp, sending the shadow and the souls into the multi-verse at random. This shadow is thought to be the messiah.”
“That’s actually an awesome creation story,” commented Paine, “the ones we have are slightly boring.”
“Anyway, eight of us contain these souls.” Trexor said, getting off of Paine’s subject.
“Who?” demanded Tahkshi from inside his tube; he had woken now.
“You, Tahkshi. Tao. Hurricane. Me. Pandora. Devilclash. Foton.” Trexor listed quickly. “Now, everyone get along. I’ve abducted you for a reason: to find the last two of us and to gather the final of the Four Swords.”
“Where’s Insectiron?” asked Incision.
“He’s dead,” answered Trexor, “he killed himself to reveal Tahkshi’s identity.”
“I...see...excuse me.” Incision left to go into the designated “Department H” room, mainly designed to keep Department H and the Enforcers separate for reasons relating to extreme violence and possible war, leading to hull breaches and everyone dead.  Emola, Hurricane and Trebular followed, relieving their grief. 
“Tao?” asked Tahkshi. Trexor went over and let him out of the tube.
“What, Tahkshi?” asked Tao.
“Earth now knows of the presence of alien life. And thus, I would like to offer you a place as Earth’s representative at the Galactic Council,” Tahkshi asked, “I’ll drop the war charges, which I probably wouldn’t press anyway.”
Tao stood stock still and thought for a minute before saying, “of course. But that changes nothing between us, Tahkshi. I’ll quite happily get along with the rest of you Enforcers; you were just following your laws, but he killed one of us. And I won’t forgive him for that.”
“You’re gonna have to, Tao,” Trexor intervened, “he’s your leader, second only to me.”
“What?” yelled Tao, “How?”
“This ranking is based on the soul-power calculations. The order goes: Me, Tahkshi, Incarnate, Pandora, Hurricane, you, Foton then Devilclash.” Trexor answered. 
Tao grunted then turned to Maria and Cody, who were locked in a passionate embrace. “Maria. As the only other non-clone operative-“
“Hey!” Paine butted in.
“The only capable non-clone operative,” Tao corrected. Paine shrugged and thus, Tao continued, “I’m leaving you in charge of Department H. I’ll phone the president soon to let him know.”
A grin broke onto Maria’s face and she bounced up and down for joy, “yespleasesirthankyousirthankyou!” She calmed before saying, “yes, I will Tao sir!”  
“I’ll get Pandora to take her and Cody back to Atlantis when she returns, ‘Kay?” Trexor suggested.
“Sure, Trexor,” replied Tao and Maria. Cody kept quiet, slightly shy.
The air rippled and Pandora, Viretta and Devilclash faded into the room. “I told them about us, Trexor,” Trexor smiled before nodded at Maria and Cody. Pandora sighed and walked over to them. “You ready?” she asked.
Maria turned to Tao and said, “Goodbye, Tao. Tell the others I’ll stay in touch.”
“G’bye Tao,” said Cody, “have a good life. Paine...stay awesome.” Cody took Maria’s hand, who in turn took Pandora’s hand and they faded away again. 
Trexor advised Tahkshi to go into the Enforcers’ room with the other Enforcers, Paine sidling, or trying at least, into Department H’s room. Pushing a button on Tors’s tube, Trexor smirked. The First Children were gathered now, and Tors wasn’t going to ruin that. Electricity spread across Tors, doing less physical damage than it looked, instead re-writing his memory of Incision’s death to it being a tragic accident, with Tahkshi having nothing to do with it. He let Tors out of the tube and explained everything that had happened again to him. 
Later, after Foton had got over Tahkshi lying to him, the Enforcers pulled out a few hammocks and went to sleep. Department H tried to sleep, but were too hung up over the death of Incision. Trexor did not sleep, instead watched over Pandora’s room as she was susceptible to Incarnate’s rage.
“Ah!” Trexor winced as a jolt of pain tore up through his spine. Someone was behind him, and a blade of some sort was in his spine. He turned, but the assailant was gone. Trexor inched himself towards Pandora’s room’s door, using just his clawed fingers.
He never made it.
Tahkshi was asleep when he was stabbed. He woke and yelled, but by the time he yelled, the assailant was gone, blood was seeping and everything was dark... 




















Day Four: The Final Day

































Chapter 9: The Hand Of Death
Tahkshi awoke groggily beside Trexor and gawped at the nihilistic surroundings. The dark purple paths, oh-so nearly black, were illuminated only by pillars of red, flickering fire and yellow fork lightening. Without which, there would only be thick, omnipresent darkness. Strange things shifted and moved within the blackness, clawing at the pathway and whatever lies beyond. Tahkshi tried to get up by pushing himself up, but ended up being slammed into the ground. He tried again, and the same thing happened, except slightly harder. “So,” Tahkshi muttered for no reason whatsoever before starting to drag himself forwards. However, instead of moving forward, it was like he was being dragged backwards without any sort of resistance. Confused, he stopped all movement and allowed his eyes to take in the sights. These images travelled up to his central nervous system and triggered a fitting response in his brain: am I dead?
Trexor stirred beside him, then got up with no trouble whatsoever; it was obvious to Tahkshi that Trexor was better at being dead than he was. Trexor then pushed Tahkshi into the ground and let go, sending Tahkshi somehow springing up into the air like a spring-loaded button. He tried to step back away from Trexor, but ended up walking into him. “This is the Void, Tahkshi,” Trexor explained, “where up is down, forward id backward and left is right. This is the space between universes, separating each and every strand of the multiverse. No-one from outside the Void has ever made it through it to another universe alive.”
“Interesting...” Tahkshi tried to move forwards, but, to his delight, ended up being forced to step backwards. “How is this even possible?”
Trexor thought for a few seconds before saying, “Dunno. Prob’ly Prototype wanted an advantage over anything that enters.”
“Prototype...” Tahkshi murmured, mentally relaying the name with his studies of the First Order’s Proti, “isn’t that the so-called inverse god?” 
Trexor smiled, but there was no happiness in it; it had been far too long since he had been happy. “You got a good memory there.”
Tahkshi chuckled and waved the compliment away. “No, not really,” he said solemnly, “the first five years of my life are a blank book to me.”
“They generally are to most.”
Tahkshi turned on Trexor, accidentally turning the wrong way and having to turn two hundred and seventy degrees rather than the infinitely easier ninety degrees to face him. “Yes, but people generally remember something. Whether that be how to speak, how to walk or even how count. I awoke on Buena one day, holding the Beta sword. I have no idea what had happened prior to that day. I was taken in by the current galactic Overlord back then. We lived a good life together, both trying to dodge the media wherever possible. Until...” Tahkshi faltered as words caught in his throat.
“What happened?”
Tahkshi hung his head and a frown of sorrow bleached his face, “he disappeared one day and was never seen again. Presumed dead.”
Silence followed this revelation as both Tahkshi and Trexor paid their respects to Tahkshi’s foster father. The mysterious party moved on; one who was mysterious to all but himself, and one who appeared to be mysterious to none but himself. Everyone thought they knew Overlord Tahkshi; the youngest Overlord for centuries, the epitome of the word caring and kindness all round and seemed to be thoughtful of everyone in the galaxy. Certainly, no-one would believe that he was, as Blue Cloud had described him, “a kick-ass idiot who revels in violence and fancy swordplay.” However, recently, Tahkshi had somehow managed to upset the public after only one month in office. This may seem to be a new record for any politician of any kind, especially the Earthen ones who generally couldn’t go from day to day without upsetting the populace. This was the one and only time Tahkshi had upset them and this was only because he appeared to be dead. The next Overlord would have a lot to live up to, the populace had said.  Whether it be: the human, Cinradahs, who was despised by the general public, yet still managed to become the shadow minister; or Linixon, the intelligent glass jar of flashing purple gas, or, as he was controversially called, The Bane Of Epileptics. The public’s reaction was slightly fleshist when electing the shadow minister out of them two, preferring “that Cinradahs bastard” rather than “the awesome flashy dude who would be undoubtedly epic in power if he had flesh.” The Anti-fleshism League had a field day with that.
Dark red cubes floated slowly through the empty space around the pair, who continued to walk backwards forwards, towards what, they did not know but they could only pray that there was a way out of this dark inverse void. The path grew wider until it separated and forked. Left or right?
“We go left.” Trexor commanded bluntly.
“No,” Tahkshi stammered, “we go right. Hell is what awaits those on the left hand of god.”
“It doesn’t matter, Tahkshi,” Trexor shouted, “we’re past your mortal ideas of heaven and hell! Your damned superstitions have no place here. Die in the void, and you won’t be going to the Underworld, but somewhere far worse.” He calmed, breathing somewhat deeply for a being with no lungs, “we go left.”
Tahkshi pouted childishly, then reluctantly muttered “fine...” and followed Trexor, looking inquisitively at the path they were on. Odd, for such a path to be so clean, and yet, so uneven.
“You from here?” asked Tahkshi.
“Oh, yes. How do you think I know so much about the Void?” replied Trexor, posing a rhetorical question.
Tahkshi grunted an unnecessary reply, then asked, “You ever seen Prototype?” 
Trexor halted in his tracks, causing Tahkshi to walk into the back of him. “No,” he said rigidly, “I have not. Ever.”
Tahkshi was a great believer in the theory that “when one speaks rigidly forward-slash in a manner where said one wishes to avoid a certain subject, one must assume that the said rigidly speaking one would mean the opposite of what said one actually said.” This concept was known as “Aversion Due To Awkwardness” which shortened to ADTA. So, he changed the subject for now.
They came to a large open area with five more pathways branching off of it, suspiciously looking like fingers, especially the way that they stopped abruptly and ended in sharp talons.
“I told you we should’ve gone right,” groaned Tahkshi.
Trexor indicated a path that was directly parallel to the one they had just walked along, “that’s the other path.”
“Oh,” said Tahkshi in a small voice, “I guess it’s back the way we came, eh?”
“No.”
The new voice was eerily high pitched and sounded as if the wind had somehow gained a voice. The word was drawn out far longer than it should’ve been, like a mutant cucumber. This may not seem like an apt simile, but the mutative spores on a planet simply dubbed “Y” (as in, Y does anything live in this barren waste?) the mutant spores turned the cucumbers into a dark green, cucumber flavoured rendition of the word “boom” with anything up to a million Os. Fanatics believed that they carried the secret to how the universe will end and also, how it begun despite not being around at either of them points, as the planet itself was destroyed a year after their discovery.
Tahkshi and Trexor backed away from the source of the voice towards the finger-like pathways until their backs hit something solid. They turned and jumped back at the sight that greeted them: the five finger-like pathways were raised as if holding giant sphere over the palm of a hand. Tahkshi spun slowly on the spot, taking in the view while whispering, “Holy shit!”. Trexor knew what he meant when he looked upon the path they had come down. The twin paths merged into a thicker path, then disappeared into darkness much like a skeletal arm disappearing into a hanging sleeve. Trexor’s nerve, which had been on edge since he had arrived, finally and inevitably snapped.
“Prototype!” he roared, “Enough of this illusion! Show yourself!”
“In good time,” came the eerie voice once again. The ground beneath them quaked then, with a pivoting of the arm-like path, the ground lifted up, causing Tahkshi to clench his buttocks in order to avoid a leakage of faecal matter and falling over. Trexor, however, stood his ground stock still like an unperturbed guardian spectre, adjusting his balance to suit the ground’s tilt. 
“Where are you?” yelled Trexor desperately.
“I am the shadows beneath your feet. I am the feared darkness you shall meet. I am the ground beneath your feet.” The voice paused awkwardly, before continuing. “Well, currently anyway. For you stand upon the hand of none other than I, Prototype!”
Tahkshi and Trexor both turned away from the fingers which they were staring at again and looked towards what was blowing wind on their necks and saw a black hood rippling with the wind, covering the entirety of what appeared to be a vague skull-shaped dark mass. The hood rippled again as Prototype spoke.
“It’s about time I met my nemesis.” It sounded serpentine, the word “nemesis” equipped with sibilant “ss”s.
“Go and die,” yelled Tahkshi, unperturbed by the huge face, “or live. Whatever’s worse in this inverse place!”
Trexor laid a hand on Tahkshi’s shoulder. “Let me handle this.” He turned to Prototype, “show yourself, Prototype!”
Tahkshi tapped him lightly on the shoulder and said, “What are you talking about?” Tahkshi pointed at Prototype’s face, but it had gone. “What the fuck?”
Shadow swirled around the pair, running in circles around them. The air seemed to close in, before a pillar of glorious flames erupted itself in the centre of the huge hand.
“Shadows are everywhere. They are faster than there “true” counterparts. For example, a (goddammit, what do you young’uns have these days…) an aeroplane travels in straight line over a mountain range. The shadow must go up and down each and every mountain slope and keep with the plane.” Prototype’s voice was filled with passion and pride.
Tahkshi and Trexor jumped out of their skins as a dark figure appeared out of nothing in front of them. Of course, it was only a metaphorical jumping out of skin, as Trexor has no skin and for Tahkshi, it would be extremely unhealthy. The figure was easily fifteen feet tall and covered in a dark hooded cape as thick as the shadows at his feet. The only part not covered by the cape was the skeletal hands, with fingers that ended in razor sharp talons.
Prototype, for of course it was he, moved forwards appearing to float rather than actually walking towards them. Perhaps thought Tahkshi Perhaps there is no cape. Maybe that’s just how he is. A strange shadow fabric man.
“Please. Sit.” Prototype ordered in somewhat harsher tones.
“Where’d the rest of you go?” asked Tahkshi, refusing to sit on the stools that had risen out of the ground, whisper silent.
“Oh, inquisitive one. T’was but an illusion, nevertheless a solid one. Such things are possible to a god of my calibre.” 
The Inquisitive One glowered.
“If it was an illusion,” Trexor began, before Prototype cut him off.
“Then how can you be standing on my hand?” Prototype finished. “You remember my Hand Of Death, Trexor. My throne room. Tahkshi, go to the edge and see what I see. Trexor, you’ve seen it before.”
Tahkshi walked slowly over to the edge, glancing back to make sure Prototype hadn’t moved, or even twitched. Paranoia was eating away at him now. He looked over the edge and saw…
A vast network of dark pathways that shimmered in the light thrown onto them by the rising pillars of fire and electricity that rose up, further than the eye could make out and covered more spans of time than it takes for a movie star to make out for the camera. Shapeless shadows darted along the pathways, moving to where, not even they knew. Below the pathways where shards; shards of what appeared to be fractured gateways, showing snippets of different…universes? Vibrant environments stood out from the darkness, whilst shots of orbiting planets blended in all too well. 
Tahkshi stepped back in totally justified awe of this civilisation of mindless shadows-hey wait a minute. How do these things think, let alone live?
“Good question.” Stated Prototype drily; using his telepathic abilities to intimidate others was never tiring. “The shadows are powered by kinetic-light energy, which is the energy given off by large explosions.”
Trexor shuddered, before asking, “How large?”
“Things have changed since you left with the souls, Trexor.” Tahkshi looked confused as Prototype continued. “I’ll explain later, Tahkshi. Anyway, these explosions…well. I was created with equal power to the Original, as you know, but he put his power into the universes. As an intellectual exercise, I kidnap people from random universes and challenge them to a game. If I win, as I always do, I get my explosions…and a chunk of the Original’s power.”
“Wait…”Tahkshi muttered.
“The explosions are generated by the destruction of entire universes.” Prototype smirked under the hood as Trexor and Tahkshi looked horrified. “Trexor,” he continued, “leave us for a while.” He waved Trexor away with a skeletal hand.
When Trexor did not budge, Prototype waved his hand again, “Shoo. Get out.”
“Nah,” said Trexor, “I ain’t going anywhere. You can’t make me leave.” Then he remembered who and what he was talking to and subsequently muttered, “Ah, shit.”
Prototype swept across the Hand Of Death until he was in front of Trexor, hood to face. “Really? Shall I make you leave? Well, G’bye then.” He moved backwards and, drawing a hand that was tucked deep inside his cloak and threw what appeared to be a black sheened bowling ball at Trexor, who flew off of the Hand Of Death and into the deep void.
“So, what was that? Some sorta shadow ball?” inquired Tahkshi.
“No,” said Prototype drily, “it was a bowling ball.”
“Oh.”
A stiff silence followed, the only sound being Trexor’s distant echoing screams as he fell upwards towards the upper levels of the void. The wraithlike Prototype moved closer to Tahkshi before halting barely a metre away.
Tahkshi spun around to him and asked harshly, “So, what? You gonna challenge me for my universe?”
He paused, then, “Really? A bowling ball?”
Prototype tried to sigh, failed, and instead laughed effeminately. “That’s called sarcasm. It was actually a shadow ball really.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. And you know the challenge…” 
“Oh yeah.”
“You know the Proti, right?” Prototype quizzed.
“Genesis, yeah.”
“Then you know the challenge I invented?”
“Chess? No, wait…backgammon?” Tahkshi shuddered, “That’s more evil.”
“No.”
“Oh, I coulda swor-“
“It was chess.” And with that revelation, Prototype waved his hand over a slightly different coloured patch on the Hand Of Death, which elevated to waist height. Light from the fiery pillar bounced off of the table, which arranged the light into a black and white checkered eight-by-eight board. A set of chess pieces, one set the darkest black, one the lightest cream, arranged themselves into place on the board. Two arse-numbing wooden stools were by the side of the table.  It’s alright for him, Tahkshi thought, he hasn’t even got an arse. “Sit,” hissed Prototype, gesturing to the torture devices. “I trust you know the rules.”
Tahkshi nodded and went to sit on the side of the dark black pieces, but Prototype grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and yanked him back. “I always play the dark side.” Prototype hissed.
Tahkshi, rubbing his throat, went and sat on the other stool and surveyed his pieces. 
“Let us begin.” Ordered Prototype.
Prototype moved a knight forward, which hopped over a pawn in order to secure the front line. “So, Tahkshi.”
“So what?” asked Tahkshi, moving a pawn two places forwards.
“You are one of the First Children, right?”
“Yes, and you know it.” Tahkshi winced as a rook was taken by an unexpected move.
“Do you know much about your past, Tahkshi?”
Tahkshi’s eyes widened and his jugular bulged slightly. “No,” he said in a slightly strained voice, “I do not.”
“Would it amuse you to know that none of the First Children know of their past as in depth as…shall we say, normal people?” Prototype said slyly, almost cunningly.
“That’s not funny. I can’t remember-” Tahkshi looked into the depths of Prototype’s hood and the realisation struck like a bolt of lightning hitting an aquarium. “What did you do?”
Prototype obviously smirked beneath the drooping hood, causing the bottommost corners to move upwards and outwards. “I wished to gather the First Children in one time, one place. Understand?”
“Yes.” Tahkshi growled, taking a knight with his queen. 
“However, you were stuck in two thousand years in the past from the ideal time, Incarnate couple’a decades in the future, y’know? So, I had my agent bring you to now-ish, y’get me?” Prototype took the queen with a well-placed pawn.
“Really?” spat Tahkshi, “so who’s ya fuckin’ agent?”
Prototype chuckled for a moment, before saying, “only Blue Cloud, y’know. I approached him shortly after the incarceration of Hades. He served me for a while in turn for the Theta sword’s location. And thus, he brought you, Incarnate and Devilclash into the same place.”
“I’m gonna try and be rational here, but why were us three different to the others?” Tahkshi asked politely.
“When Trexor-”
“What’s Trexor got to do with this?” demanded Tahkshi.
“I’ll get to that, you insufferable bastard!” roared Prototype, who didn’t seem as if he could even make that sort of loud noise. Then, he calmed and said, “When Trexor betrayed me and took the nine souls, the tenth inside him, he sort of…lost a couple. They latched onto random individuals, passing their traits onto that individual. Of course, when Trexor emerged from the void, he not only travelled through space, but accidentally hit a time anomaly and ended up in the time that was twenty years ago.”
“So, Trexor is like…the messiah of the First Children, right?” Tahkshi asked. 
“I guess.” Prototype shrugged non-committedly. “I don’t, however, care. You’re all dead men in my eyes.” He took yet Tahkshi’s last rook with a pawn.
Tahkshi glared at Prototype, before moving his king forwards one space. Prototype moved his queen. 
Check.
Tahkshi’s eyes widened as he thought shit. Sweat began to pour down his face in small streams. If he lost now, the universe could be lost, too.
Prototype chuckled that annoying chuckle again. “Take your time. But make the next move a miracle.”
*
Blurred flashes of red and yellow caught Trexor’s eyes as he groggily awoke on one of the smooth void pathways. Shadows moved all around him, suffocating him with their presence. He remembered how it was before he left the void with the souls and he wondered did the souls possess me or was the traitorous notion my own?
He picked himself up and looked skywards, or what would be skywards if there was a sky, unless the universe shards that coated the perimeter of the void counted as sky. Trexor craned his neck, straining to see the Hand Of Death, but alas, he could not. Shaking his head, he drew a blade. A blade that sparkled with tantalizing silver sparks and shone in even this dystopian hell. This was the light blade, the sacred blade that, in conjunction with the shadow blade, kept Prototype in the void.
Perhaps, Trexor thought, the blades share an affinity, much like the four swords. He held the light blade up and a small light appeared at its tip. He eyed the light carefully and put the blade down. The light began to diminish. He held it up again and smiled, glancing at the paths that curled upwards towards what presumably would be the Hand Of Death’s antechamber.
And thus, the shadow followed the light through the dark place.
*
Dripping sweat created a small moat on the chess board as Tahkshi thought out what could well be the damning move. “Well?” barked Prototype, purposefully shattering Tahkshi’s train of thought. “Got it yet?”
“Shut up!” yelled Tahkshi, “I’m fuckin’ thinkin’!”
Footsteps echoed into the eardrums of the warring pair. They grew louder and faster. Tahkshi looked over Prototype’s shoulder and Prototype turned to see the source of these footsteps.
“You bastard!” roared the source of the footsteps, “that fuckin’ hurt!” Tahkshi smiled as Trexor came into view. “Tahkshi! Don’t do that move!”
“Silence!” yelped Prototype Chihuahua-like, which was quite a surprise. He rounded on Tahkshi and said slowly, “make your move.”
Tahkshi moved his hand towards the king, which he grabbed and lifted up. Prototype obviously grinned beneath the cloak. 
Trexor intervened. The light blade flew through the air towards the chess board, knocking all of the remaining pieces from the board and onto the ground with a few small clatters. Prototype stood, knocking his stool backwards, skeletal fists clenched. Then, he shrugged. “Ah well,” Prototype remarked, shrugging, “I still win.”
“How?” asked Trexor.
“Well, two reasons. One: you’re disqualified. And two: this.” Prototype plunged a hand into his cloak, pulling something the size and colour of a shoe out from within it.
“The shit is that?” Tahkshi exclaimed.
Prototype turned the item around; the item that was revealed to be some sort of large seashell-like object, what with the spiralling patterns that snaked up and around it. It had four small projections at its base, which would enable it to stand alone. “This,” Prototype dramatically stated, “is the Cornopticus.”
Tahkshi gasped in shock. Trexor shrugged. “And that matters why?” asked Trexor in a masterful display of the art of not-caring.
“Because it absorbs the souls of the gods.” Prototype responded, “Well, all the gods whose DNA is inside it, anyhoo. And when all the gods of one universe die, then so does the universe. It dies. Hades will die if your plan succeeds. Helios will be killed by my agents in your universe and everything shall die!” He paused for a couple of seconds to take in the shock and fear that stained the defeated pair’s faces, then chuckled and continued, “Is that the light blade, Trexor?”
“Yeah,” Trexor grunted.
Prototype put the Cornopticus down on the chess table, before pacing towards Trexor. “You were a fool to bring that here. After all, do you not remember the bond of the two swords? I guess you do, for you managed to find us again, right? Do you forget that if the light blade is destroyed, I am free from the void?”
“And if the shadow blade is destroyed, you die? Yeah, I remember.” Trexor growled through gritted teeth.
“Hmmm…” hmmm-ed Prototype thoughtfully, “that is indeed true, young one.”
“I’m over sixteen billion years old. How’s that young?” Trexor demanded.
“It is compared to me.” Prototype retorted, “by the way, you were killed by a traitor in your camp earlier.”
“I’d gathered,” spat Trexor. 
Tahkshi however, was thinking. If we died in our universe to come to the inverse world, then perhaps… Tahkshi dashed over to Trexor, snatching the light blade from his loose fist, before darting behind Prototype and grabbing the Cornopticus. No repercussions now, ya foolish twat! 
“The fuck you doing?” roared the grammatically incorrect Trexor. 
Tahkshi turned on him and said, calmly, “Just trust me, ‘kay?” Trexor nodded and Tahkshi stabbed him through the left pectoral with the light blade. Trexor’s eyes widened, before rolling back into his head. Tahkshi shook his body off of the blade, and the body disappeared. Tahkshi smiled, knowing his theory was correct.
“So, you figured it all out, did you?” Prototype said quietly, more to himself than to Tahkshi. Tahkshi raised the light blade to his chest. Prototype span and disappeared. Tahkshi felt something behind him. He turned. 
Nothing.
He lowered the blade and swore to himself. Something was behind him now, he was sure of it. He lowered the blade and swung around, the blade mapping his spin. There was nothing. “What’s wrong, Tahkshi? Kill yourself already! Get out of my sight! Or are you afraid, small one? Afraid that if you go back, you’ll find all of your sins waiting for you?” Tahkshi took a deep breath and plunged the blade into his chest. It impaled through his right lung. He looked down at the sword, which had not pierced the skin. He looked at his chest. A bony spike was pointing through it. 
A finger of Prototype. 
He threw Tahkshi aside, making sure to pick up the Cornopticus and the light blade. Prototype chuckled, leaving Tahkshi bleeding and groaning on the ground. The ground, Prototype noticed, was growing warmer. He rounded on Tahkshi who, by some amazing miracle, was standing up, leaning on the chess table for support. Blood was pouring out of a hole in his chest and his lung was clearly visible; a sack of pink; inflating and deflating as air was drawn in and pushed out again. Prototype glared at Tahkshi, realising what was going on.
Tahkshi smiled.
The ground beneath Prototype exploded in a stream of lava, fire and rock. They knocked Prototype down, causing him to drop the Cornopticus and the light blade. Tahkshi sprinted over to them and grabbed them. He held the sword to his chest, before realising there was no need.
He was dead, and all was well.
*
Rims of bright white light formed around the edge of his vision, with a few larger dots in the centre. The bright white rims retracted, leaving Tahkshi’s vision only slightly blurred. White noise hit his eardrums, before they deciphered the incoherent screeching as, “Tahkshi! Wake up!” It sounded like Viretta’s voice. A hand slapped him around the face, causing red-hard pain. His vision cleared a little more, revealing the hand to be that of Viretta. He tried to sit up, but was forced back down by Trexor. 
“Lay there a little longer, Tahkshi. The first entry to the void is always a hard one.” Trexor instructed good-naturedly, then turning to leave, before halting and turning back to face Tahkshi, “By the way, we’re nearly at our destination. I told the others, but we’re headed for Icarus’s Sun, an AGN at the centre of the Andromeda galaxy.” Tahkshi nodded, and Trexor left, Viretta in tow. When they had gone, Tahkshi pulled the Cornopticus from his pocket, noticing the absence of the light blade. Trexor must have taken it. He smiled at the Cornopticus, before placing it on his bedside cabinet. 
*


The Void, the Hand Of Death
Prototype sat in his throne at the top of the tallest finger-like strut of the Hand Of Death, cradling a large crystalline orb in his spindly fingers, sitting comfortably in his overly large hands. The mist inside it cleared to reveal an image. 
An image of the dastardly Blue Cloud. 
And yes, seriously “dastardly” can describe an insane megalomaniacal fiend hell-bent on destroying the universe with the powers of Hades, not just random people with curled moustaches, thin eyes and copyrighted evil laughs.
“The plan goes well, Cloud,” boomed Prototype, “they have the Cornopticus now and are heading for Icarus’s Sun. I trust you can handle the details.”
“Obviously,” Blue Cloud rolled his eyes, “jus’ leave it to me. The swords will be gathered.”
“Good,” Prototype responded, “Hades will die, y’know?”
“Of course. That’s a sacrifice I’m prepared to make.”
“Good.” Prototype grinned widely.
“I’ll see you soon.” Blue Cloud signed off, the image disappearing and the fog inside the orb returned.
Prototype threw the orb across the Hand Of Death before standing and drawing the shadow blade. He looked into its dark sheen of the blade, before feeling the skull-like design on the hilt. Wiping the blade on his shadowy cloak, he polished the sword clean, then wiped the blood on his finger on a fold in his cloak. The blood was then broken down and released into the environment.
Prototype sat back down and stretched his fingers, cracking each and every one of them. The final battle was coming, and he would be the victor…























Chapter 10: Omega
Five hours later, Fos Fernei came into orbit around Icarus’s Sun, the Active Galactic Nucleus at the centre of the Andromeda galaxy. An Active Galactic Nucleus, or AGN for short, is a supermassive black hole surrounded by layers called accretion discs, which are made by individual dust particles gravitating towards each other and gradually forming a sphere layer around the black hole. Normally these are made of hydrogen, thus the earlier layers are more star-like, made of nuclear hydrogen. However, the last few layers are completely solid, due to the cooling of space.
“Here we are, folks!” Trexor proclaimed, far too happy, but then changed his tone. “We don’t know what we could face on this AGN, but we must remain strong. For all we know, we could all die today. But, we gotta try and get that Omega sword, no matter what. Ok?”
“Yes, Trexor,” came the chorus of responses
“Ok, then! Let’s go!” Trexor yelled.
“No.”
Tahkshi emerged from the group and stood near Trexor. “One of you stabbed me and Trexor through the chest last night, causing us to go to the void. One of you is a traitor.” Shock went through the group. Tahkshi tried to see if any looks of shock were fake; none were, or not too obviously fake. “Foton, you Trebular and…Paine stay here and find out who the traitor is. Check everything everywhere in here. Check all the communications out. Good luck.”
“And to you.” Foton replied, saluting.
Tahkshi left the ship, trailing behind the others, thinking. Viretta stopped and met him as he walked towards her. “Whassup?” she asked gently. 
Tahkshi sighed and replied, “I…somehow feel like by gathering this sword, we’re playing right into someone’s hands. Whether it's Blue Cloud’s or Prototype’s, I don’t know, but it just feels…wrong.”
“I know what ya mean,” She replied, “I can feel something too. I think we all can. Maybe we should ask Naarl about it.”
“Good idea.” Tahkshi smiled and walked next to Naarl. “So, Naarl,” he asked, “what’s your talent tell you about today?”
Naarl turned, eyes slitted and his face darkened by shadows. “The end is coming.” he stuttered, “Four shall be one. Rage. Damnation. Six of us shall fall. First Children rising. Golden warrior. I see it all. Shit will go down.”
Tahkshi was stunned. Viretta froze, before saying, “Seriously?”
“Yesh!” yelled Naarl, his dentures slipping out as he convulsed with rage. 
“He’s probably right, V.” Tahkshi droned, monotonous, “Four shall become one; that was our aim all along.  Blue Cloud’ll probably be pissed off when they’re gathered and we will damn him. The First Children have already risen. He’ll try and kill us all and maybe succeed. I got no fuckin’ clue ‘bout the Golden warrior.”
Naarl shrugged and said, “Dunnoo.  Bat shit be goong down.”
“Bat shit?” asked Viretta, who wasn’t feeling very intelligent at the moment, more tired and slow than normal. 
“It’s his teeth fuckin’ up ‘gain.” Tahkshi explained.
“Ah, stereotypes…”sighed Viretta.
“Indeed.” stated Tahkshi. 
Trexor and Pandora were ahead of the crowd, leading them to where the Alpha sword, which Trexor held loosely on his palm, pointed. “Pandora,” Trexor started.
“What?” interrupted Pandora rudely.
“Take the leather bracelet off of Incarnate now.” Trexor ordered.
“Why?” Pandora spat.
“We have no need to monitor him anymore. We’re all together now.” Trexor replied, his voice flat and commanding. “Do it now.”
“But-“
“Do. It. Now!” roared Trexor.
“Ok, ok…” Pandora stormed off in a huff that wasn’t really justified. Incarnate was talking to Tors about Tors’s old sword fighting days.
“How come you lost to Tahkshi?” asked Incarnate.
“Because, in all honesty, he is the best sword fighter in the universe. None defeat him. He always wins. When we fought yesterday, I realised that he’d always gone easy on me in the contests. Most other meta-human contesters use their powers. He did not. Ever. And yet, he beat everyone without breaking a sweat. I remember his greatest battle against a Plasmatic Golem with, like, twelve arms. Fuckin’ legend of a battle.”
Pandora approached the two as they chatted.  Bastard child, she thought, you deserve to be damned just for daring to question my methods. And Trexor, too!  Bastards! She approached Incarnate, a fake smile that was all teeth, no soul, plastered over her face. “Incarnate!” she called.
“Fuck off bitch!” said Incarnate casually, walking away.
“No, Incarnate.” She explained, “I gotta remove your bracelet.”
“Do it quick then, then fuck off.” said Incarnate grudgingly.  
Pandora placed her hand on the bracelet and it glowed for a bit, before shattering. Then she strode off to talk to Hurricane.
“Hey babes,” Pandora said, nestling up to Hurricane, “how ya feelin’?” 
“’m ok,” muttered Hurricane, “you?”
“Oh, lighten up a bit, misery,” she teased playfully.
He turned on her, towering an inch or so above her. “No, Pandora. What you done to Incarnate was just cruel. I’ll forgive you, but I don’t expect the others to.” He stormed off to talk to Emola, who was caressing a small dagger in his cupped hands.
“Wassat?” asked Hurricane, pointing at the dagger.
“It’s a dagger,” explained Emola, “I stole it couple’a days ago.”
“Oh? Where from?” Hurricane asked, almost dreading the answer.
“Tahkshi’s castle.”
“Seriously?” demanded Hurricane.
“Yeah. I found it just lying around, so I pocketed it.” Emola confessed.
“Is it Tahkshi’s?” asked Hurricane.
“Obviously.” retorted Emola.
 “Ah well, keep it.”
“I plan to. He’s an idiot.”
“Yeah, that.”
Tahkshi, Viretta and Naarl approached the front of the pack with Trexor. “Hey, Trexor,” Tahkshi said conversationally, “where we going?”
“Where the sword points, Tahkshi. We’ve been over this.” Trexor huffed, impatient.
“So, we could be going to that tower-y place?” intervened Tao, leaning over Viretta.
Trexor turned to Tao and demanded, “What tower-y place?”
Tao pointed into the distance, exactly where the Alpha sword was pointing. “That tower-y thing.”
In the distance, masked by fog, was a dark tower rising out of what appeared to a circular wall, much like an old roman coliseum. The walls of the tower were embroidered with vines of gold that snaked up the tower, probably for reinforcement. The very peak of the tower was a spire, much like the Empire State Building had a few days before. They looked at the tower and decided to go towards it, mainly because there might be people there. 
They got within half a mile of the tower before the large steel doors swung open and two figures came out. Clad in nothing but what appeared to be capes. They got closer, and they’re golden skin was revealed to actually be skin-tight armour that made even Viretta, the most perverse female in the galaxy, which obviously still makes her much less of a pervert than most teenage boys. The figures, towering a couple of foot over Viretta, stopped when they saw Trexor holding the Alpha sword. “Who are you?” asked the seemingly younger one with bright, ginger hair.
“We are here to claim the Omega sword. That is all you need to know. Who are you?” Trexor replied.
“That matters not,” said the ginger one.
“Yes it foockin’ does!” Tahkshi yelled.
The ginger guy huffed, then said, “fine. My name is Helios and this here is Icarus. Happy now?”
 “Helios?” Tahkshi inquired, “As in “God of Sun” Helios?”
“Indeed”
“Bollucks,” Pandora objected, “you ain’t no god.”
“Yes, I am.” Helios replied, uninterested, “And I shall prove it to you.”
“Really?” Naarl challenged.
“Yes, you old shit.”
“Well, that ain’t very godlike language, is it now?” Viretta joked.
“Shut your mouth!” Icarus ordered.
“Wait.” Tahkshi ordered, “Icarus? As in Greek flying, dying burning Icarus?”
“Yes. I was reincarnated by Zeus in order to protect the Omega sword from incompetent fools.”
“Well, I’m off now.” Naarl turned to leave.
Incarnate bent down and whispered to Naarl, “He said incompetent, not incontinent.”
“Oh right.” Naarl cheered up then and walked back to the front of the gaggle.
“Prove that you’re Icarus,” Tahkshi was challenging.
Icarus nodded and spread his arms. His white cape became feathery and spread out, revealing beautiful white eagle-like wings that where attached by nubs of bone on his shoulder blades. “That proof enough? After Hades was locked away, Zeus reincarnated me to help Helios protect the Omega sword. Helios here was cast here by Hades and he cannot leave this AGN, so Zeus gave him the Omega sword.”
“Meh.” Tahkshi muttered, “fair enough then. So, where’s the Omega sword?”
Helios and Icarus snorted. “You don’t just get given it.” Helios explained, “You gotta earn it.” 
“How exactly?” asked Tahkshi and Trexor, but Trexor said it a second later.
“You must fight and win.” Icarus told them. “And you cannot use any of the other swords. Or your powers.”
“Who do we fight?” asked Trexor.
“First thing: it is not “we”. It is a challenge for one person at a time. Secondly, you fight Icarus and me.” Helios explained to their shocked faces.
“Really?” asked Tahkshi. 
“Yes.”
“Ok then. Guys,” Tahkshi turned to his group, “we’ve come this far, so we can’t give up now. I’ll face them. Not to be vain, but I’m probably the best with weapons here.”
Everyone nodded in reluctant agreement.
“But you can’t use your swords!” exclaimed Viretta, “You’ll be killed!”
Incision smiled about Tahkshi’s death.
“Never mind,” Trexor said, “Tahkshi can have the light blade.”
“That the extendable one?” Tahkshi asked.
“Yeah. It’ll give you an advantage against Helios.” 
“Ok then,” Tahkshi agreed, taking the sword from Trexor. “Let’s go, Helios.”
Helios led them into the tower, “this is the Bastion. This is where we stay. There’s an infirmary down there, rooms down there and the arena down there. The viewing point is up there. I want the rest of you up there, outta the way. C’mon, Tahkshi.” Tahkshi followed Helios and Icarus up a flight of stairs.
Seven flights of stairs that probably made him more exhausted than the actual fights.
They stepped out into the arena, onto the dry sands. Walls rose high into the air, which was then cut off by a clear glass rounded roof, giving the impression of a goldfish bowl: trapped with no way out. Tahkshi looked in stunned horror at the walls, which were not actually walls, but seats like those in a stadium, filled with rotting corpses. Tahkshi, who was used to death, had to retch at not only the sight, but also the stench which reached into the nostrils and tickled the smell receptors, before crushing them in its gross hairy fist, which would be covered in dog faeces.
“Well, Tahkshi,” Helios said, “your first battle is with me, Helios. So kiss your friends goodbye.” 
“No need, Heely.” Tahkshi mocked, “You’re about as threatening as a pink bunny rabbit that’s not stuffed with C4.”
“Why would you stuff…never mind, I know what ya mean.” Helios said, slightly confused. He looked at Tahkshi.
Who wasn’t there.
Helios looked up just in time for the light blade to slam straight into his face, splitting it down the centre. Falling to the floor, Helios’s face bled rapidly over his already-red cape. In the viewing point, Viretta gasped, raising a hand to her mouth. I’ve never seen him so brutal she thought, scared of her partner’s raw power. Tors grinned: he had always admired Tahkshi’s skills, but this was something new entirely, as if he had always been going easy on Tors. Tahkshi landed next to Helios and turned to where Icarus sat, above both combatants.
“Well, Icarus?” he yelled, “C’mon down!”
“Not yet.” Icarus chuckled.
“Why? You scared?” roared Tahkshi.
“No. Look behind you.”
Tahkshi did, just in time to roll to the side as a bolt of pure orange sun-fire rocketed towards him, completely annihilating the ground beneath. Tahkshi drew the light blade again and shook it, causing the blade to extend slightly, revealing the blade to be hundreds of different segments held together by flexible, elastic partially melted steel. The segments stretched out along the steel interior “spine” and became whip-like. Tahkshi smiled as he swept his arm across, the whip slamming into Helios’s chest and knocking him to the ground. Helios rose, and Tahkshi whipped the blade at him again, but Helios grabbed the blade and swung it, along with Tahkshi around the arena, before letting go, Tahkshi and the light blade spinning across the arena, then crashing into a wall, cutting his back and cracking a couple of ribs at least. Helios ran at him as Tahkshi got back up. With a hand that started to glow a probably-unhealthy orange, Helios punched Tahkshi right under the chin. Tahkshi span off into the air, the blade slipping from his hand and clattering to the ground below. Following that, Tahkshi fell, also clattering to the ground, but with a couple more bones cracking.  There would’ve been more blood, but the sand absorbed it. Tahkshi got up and saw Helios running at him with the light blade. He held out an open palm. Helios got closer, ready to pierce some soft mortal flesh. The light blade cut into Tahkshi’s hand, before he closed his fist around it and pulled it out of Helios’s hands, discarding it behind him.
“This ends now Helios,” Tahkshi whispered menacingly.
“Not quite, Tahkshi. Not yet.” Helios bowed his head and sprinted towards Tahkshi, who retaliated by sprinting at Helios. They put their fists out, ready to punch each other. Sand spewed up behind them at their heels as their speed defied the gravity pulling the sand down. Helios’s fist glowed that damned orange as he drew closer. Tahkshi’s eyes narrowed as his fist unclenched. Helios’s fist clashed with Tahkshi’s fist.
And then Tahkshi was in the air above Helios, who fell when his balance was disturbed by Tahkshi’s sudden leap. Helios rolled over as Tahkshi’s fist thundered into the patch of sand where Helios’s head used to be. Tahkshi kicked Helios in the face, a bludgeon of pain which shattered his nose and broke his jaw. Helios rose, but received a punch in the ribs and a kick in his godly genitals that made him slump to the ground. Tahkshi walked over to the light blade and picked it up again. Brandishing it, the blade became sword-like again. Helios stood up, before the light blade was shoved into his throat. Helios choked, before spinning, ripping the light blade out of Tahkshi’s grip. Helios drew another sword from a sheath at his hip, but Tahkshi kicked it out of his grasp. Helios gasped, before Tahkshi drew a pistol.
“What are you?” gasped Helios.
“The name is Tahkshi,” Tahkshi said gruffly, before shooting Helios in the forehead. Helios fell back to the ground, breaking his spine on the bone-shattering impact. His eyelids gradually closed, and the battle was won. Tahkshi looked at Icarus, who nodded.
“This is the end of you, Tahkshi!” Icarus challenged, before leaping off of his throne. Spreading his wings, he soared over the arena floor, circling the ground-ridden Tahkshi, who shrugged and drew the pistol again. He shot into the air, but Icarus dodged to the side, laughing at Tahkshi’s futile attempt. Scowling, Tahkshi shot daggers at Icarus: he didn’t take kindly to mocking. Icarus swooped down, the power of the god of flight apparent as a purple streaking aura spread out behind him, following him as he flew. Feathers shed from his wings and blossomed into viscous eagles much like a cocoon would metamorphose into a butterfly. They followed their master, swooping down and trying to claw, to peck, to savage Tahkshi, who couldn’t bring himself to put a bullet in their feathery skulls. Instead he adjusted his body weight and balance, deciding to jump from eagle to eagle until he was at the same height as Icarus. One foot on an eagle, one hovering in the air, he leapt and made a wild grab for Icarus, hands flailing in the air, before Icarus swerved, his entire body twisting to the side, face cracked in two with a huge grin as Tahkshi fell past him. Shaking his head and drawing his second pistol, Tahkshi shot Icarus twice in the wings. This wouldn’t be very serious at all if his wings were truly birdlike, but these feathers on his wings were not actually feathers, instead being complex structures of bone, made into a streamlined shape to protect the layers of muscle and bones beneath, but mainly to protect the vast system of arteries. The bullets blew straight through the bone protection layer, through the muscle and through one of the wing’s major arteries. Blood spurted out of the wing and Icarus screamed in pain, before falling to the ground. Tahkshi grasped his wing and turned Icarus so that Tahkshi was above him, cushioning his landing as they plunged and smashed into the ground. Tahkshi winced at the crack of Icarus’s ribs. Tahkshi got up from the tangle of wings and eagles, before turning Icarus onto his back and surveying the damage. His ribs were indeed broken, one bent back and piercing a lung. Tahkshi smiled and tried to lift him again, his hand slipping along Icarus’s spine.
Odd for a spine to feel so…metallic.
Then, the location of the Omega sword finally dawned on Tahkshi. Helios awoke behind Tahkshi to see him put one foot on Icarus’s spine and grab both wings in his clenched fists and pulled. The wings began to move slowly, Icarus’s shoulder blades tore through his skin as Tahkshi pulled them. Eventually, the spine came with them and a glint of metal appeared in the three deep gashes in Icarus’s back. This was the time that Icarus chose to awake, look around with his face scrunched up in an expression that implied never-ending pain, before vomiting at the sight and falling unconscious again. Tahkshi didn’t feel too bad; Icarus should regrow that chunk of spine quickly enough. Tahkshi drew the piece of metal and observed it. A section of five vertebrae like a normal spine, but it had a small button on the middle vertebrae and a nub of metal at each end. Tahkshi pressed the button and the nubs of metal extended into two katana. He spun the Omega sword to test it quickly, then jumped and punched the air. 
The door of the arena opened, and Helios led Tahkshi and the healing, coughing Icarus out and up to the viewing area. 
“Congrats, bud!” yelled Incarnate as soon as Tahkshi walked in and was hit with Viretta’s “hug-run”.
 Tahkshi patted Viretta on the back, then his eyes widened. “Where’s Incision? And why is Foton here?”
“Trebular wanted Incision instead of Foton. Apparently they didn’t get on.” Trexor explained.
Tahkshi, fearing the worst, ran out of the room, yelling, “I’m gonna go check on ‘em!”
He sprinted back to the ship, Incision giving him a dirty look as he arrived in Fos Fernei’s perimeter. Inside, Paine was sitting by a computer and appeared to be shocked. “Trebular, I found a message from the traitor to Blue Cloud!”
Tahkshi burst into the ship, drawing a pistol…
Trebular moved towards Paine…
Incision drew his pistol, wishing to kill Tahkshi…
A shadowy figure approached Paine…
Trebular drew the pistol…
Paine turned. “You! The message is from you, isn’t it?”
The shadowy figure shot Paine in the face. Trebular stopped. Tahkshi stopped and Incision faltered. Paine lay on the floor, his chair toppled over beside his prone body.
Tahkshi stood over Paine, who was trying to say something. Tahkshi bent down, listened then left. Passing Incision, Tahkshi spat, “G’day,” before walking back to the bastion, covered in blood.
In Fos Fernei, Trebular got up and went outside.
*
On Earth, Mount Etna was no more, just a viscous heap of magma surrounding a large humanoid shaped-crater in the ground. The Blind Assassin smiled as he and a figure, much larger than Cronus disappeared, presumably teleporting to where their master lurked.
At the White Cliffs, Master Eye looked out at the healed form of Prometheus and yelled, “Prometheus! The time has come!”
Prometheus rose, slowly like a ship tipping over. Water splashed over him and the cliffs, worming its way into the porous rocks. “Where are we going, Eye?” rumbled Prometheus.
Master Eye chuckled. “We’re going to Icarus’s sun.”



























Chapter 11: Pure Evil
Trebular walked up to Incision and put on his best “beaten” face, yet twisted it with scorn.  Incision noticed him and nodded at him, acknowledging him. “Trebular,” he said gruffly, “what’s the situation? I heard gunshots.”
Trebular almost smiled at the military speak but replied, “Me and Paine discovered who the traitor is.”
“Who is it?” Incision growled.
Trebular almost smiled again, “it was Tahkshi.”
Incision almost flinched. “Tahkshi...” he muttered, “the bastard responsible for killing my brother. My only brother, hell, my only relative. Wait,” a look of confusion appeared on his face, “I heard that Tahkshi fought Blue Cloud. And the Enforcers were fighting too.”
Trebular frowned at this flaw in his plan, but quickly formulated an excuse, “it was a ruse,” he proclaimed, “Tahkshi wished to gain Department H’s trust before bringing you here and sending this army to kill the inhabitants of this planet.”
Incision’s forehead wrinkled, “I thought this was an unpopulated AGN?”
“No,” exclaimed Trebular, “that’s what they want you to think. Who ever heard of an AGN with an outer shell that any living being could withstand? No-one, that’s who!”
“But...Tors said that we were on an AGN...” Incision replied feebly.
“Tors is in on the lies too,” Trebular hissed slowly, “they’ve been corrupted by Pandora. You saw her telepathy on the ISS; that’s how they corrupted Incarnate. Your “friends”” he actually mimed the quotation marks, “are in this plan too. Maybe they even instigated the murder of your brother. You were unconscious, and Tors and Tahkshi were not. Maybe they killed him together.”
“Bu-but, what about me?” Incision asked, stuttering, “If they were the traitors, then why didn’t they include me? And how come Tahkshi told you to look for a traitor? It doesn’t add up!”
 “They wouldn’t tell you, idiot!” Trebular yelled, “They were plotting against you and your brother! Your brother had suspicions and obviously, you could fight Pandora’s control, so they took you here and you would be another victim of the Enforcers.”
“What about Tahkshi?”
“What about him?”
“Why did he tell us to look for a traitor if he was the traitor?”
Trebular had thought this one through, “he had intended to frame me or Paine by planting false data. When he returned to the ship, we had found a message he sent to Blue Cloud. He burst in,” Trebular paused for a second to act emotional, “he shot Paine.” 
A shocked, strangled “no” escaped Incisions lips as the sudden shock hit him like a car slamming into his chest. Paine...gone? The one who had took them in, saved them and made them laugh. Incision’s eyes began to leak fat tears. Suddenly, he felt guilty for all those times he had insulted Paine, laughed at him behind his back. He clenched his fist and ground his teeth. Tahkshi had taken Insectiron, and now Paine. 
“They have to be stopped.” Incision stated levelly, saving an outburst of anger for later. Or, more likely, Tahkshi’s heart...
Behind him, Trebular smirked and followed Incision.
*
“I thank you, Icarus,” Trexor said graciously, “for the interesting battle and the Omega sword.”
The pair shook hands and Icarus replied, “That’s ok. And sorry for giving you a hard time, we just have way too many people coming here and trying to take it, because they hear the legends of the sword of death. You wouldn’t believe the number of people.”
“Yes, I would. You need to clear the corpses more.”
“We clear them twice a week!”
“Holy shit!”
That was when Tahkshi burst into the room, covered in blood.
“Holy shit!” yelled everyone.
“What the hell happened?” Trexor asked. The others nodded.
Tahkshi bent over with his hands on his knees. “Paine...he’s dead,” he panted. Everyone’s faces were stunned in disbelief. Paine? Dead? 
“Who killed him?” asked Tao angrily fists clenched, “Who?”
“I won’t tell you.” Tahkshi replied levelly.
“Why?” roared Tors, “because it was you?”
Tahkshi shook his head, “No, Tors, because I don’t want you to hunt the bastard down and kill him in cold blood. He was the traitor, but I’ve sent Incision monitoring him. He’s more than capable of looking after himself. Where are the others? I know Emola, Incarnate, Devilclash and Hurricane are outside, but where’s Foton and Pandora?”
“Pandora went down to see Hurricane and Foton...he went somewhere.” said Tors, looking around. “Hey, does anyone know where Foton is?”
A murmured murmuring confirmed that no-one did. Instead, someone put their hand up. No-one recognised who it was, but Tahkshi recognised it. “There you are Foton. Wearing the new armour at last, I see.”
No-one had recognised Foton because he wasn’t wearing his normal armour, which showed absolutely no signs of humanity at all bar the eyes. He was instead wearing armour that covered only his chest, waist, legs and wrists leaving his arms, shoulders and back completely open. The bottom half of the armour was exactly the same, except it appeared to be more durable and lighter. The top half had only a lightweight chest-piece; the rest being only thin mesh or nothing at all. At his elbows, were his classic elbow blades, and from them there was a thin metal pole to the wrists where Foton held a trigger that would extend the blades further, making them even more dangerous. His helmet was basic, covering only the sides and top of his head. People could now actually see his ebony skin, his warm smile, yet also his battle scars.
The lift beeped ominously, yet very unexpectedly. The doors slid open and Pandora, Hurricane, Incarnate, Emola and Devilclash tumbled out. Incarnate was the first to get up. He looked Tahkshi in the eye and solemnly said, “They are here!”
Their eyes widened in fear. Blue Cloud had arrived quicker than they expected. 
“How do you know?” asked Tahkshi.
“Th-that.” said Incarnate, pointing wildly out of the window.
Tahkshi turned to see three growing figures in the distance. They were growing because they were coming closer, and they were growing at quite a speed. One, Trexor and the others recognised as Cronus, the Titan God of time. One, Tahkshi recognised as Prometheus. But I killed him. What’s he doing here?  Time to ponder that later, he decided when he saw a creature that he recognised only from hearing the legend. Its upper body was that of a man, with leathery bat-like wings draped behind, while its bottom half comprised not of legs, but a mass of purple vipers, huge and thick, they dragged along the ground, supporting the beast. As it drew closer, Tahkshi could see its eyes: cold and heartless, yet dying for revenge from a long time grudge. This was Typhon, bastard son of Gaia. According to legend, this was the most dangerous creature that ever existed.  
Tahkshi shuddered in anticipation.
“What do we do against him, then, Tahkshi?” asked Pandora.
Tahkshi rounded on her, “were you reading my thoughts again?”
“Sorry, but I can hear stressed thoughts. I can’t help it.”
Tahkshi looked awkwardly at her and said, “Yes, well...don’t! Please. And I don’t know. Zeus defeated him by sealing Mount Etna on him, and that didn’t seem to even hurt him, just subdue him. So I guess that’s what we need to do. Subdue him. If we find a way to hurt him, even better. But that is the unlikely option. The best bet for everyone would be to ignore the Titans and find Blue Cloud. Got it?”
“Yes, Tahkshi!” came the chorus of replies.
“Good. Now let’s go.”
Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. Tahkshi looked out of window just in time to see Cronus break into a run, dashing at the bastion, axe at the ready. He swung the axe at the bastion, more precisely, at Tahkshi.
“Everyone, get down!” Tao roared. They obliged, ducking. However, Cronus changed the axe’s path, sending it smashing into the tower beneath the room they were sheltering in. The axe penetrated the walls, emerging straight through on the other side, shattering the entire bastion. Thousands of tonnes of steel fell, seemingly in slow-motion. The floor gave way and splintered beneath them, sending them all plummeting, yet somehow hanging in the air at the same time. Voices were used by all, but all were lost in the sound of the bastion crumbling down. Shards of metal fell at lightning speed behind them, some jabbing them, cutting them, and drawing blood. Tahkshi’s voice was the only one to be heard, with varied yells of “Incarnate, do something!” and “grab onto each other, people! Incarnate’s gonna do summat!”  Incarnate did indeed do something, adjusting the gravity so that they fell slower, yet they began to split apart, Tahkshi drifting off with Viretta, Foton and Naarl, Incarnate with Pandora, Hurricane and Tors, Emola desperately holding onto Trexor, Tao and Devilclash. They landed with a flump in their little groups in front of the remains of the arena. Helios and Icarus were flying high above, trying to take the Titans on. 
“Split up and move out!” Tahkshi ordered, yelling over the ear-splitting din of the Gods and Titans fighting in the air. “Stay with the groups you’re already in! I’ll move to the east, Pandora’s group can move to the west, whilst Tao’s group, move northwards. Chances are, we’ll be meet some of Blue Cloud’s generals, so be careful. Let’s have no more deaths, ok? Ok. Now go!”
They all nodded and saluted Tahkshi, who summoned Foton, Viretta and Naarl to walk with him. Viretta grabbed his hand and held it tight. He looked down in surprise as she looked up, pondering his reaction with wide hazel eyes. He smiled warmly, causing her to reflect one right back. They walked off into the east side of the AGN, Foton and Naarl trailing behind, whispering and gossiping about the twosome in hushed whispers. In fact, they were so caught up in their whispered discussions that they walked straight into Tahkshi and Viretta. They steadied themselves, and then looked at what Tahkshi had seen. 
An army of Cyclopses.
One eyed gargantuan beasts, their entire body was coated in a thick brown fat, obscuring the complex system of muscles beneath. Veins and arteries could be seen on the layer of fat, which hung off of the Cyclopses muscles and bones like clothes on a washing line. Speaking of clothes, they wore none, but the stomach fat drooped down low enough to obscure what would be covered.  The fat was not there because they ate too much, but to soften blows and to make sure that the Cyclopses looked less dangerous than what they truly were. 
Foton, a trained warrior, did not fall for the cheap ruse, mainly because he thought that the Cyclopses looked pathetic in their circular formation around a central point that Foton knew would be their general. “Let’s go!” ordered Foton, before grabbing Naarl, hoisting him onto his shoulders and charging through the crowd of Cyclopses. Tahkshi had done the same, carrying the small, lightweight form of Viretta through the army, her breasts bouncing on his head, putting his concentration right off. Eventually, after ducking under hundreds of flabby arms and a few solid clubs,   Tahkshi, Foton, Viretta and Naarl spotted the general of the Cyclops army. A stick thin...thing that appeared to be the very thing of nightmares. Leathery bat-like wings protruded from nubs on its shoulders. Its skin was a parchment-brown; murky and faded. It had no stomach, just a tight piece of skin that wrapped itself around the spine, making it appear to have nothing but a skeletal figure. Its ribs were easily visible, some even breaking the skin. It wore nought but a grey loincloth around the waist. The legs were far too long for any man; the kneecaps were overgrown somehow into jagged points. Its slits of eyes were a vivid bloodshot red and its jaws contained rows of shark-like teeth.  Bony arms ended in huge palms were the size of the average cushion, although there was nothing comforting about them and the arm-length fingers that branched off of them. In one gargantuan hand, was a black scythe, the curved blade was far longer than the average scythe’s, stained with blood.
“So, who might you be?” Tahkshi asked snidely, yet still staying away from the oversized scythe.
The general sniggered and hissed, “I am Morpheus, god of dreams.  And although, while dreams may be good, I am your greatest nightmare.”
Foton eyed him up and turned to Tahkshi. “I can take this fool. I mean, look at him. Yeah, he’s a god, but without that scythe, he’d be useless at close range. You go and find Blue Cloud and take him down.”
“You could do that,” considered Morpheus, “or you could wallow in your nightmares for a while.”
“Ha,” muttered Tahkshi sarcastically, “it’s a tough decision, but I think we’ll pass, thanks.” He turned away, beckoning Viretta to come with him. Naarl followed.
“You will not leave.” chuckled Morpheus matter of factly before swinging the scythe, locally known on Olympus as the Nightmare Scythe, at them, sending a wave of purple fear energy at the group, who were knocked down and into sleep...
*
Foton looked around the darkness and saw nothing. He tried to move forwards, tried to feel his way through the darkness. It appeared to be a corridor, but enveloped in darkness. First of all, he tried to feel around for a light switch of some sort, or even a door to the outside. He staggered through the corridor until he stubbed his toe on something hard. He cursed a couple of times, then finally found a light switch. He flicked it, sending the strip lights flashing on. Foton looked back in front of him and was instantly greeted by a frightening sight. He backed away from what appeared to be Tahkshi’s skull, with skin that was peeling off and rotting. His eyes were empty and rolled back into his head; this was a bodyguard’s worse nightmare: his principle was dead.  He felt a great despair at the loss of his friend, and a failure at letting his principle be killed. He roared in despair, letting it all out.
With the roar, the landscape fractured and lit up by spotlights that floated high in the sky. The wind screeched through the air, making Foton wish he had worn his full helmet rather than the one he was wearing.  He tried to run but the wind slowed him down, gnawing at his skin. Cracks appeared in the ground where he stepped, and fell into the abyss below when his foot was lifted. He looked up to see what was cackling above. The dark storm clouds above arranged themselves into the vague shape of Morpheus’s face, which opened its mouth wide and cackled even more. “You can’t escape” a voice echoed around the area, repeating itself over and over again as if on loop. The ground erupted in front of him, pillars of rock turning into Morpheus’s claws, leaving Foton standing on what appeared to be one of Morpheus’s hands.  He turned around, and realised that an arm-like structure was attached. He ran up there, hoping for an exit from this nightmare. Instead, he found only an open field, littered with headstones marking the areas of the dead and gone. A burst of lightning hit the ground in front of him, illuminating a gravestone in front of him. He knelt down and squinted to read the inscription.
Foton Reobscura 
RIP
He breathed in, out, in, out deeper and deeper until the roar forced it’s way out, echoing around the derelict surroundings. A few skeletal birds fluttered away, beating their wings quietly, if not silently, but discretely nonetheless.  He continued up to Morpheus’s shoulder and looked out into the distance. A translucent vortex encircled the pair, scattering debris and dust around, blowing it into Foton’s eyes, which he shielded with his forearm, turning the black armour a sandy brown in a matter of seconds.  He had reached the topmost point of Morpheus’s body now. Before, he had never been bothered by heights, but now a newfound vertigo was drawing in on him from all sides. His legs turned to jelly and his knees buckled, sending him plummeting into the murky abyss below; the abyss that was shrouded in thick fog. He braced himself for an impact as the wind rushed past his face, specks of dust scratching at his skin like a many-clawed beast. His eyes closed, he knew not how close or far he was from whatever lay waiting for him at the bottom. If, indeed, there was an end to this fall that seemed to carry on forever and ever...
Until he hit the ground, which erupted into a sea of fire and brimstone behind him, the heat of which caused him to sweat greatly, sending streams gushing down his face, coursing over every ridge and wrinkle.  He looked up at the dark storm clouds, which were clashing against each other in what was seemingly laughter, but in actual fact thunder and lightning. “Welcome,” came a hiss to Foton’s right. He turned and saw the true form of Morpheus, sitting in some sort of throne which, in turn sat on a high rise stair case that ascended a large hill. Morpheus smiled and continued, “To your nightmares.”
“Really? I thought it was an amusement park,” retorted Foton snappily.
Morpheus laughed outrageously, before hissing once more, “of course it’s your nightmare: myctophobia, fear of darkness; atychiphobia, fear of failure; claustrophobia, fear of entrapment; acrophobia, fear of heights; bathophobia, fear of falling; ancraophobia, fear of the wind; chronophobia, fear of time passing by; keraunophobia fear of storms...”
“I was not afraid,” lied Foton, but he never could lie well.
“Phobophobia, Foton?” hissed the nightmare god.
“No!”
“Not even,” Morpheus cackled, “hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia?”
“Wh-whats that?”
“Fear of long words.”
“Ironic.”
“Agreed.”
Morpheus rose from his seat and stretched his arms, taking his eyes off of Foton for just a second. But, that was all Foton needed, charging up the stairs. Morpheus snapped to attention once more and laughed. “Thought you had me off guard, Foton?” the dream lord spread his arms wide and the stairs below Foton crumbled and fell into whatever monstrosities lay below in this wretched land.  Foton continued to run up the stairs and eventually approached Morpheus, hit the scythe away and drew his fist back to punch Morpheus. A flash of lightning and thunder rumbled. Foton blinked and winced at the lightning flash before turning back to Morpheus. A rattled gasp escaped Foton’s lips as he saw Morpheus’s face. It was not the nightmarish face it was, but a warm round face, complete with locks of light brown hair that flowed down to her waist. Full red lips were the focus of her beauty, but the rest of the face was still spectacular in Foton’s eyes. He pulled his punch, not hitting this female and staggered backwards. This couldn’t be...
My mother is dead.
As if to correct reality, a shot sounded in the distance. Foton’s mother lurched forwards, as if shot. No blood fell from her, but Foton rushed to her, even though he knew it couldn’t be real. She shook her head as another flash of lightning illuminated the night. Foton looked back at his mother, who now possessed the distorted features of Morpheus. He jumped up, before stabbing Morpheus straight in the throat with his new elbow blades. More lightning and Foton was left kneeling beside his slowly dying mother.
“You killed me.” She uttered painfully, “I will never forgive you for this, son. Never!”
“I never killed you, mother,” replied Foton, “I...”
“You killed me!” interrupted Foton’s mother, “if you didn’t, then what was that? You stabbed me, son. In fact, no,” She looked directly into Foton’s eyes and spat, “I have no son.”
Foton’s heart shattered. Even though he thought that his mother was not real, for she died years ago, her words punctured his tough exterior to eat away at the soft inner shell that he liked to hide away from everyone else, even himself. No emotion no thought and certainly no tears had escaped Foton for an entire ten years; ever since he became a bodyguard so that he could avenge his family’s brutal murder by bringing justice and protection to the galaxy. 
Now, what had he become, but the very thing he had set out to destroy?
“Morpheus! Where are you?” he roared at the derelict surroundings. The only answer was in the winds, which howled past his ear in vicious mini-cyclones. 
Foton trudged through the once solid ground, which was now turned into some sort of derelict swamp, filled with corpses. He leant down and turned one over, fearing the worst. But, it was just an ordinary skeleton, just floating in the swamp as you do. He felt a cold... thing clasp his leg. Shamefully crying out, he tried to shake whatever it was off, but the grip cut deep gashes into his leg. He turned his head as far as he could and squinted at what was clinging to it: a greying, rotting skeleton. Foton bent down and lifted the skeleton up by its neck above his head.
“Put me down,” a female voice commanded.
Foton, shocked, obliged, placing the skeleton down in front of him. Its head twisted towards him and hissed, “thank you for obliging. Son.”
Foton gasped and stepped backwards in shock. “No. You’re not my mother.” he breathed deeply. “You died years ago.”
“And look what death has done to my complexion,” she continued, “I thank you, son. For sending me to hell.”
“So, is that where we are, is it?” Foton asked, unusually calm.
“How can you be so calm? We’re here because of you!” yelled his mother angrily, head shaking in rage threatening to break the fragile spine.
“How is it my fault, Mother? If that is who really are?” asked Foton coolly.
“’Course it’s your fault, son. You killed me!” she spat.
Foton grunted. “Well, at least I know you’re not real now.” He moved over to her...
“How dare, Foton Reobscura? Say that I am not real, will you? You killed me, years ago.” She growled softly and somewhat calmly, which made it much worse. 
“You are from the Morpheus’s little world, mother!” Foton said snidely, “I never killed you. You are but a creation of nightmares, fished from my memories.”
“If it was fished from your memories, then why did you have memories of you stabbing me?” Foton’s Mother played the final trump card.
Foton froze and stared at nothingness, but in fact watched himself stab his own Mother in the throat, just minutes ago. Could he have fished it from my memory? If not, then why did it happen? All of Morpheus’s nightmares appeared to be based on a memory, according to legend. Did my mind suppress the memory? If so, it would explain the fact that no-one was ever convicted for her murder. No-one would suspect the son. And as Foton’s world collapsed, one other world was burning down...
*
Trees burning, falling as the roots shrivelled up and died. People, innocent people screamed in fear as the forest burned and burned on the Adjeti planet, Buena. People tried to flee from the village, which was hidden deep inside the forest, but their escape was cut off when a tree fell, crushing a few and hindering the rest. One child managed to escape before the tree collapsed, and turned back in time to see the tree fall and crush his mother. The flames flickered in his deep blue eyes, giving it a tint of red as tears poured down his chubby cheeks. His father approached the tree and, knowing his fate, he yelled, “Son! Take our treasure and keep it safe!” He threw a sword over the tree and the child hurried to pick it up, holding it tight. His father’s tears ran unchecked before his final words, “I love you, my son!” before another tree crumbled and collapsed, trapping him between flames. The fire spat at him, burning and searing his flesh. The child could only watch as both his parents fell victim to the vicious flames. He turned away and held the sword tight, hugging it to his chest. A blue apparition appeared in front of him suddenly, startling him. A child’s natural curiosity took him up to the strange apparition, which grabbed him and disappeared...
Tahkshi, confused by this vision, pondered why he was being shown this by Morpheus.  Then he remembered what Prototype had told him; told him about his past. He remembered that these people were Adjeti. The scene replayed, over and over, prompting Tahkshi to inspect the sword that the child was carrying: the Beta sword. Tahkshi knew it, deep in his mind the moment he had first seen the child: he was the child, the child was him, albeit five years old, five hundred years ago, give or take. And with this realisation, memories of his life among the Adjeti came flooding back, his training, his friends, his parents, everything was back in place. Tahkshi spent a few minutes just trawling these memories, feeling a great feeling of rediscovery and joy. But also, overwhelming sadness; his parents, friends and acquaintances, all perished amongst the flames. Tears streaked down his face, before these facts meant nothing to him, but the loss of this amnesia brought all of the pain, the suffering back. However, going through the memories of his training, more power flowed through him. His memories must have contained the secret to unlocking the true power of the Adjeti. Combined with the Beta, Alpha and Omega swords, he should be unstoppable.
“Ha! Really?” came a scornful voice from behind.
Tahkshi turned to see the thin form of Morpheus approaching. “I think so, yes.” Tahkshi replied confidently.
Morpheus chuckled, “I think not, mortal. Your compassion for others, your regret for your murders that plague your mind...they are your greatest weakness. You will never better any of us; any of the Church Of Cloud, if you continue like this.”
Tahkshi smirked and shook his head, “really, Morpheus? So, if I can beat you, I can beat all the others?”
Morpheus hissed “yes!” straight away, no hesitation.
“So, you really believe that you and Blue Cloud are on the same level?”
“No. I could defeat him easily. Break his bones, crush his heart, and eat his soul...”
Tahkshi shook his head and laughed humourlessly at him. “Really, Morpheus? Fool.” The Beta sword leapt into his hand and he raised it over his head. With a yell of, “Ancient Adjeti Thousand Sword Technique!” a thousand swords emerged from around Tahkshi, made of ivory, lava, mud, bark, vines, anything natural, and launched themselves at Morpheus with lightning speed. Nothing should survive. 
The dust cloud kicked up by the makeshift blades cleared. Morpheus was...hell, he was fine. Not one of blades had missed him, they had all impaled him, that was evident from the wounds, but he had pulled them out of him or himself off of them. Small wounds that were once large wounds were closing up quickly; Tahkshi had never seen this level of regeneration before, not even from Prometheus. 
“Don’t you get it, Tahkshi? In this dream world, no-one can defeat me! Everything that happens here, I can control. Apart from, of course, the victims. But I can manipulate them. And that is the basis of the dream world.”
“So, you think you could defeat anyone and anything here? Even Blue Cloud?”
“Obviously.”
Tahkshi put the Beta sword back on his armour and unsheathed the Alpha and Omega swords. He shook the Omega sword, allowing the twin blades to pop out. He slashed at the air with the Alpha sword, allowing it to glow a vivid red. “Morpheus...” he roared.
“What?” Morpheus asked as Tahkshi launched himself into the air.
“You lose!” Tahkshi put the blades together, infusing the Omega sword with the power of the Alpha sword, and brought the Omega sword down on Morpheus, whose head was sliced open by one edge, then sliced it clean off as he brought the other end round. Tahkshi landed as Morpheus’s corpse landed with a dull thud.  Tahkshi smiled as his surroundings dissolved.
When he saw what came next, his smile froze and changed into a frown.
*
Folds upon folds greeted Viretta as she looked into the huge mirror that occupied her chamber. She looked at it in disgust, checked around the sides of the mirror to check it wasn’t a window, but got out of breath doing even that simple task. She looked down to see that the mirror was indeed a mirror; her flat stomach had become a mass of fat. A man came in, mousy brown hair, perfectly chiselled chin and all the muscles a girl would want.
“Naarl?” she asked.
“Viretta?” he asked.
“You’re hot!” she exclaimed, surprised.
“You’re not!” he exclaimed, disgusted.
“Wow, never thought I’d say that,” they said in unison.
They chuckled then both screamed as they realised their predicament: their most vital weapons were lost: Naarl’s wisdom and Viretta’s deceptive looks. Now, Viretta looked like a beached whale, albeit blonde and Naarl looked like an Olympian style athlete with a hot-headed streak. 
“Well, well, well,” a soft voice sounded from behind, “been on the pies Viretta, dearest?”
“Who?” she whispered, turning to see... “Tahkshi!”
“So it is you? Is this what Morpheus done to the pair of you, then?”
“I guess so,” replied Naarl, “I don’t know any other way of getting younger.”
“So you don’t, do you?” hissed Morpheus’s voice from somewhere in the air, “I’ve weakened the pair of you now; taken away your wisdom, Naarl, your agility, Viretta. Only Tahkshi has sufficient power to even think of taking me on.”
“I’ve already you, Morpheus. I can easily do it again,” spat Tahkshi uncharacteristically.
Morpheus laughed and appeared in his full glory in the chamber’s doorway. The chamber then dissolved into nothing, leaving behind a cellar full of cobwebs, dust and nails. Ropes hung from beams along the ceiling, carrying corpses into the air. “Bring it on.” Morpheus hissed, drawing the nightmare scythe from inside a newly appeared black cape.
Tahkshi beckoned to Viretta, “pass me your gloves, V.”
She looked confused, but handed them other saying, “Ok.”
He put them on slowly, making sure that the nerve probes connected to his skin. He winced as they pierced the skin, attaching to the nerves. Morpheus looked at him and laughed. “You can’t even handle pain. What can you do against me?”
“You wanna find out?” Tahkshi said coldly, sending shivers down even Morpheus’s spine.
“What can you possibly do? You, a mere mortal?” Morpheus spat, passing his misgivings aside.
Tahkshi smiled widely. Then he drew the Alpha and Omega swords and held them together, then tapped the twin snakes on his arms with the Alpha sword. The snakes glowed a vivid red, along with the two swords. He smiled, allowing electricity from the gloves to flow through the blades, particularly the Beta sword on his upper arms. He pointed the swords at Morpheus, the Beta armour forming a cyclone between them, and the gloves throwing electricity into it.
“What are you planning?” Morpheus hissed uncertainly. 
The cyclone spun faster and faster, the electricity fuelling it and crackling around it. Tahkshi pulled the blades apart, sending the cyclone flying at Morpheus whilst roaring, “Bio-electricity-cyclone-destroyer!” The cyclone flew at Morpheus, who underestimated it, choosing not to dodge. The cyclone hit him full on in the chest, then dissolved.
“Ha! Is that your pathetic attack? Your best shot?” Morpheus laughed. Then noticed the true effects of the cyclone: his body was dissolving. “What trickery is this, Tahkshi?”
“Bio-electricity is what holds the very atoms of everything together. Electrons form the bonds between each and every one. The bio-electricity cyclone is something I thought of on a whim. I assumed that it could shatter the bonds, or at least cancel out the bio-electricity.” He smiled at Morpheus as he dissolved entirely into atoms. The dream world shattered, shattered into a millions shards of glass, each shard of glass had a moving memory on it, giving the impression of memories and minds shattering.
Foton tried to reach out to his mother as she shattered with the rest of the memory. “No!” he yelled, hand outstretched. They soon found themselves awake once more, normal again. Viretta sighed in relief, Naarl looked at his wrinkled hands and stroked his beard, revelling in the fact he was old again. Tahkshi woke and checked himself out, noticing that he didn’t actually have Viretta’s gloves on. Wow, he thought, he actually created a world inside our minds. I was expecting illusions at most. Foton clawed at the rocks in front of him, “mum...” he whispered faintly. Tears dripped down off of his helmet, and onto the floor.
 Tahkshi put his arm round his friend’s shoulder and whispered gently, “I don’t know what that bastard said or done to you, but it wasn’t real, Foton. All a dream.”
Foton looked at him tearfully and slowly said, “He made me think I killed my mother.”
“But you didn’t, Foton. You didn’t. He showed me my past. The one I didn’t know about. My parents are dead, too. But what he done to you was cruel and we should make him pay.”
“What destroyed the dream world?” he stammered.
“I did. I ripped him apart with cyclones and electricity.”
“Cool,” said Foton, smiling. 
“Aw...look at you,” came a hiss from behind.
They turned. Tahkshi glared at Morpheus. Foton glared at Morpheus. Viretta glared at Morpheus. Naarl glared at Morpheus, but then his long hair went in his eyes, causing him to blink, eyes watering. Morpheus wasn’t best pleased; he had been destroyed in their dreams twice, and was seething with rage. He raised his hand, signalling the Cyclopses to surround the foursome. Foton looked at the Cyclopses and laughed. “You’re gonna need more than that, Morpheus,” he said triumphantly. “Tahkshi, Viretta, Naarl, you go on. I can deal with these. I need my revenge.”
“You can manage?” Tahkshi asked.
“Easily.”
“Ok then. Keep well, old friend.” Foton waved goodbye to the others as he leapt onto a Cyclops, quickly locating its weak point and pulling it out: the eye. Blood splattered the floor, before the Cyclops sunk to the floor. Foton smirked and looked at Morpheus. “You’re dead.”
Tahkshi, Viretta and Naarl walked away, talking about the dream world until, “do you think he can handle them, Tahkshi?” Unbeknownst to them, a fog was beginning to form around them. 
“Naarl, the question is: can they handle him?” The fog grew thicker, enveloping them...
The trio laughed in unison before something cracked them over the back of the head, sending them all into darkness...
*
Devilclash, Emola, Tao and Trexor had become accustomed to each other and had begun to move northwards when a loud thumping battered their eardrums. “What the hell is that?” asked Tao apprehensively. They all turned to see Typhon slithering towards them, Helios and Icarus in his clawed fist. Cronus and Prometheus marched towards them, but they stayed behind Typhon, who was the largest of the three.  Typhon raised his arm and threw the two gods at the ground. They slammed into the ground, forming two large craters as their spines snapped. Trexor rushed over to investigate the two Gods; they were slowly healing. Good, Trexor thought, looking up at the titans, because there’s no way we can take these guys down. Not Typhon, anyway.
Emola and Tao had walked near to Prometheus’s feet now, and Emola yelled up to him, “You hide behind your size, coward. Tahkshi told us how you can shrink and grow again. Now come down to our level and face us like a man!”
Prometheus laughed, but then replied angrily, “How dare you accuse me of cowardice? You, who hide behind guns and war machines? You mortals disgust me. So, I shall agree to your challenge: I will fight you on your terms.” He placed his hands on his chest; arms crossed and began to shrink. The chains also shrank, but in proportion to his shrinking. After a couple of minutes, he was a mere nine feet tall. He shook out his arms, allowing the chains to untangle with a slight clinking. Emola and Tao drew pistols from holsters on their thighs and pointed them at Prometheus’s face.
 Or where it was, anyway. He darted out of their range, then from side to side, faster than they could move their arms, or indeed, their pistols. The chains swung round with a clink; Tao and Emola’s only warning, before they ducked, narrowly avoiding the bludgeoning chains that swept overhead, catching a few hairs on their way round. “Cowards!” Prometheus roared, before slamming the chains into the ground, sending blue shockwaves along the ground. Tao, leapt over them, but Emola wasn’t so lucky, being floored by the spreading waves.
Cronus looked down at Devilclash and smirked. Trexor turned away to Typhon, the truly dangerous one. “Die.” Trexor stated, his deep voice resonating all the way to Typhon’s pointed ears. Typhon chuckled; sounding like a thousand thunderclaps. Trexor shivered in fear: not even Zeus could defeat this monster. Here I go...
Trexor drew his blade, which glistened in the dim starlight. He shook it at the air in front of him, and the blade went flexible; almost whip-like. As he swung it in the general direction of Typhon, it extended and wrapped itself around one of Typhon’s purple viper legs. The viper bent to look at him, then hissed and spat venom at him. Trexor flinched and dodged the splatters of venom, but Typhon spread his huge wings and took flight, rising high into the air before shaking Trexor off. Trexor landed on his two feet; cat-like. He looked up at Typhon, who was circling him in the air above, bird of prey like. His vipers were looking down below, looking less like legs and more like weapons. In fact, they didn’t even look like vipers anymore now that black leathery wings had unfurled on them and spiky spines had appeared over their backs. Then Trexor realised: they’re not vipers, but lethal dragons. But it was too late for Trexor when, as soon as he realised, the dragons snorted, sending rough spheres of fire and plasma raining down upon him. His sword wouldn’t help him now, he realised much too late, before throwing himself to the floor. The fireballs hit the ground around him; the heat radiating on his face, but no sweat ran: shadow beings had no sweat glands. Trexor thought that the worst was over, so he rose once more, then looked up at Typhon. But he did not see Typhon, only an orange-red fireball. He swore whilst leaping to the left, slamming himself to the ground. His foot was caught as the fireball exploded, burning it. He rose again, putting his weight on his other foot. He still winced, but persevered. For the sake of existence, we need the Theta sword. He thought in a moment of desperation, but these thoughts fuelled him; that was how he survived the void. Typhon landed, falling heavily onto the dragons that were his legs before bending down and grabbing one of the dragons. Oh no. That’s disgusting. Trexor thought as he realised what Typhon was doing. Typhon tore the dragon off and made sure it was straight, before it went into rigor mortis, forming a huge spiked sword. He then combined it with another, making the one thousand foot sword. Trexor stared, jaw dropped in disbelief: Typhon hadn’t even flinched or felt any pain when he tore his legs off. Of course, Trexor thought, his legs were alive; I saw that before it went into rigor mortis. So, his legs and him are separate beings? But where is his main brain? This is a Titan, so I wouldn’t expect it to be in his head...but that is the only part remotely like another Titan...hell, let’s try it!  He shook his sword and leapt at Typhon, wrapping the sword around his throat. Typhon swept his sword at Trexor, but he swung out of the way, wrapping the sword even more around Typhon’s throat. Typhon did not gasp for air, to Trexor’s surprise, but instead scratched his throat with his free hand, shattering Trexor’s sword. Trexor plummeted to the ground, cursing all the way and still holding onto the hilt of his sword; the rest of the sword just emits from that, so it mattered not that the blade was shattered. Trexor closed his eyes as he braced for impact...
But then he was flying, riding the air in Icarus’s arms whilst Helios pelted Typhon with sun-fire. Cronus stopped battling Devilclash to look at the Gods and fled to where Blue Cloud’s ship must be. Trexor watched him go until Icarus said calmly, “go after him. We can handle Typhon. You see, you know when you thought of how to beat him?”
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t think it. You freakin’ yelled it.”
“Woops.”
“Indeed.” Icarus dropped Trexor off near Prometheus. “But do us a favour and get rid of this small fry.”
Trexor smiled, “Will do. Oh, and Icarus?”
Icarus turned back around in mid-air, “yes, Trexor?”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime,” Icarus flew up into the air and began his assault on Typhon.
Trexor moved Tao and Emola out of his way so he could get to Prometheus. He strode over to Prometheus, who was still slightly taller than him. “Hello, Prometheus. How are you today?”
“I’ll be good...after your death and this job is done.” Prometheus grunted.
“Please speak properly. I won’t respond to your threats or even if you grunt at me. I prefer to be spoken to properly. Now please be courteous.”
“You twat. How could you make these demands on a battlefield?”
“I just don’t like people who don’t make an effort to talk.”
“Is that why you betrayed Prototype?”
Trexor’s eyes widened and he darted over to Prometheus, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground, “How do you know about that? Tell me, you swine!”
Prometheus only smiled and said cockily, “Blue Cloud knows all about the First Children. Didn’t Prototype tell you that?”
Trexor calmed, yet still threw him a fair way. Prometheus landed with a flump, then ran at Trexor, chains flying. Trexor dodged the chains and grabbed one, then the other and swung them over his head, taking Prometheus with them. Up and up he flew before...
Bang. 
Prometheus fell from the air, trailing blood behind him as Tao’s bullet pierced the heart when Prometheus was defenceless. Thick red blood covered Trexor as Prometheus flew over, then landed in a pool of his own blood in front of Tao and Emola.  “That’s what you get for insulting mortals.” Emola whispered menacingly. 
They ran away, to the north, Devilclash trailing behind.
*
Pandora, Incarnate, Hurricane and Tors hurried towards the west. Incarnate and Pandora occasionally turned to glare at the other: this was going to be an uneasy truce. Hurricane held Pandora’s hand passionately, even if she wasn’t paying attention. They walked in silence until Tors said casually, “Nice weather.”
“Yeah, I guess,” muttered Incarnate, “quite warm I guess.”
“We are standing on a thin layer of rock over sun-fire,” Pandora retaliated, “it’s not gonna be cold, is it?”
“Who exactly cannot say that you are a total bitch?” spat Incarnate.
“At least I can say that I’m not clinically insane,” Pandora smirked.
Incarnate growled at Pandora. Tors grabbed his arms and said, “Pandora, ya bitch. Incarnate, ignore her.”
“Fuck you,” Incarnate spat, before throwing Tors off him, “sorry, Tors, but I need some alone time to think. Or at least, away from Pandora.”
“I’ll come with you, if you want,” Tors suggested, “I’ve about had it with this whore.”
Incarnate smiled and said, “Let’s go, then.”
Tors went with him, looked back at Hurricane and mouthed, “Sorry, bud, but she’s an arse and he’s a decent fella. See ya later.”
Tors and Incarnate departed, walking towards a small mountain that Helios had assured them was called Mount...well, he had forgotten what it was called, and so we’ll ignore the name for now. As they approached the mountain, they became aware of a large wall in the distance with what appeared to be a dust-cloud in front of it.
“Wassat?” asked Tors incoherently.
Incarnate squinted into the distance. “I’m not sure...it looks like a few hundred...people and a couple of...Holy shit! A couple of tanks!”
“What?” Tors cupped his hands around his eyes like makeshift binoculars and squinted into the distance, then said, surprised, “Minotaurs.”
“Or intricately detailed masks...” Incarnate countered.
“No, Incarnate. Just no.” Tors sighed, massaging his temples slowly.
The Minotaurs charged at them as they spotted the twosome, kicking up a dust cloud behind them. The leader of the Minotaurs was out in front, a normal human, just extremely bulked up and appeared to be rotting, flesh occasionally falling off with a small squelching, causing him to pick it up, lick it and stick it back on. He carried a brutal-looking double bladed battle axe, which seemed be rusty around the edges; that axe was the sort of weapon that gave weapon-cleaners a bad name; that rust could infect someone after dismembering them as easy as cutting through butter. The wielder of this weapon evidently liked butter, being a fair bit chubbier than even the bulk of Paine. Tors and Incarnate looked at each other and thought almost exactly the same thing about Paine and chuckled. 
Behind the axe-wielding-fat-guy, were a couple of tanks, running on the exact same caterpillar treads that the Earthen ones do. They were attached to the main body of the tank and on top was a pentagon-shaped area where the Minotaur driver would sit. The tanks’ barrel was cylindrical, obviously, but instead of a hole going down the centre, a woman’s head protruded from it. Tors and Incarnate were confused about this, briefly thinking that this army may not be an army, but a Minotaur circus of epic proportions featuring these women being shot out of cannons. Perhaps the axe-wielding-fat-guy would cut someone else in half. Not really of course, that would be weird. 
The axe-wielding-fat-guy decided to yell, but it was a feeble sound nonetheless. Incarnate and Tors couldn’t hear what he said, just an incoherent burst of sound that made totally no sense whatsoever. They shrugged, and the axe-wielding-fat-guy must have seen them, because he motioned for one of the Minotaurs to hand him what appeared to be a megaphone carved from bone. He held it to his non-existent lips and roared, “I am Minos, the Minotaur king! And son of Zeus!” He coughed, the illness in the voice sounding even more so due to the amplification of his voice. Tors raised his eyebrows and sighed heavily. Why must we always meet the lunatic fringe?
*
Hurricane and Pandora continued through a newly appeared fog, chatting about their past and their blossoming relationship before something cracked them both on the back of the head, sending them both into unconsciousness. A huge (and I mean huge) figure waved his hand, dispersing the fog. It then grabbed the two bodies and dragged them away, like a fucking massive version of Insectiron in the Afanisei battle. The hulking figure dragged them away, disappearing into the dark horizon...
*
The figure finally reached a clearing, in which there were three more unconscious bodies and a large green container. It was a sort of icky green, the sort of green that reminded you of puke and snot but also the kind of green that your grandmother or elderly relative would paint their living room in a moment of bad and unreasonable judgement. The figure threw Pandora’s and Hurricane’s bodies with the three others: Tahkshi, Viretta and Naarl. Tahkshi was beginning to wake with a slight flickering of his eyelids. The huge figure slapped Viretta round the face with his hand, which sort of consumed the entirety of her small face. The hand was huge, almost the size of a regular door, which was only slightly out of proportion to his body, which was covered entirely in an armour that seemed to be made of greying skulls with no pock marks or even the slightest scratch, looking completely new, although the decor made it seem millions of years old. Viretta’s eyes opened in response to the slap, obviously the desired response to the slap as the figure began to chuckle. It was a discordant chuckle that sounded not like a chuckle; instead more like the sound sandpaper would on steel. Tahkshi stood up and looked at the figure, along with Viretta, who rubbed the back of her head, wincing. “Excuse me?” asked Viretta, extremely annoyed and much like a wannabe gangster, “but what was that for?”
“Viretta, hush.” Tahkshi deftly replied.
“No, Tahkshi, I will not hush. I don’t care if this guy is, say, the ferryman of the dead, I wanna know what his problem is.” Viretta turned to the figure, “who are you, anyway?”
The figure done that horrible discordant chuckle again before answering her, speaking slowly and quietly for someone of his stature, “I am Charon, the ferryman of the dead. Do you care now?”
Viretta gulped loudly. Tahkshi tried to resist smiling. “You are joking, right?” Viretta asked, eyebrows raised.
“No, Viretta. I am Charon, servant of Hades and now accomplice to Blue Cloud.” He cracked his knuckles through the armour. “Now, Tahkshi...give me those swords.” He held out his door sized hand, fingers inclined upwards. Tahkshi smiled and drew the Omega sword and went to place it in the hand, a look of forlorn defeat staining his battle-worn face. Charon grinned beneath his helmet. It seemed to happen in slow-motion; Tahkshi spun the blade around, the twin blades emerging from its bone-like case, before Tahkshi stabbed the blade straight through Charon’s hand. Or, at least into Charon’s hand. However, this plan went awry and the armour resisted even the Omega sword of death’s mighty power, merely splintering a layer or two. Charon chuckled again. “You can’t hurt me, boy. My armour is made of something impenetrable and almost indestructible.”
“What’s that, then?” asked Tahkshi, actually interested for a change.
“The souls of the dead.” Charon smiled, “No power can defeat them. They cannot die again, so the Alpha and Omega swords are useless. They are also in touch with nature, rending the Beta sword also useless. The Theta sword is the only thing in existence that could destroy the armour, and only a very powerful force could change the armour’s shape.”
“That...was a surprise,” came a wheezing, older thicker voice from behind Charon, “I thought it was made from fairy dust!”
“Naarl! You’re awake!” Viretta yelled, smiling. 
“Yes, young whippersnapper! Can your generation not see what is in front of their very eyes? My god, in my day, we didn’t ask shit like that!”
“Shit like that?” Charon asked incredulously.
“Also, we didn’t swear at our elders, Mr Charon! We showed respect!”
“I’m older than you, you foolish old man!”
“If you’re younger, why do you call me old? ‘Tis treachery!”
“Because you act like an old man! Where’d Tahkshi and Viretta go?” Charon finally noticed. 
A voice sounded from behind him, “they went away to find the Theta sword. You fell for our trap, Charon.” 
Naarl chuckled. Charon turned to see Pandora and Hurricane standing behind together, Pandora leaning on Hurricane. Charon cracked his skull-sized knuckles menacingly and advanced on the trio slowly, pace increasing with each and every mighty stride. “You bastards,” he muttered, “I’ll kill each and every one of you!” He walked over to the icky green container and pulled a lever on the side, which, for some reason made a little neon light came on above the main doors. The container made a loud clicking sound. Pandora, Hurricane and Naarl retreated backwards. “Now, face the true might of the realm of Hades. Face the Natas beast!” He grabbed the doors’ handles and tugged, pulling the doors off of their hinges and threw them at the trio. They scarpered, narrowly avoiding the reinforced steel doors which sped towards their faces. From within the container, things stirred. Things that were only visible due to their glowing red eyes. Things that were only discernable by the twisted snarls and growls that were each unique to the individual Natas. Footsteps sounded. Footsteps that sounded as though the feet making them were both flat and clawed, yet very heavy, suggesting a muscular, thick build. Rows of shiny white teeth caught the light of the stars around them, reflecting their dagger-like shapes into the retinas of the trio’s eyes. The rest of their bodies came into view now; a thick grey-ish hide with murky brown specks scattered across their spiny back. They sped out of the cage, their long lizard-like tails swinging behind them like chains in the wind, but the tails were as deadly as Prometheus’s chains, only poison tipped. Hurricane took one look at the horde, grabbed Pandora and Naarl and ran.
From where they were battling Typhon, Helios and Icarus could see the Natas horde storming across the surface. “Icarus,” Helios yelled over the sound of each and every one of the horde’s feet clashing with the ground, “you think you can take the Natas? Perhaps slow them?”
Icarus dodged a swipe of Typhon’s makeshift blade before answering, “I can sure try.” He then flapped his snow-white wings and flew down, leaving Helios with Typhon, who had suffered quite badly in this battle, but showed no signs of slowing even after his heart was torn out. Twice. His regeneration power was much faster than anything Helios had ever seen, regenerating a new heart in just under three seconds. After Typhon had done that, Helios decided to put a new plan into action, but Icarus was before in the way. Now, Helios could go all out. 
“Typhon,” said Helios, just loud enough for him to hear, “I know that I cannot beat you. I surrender.” Typhon’s huge features changed into what would be a smile on an ordinary person’s face, but on his it was a terrifying leer that would make grown adults wince, let alone make children cry.  Helios landed on the floor, hands on the ground, back arched and on his knees. Typhon, sensing the trap, was wary of the golden god, edging slowly closer and gingerly raising the sword. 
He fell for it!
Helios let rip a burst of sun-fire which spread in a circular motion, burning a circle around Typhon. The ground of which the circle was comprised became separate to the rest of the AGN. Helios braced himself, before using all of his godly strength to lift the segment. Typhon began to slip as Helios tipped the segment into the sun-fire layers of the AGN. Typhon spread his wings as he fell into the bubbling sun-fire, but Helios was upon him, using a combination of the AGN’s heat and his own strength to grab onto the wings and tear them from Typhon’s spine. After a great strain and effort to the both of them, Typhon’s wings came off, Typhon himself plunging into the sun-fire upon which he was seared and burned. Every single cell in his body exploded due to the heat save the dragon parts, which fell through the heat and were sucked into the supermassive black hole, completely annihilating the remains of the great Greek beast.  Helios smiled to himself and went back down to assist with the Natas horde, which had encountered Devilclash, Tao, Trexor and Emola now. The Natas were not intentionally harming anything, more accidentally trampling underfoot and carrying people away atop the horde. Trexor and Emola were carried off by the horde, desperately trying to grab hold of something.  
Tao and Devilclash tried to chase after, but one Natas swung around; the tail catching Tao straight in the stomach, the metallic point on the end tearing through his stomach. All he muttered was an almost silent “shit!” as he was thrown through the air into the horde. 
Devilclash panicked, charging through the horde, pushing the tough Natas out of the way until she finally reached Tao. She dragged him out and turned to Helios, who nodded and said, “Take him to the bastion. There are still some rooms intact there.” She smiled in thanks and carried Tao to safety, breaking into a desperate run.
 Helios and Icarus looked around at the Natas and fired a few bursts of sun-fire at them, but they did not stop. They did not burn or even slow. They just carried on charging, not noticing the twosome. Charon appeared behind the Natas, obviously smiling beneath the helmet as he said gruffly, “The Natas are indestructible, Helios. Have fun.” He made a strange hand signal to the Natas, “Natas. Kill Helios and Icarus.” The Natas turned on the gods, growling. The gods hovered above the horde, which jumped up, clawing at their feet. “Natas, induce gravity enforcers.” The Natas swarm glowed, and the gods dropped to the ground. “You’re dealing with the perfect cyborgs, guys. Have fun.” Charon turned away, and followed Pandora, Naarl and Hurricane. 
Pandora, Naarl and Hurricane had paused for breath when they heard the loud footfalls of Charon approaching. “Naarl,” ordered Pandora, “go help Tahkshi and Viretta. They’ll need it.” Naarl nodded and turned tearfully away; this could well be the last time they ever see each other. He hobbled away, never looking back for fear of regret. Charon’s heavy breathing was getting louder; closer. Hurricane and Pandora braced themselves...
*
Trexor and Emola were dropped by the Natas after travelling to an area surrounded by snake-like creatures. Snake like bodies, with human arms and a human head, all covered in green scales. The head was beauty incarnate, if it were not reptilian and had hair rather than lime-green serpents, which hissed and spat at the two. “The shit are these things?” asked Emola.
“Gorgons. Don’t look into their eyes, or they’ll turn you to stone. Luckily, they’re staying back.” Trexor answered gravely, before he became more cynical, “wonder why.”
A larger Gorgon was slithering towards them, infinitely more beautiful than the others, looking much like a fallen goddess who was cursed out of spite by a worse looking goddess, being cursed to be a Gorgon and to turn people to stone and being named Medusa. Good thing she did look like that, as her name was Medusa and that brief explanation was how she came to be. She slithered towards the pair. Emola drew his shotgun and aimed at her. “Emola, don’t!” yelled Trexor desperately as Emola took aim, looking Medusa straight in the eye. His skin greyed, his motion slowed as his eyes widened. Trexor lunged at Medusa, running her though with his katana. She died instantly, but died with a knowing smile. Trexor looked back at Emola. He was nothing more than a statue now, but Trexor did not cry for his fallen comrade: he had witnessed too many deaths now, but this one was one he could have prevented. He wished that he could cry now, just to release the pain that was welling up inside. He just wanted to scream, to break down or just somehow go back in time. He froze as the Gorgons surrounded him...
*
Incarnate and Tors looked out at the Minotaur tanks which, as it turned out, did not fire women at opposition, but instead contained a mechanism to cut the woman’s leg, causing her to scream. This doesn’t sound serious, but the women were actually Sirens, which possessed a deadly sonic scream. Of course, the tanks were now floating in the air above the Minotaur army thanks to Incarnate’s gravity power. They were still blasting the mountain with sonic blasts, until Incarnate dropped the tanks on the Minotaur army. Unfortunately, one sonic blast hit the mountain, causing a chunk of the summit to collapse. Namely, the part where Tors was standing. He fell until Incarnate grasped his hand. “No, Tors!” gasped Incarnate.
“Incarnate,” said Tors shakily, “if I die, give them hell.”
“No. You can’t die,” Incarnate wept, “you were my first true non-work friend, Tors. I can’t lose you.”
“I’m sorry Incarnate.” Tors said, before pushing a pressure point on Incarnate’s wrist, causing him to lose his grip, “Take care buddy. I’ve had a good life, anyhow. Enjoy yours.” He plummeted down the edge of the mountain, breaking bones on the jagged rocks on the way. Incarnate turned to the sounds of laughter.
Minos was behind him.
And he had a big-ass axe.
Tors groaned at the bottom of Mount-unnamed. He was alive, which was a shock in itself. He rubbed rock fragments from his eyes before noticing the two in front of him. “Oh it’s you.” The silhouette shot him square in the face.
*
Naarl finally caught up with Tahkshi and Viretta. They were in a large clearing, which would be great for an ambush. Not a hambush, though because they’re huge. In fact, that’s how pigs are born on the planet Scarvia. Speaking of ambush...
A suspicious looking mound at the side of the clearing grew upwards until the form of Cronus was revealed. Master Eye and Silent Creeper appeared from behind him, but stayed back, as did Cronus. “Well?” yelled Tahkshi. “This is one crap ambush, Cloud.”
Incision and Trebular walked into the clearing. “Hey, guys!” yelled Viretta happily. 
“Get back,” Naarl ordered, noticing the odd look in Incision’s eyes. Devilclash too arrived in the clearing; she had just dropped Tao off in a safe room at the bastion. She stopped with Naarl and pulled Viretta back; even Trebular looked angered. Incision ran at Tahkshi, who gave him the benefit of the doubt until a gun was rammed into his chin. Again.
  “Yes,” hissed Trebular, “kill him. The one who killed your brother does not deserve to live. He’s a traitor to the galaxy and perhaps creation itself.”
Tahkshi glanced down at the barrel pressing against his chin nervously then replied, “Traitor, Trebular?” he gave a short harsh laugh, “if it was I who was the traitor, then why did I instruct you to find out who it was?”
“You tried to frame Paine!” yelled Trebular indignantly, “was that your goal all along? Instigating a war between Earth and the rest of the galaxy, were you trying to establish your military power? Drag Earth into a reign of tyranny? Then come here and decimate the Andromeda galaxy’s populace? Is that the true reason we came to this planet?”
“Planet?” Tahkshi asked, “This is an AGN, fool. An Active Galactic Nucleus, terraformed by Helios after his banishment from Olympus.”
Trebular shook his head, “here you go again with the godly mumbo-jumbo,” he chuckled, “you can’t get out of this Tahkshi. Nor can you two.” He nodded at Viretta and Naarl, who were holding their hands up and looking at Incision’s other hand, which was holding a second gun, this one a double barrelled pistol of sorts, matt black with a few scratches down the sides.
“Shut up! The pair of you,” Incision paused to draw a deep breath, “just shut up. Please just shut up.” His eyeball began to twitch and he shivered slightly, “you killed my brother.”
Tahkshi cast his gaze downwards, “he killed himself trying to kill me, so I guess I was responsible.”
Incision smashed the pistol across Tahkshi’s face, sending him to the ground, chin bleeding. “No, Tahkshi,” he said quietly, “I know everything now. You and Tors killed him. We killed Tors. Now we’ll kill you.”
“Tors had nothing to do with it!” yelled Tahkshi, “he was your best friend, and you killed him for something I done! I will never be able to forget that moment thanks to the guilt I felt. Why do you think I tried my hardest to make it up to Earth? Or you guys from Department H? It was a tragic accident, and that is all. I know I deserve to die. But I can give the universe so much more. If you kill me today, if you kill me now, then the universe could be lost. The true traitor will have nothing between them and the four swords! Do you not understand? Although,” he paused for thought, “it seems Trebular knows what I mean.”
“What does he mean?” Incision rounded on Trebular.
“I mean that Trebular is the traitor!” yelled Tahkshi desperately, “he killed Paine and is using you to kill all of the Enforcers and Department H!”
“Where is your proof?” hissed Trebular.
“Paine’s dying breath.”
Tahkshi bent down to Paine’s blood stained lips. He could hear Paine’s breath, wheezing more than normal. He coughed, sending more blood pouring down his chin. Paine opened his mouth and whispered one word, before his eyes rolled back into his head and, with a final rattling breath, Paine slumped forwards. His skin lost colour as blood drained away, turning him as white as a sheet. His skin grew cold as Tahkshi rose and walked away, in his anger wishing one other dead. One whose name was whispered to him by Paine. 
“Trebular.”
Incision’s aim wavered as he turned speechlessly to Trebular who scowled, defeated. His arm lit up with a vivid blue and he slapped Incision away whilst cursing, “move out o’ the way, you weak twat.” He aimed at Tahkshi.
“Hm,” Tahkshi chuckled, “knew there was something familiar about you, Trebular. Or can I call you Blue Cloud?”
Trebular tutted. “Took you long enough,” he said, smirking. He moved his hand down his body, changing his green jacket into thin black armour, which covered his body apart from his face, neck, hands and feet. His feet were covered by sandals. Tahkshi was tempted to slap him just for wearing them into combat, but then noticed the Theta sword’s sheath and decided to slap him after he had the Theta sword. Blue Cloud spread his arms wide and the bright sea-blue cloud burst out once more from his pores, radiating heat and a look of immense cool. Incision got up and took a shot at Blue Cloud, who dodged just in time. 
“You have shattered everything!” Incision yelled. 
“Shut up.” Blue Cloud said casually, before drawing the Theta sword and stabbing Incision through the chest. Incision’s look of horrified surprise would stain Tahkshi’s memory for the rest of his living moments. “Both brothers are dead now. Haha. You should be proud, Tahkshi. If they had never met you, they might still be alive. So might Tors. Or any of the others my generals have killed.”
Tahkshi sniffed loudly as tears splashed on the ground. Viretta and Naarl hurried towards him, but Naarl was halted by the arrival of Silent Creeper and Master Eye. Viretta made it to Tahkshi, but was swept aside by Blue Cloud. She hit the ground with force, smashing her head on the hard terrain.
“Maybe I’ll take away what you love, Tahkshi.” Blue Cloud hissed as he walked over to Viretta, turning his back on Tahkshi. 
Big mistake.
Tahkshi rose, quickly drawing the Omega sword and struck at Blue Cloud’s head. Blue Cloud ducked just as he heard a vague hissing of the air and turned on Tahkshi, not anticipating the other end of the blade to come around and slice his hands clean off; allowing the Theta sword to clatter to the ground. 
“Devilclash,” Tahkshi yelled, “get Viretta out of here!”
Devilclash moved away from the towering Chronos and ran to Viretta’s side, checking her pulse. Tahkshi picked up the Theta sword carefully, not willing to believe that this nightmare could finally be over. This can’t be it, surely, Tahkshi thought, always the sceptic; he went down way too easy. But, despite his fully justified misgivings, he put the Theta sword on the ground, along with the Alpha and Omega swords. Then, the Beta sword changed from its armour form to the dual-serpent sword and lay on the floor beside them.
A change came over the swords; they glowed with a bright light, basking them in a golden hue. The jagged edges of the Alpha and Theta sword joined up like a crude jigsaw puzzle, forming one huge full blade. The Omega folded itself around the Alpha/Theta blade, making the edges sharper and serrated and finally, the Beta sword attached itself as the hilt. The four swords then turned completely golden; a fitting colour for the blade of the gods. 
The Blade of Olympus.
Tahkshi lifted it and held it double-handed, pointing the tip at Blue Cloud’s face. His hands had grown back now, but Tahkshi knew he was beaten. So, why was Blue Cloud smiling? 
“Hades won’t be returning now, Cloud,” Tahkshi stated, grinning jubilantly at his opponent, “you lose.” 
Blue Cloud sniggered and drew something seashell-like from a pocket in his armour. The Cornopticus. 
“Why do you have that?” Tahkshi demanded, “it’s not gonna help you now.”
A malicious glint crossed across Blue Cloud’s eye. “Really?” he asked mockingly. Then, he made his move. He pointed at Tahkshi and sent a pulse of energy at him, knocking him down as if in slow motion, or falling through treacle. Tahkshi dropped the Blade of Olympus, which Blue Cloud subsequently picked up and held in one hand, the Cornopticus in the other. A reaction seemed to occur between the two, causing the Cornopticus’s top to revolve and open. The contents glowed, causing Tahkshi to avert his eyes.
*
Meanwhile, the gods of Olympus, the Olympians, were watching the events in their equivalent of a TV: the Golden Altar. The Golden Altar was filled with the blood of Zeus, which he had unknowingly donated. Hephaestus had one day been ordered to make an altar that could see anywhere in the universe. He researched for months on end, but found only one solution: the blood of the king god, Zeus, as he was the most omnipotent. It was a hard job getting them and doing so involved mead, drugs and a very pointy needle.
The Olympians could only watch in horror as the Cornopticus opened. And as it opened, the god’s souls detached from their bodies and flew at a speed greater than light into the Cornopticus, leaving the gods’ bodies mere stone husks.
And all the while, Blue Cloud smirked.










































Chapter 12: The Power Of The Cornopticus
Blue Cloud plunged the Blade of Olympus into the Cornopticus, causing it to distribute its energy to the blade. Red tendrils of raw godly power ran down the blade’s hilt until they met Blue Cloud’s hand, causing him to spasm as what felt like a million needles injected raw pain rather than power into his blood. His back arched and cracked while his arms hung loosely downwards. Sweat poured down his face as he rose from the floor; levitating a metre above ground. Lightning burst from his fingertips, a dazzling light show that sizzled the ground beneath him. As his eyes rolled back into his skull, the cloud of energy surrounding him changed from a murky sea blue, to a dark blood red. Then, he dropped to his feet and his eyes snapped open abruptly. All seemed normal with the exception of the red cloud, but when he spoke, it was not with the voice of Blue Cloud, but with an amalgamation of assorted voices, all congregated into one perfect spoken symphony. It said, “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” 
Tahkshi, who had been watching with stunned wide eyes and hoping that the bid for power would kill Blue Cloud, thought that it had been quite hard indeed, though he didn’t admit it because of the status quo. Instead, he asked, “What is this really about, Cloud? Obviously you never wanted Hades to be free, as you now wield the Blade of Olympus. You have condemned him. Your own father.”
“I know,” came the brief snap of a response, “and call me Red Cloud. In fact, no, call me God.”
“Well, Red Cloud,” Tahkshi decided to say Red Cloud instead of God to avoid a foregone conclusion, “why don’t you fill me in on your plan? Isn’t that what the power crazed fool normally does?”
Red Cloud rubbed his hands in anticipation, “ooh, I was waiting for you to ask. It started when the Cornopticus was formed. The guy who made it for me, he said that it would work when used alongside a weapon worthy of the gods. Hades took his blade, infused it with godly power and believed the Cornopticus would open. In the ensuing battle, he shattered the Blade of Olympus just as he was being locked in the Hades’ Gate. The four swords were not scattered by Hades, but by Zeus. He suspected that if the Cornopticus and the Blade of Olympus were held by one, then the Cornopticus would open and kill them all. Then, I came in, as did Prototype. He convinced me to gather the four swords and the First Children, plucking them through time, space and void. I went back in time using the ring of Cronus and moved all you First Children to this time and space, and then I found the Theta Sword. Alucard summoned me through back to the present, in which Prototype had done his own manipulating, getting all you Enforcers together. Prototype ordered one of his non-void accomplices to steal the Cornopticus for him and destroy the Musun. At that time, I was helping Insectiron create the ship that would allow him and the others, particularly Hurricane to leave the planet and head for Earth. I also planted the Lost Legend for Insectiron to find and pass to you, although it was a legend that I myself had created. When I met Cronus before I challenged you on Atlantis, I asked him to go back in time once more and ‘speak’ to Naarl through the voice of time, telling him false details like “Hades is coming” and “you must gather the swords” or whatever it was he said. Then, it was simplicity to chase you into my awaiting claws. You gathered the swords at the right time and exactly the right place. Now, I have the power of all of the Gods apart from three: Hades, Icarus and Helios. The reasoning for that is that Hades had cast Helios out to this sun years before when he got a whiff of Hades plan. Hades also wasn’t stupid enough to put his own DNA into it. Icarus wasn’t a god when Hades had the Cornopticus, but was only made a god to guard the Omega Sword. Yup, stop looking so flabbergasted, I fooled you all. And now, I shall take my throne of a new monotheist order!”
Tahkshi yawned.
It was not a tired yawn, as you probably expected. It was also not a yawn of true boredom yawn, as Tahkshi was constantly alert, and thus never bored. It was more a sarcastic yawn, a sarcastic yawn which could send the one you were yawning at into a murderous rampage, if said one was quite unhinged. The aforementioned Red Cloud was, luckily, not quite unhinged.
He was a complete raving loony, who had now been sent into a genocidal rampage by the sarcastic yawn.  Sweat poured down his face in thick strands, giving the impression of clear tentacles creeping along his face, feeding on his anger and his need for revenge. And in this need for revenge, he hefted the blade of Olympus with only one hand over his head and smashed it down on Tahkshi, who dropped and rolled to one side, shielding his eyes from the rocky shrapnel created by the ferocious impact. Red Cloud’s head lifted to glare at Tahkshi. “How dare you, a mere mortal, disrespect the soon-to-be reformed Church Of Cloud?” yelled the amalgamated voice, accompanied by a look of pure disgust. Raising his hand, he summoned a lightning bolt into the fist and hurled it javelin-like at Tahkshi. He ducked and thrust his hand to catch it, but got a black burn on his hand for his trouble as it sped through his fist, searing it on the way through. Wincing, he ran and hid behind a Cyclops’ carcass. Panting heavily, he curled into a ball, drawing his knees close to his chest and listened to the rocks cracking under Red Cloud’s feet, getting louder and louder as Tahkshi’s death moved ever closer. 
“Oh, infidel,” crooned Red Cloud, “do you not know that a god is omniscient? I know where you are.” Tahkshi noticed the amount of syllables: twenty one, seven times three. Three beats, they mean death. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the paranoia and rose from his hiding spot, drawing his twin pistols. They could not hurt Red Cloud, but they may distract him so that another may be able to kill him.
“Well, Cloud,” Tahkshi walked towards the subject as he spoke, “this is how it ends.” Good he thought eight syllables. No threes. Threes are death. 
Red Cloud paused thoughtfully and contemplated this seriously. “Yes. Yes! I suppose it is, is it not? And I shall defeat you at last.” 
Fifteen syllables? Five by three! Five times death. However Tahkshi’s face was one of false calm, hiding the uneasy emotional whirlwind behind it. He smiled innocently and said, “That was very close to emotional. Shall I wipe my tears away?”
Red Cloud laughed sarcastically and darted a scathing look at Tahkshi. “How dare you heretic? Now, be smote!” Three threes Tahkshi noted as Red Cloud rose gracefully into the air. Three flaming meteors appeared in the space above him. “I notice things, Tahkshi. Like how you flinch at the number three. Paranoia getting to you, eh?” Tahkshi flinched at the mention of three, and then noticed the twenty four syllables (eight times three). With a flick of Red Cloud’s wrists, the meteors plummeted to the surface of the AGN. Tahkshi stood stock still as the fiery death plunged down upon him...
*
Trexor swung the massive blade at the pitiful remnants of the late Medusa’s army. The snake-like Gorgons slithered under the blade, over the blade but never through the blade as that were technically impossible to emerge alive on the other side. A particularly fast one snuck behind him and swiped its vicious claws at his sword hand. Trexor winced and dropped the blade as deep gashes appeared on his wrist. He dived for the blade, but the gathering Gorgons kicked it aside lazily, surrounding him in a tight pack, hissing softly at Trexor, who smirked, barely noticeable in the shadows. Carefully and slowly, he removed his dark red armour, which clanged loudly on the rocky ground. When the last piece fell to the floor in slow motion, Trexor was left as a shadow of his former self (ha-ha!) which was shifting.  His arms engorged until they became as thick as tree trunks whilst fingers grew into gnarled points. Another pair of these arms sprouted from his chest where his ribs once were and planted themselves into the ground, hoisting the shadow off of the ground, legs in the air. His legs changed and became cylindrical and hollow; some sort of cannons. Another pair of newly grown arms planted themselves to support the probably non-existent weight of the shadow, which was now spouting more pairs of arms, which curled into jagged claws. His head morphed into an elongated turtle head albeit made of darkness bar the eyes; deep red eyes that were not eyes, but slits burned deep into the sides of his face, which he turned on the gorgons and growled softly. The Gorgons slithered back instinctively; they sensed trouble. Then they regained their confidence and advanced.
Biggest mistake ever.
The shadow cannons glowed with an alien light, followed by streams of what appeared to be solid light, catching the Gorgons and setting the more unlucky ones on fire which seared their scaly serpentine figures until they burnt and crumbled after blackening. The surviving Gorgons, which in retrospect was most of them, turned on him and screeched. Unperturbed, Trexor roared massively, egging the Gorgons on to advance on him, which they very much obliged to do. They came, slaloming quickly between the streams of light until they were ready to attack or pounce. However, Trexor was also ready and the Gorgons were swept up by his colossal claws, lowered to the mouth where Trexor held them in a vice-like grip around the chest, then pulled away, tearing both spine and skull from their blood seeping bodies. Spikes jolted out of his sides and launched themselves at the nearby Gorgons like an exploding hedgehog, impaling them through both of the Gorgon’s hearts, sending them flying through the now-absent ribcage.
Pandemonium reigned.
Gorgons fell to the ground on fire, writhing until death took its clammy hold. Or, if they were not burning, they were headless, spineless corpses or absent of other quite important body parts. And then, for this part of the AGN, silence. Trexor slowly uprooted himself and shifted back into his usual humanoid form and put his armour back on. Then he looked around to see just who was calling his name.
*
Bang was the sound that was repeated again and again as thousands of thunderclaps from the Minotaurs’ feet, pounding the ground rhythmically as they marched slowly up the mountain, where Incarnate stood on the peak in some sort of confident terror. He had no weapons, no sort of physical strength and couldn’t concentrate enough to use gravity with King Minos swinging his axe at him.
With barely a metre square to manoeuvre away from the two metre long axe, Incarnate ducked and jumped under and over the repetitive swings until it became second nature. This was made difficult by Minos’s irregular grunting which really interrupted Incarnate’s concentration. Instead, he used his vivid teenage imagination to change the rotting form of Minos into a certain lady he found whilst trawling on the net wearing only lingerie. That’s the woman in the lingerie, not Incarnate. Whilst cutting the menacing figure from his vision, he finally managed to focus on not just the jiggly-ness in front, but also on gravity. As he ducked under the axe, he clapped his hands together, sending Holly, sorry, Minos into the air, then slamming him down the mountain slope on to the oncoming Minotaurs, knocking rows of them down the rocky slopes until they were impaled on the harsh rock. But still they continued their march up the mountain whilst at the bottom, Minos still roared...
*
As the fiery death screamed towards him, Tahkshi drew his twin pistols and pumped the entire ammo clip into the three meteors, which cracked and shattered. Tahkshi walked forwards towards Red Cloud as shards of burning meteorite crashed down behind him. Bang. Bang. Bang, they came.
Three.
Tahkshi stepped forward until he stood eye to eye with Red Cloud, who was half glaring, half smiling. “Well,” Red Cloud proclaimed, “I see you avoided my meteors. Shame.”
“Oh? And why is that then?”  asked Tahkshi with wide blue puppy eyes and bottom lip sticking; the epitome of angelic innocence which, of course, meant that he was being far from innocent and quite guilty indeed.
Indeed.
Red Cloud swung the Blade of Olympus lazily at Tahkshi, who executed a perfect back flip out of the blade’s path. Cloud advanced and slashing with the blade once more, causing Tahkshi to lean back away from it, but the blade still took the skin off his nose. Much preferable to taking the head off his body, but it still hurt like shit. Tahkshi looked around and saw Viretta’s unconscious body being carried to the ship by Devilclash. Something welled deep inside of him, basking Viretta’s body in a veil of golden light, enlightening her. Was this...love?
I don’t want to die.
“Trexor,” he yelled while dodging a lightning burst, “chuck us a blade!” Trexor unsheathed the light blade and threw it to Tahkshi with an Olympic-style hammer toss. Tahkshi easily caught the spinning blade and turned just in time to block Red Cloud’s blow. Barely. Trexor said this thing could rival the Blade of Olympus he thought just how much power did the Cornopticus give him? Tahkshi decided not to mock Red Cloud from now. Much. Although, this vow was soon broken. When Red Cloud swung again, Tahkshi made a vine shoot out of the ground, which whacked Red Cloud right under the chin, sending him soaring through the air, leaving nothing behind but a high pitched scream so high pitched, it would attract all sorts of bats and send them into some sort of frenzy. Tahkshi couldn’t be bothered to stifle his laughter; it had been far too long since he last laughed. 
“For that,” came a distant yell, “I will break your bones and feed them to the Natas beasts! Or perhaps I shall clone you, and I will enjoy killing you again and again. Heaven.”
Tahkshi snorted and yelled back, matter of factly, “Yeah? Well, I’ve been dead before!”
Fwip.
Pain in the arm. Blood. Sharp. Tahkshi looked down to see a small grey throwing knife sticking out of his upper arm. He span on the spot exactly one eighty degrees and, there, he saw a grey flash dart across his red tinted field of vision. Eyes widening in abrupt terror, he looked from left to right, using his peripherals until spotted something dark and grey shoot in, then back out of his vision. As he turned, he began to wonder who or what this truly was, whether this person was real, or some sort of delusional paranoia and the foe was actually right in front of him all along. This train of paranoia-driven thought was viciously interrupted by an arm which snaked itself around Tahkshi’s neck and yanked him backwards. As he struggled for even a small gasp of air, he felt a sharp object held against his back. 
“Just give me a reason,” came the small hiss of the voice that Tahkshi instantly recognised as the Blind Assassin’s, whom Tahkshi realised would show no mercy.
So, I won’t either.
Tahkshi closed his eyes and concentrated deeply. He felt nature, only weak, but there nonetheless, and let her rise up inside him, then projected the small spark he had left at the ground. A deep rumbling resonated through the AGN’s rocky outer shell. Rocks shook and dislodged themselves from the ground, rolling along until they were in various sized heaps. “What the hell?” exclaimed the Blind Assassin as he began to lose his footing slightly. As his feet slipped, as did his grip on Tahkshi’s throat, enabling him to wriggle out and face the assassin.
“Rise, my golems,” he whispered whilst slowly raising his arms.
And with his arms, rose the Golems.
Resembling vaguely humanoid piles of rock, the Golems slightly resembled Devilclash, but slightly cruder and without the fire inside. They were neither dead nor alive, more emotionless constructs that could do your bidding. Dark, empty eye sockets locked on to the Blind Assassin and marked him as “primary target”. The seven Golems marched slowly towards him, who was contemplating the deep doodoo he had landed himself in now. 
“Secondary target.”
Red Cloud shot up into the air, aflame with disgruntled rage. The assassin gazed up at the awesome spectacle and received a Golem’s fist in the face as a reward, sending him on an express trip to the grand destination of unconsciousness.
“’Bout time you got back,” said Tahkshi, defying all fear quite like Paine defied diets. Too soon? “I was getting lonely.”
“You see what I mean Tahkshi?” asked Red Cloud, oblivious to sarcasm, “you can’t live without me. Hence, you cannot kill me or even bring yourself to strike me down.”
“I was joking, you jackass.”
“Shut it!” spat Red Cloud, “It’s about time I went god smite mode on yo ass!”
“That’s not very god-like language, now, is it?” patronised Tahkshi.
“You still insult me even when you face certain death? You’re more foolish than I thought,” said Red Cloud calmly as he descended from the sky. Tipped toes brushed the ground, followed by a small clatter from the soles of his sandals.
Sandals with socks? Tahkshi thought perilously he is evil.
As if he had heard Tahkshi’s thoughts, Red Cloud swung the Blade of Olympus at the Golems, which were now moving towards “secondary target”. They shattered like cheap pottery beneath a jackhammer, but Red Cloud did not stop there, slashing towards Tahkshi’s chest. Tahkshi hefted the light blade  and pirouetted with the light blade over his head, swinging with all available force into Red Cloud, who lazily blocked the blow with the Blade of Olympus, sending Tahkshi stumbling backwards; it may as well have been a child attacking a brick wall with nothing but a twig: completely useless. And when the brick wall comes at you with a giant god-blade, there is only one sensible thing to do: run. So that is what Tahkshi did. He sprinted away, Red Cloud directly on his heels which were sometimes catching the tendrils of lightning behind. One grabbed his left foot, causing a terrible coldness to permeate his body. His very life essence was draining away and there was no escape...
*
Foton looked down from the grotesque Cyclops’ head, still holding one slimy eyelid up as some sort of pulse resonated through the air...
*
Charon dropped Hurricane in sheer surprise as something in the far distance lit up blindingly...
*
From the desolate peaks, Incarnate could only watch Tahkshi go down. He cried out in anger, sending a pulse of gravity down the mountain, dislodging Minotaurs.
*
Ignoring the rampaging Natas army, Helios and Icarus turned to the strange pulsating light, a light that was more beautiful than any god could imagine or comprehend.
*
Devilclash nearly dropped Viretta when Tao awoke and yelled about a pulse and some sort of light. She then lay Viretta down on a bed and looked at the light, too.
*
Trexor smiled broadly.
*
What? Master? What’s that? I’ve met my master? No life signs? Crap. I finally meet him, and he’s dying. Well, we’ll see about that then, shan’t we?
And thus, the light blade released a pulse of what appeared to be light, but was actually an activation message from the dawn of time itself that was keyed to an unidentified gene in the First Children’s DNA.
“Rise, First Children, Rise!”
With those words, the pulse spread out across the universe, activating all ten of the First Children’s true potential.
Foton slipped off of the Cyclops, writhing uncomfortably on the ground as his skin began to ripple and sparkle. Hurricane’s veins throbbed visibly through his skin in rhythm to Pandora’s pulsating temples. Charon walked over, a smirk hidden behind the helmet...  
“You learn something new every day” was one of Tao’s many mottos and today, he was learning that skin changing into metal was extremely painful. Devilclash was learning that even her fires could feel pain...
Trexor was not surprised to find that he was glowing. He looked over at Tahkshi who had pulled the throwing knife out of a newly healed arm. Red Cloud, in all his blind joy, hadn’t even noticed Tahkshi was alive yet. 
A voice resonated in all of the First Children’s minds, a deep commanding voice. 
“Rise, Foton, god of space.”
 Foton decided to rise as instructed, his ebony skin now rippling and sparkling. His eyes now glowed blue and beamed out of his helmet.
“Rise, Hurricane, god of weather.”
“Aw, sweet,” said Hurricane, noticing no physical change to his (in his opinion) perfect features, just feeling more powerful inside.
“Rise, Pandora, goddess of the mind.”
She listened to what before was vague static, but what was now tangible as other people’s thoughts. She decided to turn her probe off for now, lest she hear or see the private thoughts of others that she really did not want to know.
 “Rise, Incarnate, god of gravity.”
“Cheers,” said Incarnate levelly.
“Rise, Tao, God of the artificial.”
Tao looked at his robotic arm and surmised “huh. So that’s what that’s for.”
“Rise, Devilclash, goddess of fire.”
“Well, that’s a surprise,” said Devilclash with more than a hint of sarcasm, “after all, it’s not as if there were any signs at all.”
“Rise, Trexor, god of light.”
“I know, I know,” said Trexor irritably.
“Rise, Cinradahs, god of death.”
“Who?” asked Trexor.
“Rise, Xaos, god of destruction.”
Blank faces. Then, finally:
“Rise, Tahkshi, god of nature.”
“Ha!” roared Tahkshi, whose hair was now pure red flame. 
The First Children had risen.
*
“Morpheus!” roared Foton as he ran through the Cyclopses, empowered with untold energies. “God of space, eh?” he muttered to himself, “this is sure gonna be interesting.”  Morpheus’s shrouded form came into view. Morpheus saw Foton, raised the nightmare scythe and swung it at the air in front of him, in theory sending a wave of pure undiluted fear at Foton, plunging him once more into his worst nightmares...
These things don’t really work out, do they?
In reality, Foton clicked his fingers and followed that by drawing a circle in the air with his two index fingers, dark lines trailed behind his fingers, showing the space in which he had drawn. The circle then rippled and darkened and became a black hole of sorts; it’s rich centre of gravity not only swallowing and crushing the wave of fear, but dark claws reached out to grab the nightmare scythe itself, yanking it out of Morpheus’s fragile grip and into the never ending void. Foton then wiped the black hole from existence with a brief wave of a hand. He strode over to the cowering god of dreams. “I,” enunciated Foton whilst punching Morpheus in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground, “the god,” he delivered a powerful kick to Morpheus’s bony side “the god” he grabbed Morpheus’s neck and lifted him so that they were eye to eye. Without the nightmare scythe, Morpheus was no more than a malevolent child, albeit a tall one “of space, and you” he grabbed Morpheus’s legs and held him lengthways, then brought his knees up and through Morpheus’s spine with a spine-chilling crack and a generous splattering of blood “are dust,” Foton finished, dropping the two halves of Morpheus on the coincidentally dusty ground.
Now, for the Cyclopses.
*
“Hurricane, help Tahkshi! I can handle myself against this pig.” Pandora yelled, desperately trying to defy Charon’s sexist opinions of her. “The pig” in question was advancing on them as fast as his huge armour would let him: very slowly.
“Are you sure?” asked Hurricane, eyeing Charon.
“Yes, I’m sure. You can’t hurt him, look at all that flaming armour!” was the resultant screech.
“F-fine.” He was reluctant about leaving her but she was right; only her telepathy could have even a chance of penetrating that armour. To Charon, Hurricane wouldn’t even be a distraction.” Good luck!” was his feeble parting yell before he raced away in the direction of Tahkshi as fast as a Cerberus would flee from a giant cosmic hoover. Charon sensed an advantage and ran at Pandora, armour creaking at the joints as it moved faster than any would believe it possible to do so, ground cracking beneath his feet leaving craters where his feet landed and he paused about a metre away from Pandora, who was thrown over by the shockwaves from his footfalls. Hurricane looked back, done an amusing double take  tripped over and fell on his face, then got up, rubbed his nose to relieve pain in a child-like belief, then turned and ran back the way he came. He nearly made it to Pandora before she was lifted off of the ground and thrown perhaps half a mile away from Hurricane. Of course, nearly never wins the race and Pandora ended up half a mile back the way he had just ran from. Panting wildly and heart aching, he tried to run back to Pandora, but fell to the floor gasping for air. He heard a quiet whispering behind him and started listening to Charon just in time to hear the word “Ypokosmos.”
“Eh,” asked Hurricane weakly, “wassat mean?”
“Underworld.” 
And with that grating reply, the ground beneath Pandora gave way, plunging tonnes of rock into the layers of sun-fire below. Pandora fell with the rocks, helpless against the force of gravity, screaming all the way. A strangled cry of “No!” escaped from Hurricane’s throat as tears of fury and sorrow welled up and leaked out, breaking free in his sadness. An emptiness began to form until...
There were fingertips at the side of the crater.
In a burst of adrenaline, Hurricane managed to sprint to Pandora and looked into the hole. Pandora was clinging to the very edge of the hole with only the one hand, which was bruised and cut from the jagged terrain. Her legs trailed behind her like a windsock, helpless against the AGN’s supermassive black hole core, which threatened to pull her in. 
“Hurricane,” she gasped as he grabbed her hand.
“What?”
She paused, opened her mouth, then closed it again and finally opened it again to say, “Y’know, whatever happens today, I will always be with you.”
Hurricane’s tears ran unchecked now as he struggled with gravity to bring her back to the surface, “and I for you.”
Bang.
Hurricane looked behind and up at the towering form of Charon. Charon was clapping with much a metal clanging, “well, isn’t that sweet?” he commented with more than a hint of sarcastic malice in his voice. Fires from the next sun-fire layer leapt up and licked at Pandora’s ankles, which she drew up to avoid burns or vaporisation. Hurricane pulled and pulled more and more as Charon drew ever closer. Hurricane’s tears still ran as he knew that his efforts were futile. The only one who could help them now was bringing the house down on Minotaurs.
Literally.
*
Incarnate stared blankly at the approaching Minotaurs. Are they stupid or something? He thought incredulously I am a flaming god, although not as much of a flaming god as Devilclash ha-ha anyway, they still come at me? I dump tonnes of this mountain, or ex-mountain, on them and still the remnants of their “once-mighty army” still approach. Do they want to die again? Minos and two of the larger surviving Minotaurs were clambering over heaps of ex-mountain to Incarnate. “C’mon if you think you’re hard enough!” he taunted, but even as he did so, he felt an odd presence by his side. He turned, nerves frazzled by the week’s events, fist outstretched until it was grabbed by a dark figure. Trexor “What the hell, man?” Incarnate yelled indignantly, removing his fist from the vice like grip “don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Go to Hurricane and Pandora. I’ll deal with these bastards.” Trexor’s instruction could’ve sounded like that of a wise old man if it weren’t for the “bastards” remark.
“But...”
“Go!” Trexor roared. Thus, Incarnate, or as Trexor knew him, “the kid”, left clumsily, tripping and swearing a few times. Trexor chuckled and turned back to Minos and unsheathed the night blade and pointed it at Minos. “Let’s go, boys,” said Trexor, as if he was trying to seduce Minos, who was not at all happy with this new opponent. He had watched this guy decimate the entire gorgon army when he was still mortal; what was he capable of now? Minos ignored his misgivings and charged at Trexor, Minotaur bodyguards trailing behind. Trexor shook his head and smirked at them before slashing down with his empty hand, causing a flash of light equivalent to a flashbang grenade, blinding Minos and his Minotaurs. Red spots flashed before his eyes and when they faded, the Minotaurs were gone, and so was Trexor. Minos panicked and tried to run, but a wall of blinding light appeared out of nowhere, knocking him back again. He stared around the area, up, down, left and right until, finally, he snapped.
“Where are you?” he roared.
With a brief rustling and a snap, the night blade flew through the air and embedded itself in Minos’s skull. He fell to the ground, where, from behind, Trexor hissed, “here.”
*
Incarnate saw Charon and immediately thought, quite wisely, whoa, huge... However, he also thought an interesting thought. He thought that Charon was just a small guy in a big suit. Then he thought “that’s what she said”. Then he was confused to how that would work at all. Finally, he formulated a plan.  “Hurry up!” yelled Pandora from within the hole that only Incarnate could rescue her from. He thought that she might be a bit better mannered towards him now, but, alas, he was wrong. Charon looked around and saw Incarnate hovering half a metre off the ground, two translucent orbs surrounding his clenched fists. As Charon moved slowly closer, Incarnate placed his hands together as if in prayer, then swept them back. 
Crunch.
 Charon’s armour buckled and cracked with harsh crunching sounds. Then, Charon yelled in pain as the armour began to deflate, each slight tremor punctuated by loud cracks. Blood started to seep through all the gaps as the screaming grew more intense and shards of the armour pierced Charon’s flesh. As the armour grew ever smaller, bones began to snap and clicked out of place until movement was impossible and the general shape of Charon was that of a curled up, disfigured hedgehog. Nothing could be alive in there now. Incarnate hurled the ball that used to be Charon at Prometheus, which hit him in the face causing him to collapse, unconscious. Incarnate smiled satisfactorily to himself until he reached the spot where Pandora and Hurricane were hanging on for dear life in fear of being atomised.  Incarnate smiled at Pandora. “Now, your life is in my hands,” he whispered threateningly, “now I know how you felt with the power of your bracelet. Watching my descent into madness, whilst knowing you have the power to help me...or damn me.”
“Incarnate,” Hurricane begged, “please, let her live. If not for her, then do it for me.”
“Why?” roared Incarnate, “So she can govern my life even more? No, I quite enjoy this power now; watching the helpless, bringing them to depression and sorrow. Able to manipulate their every move. I know now why you done it, Pandora. The power rush is so much better with a helpless victim.”
“Please, Incarnate,” Pandora pleaded, sobbing, “I’m sorry.”
Incarnate shrieked with laughter. “You’re sorry?” he spat, “it’s a bit too late for that, I think. You nearly made me kill us all on the ISS. You made me lose all of my friends and family due to my insanity! You took everything away from me but my life. Why should I spare yours?” Incarnate raised his hands. Pandora closed her eyes, dreading the drop into the sun-fire below. Hurricane clenched Pandora’s hand tight...
Gravity reversed and Hurricane and Pandora tumbled to Incarnate’s feet. Pandora looked up at his scowling face. “Just remember,” he spat, “I am better than you.”
“Thanks, Incarnate.” said Hurricane, “now let’s go and kill Blue, Red or whatever colour cloud he is now. Maybe purple cloud.”
Incarnate smiled softly and walked with them to face some-sort of colour Cloud. He had beaten his worst enemy.
*
Tahkshi rose gradually and turned to Red Cloud, gingerly picking up the light blade, and glared at Red Cloud. “Well, this is somewhat...how do I put this...unexpected.” said Tahkshi, once more the epitome of angelic innocence, making him quite guil-blah blah blah.
“How? How the hell did you survive?” Red Cloud yelled in abject fury. In this blind fury, he sent a surprisingly accurate bolt of red lightning at Tahkshi, who thought, oh good. The ole paranoia’s gone. Thank god, or is that me now? Then, a true God style moment was due to follow.
 The light blade slashed at the lightning, which curled around the blade, tendrils of electricity lashing out at the blade until the light blade absorbed the lightning. Tahkshi held the blade over his hand and sent a shockwave of lightning around him, sending stones and sand rushing towards Red Cloud in an electrified rage.  Red cloud raised a hand and a large stone wall erected itself in front of him, stopping the pulse in its tracks; the ultimate combo breaker. At that time, a barrage of flaming hot lava pellets hit Red cloud, one at a time, but they dissolved on impact.
 He laughed, “What good are your pathetic nature powers against one with the powers of Hera herself?”
Tahkshi paused and thought about this sincerely, then said, “Yeah, well...she let herself go these past few centuries. Why do you think there hasn’t been any new gods? I mean, she’s old and fat now and Aphrodite’s not much better. I mean, who on Olympus hasn’t done her? Even Hera has, for my sake!” he got his breath back, “sorry for the rant.”
Red Cloud was beginning to get annoyed at Tahkshi disrespecting all that he said. He had now reached yet another final conclusion: Tahkshi must die. Again. Seriously, how many times had he vowed that now? A couple before he “killed” him, a few after finding out Tahkshi was The Entity, several on the way to Icarus’ sun... and the list goes on and on and instead of a definite number, he got a headache. He shook his head and got rid of it, but then contracted another one. This one was more physical, as Tahkshi had kicked him in the temple. Thinking that he should probably focus, Red Cloud grabbed Tahkshi’s foot which was now embedded in his stomach, and threw Tahkshi up into the air. Tahkshi rained lava and what appeared to be explosive seeds down on Red Cloud, who cast a shield of air over him, causing the lava and the seeds to bounce off like raindrops off an umbrella. Tahkshi dropped to the ground and landed on knee, foot and fist. Cracks spread out from his fist, tearing the rocky layer where Red Cloud was standing away from the rest, putting it in a moat of sun-fire; an island in a sea of metaphorical sharks, albeit orange, forty thousand degree plasma sharks.
Red Cloud pointed a slender finger at Tahkshi and bellowed, “You will pay for this incompetence!”
Tahkshi shrugged, indifferent, “I’ve been dead before.” 
*
Looking down at Naarl’s trembling, fragile frame, Master Eye and Silent Creeper noticed something out of the corner of their eyes. They looked past the towering Cronus to see a small but veritable army rampaging towards them. “So, what happened now, old man?” asked Master Eye, baiting Naarl, “or has time stopped speaking to you?”
“Oh no,” Naarl replied, “the voice of time was present in my life way before Cronus found the connection. So, do you really want to know?”
Master Eye continued despite his misgivings, “oh, yes!”
“Fine,” Naarl shut his eyes tight, then snapped them back open again with a look of untold horror, horror that could not be put into words, but as it is written, it can be put into words. “Three more shall die today, but billions of life-forms shall perish in the fall-out. Planets will be vaporised and thousands of species will become extinct.”
A look of realisation and guilt flashed across Master Eye’s face. “What have we done?” he yelled to no-one in particular. He started to shake in nervous terror. 
Naarl decided to offer the hand of forgiveness rather than the boot of retribution, “It’s not too late. We can end this.”
He offered a hand to Master Eye...
And at that delicate moment was when the very small army attacked.
“You tricked me!” yelled Master Eye indignantly before Tao’s  mechanical arm shifted into a cylindrical cannon and shot not a bullet, but a bolt of electricity at him, sending ten thousand volts coursing through his system, causing him to writhe in pain. Pandora finished him with a jolt of psychic energy into his mind and shut it down, causing him to fall into a comatose condition. Tao and Pandora slapped five.
Cronus noticed the army at last when Devilclash burned his foot. He stomped the burning foot on the ground, putting the fires out and knocking the bulk of the nine-strong army over. Trexor picked himself up first and assumed command, “Foton, Hurricane, deal with the Creeper. We’ll take Cronus.” And thus they did. Trexor shifted along the visible spectrum until he was a blinding light and he launched himself at Cronus, who swung what appeared to be a newly polished axe into Trexor’s path. Trexor rebounded off of it and crashed onto the ground.
“Newly polished this, eh, Trexor,” the Titan king gloated, “you really thought I hadn’t learnt from our first encounter? Reflection, Trexor. Ironic, no, that your powers are your weakness?”
“Yeah? Well your ego was always yours, Cronus,” Helios retaliated. He raised his arm, pointing his palm directly at Cronus’s chest. A bolt of pure sun-fire leapt from the palm towards Cronus’s chest. As the armour rippled and cracked, Helios said, “That just burned your ego!” Armour crumbling, Cronus stumbled backwards into the bleak terrain and into unconsciousness. Icarus, Incarnate and Devilclash stood chuckling as Silent Creeper was borne aloft by a twister of dark matter, formed by combining Foton’s and Hurricane’s powers. The Silent Creeper was dropped when the oxygen deprivation kicked in. The group drew together once more and looked at the spot where Red Cloud and Tahkshi were duelling.
*
Red Cloud and Tahkshi faced each other, a metre of sun-fire between them. “Give it up Tahkshi. I can get over this gap any time I like.”
“Go on then,” Tahkshi baited, “or is it a bluff? Have I been wearing you out that much? And while I’m asking questions, what the hell is your problem? You wish to save your father, and now you’ve damned him?”
A bolt of lightning hit Tahkshi square in the chest, sending him spinning through the air until he was smashed against a pile of rocks that were previously a Golem. Red Cloud jumped over the gap easily and joined Tahkshi on the surface of the rocky layer.” You’ve been a thorn in my side for far too long now,” he spat, features contorting with rage, “I only kept you alive because you were the only worthy opponent, but now ends your extended life.” He raised the Blade of Olympus, “and, by the way, I never had any intention of rescuing Dad.” He was letting his guard down.
Fool.
He swung the blade at Tahkshi...
Then, Red Cloud met Incarnate again as he hit an invisible wall, which, when he hit it, he rebounded off of it and on to the ground, where he dropped the Blade of Olympus. Incarnate and the rest of the army appeared. With a spurt of flame from Devilclash, Red Cloud flattened himself to the ground, where Incarnate sealed him there with a gravity bond. Trexor helped Tahkshi up while Pandora seized the Blade of Olympus. Tahkshi walked over to Red Cloud, who was smirking. “What are you smiling for, Cloud.”
Red Cloud chuckled, sending a chill down Tahkshi’s spine, “don’t you think it was all too easy to defeat me?” Tahkshi gulped loudly as Red Cloud then uttered one word: “enough.”
Pure red energy broke off from Red Cloud (would ya believe it?), binding the others and shorting out their powers. Red Cloud jumped up, pleased to be free again and above all, madly jubilant at the helpless gods before him. He skipped over to Tahkshi and kicked him in the face, breaking his nose. Blood trickled out, thick and fast. Red Cloud then turned to Helios and Icarus. “Ah, you two,” he said grandly, “join your forefathers. In death.” He strode over to the pair, who were kneeling side by side, and grabbed a chunk of their hair and threw it into the Cornopticus. Grabbing the Blade of Olympus from Pandora’s thigh, he thrust it into the Cornopticus. The First Children tried to cry out, but the bonds restricted them; this took concentration. The blade and Cornopticus began to react, sending Helios and Icarus into fits of screaming in pain, but without sound. As their mouths opened, a dazzling ball of light appeared and plunged into Red Cloud; their souls. The soulless gods froze and turned to stone. Red Cloud’s red cloud turned gold and began to disperse until the particles grouped together into blocks of armour, which welded themselves to his upper arms, shins and ribcage, leaving the non-gold areas covered in black. He swung his waist length dark blue hair over his shoulders and stared at Tahkshi with gaunt black eyes.
“Get away from my man...um...Gold.”
A female voice...who? He turned and received a silver gloved fist in the face for his troubles, breaking his concentration. “I can call you Gold, right?” asked Viretta, for of course it was she.
Gold pointed at Viretta and said, “You, baby cakes, dressed like that, you can call me whatever you want.”  He turned when something tapped him on the shoulder. “Yes?”
Tahkshi greeted him with yet another fist to the face, “Get your hands off my gal.” He chuckled at Gold, then hugged Viretta tightly, “you okay?” he whispered.
“Yeah, I guess. You?” she replied, stroking his cheek.
“I will be when that monster is dead.” Tahkshi answered, before spinning around and parrying a blow by Gold, who had gotten up and struck with the Blade of Olympus. “Incarnate!” Tahkshi yelled, light blade locked with the Blade of Olympus.
“What?” replied the youngest of the First Children.
“Breathing space.”
“Huh?” for a moment Incarnate’s face was one of bewilderment, but then it cleared as realisation dawned with a soft, “oh, breathing space. Yeah, right.” He raised his hands slowly. Loose stones and sand wriggled slightly around Gold; until Gold gave in to the raw gravity force (!) that was Incarnate and went spiralling off through the air.
“To me!” yelled Tahkshi. The First Children drew close in a huddle; like a tactics huddle before a football match against a particularly strong team. “I have a slight plan that could work. If it fails, Gold will desecrate the known universe with his new rule. If I succeed, however, the Andromeda galaxy will be lost forever.” Blank, horrified stares met him “it’s an unoccupied galaxy and it’s the only way.” He defended. The blank stares wore off when Devilclash spoke.
“What are you gonna do?”
“Gold has taken in so much power today, more power than anything should have. But who says he can control it? All it took was one particularly attractive distraction and he lost his concentration on our bonds. I need you all to get out of here.” He dreaded the next statement, “apart from you, Incarnate.”
Incarnate done a hilarious double take, “Me? Why?”
Tahkshi walked to him and whispered in his ear, “I need you to destroy the AGN when I say so. Incarnate... I’m sorry, but...you’ll probably be killed.”
Incarnate straightened up to his full height. “I would be honoured to die to end this charade,” he said sincerely, “I have had my life taken from me years ago,” he looked at Pandora, who hung her head in shame, “finally, something in my life feels right. This feels right.” He looked at Tahkshi, right in the water-blue eyes, “I’ll do it.”
“Thank you Incarnate. Now, the rest of you, get out of here!” Tahkshi ordered desperately trying to get the others away from the fallout.
“Ah, but how can they leave with no ship?”
The First Children and Viretta turned in perfect unison to see Gold approaching. “Foton,” Tahkshi commanded, “get them outta here!”
Foton obliged, not out of will, but out of contract obligations (always obey the principle) and created a temporal wormhole and shoved the others in before nodding at Tahkshi out of respect. He then stepped through and sealed the wormhole. They reappeared in an atmospheric bubble; the bubble created by Foton, while the atmosphere was created by Hurricane. This atmospheric bubble carried them away to a planet on the edge of the Milky Way galaxy. The inhabitants waited with baited breath...
Meanwhile on the AGN, Gold circled Tahkshi and Incarnate slowly, Blade of Olympus pointed to the middle of the imaginary circle. “Why, Tahkshi? Why bother sending them away when you two delinquents can’t defeat me yourself?”
Incarnate sniggered, “Delinquents? Seriously? What laws ‘ave we broken, den, officah?” Incarnate laughed at his cockney scamp impression (even alien planets had cockney. It was created by Prototype to spread the word of evil) and soon, Tahkshi was laughing too. Tears of laughter streaked down their faces. When they stopped laughing, they looked at Gold, who was scowling at them. They laughed even more, pointing and giggling hysterically at Gold’s face.
Gold lost his temper. Veins in his temple throbbed and burst, only to heal before much blood could escape. Blood vessels in his eyes burst, turning his pupils red with blood, the same colour as his skin, which was red shifting like oh-so many stars (look it up!). His golden armour bulged and rippled as his anger coursed through his body. A moment of realisation dawned on Tahkshi; a sudden epiphany, the cloud was the physical form of his power, so now it’s gone, the armour must contain his power. Destroy the armour, the power goes. He’s helpless equals I win. Voyla. No, wait, voila. Damn misleading pronunciation. Tahkshi decided to act on this theory and sheathed the light blade, requiring something more heavy hitting. He signalled Incarnate.
Incarnate rubbed his hands together and held them together as if holding someone else’s hand, but then it turned out to be his own after an odd delusion. He raised them over his head, and a strange apparition of an enormous hammer appeared in his hands. He jumped up into the air, taking Tahkshi with him, thanks to gravity. They rose high into the sky, where Incarnate slammed the hammer down on Gold, proclaiming via a roar: “Gravity hammer!” Gold flew up as the hammer hit him and the rocky layer. The rocky layer also began to crack and parts of it disintegrated completely, leaving the sun-fire spurting through like lava plumes. 
With Gold landing back on one of the solid areas again, Tahkshi said to Incarnate, “Destroy the AGN if it looks like I’m not gonna be able to defeat him. But only then.” Incarnate nodded curtly.
Tahkshi descended to the small island where Gold was waiting and held out an open palm, in which a golden hammer appeared, made seemingly of lava. Heat and flames radiated from it, bringing a pleasant heat to his face. Gold spotted Tahkshi and ran at him, Blade of Olympus in hand still.  As he swung at Tahkshi, Tahkshi ducked under the blade and smashed the hammer into Gold’s shin armour, shattering them both in one motion. The power rushed out, catching Tahkshi in the chest and breaking several ribs. He drew a breath and winced; his lungs were punctured. He coughed, winced again, one arm hanging loosely by one side. His shoulder went cold; he was going into shock. Then the pain would kick in. He looked down at the hammer; it was shattered; only a small piece remained. He looked up at Gold, who examined his armour, then charged at Tahkshi, who yelled, “now!” to where ever Incarnate was. Gold brought the blade down on Tahkshi, who picked up a rock and blocked it, causing small lumps of gravel to shear off the rock. Meanwhile, Incarnate started to cancel out the accretion that had formed the AGN in the first place.  Each and every particle began to break away from the others, breaking the AGN down layer by layer. The ground beneath Tahkshi and Gold disappeared and they plunged into the sun-fire below, which was not disappearing, but expanding beyond Incarnate’s control, consuming planets as it went. Gold chuckled and flew off. Tahkshi was being consumed slowly by the immense heat, but was able to control a vine, which wrapped itself around Gold’s ankles and pulled him back into the supernova, but not before he had grabbed Incarnate, dragging him in with him. They writhed with pain as they started to die. The AGN pulsed once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Smaller stars exploded and were instantly vaporised and drawn into the supermassive black hole core of the AGN, which was also now all that was left after the supernova-like explosion. It engulfed planets, sending unknown number of life forms to their final extinction for all eternities. Icarus’s sun was the spearhead for this galactic conquest of destruction. For Tahkshi and Incarnate, it was a proper way to die: the perfect cremation for gods. Tahkshi’s last thought was “Shit!” after realizing that the light blade would be destroyed, allowing Prototype to enter the multi-verse. As if to back this up, Tahkshi’s vision went odd and it appeared that there were claws coming out of the black hole...
There was nothing the others could do but weep and pray for each other and the ones who had saved them, trained them, even loved them, befriended them all suffered the most complete cremation ever. Even the hardened face of Foton was wet with tears, but Hurricane placed a warm hand on his shoulder, comforting him. Viretta sat in the, shunning the others and wept...
*
The darkness of the void was incomprehensible to human standards. Imagine closing your eyes, then removing the darkness to create more darkness. It doesn’t work. You can’t imagine it. However, the void was lit by the pillars of lightning and fire that connected the ground to the sky in a spiralling motion. Parts of lightning and fire branched off from the pillars, making the void an even more dangerous place to live. Gold opened his eyes and tried to stand, but he seemed to be bound. A flash of lightning revealed that Tahkshi and Incarnate appeared to be fully healed and bound also. What was going on here? Gold looked around to see a flash of fire illuminate five finger like structures. He knew now where they were: the Hand Of Death, Prototype’s throne room. The fire continued to illuminate the entire throne room thanks to torches around the edges. Prototype sat in an ornate throne in front of the fingers on a raised plinth that looked down on the prisoners. Outright treachery Gold assumed. Then he noticed that Prototype was wearing something Gold underneath his cloak. Gold looked at his armour, or more precisely, where his armour used to be. Prototype, you treacherous bastard he thought, but in actual fact yelled it in pure rage at the inverse god.
Prototype chuckled, “I’m surprised, Gold. You hadn’t realised that I could betray you as easily as I did the Original.”
Gold spat on the floor, “You promised me everything!”
“Soooo childlike,” Prototype hissed maliciously, “why should I promise you anything? You were just a means to an end.” Prototype spread his arms wide, showing Gold the entirety of their surroundings, “This end.”
“What end?”
“The end...of everything. You brought me the golden armour, the Blade of Olympus and the First Children. Tahkshi gave me ultimate power by unlocking the Cornopticus and Incarnate here gave me passage to the universe by unblocking a supermassive black hole and destroying the light blade.” Prototype stepped down from the plinth and stood before Gold, “but I’ll give you one trial before we destroy you.”
“We? Who else?” asked Tahkshi, after realising that Prototype must have saved them from vaporisation and, for some reason, healed them.
Another dark figure appeared by the throne, a humanoid, but somewhat more rugged and appeared to have spiked spines emerging from his shoulders. “Hey, Tahkshi. Ever wonder why I would never aspire to be anything more than shadow minister?” the figure asked.
“Cinradahs...what are you doing here?” Tahkshi asked as realisation struck. 
“Like I said, shadow minister...I am, as you say, Cinradahs. Prototype asked me to keep an eye on you, and in exchange, he granted me the powers of shadow and bound part of the Original’s soul to mine. I kept my side of the bargain oh-so much better than Gold over there.” Gold scowled. 
“Have you got Xaos there too, Prototype?” asked Incarnate, who had just figured out how to look at Prototype.
Prototype chuckled, “when the Original cast his soul into ten, only eight pieces made it into the multi-verse. One piece I gave to Cinradahs here,” Prototype thought for a minute, “you know I said I built the void to separate the gods and prevent holy wars? Well, the multi-verse must be one again! The gods and the void shall perish as the multi-verse collapses in on itself and becomes one; one with a more hands-on order of deities. An order ruled by me, Xaos!”  
Tahkshi shrugged, “well, that answers two of my questions. Just one more-no, sorry, two: why do you want the multi-verse as one again, and two, the collapsing upon itself part sounds very unsafe.”
“That’s because it is unsafe, you twit!” Prototype yelled, “Planets that exist in two or more universes will be assimilated, creating one perfect version of that planet in one universe. Some may be completely annihilated. The reason for this is that of ease. I realised long ago that is was very difficult to keep an eye on all of the universes, the main reason I got Gold here to gather you First Children. Now, I will destroy you, and the powers of the First Children shall be broken. Broken and mine! But, I will give you one chance and one chance only. Defeat me, Inverse god and god of destruction, and Cinradahs, lord of shadows and god of death!” The bonds surrounding the three of the captives disappeared, allowing them to gather together, each unsure about their step; the void took a lot of getting used to and time to do so, time they did not have.  
“We have to put our differences behind us and work together.” said Incarnate, commanding the others, who glared at each other.
“Maybe we could,” Tahkshi growled, “if he hadn’t killed all of the gods.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe if you had been wiser, none of this would’ve happened!” Gold replied hastily.
“Don’t you try to blame me for this!”
“Why not? You’re blaming me!”
“That’s because it is your fault!”
“Guys,” Incarnate interrupted, “this is not Tahkshi’s fault. And, I never thought I’d say this, but it’s not primarily Gold’s fault. Our universe is already damned thanks to him, but this is about the entirety of all existence. This is Prototype’s, or Xaos’s, or whatever his name is, fault.”
“Please,” called Prototype, or Xaos, or whatever his name was, “call me Xaos.”                              
“So,” Tahkshi stated, “we need to do what my plan was to defeat you, Gold; destroy the armour.” 
“Then, you’ll need to destroy the empty Cornopticus.” Gold stated, “or else the power will keep flowing anyhow. Trust me, I know the Cornopticus better than even Xaos.”
“But, first, we should take out Cinradahs,” Incarnate pointed out, “always get rid of the backup first, you always said, Tahkshi.”
“Good to know you listened, Incarnate,” Tahkshi said, “If I can distract Xaos, can you two defeat Cinradahs and destroy the Cornopticus?”
Gold chuckled, “I doubt both of us will be needed.” Incarnate nodded in agreement.
Tahkshi broke away from the huddle and walked over to Xaos. “Xaos,” he asked, “are you game for a chess battle?”
Xaos roared with laughter. “Of course, Tahkshi,” he replied cockily, “but you failed and burned last time. What makes you think you’ll be any different this time?”
“Well,” Tahkshi replied, baiting Xaos’s anger, “if that is so, then why are you complaining? Afraid you might lose?” 
Xaos clenched his fists, and then waved his hand. The chess table appeared, accompanied by the same old uncomfortable wooden stools. They don’t know what I’m sacrificing for them, Tahkshi joked, it’s enough to sacrifice my life, but not my comfort! He sat on the wooden stool opposite Xaos and moved a pawn two spaces forward. Xaos responded with a knight, sliding along in an “L” shape.
Cinradahs walked over to Gold, who was eyeing his shoulder length hair. 
“Greasy hair, Cinradahs?” Gold asked, disgusted, “you really need to wash your hair more. Even I managed to keep my hair, which is longer than yours, nice and clean.”
Cinradahs smirked as he replied nastily, “Yeah, well I don’t have time. Y’see, I’ve been doing my job properly, so I didn’t have any time. Maybe that’s why Xaos betrayed you, not me.”
“Oh, you bi-“
Cinradahs interrupted, running headlong at Gold, catching him in the stomach and winding him. Incarnate twisted around, grabbed Cinradahs with a translucent hand of gravity and slammed him to the ground before summoning the gravity hammer once more and smashing that into Cinradahs’s chest, making all small pieces of debris zoom into his chest, breaking each and every one of his ribs in quick succession . Gold got up and placed his hands together. In his hands, a blade of blue energy formed. The blade sparkled with specks of bright blue, which shined against the light of the fires. He swung the blade into Cinradahs’s chest, then pulled it back out, taking his heart out with it. The dark red blood was barely visible in the bad lighting as it gushed out. Incarnate crept silently over to Xaos’s throne and picked up the empty Cornopticus and altered the centre of gravity to the actual centre of the Cornopticus, causing it to collapse in on itself, totally useless. “Another priceless artefact destroyed!” Incarnate joked. Gold chuckled quietly.
Tahkshi, however, was not faring so well. Already in check, he was trying desperately to avoid total checkmate again. “There is no escape, Tahkshi,” Xaos warned, “you will lose.”
Tahkshi grimaced and tried a most radical plan. He concentrated on his arm, causing a nub of pure enamel to emerge from each of his knuckles, which merged into one blade of bone about half a metre long. Xaos hadn’t noticed as that arm was underneath the table.  He banged on the bottom of the table, sending Xaos’s chess pieces flying up into the air. Tahkshi singled out the king and sliced it in two with his blade whilst proclaiming, “Checkmate.” The two halves of the king clattered down in front of Xaos, who frowned in disbelief. 
“What have you done, Tahkshi?” Xaos asked, outraged over this incompetence.
“You never said this was a fair game, so I cheated and won.” Tahkshi gloated.
Xaos rose from the chair and drew a scythe from beneath his cloak and asked, “Do you know what this is?”
“Duh, a scythe, maybe?” Tahkshi replied, disdainfully.
“Yes, but a special kind of scythe. Morpheus’s nightmare scythe, to be exact. Yes, Foton, your body guard threw it in here by accident seconds before he tore Morpheus in half. Ha! That wiped a smile off your face, did it not?” Xaos boasted scornfully, not reacting well to Tahkshi’s insults. Gold and Xaos would have made a great couple. “Prepare to meet your fears!” He paused for a minute, then said absent-mindedly, “again.” He swung the scythe at Tahkshi...
Incarnate called for Gold, and they put their hands together, allowing Gold’s power to boost Incarnate’s gravity powers to an atomic level. He focused on the pillars of fire and lightning around the Hand of Death, and shifted their gravity centre to Xaos. Xaos brought the scythe down, but was stopped by a vicious onslaught of fire and lightning that seared his flesh. Tahkshi rolled away, snatching the Blade of Olympus from Xaos’s side on the way past. Xaos was not stopped for long, though, beginning to move as if underwater at first, but constantly speeding up. “Tahkshi!” Incarnate yelled, “give me your hand!”
Tahkshi held Incarnate’s other hand and together summoned the gravity hammer and small debris latched themselves to Xaos, slowly crushing his bones; but he was more resilient than Cinradahs, he still moved forwards, shaking off the fire and lightning as if they weren’t there. Tahkshi and Gold readied their blades; this was going to be the fight of their lives.
Xaos roared, and the debris flew away from him, only to be made into a makeshift axe by Incarnate and his gravity manipulation powers. Gold charged at Xaos, who drew the shadow blade and parried the blow, sending Gold’s blade flying out of his hand. Xaos tried to finish Gold off, but Tahkshi intervened and smashed Xaos’s rebuilt golden shin armour with his bone blade. Xaos straightened up and slapped the Blade of Olympus out of Tahkshi’s hand. Tahkshi fought then with his bone blade, slightly more awkward than fighting with a sword, but he couldn’t be disarmed without being dis-armed ha-ha. They fought brutally, Tahkshi always on the defensive until Incarnate, forgotten in this battle, sneaked up on Xaos and shattered the golden chest armour with his axe, surprising Xaos so much, he dropped the shadow blade and Tahkshi was able to shatter his upper arm armour. No power rushed out. 
“You idiots!” Xaos laughed, “I absorbed the armour’s power long ago. These were just a defensive mechanism now. And I’ve had quite enough of you three.”
Xaos grabbed Gold by the forehead and clenched his hand into a crushing fist, squashing Gold’s skull into the shape of a regular household casserole dish, dying Gold’s beautiful long dark blue hair red with blood and a layer of brain fluid seeped. There was no coming back from that. 
Simultaneous cries came from Incarnate and Tahkshi, who each charged forth and managed to actually cut Xaos with their weapons, drawing a small amount of blood. Xaos spread his arms wide and sections of the ground rippled. Tahkshi and Incarnate hurried away from these areas before poisonous purple spikes erected themselves out of the ground, utterly destroying whatever would have been standing there. Xaos picked up the shadow blade and ran at Tahkshi, cloak billowing behind him. Incarnate and Tahkshi stood together in a barricade, as if they had even a slim chance at stopping him. They could barely stop Gold, and Xaos had crushed him like a paper cup.
Xaos swung the shadow blade lazily at them, but they just managed to block it, knocking Xaos back ever so slightly whereas they skidded backwards. Incarnate appeared to have fixed the void’s alternate physics for now. Tahkshi hadn’t noticed this before; he had been too busy fighting for his life and his universe. Xaos came back again, shooting black spheres of shadow at them, but they managed to avoid most of them, except for one, which caught Incarnate’s arm and spun him a full three sixty degrees before dumping him on the floor. Tahkshi moved in front of him and raised his bone blade threateningly, as if to try and ward Xaos away. But Xaos kept coming, unrelenting, nothing could stop him now. He slashed at Tahkshi, who ducked underneath only to receive a foot to the face, which floored him next to Incarnate. He could hear Incarnate’s shallow breathing as Xaos stood over them, evidently grinning under the hood.
“Well,” Xaos said, “this is how it ends, I guess. Oh, and Incarnate? Thanks for getting rid of the alternate physics. So much easier to kill you now.” He brought the shadow blade down on the pair of them.

In the end, there was only darkness.





Epilogue
Earth, Area 51
Maria and Cody sat in what was formerly Tao’s room, still watching the phone, expecting the call to confirm that they were all ok. They did not know that this call was never to come...
They huddled together and dialled Tao’s universally-enabled phone, but there was no answer. “Ya think something’s happened?” asked Cody uncertainly.
 “Yes,” stated Maria bluntly, “I don’t wanna believe it, but yes, I do. Shit be going down, I presume.”
“Indeed, it is.” Cody agreed, “Shit is indeed going down.”
Maria frowned all of a sudden. “I hope they’re okay.”
“They probably are. They’re tough, y’know?”
“Yeah...They’ll be okay.”
How wrong they were.
*
Buena, The Golden Palace
The nearly-rebuilt home of the Galactic Overlord, who was dead, was now inhabited by a new resident: the new Overlord. The new Overlord walked up the immense flights of stairs, the ones that Foton had led Tors, Emola and Hurricane up. The new Overlord went into the ash-ridden Overlord’s chamber, the one Tahkshi had occupied just four days before. He sat in the throne and smiled.
Xaos’s new lord of shadows chuckled.
Cinradahs laughed louder and louder until it resonated around the palace, disturbing the builders working around the floating scaffolding. Xaos shall rise… 
*
The Void
Xaos sat in his throne and looked at the corpses beneath his feet. They stirred not, albeit in the winds, fire and lightning pillars that tore through the Void as the destruction of the light blade was finally felt. The Void was being torn apart from within, like if you accidentally swallowed a badger, you would be torn apart from the inside out. 
The pillars thundered across the Hand Of Death, tearing the ground to shreds, uprooting the dark pathways. Xaos got out of his throne, tore the chess table from the floor and entered the blinding portal that had appeared where the ground used to be. He looked back at the nearly destroyed wasteland and smiled. Free at last.
After stepping through the shimmering portal, Xaos entered an area of hollowed out steel chamber. He placed the table in the centre of the room, placed ten bishops around the centre in a small square, before placing a king in the direct centre of the board. He put twelve pawns on the board, put two at the side of the board and toppled them. The other ten, he arranged around the bishops. Bishop was synonymous for Lord in Xaos’s highest opinion anyway.
The plan was almost complete. The Ten Lords were ready now. The universe was ripe for the picking, and Xaos was the most powerful picker of them all...
Xaos turned away and, in the back of his mind, heard a chilling
voice hiss:
“Darkness Shall fall.”
He turned quickly, eyes darting around the chamber. “Get away
from me!” Xaos yelled, fear enveloping him and break his voice,
cracking it.
“Your services are needed only slightly longer, Xaos.” the voice
said again. “And then...only then can Darkness Fall.”