#and in a panic i teleported straight back to the stable and took out another horse as fast as i could. the horse was fine but i did

[funsizedcrow]

funniest thing that ever happened when we were playing botw was my sister was playing and she had made it up to the top of the tower in hyrule field (the one surrounded by guardians) and was looking down at the guardians through a slot in the like railing and i was like "you should shoot the guardian" because i thought they were out of range and so she shot the guardian in the eye with an arrow and it came alive and immediately hit link with a laser and link instantly died ragdolled and fell through the slot and miphas grace activated and my sister immediately teleported away while mipha was still doing her thing. and i was just laughing so hard.

[grinch-003]

UNDERSIDE (Test version) chapter 4

[Start] [Previous] [Next]

Chapter 4: “Project: “Fragmentation” 

 DAY: 23 AUGUST 

 YEAR: 2032 

 TIME: 7:19 PM

[“Cage”…]

Jack: (Exhales black smoke)

Alphys: (Not far from “Cage”) A–are okay th–there, Jack…?

Jack: (All black) (Looks down) Kinda, Al…kinda…                                  (Walls are covered with scratches)

[6 hours ago…]

[Area #5…]

Jack: (Exhausted) Huff…huff…huff… Undyne, please…gimme a break…

Undyne: Fufufufu… Fine, punk. I had to be on patrol anyway.

Jack: (Looks at Undyne) Then why are you here…?

Undyne: To make sure that you are still tough. (Smiles) K’ gotta go.   (Walks away)

Jack’s thoughts: Yeah, she wasn’t kidding, when she said, that training would deadly. But at least, she was going easy on me, if I couldn’t keep up.

?????: (From behind) Well, well, well, look what we’ve got here…

Jack: How and why did you come here? (Turned around) (Pissed) Oh, yeah… Still hiding behind your family’s skirt, wimp.

?????: Ha! Looks like you still hanging out with your friends, MONSTER?

Jack: (Getting angry) My name is JACK…and I recommend you to get outta here.

?????: Hey, I didn’t hurt your little sister this time.

Jack: Don’t you dare even talk about Saldels, Eline! Guess you didn’t learn that I hate humans like you. (Calmed down a bit)

Eline: At least, I am a HUMAN.

Jack: Yeah, so what’s your point in here?

Eline: (Pissed) You are not even a monster, you just a coldblooded and soul-eating BEAST!

Jack: (Thumb–thumb) (Turns black) SHUT… (Teleported)              (Appeared in front of Eline) UP!  (Attacked Eline with a scythe)

[Crack…]

W.D.Gaster: (Blocked Jack’s attack) You have to calm down, Jack. (Looks at Eline) And you…  (Looks at Eline) Eline Airelle, you should be ashamed. (Teleported Aline to a safe place)

Jack: Don’t forget that I’m still here, DOC! (Slashes Gaster)

W.D.Gaster: (Protected himself with a summoned blaster)

Jack: (Soul turned blue) Wha…?

Sans: You are blue now. (Throws Jack away)

Jack: (Flew into the wall) Ggghhhhaa…!

Sans: (Teleported to Gaster) (Looks at Gaster) You okay, dad?

W.D.Gaster: I think…I am…

Sans: What’s gotten into him? And what’s more questioning…he summoned a weapon…

W.D.Gaster: A scythe… That’s what he used for the attack.

Jack: (Stands on the ground) (Summoned Blasters) I’M NOT DONE YET!!!!! (Shooted)

Serjel: (Running to Sans and Gaster) (Jumped) (Landed on the ground in front of Gaster) I’m sorry, Jack. (Shooted)

[Flash…]

Jack: Ehh…? (Was shooted)

Serjel: (Cries)

W.D.Gaster: Ace…

Serjel: (Turns to Gaster) Answer me, Gaster. (Shouts) HOW DID IT ALL COME TO THIS!!??!?

Jack: (Appears out of nowhere) I think you forgetting something, dad… (About to attack) JUSTICE DOESN’T WORK AGAINST ME. (Slashes)

Saldels: (Blocked Jack’s attack with a sword)

Serjel: Uhh… Saldels…?

Saldels: (Shouts at Jack) WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, JACK?!?!?!?!?   DID YOU REALLY WANTED TO KILL OUR FRIENDS AND OUR OWN FATHER?!?!? (Furiously attacks Jack) (Stabbed Jack into the chest) (Realizes) What am I…?

Jack: Great job, sis… (With a sword in a chest)

Saldels: (Shocked)

Jack: (Bleeding) (Smiles) See, you are not a coward…

Saldels: J–Jack, w–why are you smiling…?

Jack: Can’t I be proud of my little sister. (Crying)

Saldels: But you are crying…! (About to cry)

Jack: That’s because of pain, and because your JUSTICE magic really hurts me. (Started to fall) (Sword disappeared from the chest) So, please…

Saldels: Bro…! (Catches Jack)

Jack: Become even stronger, to make sure that you’ll kill me next time. (Passed out)

Saldels: Ggghh… (Cries) (Hugs Jack tight)

[Now…]

Jack: It’s all my fault. (Looks up) That’s why I’m in the “Cage”–a camera for the most dangerous objects in this lab. And I’m here because I lost control above my emotions.

W.D.Gaster: Don’t be so harsh on yourself. Human or monster, you are still you.

Alphys: Yeah, th–that’s right…!

Jack: Thanks, but can you just leave me alone, please? I need to think…

[W.D.Gaster and Alphys left…]

[Control room…]

Serjel: Is he still there?

W.D.Gaster: Yes… (Looks at Serjel) he decided to stay there to think a bit.

Alphys: H–he still bl–blaming himself for everything wh–what happened…

Saldels: I’m not sure, maybe it’s because…

Serjel: Quit it, Saldels… (Looks at Saldels) he’s not mad at you, he even thanked you.

Saldels: (Remembers Jack’s words)

[Serjel’s office…]

Serjel: (Smokes) Emotions always were Jack’s problem, and I know, that sometimes he loses control above them. But still…what was that strange thing behind him?

[Later that day…]

[“Cage”…]

Jack:(Sits on the floor) (Leans to the wall) Buzz off already. And what was your name again…?

Jass: (In the air) It was JASS, and it looks like that you still didn’t understand WHO AM I.

Jack: NO, so what…? Are you gonna tell me who are you or what exactly?

Jass: Easier to say that I’M YOU, but it’s too boring… (Grins) don't you think?

Jack: You are my HATE, aren’t you? And this also explains why are you look like me or why are you all black and kinda jerk…

Jass: Tsk, smart ass. So, are you gonna curse me till death, because of me, you’ve almost killed your friends and family?

Jack: No, I’m not going to curse, or even blame you. Everything that happened is not your fault, it’s mine. G’night, Jass.

Jass: Hmm…better be on your side than against you. Goodnight, kid. (Smiles)

DAY: 11 JULY  

YEAR: 2035 

 TIME: 11:45 AM

Jack: (Smiles)

Jass: (Stands next to Jack) Congrats! You are 15 years old now…uuuhh… Remind me, what can you do now? I still can’t understand this AGE thing…

Jack: Well… (Looks straight) it’s been 5 years since I’m in this project, and it’s been a 1 year since I killed doctor Rose.

Jass: Sad…and rough. I remember, that you killed her by yourself, but she doesn’t blame. (Concerned) And do you even feel happiness or… Something?

Jack: Not sure. (Looked at the watch) It’s about time, I should go. (Walks away)

Jass: Good luck, Jack Ace Side.

Jack: (Snorked) Thanks.

Monica Rose: (Behind Jass) He didn’t change at all, and yet…he looks and acts differently.

Jass: He saved your life, by absorbing your soul. But he thinks that you hate him, that’s why he can’t see or even feel that you are right next to him.

Monica Rose: It’s okay, he just needs time. (Turned around) ‘Kay, bye. (Waved)

Jass: See ya later, doc.

[At the main lab…]

W.D.Gaster: Finally arrived. I guess you’ve been thinking, haven’t you?

Jack: (Shrinked) Ehh, maybe…

W.D.Gaster: Well then… (Turned around) (Starts to walk) let’s go.

Jack: (Follows Gaster) Right beside you, Wing Dings Gaster.

W.D.Gaster: (Looked behind)

Jack: (Smiled)

[The test area…]

Serjel: Greetings, Gaster. Hello, Jack. Are you ready?

Jack: Yeah, I am. And…(Looked away) sorry about your eye…

Serjel : (Smiles) Don’t worry about it.

Saldels: C’mon, bro. Let’s finish this quickly, and then we should celebrate your birthday.

Jack: (Comes to machine) (Stopped) (Turned back) Counting on you, guys. (Entered the machine)

Serjel, Saldels & W.D.Gaster: WE WILL DO OUR BEST!

[Inside the machine…]

Jack: I hope, I won’t have another amnesia, and it’ll erase all those years that I spent here.

[Glass brakes and alarm starts to work…]

Jack: What just…ghhhaaaaa… (Falls on his knees) (Hardly breaths)

[At the control point…]

Serjel: (Looks at Alphys) Alphys, what happened to the machine?!!?!

Alphys: I–I–I–I–I don’t know, something went wrong and machine went out of control…!

W.D.Gaster: (Looks at the machine) It’s an overload, Jack’s soul contains too much magic, even more than a machine can handle, that’s why it went out of control.

Serjel: (Looks at everyone) Evacuate, NOW!!!

Saldels: (Looks at Serjel) Dad, but what about you!??!!

Serjel: (Looks at Saldels) I can’t leave, I have to stay here and try to stabilize the machine.

Serjel’s thoughts: Besides… (Looks at the machine) I can’t leave my son to die in here.

[Meanwhilee in the machine…]

Jack: (Heavy breathing) It hurts… Why does it hurt so much…?

Jack’s thoughts: It feels like I’m dying, but…at the same time I like I’m already dead.

Jass: (Flies through the hall) What the hell is going on, where’s everyone. (Stoped) (Shocked) WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON HERE!?!??!!? (Notices Serjel) Hey, Oldman, what just happened here, and where is…?!

Serjel: Looks like everyone already evacuated, but the machine can explode at any moment… (Looked at the machine) I don’t have time to run…

Jass: “About to explode”…? (Flies to machine) Jack, get out of the…

Jack: GGHHHHAAAA…!!!!

[Flash…]

[Explosion…]

Jack: (Comes out of the broken machine) Nnghhh… (In pain) Damm it…that was close… (Checks his stats and soul) Heh…                                  (Soul cracked into pieces) In some way, it looks stable, but… my HP is falling down.

Serjel: (Shouts) JACK…!!!!!!

Jack: Shit…

Serjel: (Runs to Jack) You’re alive, thank God, I thought that you didn’t survive and… (Stopped) (Notices Jack’s broken soul)

Jack: Heh…hey, dad. (Turned to Serjel) Sorry, I have a little problem…

Serjel’s thoughts: NO…no no no. Why did it happen? Wait, maybe this exactly what we needed?

Serjel: (Grabs the box in his office with magic) (Box flew in hand) (Put hand inbox) (Took green pill out of the box) (Gives Jack a green pill)    Here, Jack, eat this.

Jack: Dad, I think It’s not the right time for medicine, but if you say so… (Took green pill) (Gulp)

 A piece of Jack’s soul turned GREEN, but the other seven pieces still the same. Serjel started to panic because he thought it would help. Then, Jack suggested Serjel give him the rest pills, to find out what would happen. Serjel gave Jack all pills with a face full of despair. Jack ate all those pills. Six pieces of his soul turned YELLOW, BLUE, LIGHT BLUE, PURPLE, ORANGE, and RED.

 And yet… The last fragment of his soul still WHITE, but suddenly all fragments started to glow. And for a moment, Serjel thought it worked, but Jack absorbed too much magic at once. His body was about to let out all this magic, but…it could kill him. Serjel begins to beg Jack not to do this. Jack didn’t listen to him at all. So Serjel hugged Jack, and then a big colon of light appeared in the sky. Serjel has gone, and Jack was lying on the ground all alone, surrounded by ruins of the laboratory, where he spent the hardest moments of his life.

[jahaanofmenaphos]

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

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TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 11: SLISKE’S ENDGAME

QUEST SUMMARY:

The eclipse is nigh. The end of Sliske’s games draws near. All the gods gather for one final race for the Stone, taking them through a shadowy labyrinth of the devious Mahjarrat’s design. Not only does Jahaan have to survive the trials Sliske sets out for them, but he has to compete against every major deity in Gielinor. Then, and only then, will he have a shot at ending Sliske’s madness once and for all…

CHAPTER 8 - THE OTHER SIDE

As soon as all the gods were spat out of the labyrinth and into the sweltering desert heat, Seren informed the gathered crowd about the fate of the Stone, and how the World Guardian and Sliske were left behind when it exploded. Though it was implied that they would have perished, Icthlarin knew otherwise, as did Death.

Zamorak and Saradomin left soon after, not caring to spend anymore time among one another’s company than they had to. The Stone - their prize for these tedious games - had been destroyed, therefore what was the point in remaining?

Armadyl decided to stay. When he noticed Icthlarin and Death hadn’t left, he didn’t want to either. Their presence meant there was still hope for Jahaan. He discussed with his avianse about the feasibility of tunneling down to provide the World Guardian with some assistance. Even though it was agreed that such a feat was impossible, Armadyl refused to leave until he saw either Jahaan or Sliske emerge from below. He prayed it was the former.

Seren stayed too, as did Zaros. If Sliske was the one to crawl out from the depths below, they wanted to be the first to greet him.

After what felt like an age had passed, Zaros suddenly vanished. There was no teleport spell cast - he just vanished. Naturally, panic and paranoia followed, Azzanadra nearly coming to blows with the elves that guarded Seren. He was convinced she had something to do with his disappearance, despite her affirmation that she knew nothing and there was no evidence suggesting otherwise. It took Armadyl and Icthlarin to quell the tension, but they barely managed it.

After only a few minutes, Zaros blinked back into the gathering like he’d returned from a ripple in existence, though considerably angrier than when he left. Seren tried to call out to him, but he simply stormed over to his entourage and teleported away with them, a dark cloud lingering where he left.

Not long after that, Jahaan returned to them.

Or at least, what was left of him.

Jahaan was conscious when he hit the ground, though that sharp return of his agony made him wish he wasn’t. What happened next, however, barely registered for him - the dirt and tears in his eyes, coupled with the deafening ringing in his ears, made focusing impossible. All he could concentrate on was the pain, hoping it would get to the stage where he would black out from it. At least then he wouldn’t have to endure it.

Instead, he felt hands grab at him, rolling him over. He didn’t realise just how much blood he was lying in. An involuntary, blood-curdling shriek escaped from his lips when hands tried to put pressure on the wound.

He felt a cool ice coat his abdomen, a subtle pressure attached to it - a female voice followed it. Seren had temporarily stopped the bleeding with a layer of crystal. Not that Jahaan noticed. All he felt was a nauseating jolt as he was lifted up into the air, head-spinning and limbs crying out in protest.

Seren told the others to follow her to Prifddinas, which to Jahaan was nothing more than an echoed mumble. Whenever he was going, he hoped a bed was on the other side of it. A nice, warm bed… can’t I just sleep now?

Fortunately for Jahaaan, he got his wish.

The spell was intended to comatose the World Guardian during the operation. Elven medicine was far superior to anything else on Gielinor, therefore Seren knew Jahaan’s best chances were with her. But there was a lot of blood lost already, alongside damage to the small intestine, some of which would have to be removed. It would take days to see if the procedure had worked, and Jahaan’s condition could deteriorate in a matter of hours if they had missed a source of internal infection. Herbal remedies were infused into him to keep his vitals stable and to provide nutrients.

Whenever Jahaan was awake, he wasn’t ever ‘there’. Some delirious mumbles, a glazed expression, and a refusal to eat. Then, he would fall asleep again, sometimes for the rest of the day.

The chief healer, Lady Heledd, estimated that he would be sitting up, talking and eating within five days. Eight had passed, and all he did was sleep. Often, Jahaan would talk in his sleep, a crude blend of languages, some that even Lady Heledd and the other healers didn’t recognise.

Heads turned whenever Icthlarin and Death visited the affirmed, and assurances had to be made that, if they were there to claim Jahaan’s soul, they wouldn’t be coming in through the front door.

While Icthlarin was unaware of when Jahaan would pass, he knew that Death held that information. Death knew the ‘when’ and ‘how’ for every being on Gielinor. Of course, Death never parted with this information, not even to Icthlarin. Doing so would ‘upset the balance’, he would always say. Icthlarin couldn’t resent his friend for doing his duties, but hated not knowing if the next time he saw Jahaan would be in the Underworld. Not that Jahaan wanted to go through the Underworld, or to an afterlife. Icthlarin knew that, if the time came, he would have to respect the World Guardian’s decision.

Jahaan was never awake for their visits, nor was he awake for the handful of times Armadyl dropped in on him. The avianse deity had diligently stayed at his bedside, sometimes for hours on end, never getting anything more than a delirious groan from the World Guardian. Despite trusting the elves and elven medicine, Armadyl invited Gaw’kara to join him in a visit to Jahaan’s hospital room, just to see if he had a different take on Jahaan’s condition. Unfortunately, he didn’t, reaffirming what Lady Heledd and the elven healers had told them: time will tell.

When Jahaan slept for thirty-six hours straight, having to be kept alive by the constant chanting of an air spell to assist his breathing, there was the fear he might never wake up.

Until he did.

Groggily, Jahaan dragged himself back into consciousness, blinking away the haziness of his vision and trying to sharpen up the world around him. It was bright, very bright. Everything seemed to shine, like the walls were made of pure cyan crystal. It reminded him of Prifddinas, or what little he had seen of it.

Has Icthlarin accidentally taken me to Seren’s afterlife? Jahaan thought to himself, though reconsidered the likelihood after trying to sit up slightly and feeling a searing pain in his abdomen. Surely the afterlife doesn’t come with lasting agony?

Then, he heard a voice beside him, “Don’t move. I’ll get Lady Heledd.”

A brush of turquoise flittered past his vision. Soon after, a tall elven woman with curled blonde hair tied into a high bob entered the room. Her gown was white and pristine with a turquoise diamond emblazoned on it.

“Where am I?” Jahaan hoarsely whispered, his croaky throat coughing with the effort. A straw was forced near his mouth, and Jahaan hungrily sipped down the contents like he hadn’t drunk in months. More coughing followed.

“Steady on, love,” the pointy-eared healer cooed. Her warm voice was reassurance incarnate. “You’re alright now. Can you tell me your name?”

“Jahaan,” the World Guardian replied, needing to take a deep breath as he continued, “Jahaan Siad-Samak.”

“Alrighty Jahaan, and can you tell me your age?” Lady Heledd asked with a soft tone you’d usually use when addressing a child. In fact, she continued on with about a dozen more questions Jahaan deemed as asinine, his repeating inquiries as to his location ignored every time.

“I don’t understand why you won’t tell me what’s going on,” Jahaan huffed, feeling slightly more invigorated now. Not enough to move, no. But enough to sound slightly irate. “Where am I?”

Setting down the notebook she’d been penning his answers into, alongside other comments and remarks, Lady Heledd perched on the bed beside Jahaan with the friendliest smile he’d ever seen. She probably gave this smile to everyone, but Jahaan wanted to think that it was reserved purely for him. “You’re in Prifddinas, love, in hospital. You’ve been out a while. I needed to ask all those questions to make sure you were fully with me this time.” “Fully with you?” Jahaan queried at the odd turn of phrase. “What do you mean? How long was I out?”

“Just under two weeks, dear,” Lady Heledd replied. “You’ve been awake before now, but you weren’t all that responsive, talking slightly delirious and all that.”

Jahaan tried to run his mind back over the last two weeks, but came up empty. He remembered nothing from that period. He forced his mind back further, but it was a mighty effort.

The labyrinth, the fight, the stab, he winced at the last one, tying it to the ache in his stomach. Then, his eyes widened. “Jas!”

“Steady on, dear,” Lady Heledd held him down as he bolted up in bed, the World Guardian instantly regretting the action, crumbling back into the bedsheets with an extended groan. “What’s this ‘Jas’ anyhow?”

Panting from the exertion, Jahaan said, “I need to talk to Seren.”

“World Guardian!” Seren cheerily greeted when she glided into the room. “I’m glad to see you compos-mentis.”

There were pressing concerns on Jahaan’s mind, one’s he wanted to share urgently before they were forgotten in the depths of his memory. But naturally, he first wanted to say, “Thank you for everything you have done for me, Seren. It sounds like you saved my life.”

“My elves saved your life,” Seren corrected, humbly. “It was touch and go at some points, I must say. But it’s a relief you pulled through. Your death would have been a loss for all of Gielinor, after all you have done. What happened down there, after the Stone exploded?”

Briefly, Jahaan informed Seren about the battle with Sliske and how the drain on the Mahjarrat’s energy weakened him severely. He told of how he was stabbed by the Staff of Armadyl, and how Sliske stabbed himself too, no doubt trying to forcefully siphon Jahaan’s soul into himself. But, for some reason, the process failed, and Sliske turned to stone.

Then, he finally arrived at what he needed to tell her the most, about his meeting with Jas.

After the tale ended, the elven deity was rendered speechless.

Jahaan had to prompt her, “What should be done?”

Seren gulped. “I… am not quite sure. I am not surprised at my brother’s attempt to ascend to elder godhood, and I am glad he was denied. But Jas said that mortal life has to prove it is worthy of existing, or the Great Revision will commence again… how do we prove ourselves to a being that considers mortal life a mistake? How can we...”

Her tone became faint, trailing off towards the end. To Seren, she had been burdened with the task of ensuring all life in the universe continued. To Jahaan, he’d relieved himself of the issue for now. No doubt it would weigh on him at a later date, but for now, tiredness was crawling back into his mind, his eyes suddenly feeling a whole lot heavier.

After a few minutes of solemn contemplation, Seren noticed her audience was waning. “I shall leave you to rest. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll be up for an audience? Icthlarin has been visiting repeatedly, much to the disconcertion of the elves.”

“I’d like that,” Jahaan said with a faint smile before allowing his eyes to close.

When Icthlarin walked through into his room the next day, Jahaan was finally sitting up and managing to get some soup down him. Solid foods were still too much of a struggle, and his appetite was far from its usual self, but this soup was divine. Never had hospital food tasted so damn good. Maybe it was because he hadn’t eaten much of anything in a fortnight, but this soup was one of the finest culinary delights he had ever had the pleasure of enjoying. This was a hill he was prepared to die on.

“Icthlarin!” Jahaan grinned, the soup’s warmth and happiness increasing his mood tenfold. “I must be the only human alive who’s glad to see the god of the underworld.”

“It is good to see you here, alive and almost in one piece, my friend,” Icthlarin replied, a broad smile that revealed his large canines. It soon faded, however, as he said, “I… apologise for the state I was in during Sliske’s labyrinth. I am embarrassed you had to see me like that.”

“Don’t apologise,” Jahaan fervently finished up the last of the soup. “I’m just glad you’re back to your usual self now. Can’t say the same for me though. Lady Heledd - the chief healer here - thinks I’m going to be bedridden for a while.”

Jahaan didn’t frankly care, as long as he had his soup.

Naturally, Icthlarin was curious as to what occurred after he was ejected from the maze, and Jahaan regaled him with the tale in full. Afterwards, there was a prevailing question on Jahaan’s mind he had to ask, even if the subject loomed over his good mood like rain clouds threatening to burst.

Mentally preparing himself, he breathed deeply before asking, “How was Ozan when you saw him?”

Icthlarin furrowed his brow. “Ozan?”

“You remember Ozan, don’t you?” Jahaan checked, slightly puzzled. The two had met on adventures in the past, and Icthlarin never forgot a face. “He was one of Sliske’s wights. He’d have passed onto the afterlife after Sliske died, right?”

“I remember Ozan well, but he never passed into my domain.”

For a brief moment, Jahaan could have sworn he felt his heart stop. “C-Can you explain that?”

“I… I do not know how,” Icthlarin looked as concerned as he did confused. “If Ozan was bound to Sliske as a wight, Sliske’s death should have released Ozan’s soul. That is the natural order of things.”

Jahaan didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to dare get his hopes up. The pain of having them crash down around him might finish him off for good. And yet, he couldn’t help himself. “Are you saying… Ozan’s alive?”

“I can only confirm that he is not dead,” Icthlarin spoke slowly, like he was calculating equations in his mind, ones that were written in a language he couldn’t quite decipher. “At least, not fully. Perhaps he is still trapped as a wight, but that should not be possible. He should-”

He was interrupted by a tight hand squeezing his own. Jahaan bolted upright in bed, wide eyes showing more signs of life than they ever had. “Can you find him for me? P-Please, I… I need to see him, please can you try to find him?”

Features softening, Icthlarin rested a paw on top of Jahaan’s hand. “I shall try, my friend.”

When Icthlarin shut the door to Jahaan’s room, he leant back against the firm mahogany, his thoughts trying to catch up with him. Indeed, Ozan was still on this world - something the god of the underworld just knew. But how? Icthlarin never saw the man as a wight, but if indeed that was the fate that befell him, Sliske’s death would have released the man into his domain.

Something was off. Something was also off about Jahaan, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. There was just a smell around him, something about his usual scent that didn’t match.

Rubbing his temples, Icthlarin resolved to sleep on the matter, then locate Ozan in the morning. Perhaps by talking to him, Ozan could shed some light on the situation.

The next evening, Jahaan heard the swish of a teleport spell land outside his door and the faint mumblings of Icthlarin’s voice. When he spoke to the elves, he spoke in elven, so Jahaan had no idea what was being said.

But Jahaan didn’t care what they were talking about. All he could think about was if Icthlarin had brought company with him.

Scrambling to sit up in bed, Jahaan’s heart beat faster and faster, making a home inside of his throat. The anticipation was killing him.

Then, after one twist of the door handle, his heart threatened to burst.

Ozan walked through the door.

He was still a ghostly green, translucent in some places, with robes that seemed decayed and withered. In fact, he looked exactly the same as he did in Sliske’s chasm, though thankfully without the damage to his legs that Jahaan had inflicted.

Both men just stared at each other in disbelief for too long, debating the chance that the other was a mirage.

Eventually though, Ozan plucked up the courage to remark, “Wow, finally someone that looks worse than me.”

Jahaan practically choked on his own tears as he started to laugh. Just to hear Ozan’s voice again made all of this worth it. Every single memory he’d be forced to relive, every single injury he’d have to endure for the rest of his life… Ozan made it all worth it.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Jahaan stammered through the tears, desperately trying to wipe them away with his bedsheets.

“Neither can I,” Ozan laughed, nervously scratching the back of his head. He was never good with hospitals - they freaked him out, but he tried his best to hide that fact through a broad smirk. “Now, you aren’t going to break if I hug you, right?”

Grinning, Jahaan beckoned him over. But as soon as Ozan embraced him, the man recoiled suddenly, inhaling a sharp breath.

Jahaan froze. “Are you okay, Ozan?”

Gulping, Ozan’s hand slowly moved to gently rub his neck, taking a tentative step backwards. “Didn’t you feel that?”

“Feel… what?”

“That… shock,” Ozan cleared his throat, exhaling a shaky breath. Shaking his head, he tried to chuckle, “Maybe it’s the side effects of being dead?”

Jahaan forced a faint laugh, but he was unnerved by the scared look in his friend’s eyes.

The two talked for ages long after that, but Ozan sat firmly on the other side of the room, as far away from Jahaan as possible. For a man with no sense of personal space, it was rather concerning, but Jahaan refused to think too much about it. He had his best friend back - nothing else mattered.

“I just woke up back at the Barrows,” Ozan recalled. “I didn’t have that grip on me anymore - I had control again, free will. The others were there too, Ahrim and Dharok… all of them felt the same way. Sliske’s hold over us had gone.”

Jahaan replied, “I’m just confused… when Sliske died, you should have passed on, not be trapped on Gielinor.”

“Icthlarin said the same thing when he found us,” Ozan informed. “Said he had no idea why we were still here. He offered to take our souls to the afterlife though, if we wanted it, since we were already dead and all. Some of the Brothers are considering it.”

“What about you?” Jahaan tried not to sound nervous.

Fortunately, Ozan’s grin reassured him. “Oh I’m not going anywhere. A world without Ozan would be a very dreary place indeed.”

More guests visited him throughout his weeks in bedrest, but Ozan was the regular, bringing him books and sneaking Coal in to visit him when the healers weren’t looking. The man had gone back to the Wizards’ Tower and received a tearful reunion with Ariane, which warmed Jahaan’s heart. He and Ariane had shared their differences in the past, but she made Ozan happy, and that was all that mattered.

It took severe persuading from the city’s elders, but eventually, upon Seren’s insistence, Azzanadra was allowed to visit Jahaan. Not that the Mahjarrat was pleased at all with having to enter Seren's domain. In fact, he loathed the idea. But he felt a duty to Jahaan to at least visit him once. If the World Guardian can fight alongside him in a Mahjarrat Ritual, this was the least he could do.

But he didn’t stay long. In fact, as soon as he entered Jahaan's hospital room, he wanted to leave. Something was not quite right. There was a feeling, a pull, a familiar presence lingering… like a ghost trapped within the walls.

Azzanadra listened intently to the story of what happened after he was cast out of the labyrinth, trying not to let his stony features betray the trepidation he felt.

One part of the story stuck with him, however, threatening to bring his darkest theories to light.

“Which end of the Staff did he stab you with, again?” Azzanadra checked, biting on the inside of his cheek

“The bottom part,” Jahaan replied, “Thank the gods he did. If I got stabbed with those wing things on the top, well…”

It was as Azzanadra feared. He had seen the work of the Staff, the Siphon, first hand before. Memories of the Empty Throne Room and Zaros’ assassination by the Staff were still fresh in his mind, just like it happened yesterday. Zamorak had used the Staff to siphon power from Zaros into himself. Sliske must have intended to use it to extract Jahaan’s soul, but instead he made a fatal error.

Wahisietel did not want to visit Jahaan.

Jahaan understood. The wound was too fresh; he would not want an audience with the man who was effectively his half-brother’s murderer. If Wahisietel would accept him, Jahaan would visit him when he could, explain what happened, and apologise for the role he was forced to play.

It would take time, Azzanadra had told him. The Mahjarrat had visited Wahisietel in his Nardah home to find the place a wreck, and Wahisietel himself was in no fit state.

“Can you tell him...” Jahaan started to ask Azzanadra, but was unsure how to sum up everything he wanted to say in just one sentence. “Just… can you tell him I’d like to see him at some point, and that I’m sorry.”

The words would sound hollow to Wahisietel. ‘Sorry’? Would ‘sorry’ bring back the only family he’d had for generations?

Jahaan quite enjoyed his time confined to bed rest. For once in gods knew how long, there was no weight inside his chest, no looming shadow of Sliske to cloud over his mind. Responsibilities could take a back seat. He had earned his repose.

Of course, there was the issue of the elder gods’ ultimatum to prove that life was worth existing, but Jahaan decided he’d cross that bridge when he had to. In fact, from how he felt right now, Jahaan was rather content with never crossing that bridge. He’d been Gielinor’s hero enough for one lifetime - someone else could take over the role for all he minded.

Yes, the idea of retirement seemed pretty good right now…

...until Jahaan heard a disembodied laugh rattle through his mind.

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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[marshmallow-phd]

My Soul to Burn

Part of the EXO Demon Series

Genre: Demon AU

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Minseok

Summary: Unknown to the mortals, the world was plunging into chaos. But Minseok couldn’t care less. He was still able to take assignments, able to continue in collecting souls of the gullible. As long as he could do his job, he didn’t care what the angels or his boss were up to. Out stalking his next target, he met you, someone who could see him even when he chose to be invisible. At first, he shrugged you off, not interest in the mystery. But after another chance encounter, Minseok was intrigued. As your abnormality could have a part to play in the war against the angels, he was reluctantly keeping you close. With you as warm as he was cold, he tried to stay the terrifying demon while being haunted by Kris’ last words…

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I Final

**

You scrambled back in your cell, trying to put as much as distance between you and the terrifying angel. Too soon, the bars of the cage pressed into your back. All four of them entered the cage, two of them covering the only exit while the other to approached you. There wasn’t much of a fight that you could put up when two of them reached out and pulled you to your feet. The tight grips that were kept on your arms were impossible to break out of.

With one simple nod from the Protector that you assumed was in charge, a bright light filled the room and suddenly you were out of the basement and exposed out in the middle of a little field of dying flowers and random bushes. The most significant thing around was a worn down shack.

“Where the hell are we?” you demanded. Even though you asked the question, you had mostly assumed that you would be ignored.

“The balance must be restored,” the manhandler to your right replied.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, you’ve said that. A few times now. What does that have to do with why we are here?”

“Your soul is tainted,” the other guard answered. “It must be restored. All tainted souls must be restored.”

“Only then can the realm be cleansed,” the first one finished.

“Okay,” you inhaled deeply. “And how, exactly do you plan on doing that?”

The one that you assumed was the leader turned around to face you. His face was cold, expressionlist. Those light blue eyes were piercing through you, as if you were nothing more than a warped window altering his view of what was behind.

“In the sunlight,” he said, his voice coming out soft and smooth, like he was trying to calm a fussy child, “this place becomes a portal between this world and ours. But in the moonlight, it becomes a bridge to the other realm. When it opens, we will extract the chaotic energy from your soul and send it back where it came from.”

You gulped. “That sounds painful.”

“You will die.”

“What!” In a panic, you started to fight again, even more determined than ever to get away. The vices on your arms didn’t slip even a centimeter. “Why do I have to die?”

“The demon energy is what is keeping your soul in your body,” the fourth madman explained. “Once it is extracted, your soul will be restored to its proper place. You were never meant to live this long.”

You were in utter disbelief. Why did all of this have to happen to you? Your father should have just let you be when you were a child.

The leader turned his face up to the dark night sky. “When the moon is at its highest, the portal will open. And we will be closer to restoring the balance.”

**

It took them much longer than Minseok would have liked to track a Protector sent.He liked even less how he had to keep sniffing for it. The smell was a sickly sweet sort of scent, burning the inside of his nose and making the pit of his stomach churn.

But eventually they did find the scent. Amazingly, they found it only a few blocks away from his apartment building. You hadn’t made it very far before they picked you up. Which meant you had been with them for hours and he had no idea what they were doing to you. Ignoring the possibilities, they followed the smell as it grew in strength all the way to a new housing development.

“Why would they come here?” Tao asked as they walked through the neighborhood, only the streetlights and the moon above lighting their way.

“It’s the last place I would have thought to look,” Jongdae admitted.

Minseok had to agree. He would have stuck with the more industrial area of the city, the more cliche place to look. That meant these Protectors were smart. Well, then, Minseok would just have to be smarter.

“There.” Yixing caught all of their attention and pointed to one of the more complete houses. “Can you see it?”

He had to squint and really concentrate, but eventually Minseok could make it out. A slight shimmer surrounded the house. A barrier to make regular humans pass right on by it as if it didn’t exist at all.

“Let’s check it out.” Kris started for the front door, but Minseok picked up his speed, passing right by him without trying to look too eager. It didn’t really work, but he would pretend that it did.

Just as the others reached the porch, Minseok opened the unlocked door. Inside, he followed the scent, ignoring the stinging in his nose as he headed for the stairs leading down to the basement. His anticipation grew as he quietly made his way down the steps. But when he reached the bottom, the space was completely empty. No sign of you. No sign of the Protectors (beyond their scent). Nothing.

“Argh!” Minseok punched the space next to him, leaving a good fist-sized dent in the drywall.

“Was that entirely necessary?” Yixing scolded.

“Let him be, Xing,” Kris sighed. Surveying the room, he placed his hands on his hips. “They were definitely here at one point. It’s all concentrated here.”

“I think I found something!” Jongdae yelled. He was crouched down on the opposite side of the room, feeling the ground with his fingers.

Luhan was the first to him. “Was is it?”

“You don’t feel that?” Jongdae put a second hand down, stabling himself. “They teleported out of here. From this spot.”

“Can you track it?” Minseok asked desperately. Jongdae was the best at following that type of energy.

Jongdae nodded. “I think so. There were multiple Protectors, all teleporting at once and to the same place. The signature left is really strong.”

“Well, then, let’s go!” Minseok urged.

Yixing and Kris exchanged a look before the latter nodded. Shuffling closer together, everyone placed a hand on Jongdae. Darkness surrounded them and they left the unoccupied house behind.

Their final destination was off in a very familiar field. Minseok had a very bad feeling about this.

You were standing in the field about a hundred feet away, surrounded by the Protectors right outside the portal.

Kris grabbed both Minseok and Jongdae by the backs of their shirts, pulling them out sight and behind some very convenient bushes while everyone else followed suit.

“Do not do anything stupid,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

Minseok ripped Kris’ hand away. “Like you’re one to talk about being rational.”

“Stop it,” Luhan hissed. He risked peeking over the bushes. “They seem to be waiting for something. I thought the portal only worked in the sun?”

“That’s to go to their realm,” Yixing clarified. “In the moonlight, it leads to ours.”

“Since when do we have portals?” Minseok turned to look at the bookworm. “We can just go there whenever we want, we don’t have the same restrictions they do.”

“Yeah, but the Orpheus trial can be conducted for a damned soul, too,” Kris added.

“Why would anyone want to voluntarily go after one?” Tao sneered. “They’re in our realm for a reason.”

“People do crazy things when they’re in love,” Kris replied, sneaking a peak at Minseok.

“Why are you looking at me?” Minseok snapped.

Kris just shook his head, ignoring his question. “So, we need a plan. Obviously, we can’t just rush in there and hope for the best.”

Sounded good to Minseok. Six demons against four protectors. Seemed like decent odds.

“Maybe we should just watch and see what they plan on doing with her,” Jongdae suggested. “Maybe they’ll just do whatever they want to do and let her go.”

“No!”

At the sound of your scream, Minseok jumped to his feet. Two of the protectors were dragging you towards the door. He was split. Were they just going to throw you into his realm? If that was the case, then he could just go get you and avoid a fight. Then again, he’d like to actually have permission to beat the crap out of someone.

“Help! Someone help! Minseok!”

Your cry for him made him freeze. You were… asking for him to come save you? He couldn’t move one way or the other, not even his head was working right. What was this strange tug in his chest?

“Minseok?” Jongdae whispered.

The fight left you at the sign of no one coming. You fell to your knees just outside the shack, where the door had gone from being a rotting wooden barrier to cold white marble.

“Don’t worry, dear,” the head Protector told you. “Death will not hurt. And you will be going to our realm. You’ve lived your life well.”

Minseok’s head snapped up. Death?

Sensing danger, Luhan reached out to him. “Minseok, don’t-”

Too late. Minseok jumped over the bushes, running straight for you.

**

The grass poked at the opened scrapes that had been created when you’d fallen to your knees. You hadn’t meant to call out for Minseok. The panic coursing through you had forced it out. It was pointless. He’d probably rejoice once he heard the news that you were gone. You’d finally be out of his hair for good.

Pulling you back up to your feet, the Protectors moved you closer to the portal, the leader taking out a pure silver sword from the sheath at his hip. He lifted it up and you closed your eyes, accepting your fate.

At least you had a good life. Nothing extraordinary, but still good.

But the swing never came. Something knocked you over, sending you the ground as a pair of arms wrapped around you, taking in most of the impact. Your eyes opened on instinct and you gasped.

“Minseok?”

He groaned, gently pushing you off of him while he sat up. Frantically, he grabbed your shoulders, his eyes searching every inch of you. “Are you hurt?”

Too much in shock that he was actually here and concerned about your wellbeing, all you could do was shake your head.

With a hard shove, he repositioned so you so he was now between you and the Protectors. “Stay behind me,” he commanded. You were too frightened to do anything but obey. He kept his own concentration on the enemy in front of him. “Keep away from her!”

“Balance must be restored,” the leader said, unaffected by the turn of events. You were getting really sick and tired of hearing that. “All the others have been cleansed. She is one of two left.”

“Yeah, well, this is one soul that’s going to stay tainted,” Minseok defied.

Crack!

You jumped at the sudden noise and then your eyes widened. Five others appeared on your side of the field. Only the blonde and Yixing were recognizable to you. The other three you’d never seen before, but it was safe to assume they were demons like Minseok and the others.

Then chaos ensued.

No words were exchanged before the two groups collided. The fights were mostly one on one, except for the leader, who was easily fending off Yixing and the tall demon. Minseok hung back with you, making sure that none of them got past his friends and had a shot at you.

You couldn’t really concentrate on the fight. Your eyes were trained on Minseok’s back. It was like an out of body experience. He was actually here. He’d really come for you. And he was protecting you. But he hated you, didn’t he? Was this just him following orders?

Without tearing his eyes away from the fight, he reached back, feeling the ground until his hand came to rest on yours. You gaped at the connection, becoming more confused than ever when he even gave you a reassuring squeeze.

A high pitched screech yanked you out of the labyrinth of thoughts. The short brown haired demon had managed to gain the upper hand against the Protector and punched his hand through the Protector’s chest. The scream itself only lasted for a second or so before the Protector crumbled away into a white powder that was scattered in the wind. The demon then turned to join the blonde one in taking on his opponent.

Eventually, all the Protectors were taken out, save for one. The leader. In the fight, he’d lost the sword, turning instead to use the silver arrows that originated from his wrists. He was holding his own a bit too well. The tallest demon took a small step out of the fight, glancing at Minseok before motioning to the sword.

Nodding, Minseok said over his shoulder, “Stay here.”

“But-”

It was useless. He was already scrambling to the sword, stealthily swiping it up while the others distracted the Protector. Rounding the group, he crept up behind the Protector and skewered him with his weapon. Just like the others, he let out a scream cut all too short as he crumbled away, dust blowing away in the breeze.

Shaking, you rose to your feet. “Is it over?”

“It is,” the tall one answered you. “For now.”

Minseok threw the sword to the side and stalked through the group, shoving them aside as he made his way to you. Before you could react or step away, he threw his arms around you, trapping you into a bone crushing hug.

[senderidiumforuncensored]

A little snippet from a sci fi novel I'm working on

    The passenger vessel cruised along through space, beginning to close in on its one-week voyage to the Talsayan system. The lounge deck aboard the ship was buzzing with xenos from different species all rich enough to afford a trip on a ship this grand, taking advantage of the luxury couches and the fizzing, gourmet drinks handed to them by the caterers in their sleek, shiny company uniforms.

    Kyril sat on one of the couches, one foot up on the glass table in front of him as his other hung down to the floor. His large, gold eyes were set on the holographic newsfeed in front of him, projected by the band around his wrist. He adjusted how he sat in the seat, pushing himself further back into the cushions. The couches were awkward to sit in, being much taller than the young Zandeesian was used to. At least the ship would finally be docking in a few hours, which meant Kyril wouldn’t have to share his cabin with his annoying turd of a brother, and most importantly—the Virtual Entanglement connection was finally somewhat stable, and Kyril could catch up on all the news and gossip he missed.

    Kyril’s eyes scanned the holograph, reading the boxy and uniform Zandeesian letters as two of his former classmates fought and insulted each other over conflicting political opinions. He hid his smirk with one of his sleeves as he read over it, itching to confront them as to why they both were wrong and why his opinion was the superior one, but as soon as his fingers reached to open the keyboard, Nyx’s familiar hand grasped hold of his arm.

    Kyril let out a yelp, “Nyx--!”

    “--Kyril!” Nyx bounced on his heels with an excited grin, “Kyril—they just re-opened the souvenir shop! Do you want to go in?”

    Kyril yanked his arm out of Nyx’s grasp and shot him a painful glare, “Ah, no?”

    Nyx let out a groan, “Pleaaase! They have this gun that shoots lasers that I really want, and it’s only sixty credits!”

    “Mom gave each of us three hundred credits, what happened to yours?”

    Nyx giggled, his gaze falling to his feet, “... Virtual reality games...”

Kyril huffed, “Then that’s your issue, not mine.” He turned his attention back to his screen, growling as he realized he had to find the political post again.

    Nyx groaned and stomped a foot against the floor, clenching his fists at his sides, “Pleaaaase! Some stupid T’setsei kid was talking about getting it, and I have to get it before he does!” He begged, practically falling to his knees as he grasped onto the fabric of Kyril’s shirt and yanked it down with him.

Kyril tore his shirt from Nyx’s grasp, glaring at him as he fixed it back into place.

    “Kyril, please! Kyril, please! Kyril, please!” Nyx begged, bouncing on his heels with each word.

    “They don’t have more than one?”

    Nyx creased his nose, “No...”

    Kyril let out the loudest, most exasperated sigh known in the galaxy, and as soon as he began to stand, Nyx perked up and stared at him with wide eyes and a cheesy smile.

    Kyril flicked his wrist and the holograph disappeared back into his wristband. Heated political discussions with other Zandeesian teenagers would have to wait.

    Nyx hopped along the sleek floors of the lounge deck, Kyril lazily following behind with embarrassed glances to the xenos around him. The souvenir shop sat just between two hallways, displaying multi-species clothing with a vast choice of designs and colours in its windows, along with little useless trinkets, some subtly stereotyping the races in the Confederacy.

    The two Zandeesians were greeted by soft music that seeped through the speakers above, along with the rows of shelves filled with stupid little items only an idiot would buy, at least in Kyril’s eyes.

    Nyx broke into a sprint, almost knocking over a rotating jewel display as he made a sharp turn towards the toys. Kyril stayed by the entrance, lazily sifting through the corny, multi-species shirts hung up on one of the circular racks. They were a bit too big for a Zandeesian, with zippers under the sleeves to accommodate anyone with over two arms. Right smack in the middle was the ship’s company name, repeated in each of the eight languages recognized in the Confederacy, Zandeesian being a solid third.

    Kyril scoffed, dropping the shirt from his grasp as he wondered if they managed to sell any of these atrocious things. He turned to the next shirt when his eyes glanced over the cashier as she was tossing clothing hangers underneath of the counter.

    A Zandeesian, with her blue complexion and short, slender built indicating she was of the stryxil ethnicity, with a small, pointed snout, large, orange, almond eyes, and cheeks freckled with bioluminescence. The sight of her put Kyril into a panic, his hair beginning to puff with static before he managed a few calming breaths.

    It just had to be a Zandeesian, and a cute girl, too, and he was only in here to buy Nyx some stupid toy gun.

    Embarrassing.

    Kyril was hardly that mundane.

    A quick glance around the shop set an idea into his mind: if he bought the most expensive item here, it would take a bit of the edge off the humility. He’d look important, rich, and with the most expensive item being one of the T’setseian “healing geodites,” he’d even look culturally knowledgeable.

    A few quick steps and Kyril was at the locked display case, his tail flicking at his feet as he studied the geodites. An array of colourful crystals stared back at him, glistening in the display lights as they sat on their silky, cushioned pillows. He finally settled on one—the inside littered with black crystals that glistened with specks of white and purple, resembling somewhat of a galaxy. The label read that it was for “spiritual cleansing”, and that it would cost almost the remainder of his credits if added up with the price of Nyx’s stupid toy.

    Kyril turned on his back toe, waving to the cashier, “Excuse me, can you...?” He was at a loss for words, never really having to get something out of a display case before. The cashier understood regardless, and trotted over. Her eyes gave Kyril a quick glance up and down before a polite smile spread on her face, “I apologize, we don’t let people touch them unless they’re buying--”

    “--I am buying.” Kyril narrowed his eyes at her, and the cashier’s expression shifted to surprise.

    “Really?” She pursed her lips, “...If you say so...”

    She pressed a thumb to the bioscanner on the case, and slid the case open after it beeped, “Which one would you like?”

    “The...” Kyril paused for a moment, reading the label, “The spiritual cleansing one.” He kept talking as she took the little geodite along with its pillow into the palm of her hand, “I like to collect them. I’m just fascinated by the cultures of other xenos. We can learn so much from them.”

    “You must be very intelligent, then.” The cashier mentioned.

    Kyril chuckled and laid his twin-ears flat against his head, “I did get the highest grade in my advanced sciences class... I just wrote a thesis about how teleportation may be possible through the bending of reality and hopping from one fold to the other. Nothing too serious... for me, at least.”

    The cashier gave an acknowledging murmur as the two walked back to the checkout counter. She set the geodite in a little, clear giftbox, “Is that everything?”

    Kyril glanced to the side as Nyx was bounding up to them with the laser gun in one hand, its packaging seemingly more expensive than the toy itself. He stood on the tips of his two front toes, sliding the gun towards the cashier when his eyes caught onto the geodite in its fancy casing.

    Nyx snickered, “Why’re you getting a geodite? I thought you said they were stupid!”

    Kyril froze up, bioelectricity running up his spine, “I never said that!” He answered, hoping Nyx would get the hint.

    It flew right by Nyx’s head.

    “You said they were stupid, and the T’setsei were stupid for believing rocks had healing powers!”

    The cashier struggled to keep her face straight as she checked out their items.

    “I never said that!” Kyril snapped at him, which only made Nyx’s mischievous giggling worse,    

“Yes you did--” He let out a pained yelp as Kyril stomped down on Nyx’s foot.

    “No I didn’t!”

    They were interrupted by a beep sounding from the counter, and Kyril cleared his throat before inserting his payment card into the slot.

    “It’s fine,” She said as she bagged their items, “My siblings make things up about me, too.”

    Kyril knew it was an attempt to make him feel better, but all it did was humiliate him even further. The cashier smiled and held the bag out to Kyril, who snatched it from her grasp and quickly thanked her. Without another word, he turned and lead Nyx out of the door, completely humiliated with static filling the air surrounding him.

    Nyx struggled to keep up as Kyril stormed down the hallway towards the cabins, reaching out to grab at the bag, “Kyril, my gun! Can I have my gun?”

    Kyril really couldn’t wait to finally get off this cruise ship.

If you actually got this far, thank you so much aaah ^^ it means a lot. I hope you enjoyed it!

[thetravelersjournal]

Gear Foxx- Chapter 9

These Aren’t Chapter Titles!

About 90 degrees from here…

Zonic sipped from the warm cup in his hands, trying to savor his break. While he enjoyed his job, the task of watching all the other Sonics’ in existence could get pretty tiring. He looked out of his window to view the city of Zobotropolis, the alternate counterpart of Mobotropolis, which resided in the No Zone. No Zone ran perpendicular through all other zones, and was the central hub for the Zone Cops, whose job was to make sure the multiverse was safe. Any threats to the Cosmic Interstate- the highway between zones- and the peace between them were handled by the Zone Cops, Zonic included.

Zonic reminded himself of this as Zector burst into the break room, shouting at the top of his lungs, “We got a problem!”

Zonic sighed, putting down his coffee, “What is it Zector? Did you incinerate the copy machine again?”

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault! It tried to kill me!” the crocodile huffed.

“What, by giving you paper cuts?”

“Very funny. Look, this is important!”

“What kind of important?” Zonic asked, seeing the seriousness in his friend’s eyes.

“Four zones just popped into existence.”

   Zonic stared at the screens with a mixture of disbelief and awe. Within the span of his ten-minute break, four different zones appeared out of nowhere, fitting nice and snug between all the other realities the multiverse held. He watched as he saw an Amy from one of these dimensions continually swing a hammer at a weasel with a gun.

“Is there a source?” Zonic asked, getting to the heart of the matter.

“I’m pulling it up now,” said Zespio, who had seen the situation unfold at the same time Zector had. He fiddled for a moment with the monitor’s controls, before pulling up a moving image of a teenage fox talking to a mongoose. Zonic’s eyes bulged for a moment.

“Him again!” he declared, covering his mouth with his hand, “What happened exactly?”

“One moment, they weren’t there. The next, our monitors are blaring about unauthorized zone hopping. One of the realities has already collapsed in on itself, another is drifting away from this multiverse by unknown means, and the other two seemed to have stabilized. The residual energy from all of this is coming from him,” Zespio pointed to the screen.

Zonic stared at the image of Gear Foxx on his monitor, “Are you positive he appeared around the same time that Officer Zear went M.I.A.?”

“I’m sure I’m sure. At any rate, the Prime Zone has calmed down- for the most part- but it seems like something tore a small hole in space and time to make those four zones. How did they even do it anyhow? Have you ever heard of a zone being created out of nothing before?” Zector asked, shaking his head.

Zonic furrowed his brow and stared at the screens for a moment before answering, “No, I haven’t. Inform Lieutenant Zally of this at once.”

“And the zone hopper?”

“Nothing we can do until we’ve made absolutely sure the two remaining zones are stable,” Zespio explained, “We’ll have to leave them for now, and hope they return back to their own zone.”

“What about the one drifting away?” Zonic asked as Zector left.

“Not under our jurisdiction. Let the Zone Cops of that multiverse handle it themselves.”

Zonic frowned a little at Zespio’s cold demeanor, but otherwise kept himself professional. He continued to stare at the monitors, hoping he could find some insight as to how exactly this happened.

The week following everything that happened in Robotropolis, Mina remained in a constant state of excitement, running around at near Sonic speeds. With her mom and the rest of the robot Mobians- Robians, people had been calling them- back in Knothole, it seemed that the dark clouds that shifted over her head every now and then had permanently dispersed. Unfortunately, these same clouds slowly started drifting in my direction, especially when Nate tried explaining the reasons why time and space shifted.

“So did everybody just experience that wild fever dream, or...?” I asked as we walked back to Knothole, right after rescuing the Robians from Robotropolis.

“Yeah, that was weird…,” Mina shivered, “It was like living someone else’s life. I can barely remember most of it.”

“Same,” I agreed, before turning to Nate, “What do you think happened?”

“I’m not sure…,” Nate said, stroking his beard in thought.

“Do you think it was Ro-butt-nik?” Sonic asked, striding along toward us.

“No, these rifts were too short-lived. They couldn’t be used to his advantage. The best I can do is study this once we get back to Knothole,” Nate answered.

And sure enough, within the week Nate had already come up with an answer. It was nearing the end of a class lecture on Acornium, the one-hundred thirty-seventh element on the periodic table.

“Hey, Gear. Do you think you could help me with some of this stuff? It’s kind of confusing,” Mina whispered over to me.

“Mina, he hasn’t even finished the lecture yet.”

“I know, but-!” Mina started, making me sigh.

“Yeah, I’ll help,” I gave in, trying to catch what Nate was saying to the class about homework assignments. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mina frown.

“Hey, are you alright?” she asked, confusing me. Before I could answer, however, the bell rang, and as I started packing up my stuff, Nate called me up to the front of the classroom.

“What’s up, Mr. Morgan?” I asked formally, since some of my other classmates were still filing out of the room.

“I’ve hypothesized part of an answer to our strange dreams we had back in Robotropolis. Do you remember any of yours?”

I paused, thinking. “Nope, nothing,” I supplied.

Nate nodded solemnly, “I thought so. When these dreams occurred, a large crack in time appeared.”

I looked at him in astonishment, “Um… for something so important you seem to be taking this very calmly.”

Nate chuckled, waving his hand, “Don’t worry, time has a way of repairing itself- to speak as if it had feelings, it doesn't like being torn apart. It should mend itself back together within a few weeks. I’m more concerned that it did this because it was trying to restore itself from a previous rift.”

“Wait, it fractured itself because it was trying to clean up its own rupture? Like when you have a loose string in your clothes and you try to pull it out, but it just causes the string to become even more unraveled?”

“Not the best example, but yes, something like that. Whatever caused the initial fissure made time erupt trying to fix itself, which led to those different timelines coming into existence.”

“Do you know what caused the initial crack?” I asked.

At this, a dark sadness filled Nate’s eyes. Nothing else changed about him- not his posture, his emotion, or his smile- but I knew the next thing he said wasn’t the complete truth.

“No. I tried asking other people around the world if anything strange happened before these rifts, with young Mile’s and Rotor’s help. No one from Station Square, the Floating Island, or anywhere else had an answer. The only other thing I know is that these rifts seemed to have developed into their own separate zones, and are now floating through the multiverse somewhere.”

“Alright,” I said, feeling I shouldn’t ask in depth if he wasn’t willing to give a straight-up answer, “Have you told the King and Sonic yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Then… why tell me first?” I inquired.

Once again, the dark clouds seeped into Nate’s eyes, but they disappeared after a moment. He sighed, as if he had finally lost an argument with himself, and spoke.

“I-,” he began to say, but at that moment the bell for next period rang.

“Uh-oh, I’m late! Can we catch up later?” I said, turning to leave.

Nate breathed what seemed to be a sigh of relief, and waved me off, “Of course. And remember the homework assignment is due in two days.”

“You got it. Bye!” I said as I dashed out.

But two days later never came. I was reading a book under a tree near the edge of the great forest when I heard a great commotion from the center of town. I saw Mina run up toward me looking slightly hysterical.

“Gear, there you are!” she cried frantically, waving her arms around in panic. A small dust cloud came up behind her as a gust of wind blew the dirt into my face, making me cough. It still astounded me that Mina was almost as fast as Sonic was, and had never bothered telling me. Then again, I never told her about my ability to teleport, so I suppose that made us even in a way.

“What’s going on?” I choked out, still trying to dislodge some dust from my throat.

“Sonic, Princess Sally, and Mr. Nate all went to Robotropolis to try to free the Overlanders there!” she pointed over the crowd of people that were congesting the square. I peered over the tops of dozens of heads, discovering that she was right- a long line of Overlanders were following Sally and Sonic to the castle.

“I don’t see Nate though,” I said, turning back to Mina.

“I know, that’s what I came to tell you about, actually…” Mina got quiet for a moment, staring determinedly at the ground, “I talked to Sonic as they came into Knothole… apparently Mr. Nate got captured by Robotnik… and roboticized…”

“What?!” I yelled, causing several people from the crowd to turn around and look at me.

“Calm down, I’m sure that Sonic and the others can get him back, right? They were able to rescue not only the Robians but also all the Overlanders that Robotnik had trapped in Robotropolis, so I’m sure… I’m sure that…” Mina’s voice fell flat. She wasn’t sure herself, but she was trying to stay positive. My shoulders sagged.

“I- I need to process this…” I said, turning away.

“O-oh, okay…” Mina said hesitantly. I started walking away, pushing through the crowd towards the direction of my house.

I thought back to me and Nate’s conversation back in the classroom. He had been hiding something from me then, but what? Why would he go back to the city, when he knew it was so dangerous? It took me a moment to realize that in the short time I had known him,  I had come to look up to Nate. In the few weeks he had spent as my teacher, he taught me a lot. Still, the man was a mystery to me, and it seemed as if he knew more about me- or suspected more about me- than I knew about myself. I stopped at my front door, my gaze fixed on a blade of grass rubbing against my boot. Just who was Nate Morgan? And what was he to me?

After some time, I finally looked up, only to discover a small white sheet of paper sticking in between the slit of the door. I carefully pulled it out, cautiously opening it, as if it were to explode at any given moment.

It was a small letter, addressed to me. The note was in no way remarkable, except for the words it contained. “Dear Gear,” the note read, “You have most likely already heard that I went back to Robotropolis, and you are probably wondering why I would go back, when you and the others risked your lives for mine the first time around. There was something I didn’t tell you when last we talked. When you asked me what had caused time to rip apart, I told you I didn’t know.

“But I did. The truth was that I wasn’t sure how you would react if I told you- especially if you knew what I am about to do. Whatever caused time to tear stemmed from the two of us, while we were in Robotropolis. If you had not been there to take down the energy dome, I would have had to do so. Unlike you, however, I do not think I would have survived.

“I am still not entirely sure why this chain of events happened, why time took offense to all of this. Did you know this would happen? There has been a strange aura encompassing you that I noticed upon our first meeting together. Extraordinary things are heading your way, but it seems this is the end of the road for me. I thank you for the courage you displayed in the city, but now I must face this fear alone. If I do not, I am afraid of what will happen to the timestream.

“Stay strong, and full of hope. I’m sure that if- no, when- the time comes, we will meet again. Sincerely, Nate Morgan.”

I stared silently at the false promise at the end of the letter. Nate was gone- I wanted to believe otherwise, remind myself that he could still be saved- but something was telling me that it was already over for him. It wasn’t despair that was telling me this, or a lack of conviction, but the solid, harsh truth, weakening my knees and causing me to sink to the ground. It was only now that I realized what Nate was to me- a mentor, a teacher, but most importantly, a friend.

The Overlanders stayed for a week, before finally moving to Station Square.

I woke up screaming, just like every other night I had tried falling asleep this week. My mind was taking advantage of recent events, and now Nate joined Mina in whatever torture I had to sit by and watch them go through. A part of me was now thankful that I had built my house a little further away from anyone else. I sat up in bed, yawning. I scratched my chest, feeling the bandages I had wrapped around my ribs to hide my brand. I looked at the clock, surprised to see that I had slept later than usual. It was only five-thirty in the morning, which meant I had gotten about an hour or so more sleep. I got up, wondering what I could do to occupy my time on my day off from both school and work.

I heard a knock on my door, startling me. Curious to see who else would be up this early in the morning, I lazily opened the door, coming face to face with a worried Mina.

“Are you okay Gear? I heard screaming,” she asked hesitantly.

“Better question; why are you here at the crack of dawn?” I retorted, yawning.

“Huh? I asked you if you could help me with homework, and you said now would be the best time!” Mina argued grumpily. She must have been just as tired as I was, because her hair was a little unkempt, and dark lines circled her eyes.

“What? When did I agree to that?”

“Yesterday, when the substitute teacher was handing back test grades! Don’t you remember?”

I strained my mind, indeed remembering that me and Mina had had a conversation about schoolwork yesterday. The problem was that I had been so tired from lack of sleep that I hadn’t paid as much attention to the discussion as Mina had.

I sighed, “I did, didn’t I? Well, why don’t you come in, I guess?”

“Okay, but… again, what was the screaming about? And what’s with the bandages?” Mina inquired, pointing to my chest.

“Crap,” I thought, leaving the door and rushing over to my closet. “Sorry, I’ll put a shirt on,” I yelled. I reached for a solid black tee hanging up and slipped it over my head before running back. Then, avoiding her second question, I answered her first, “Just had a nightmare, was all. Woke up screaming.”

It seemed for a moment that Mina had caught on to my diversion. But instead, she said, “Must’ve been some nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Maybe later,” I said, finally inviting her in. I reached for my backpack, which was sitting next to the door, “So, what did you want to go over?”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Gear?”

“I’m fine Mina, now what-,” I started to say, but one look from Mina was all it took for me to shut up. She didn’t have an angry look on her face, but sadness drew down the lines of her smile.

“You’re not fine, Gear. You haven’t been since we left Robotropolis.”

I couldn’t really argue with this, so instead I pulled up a chair and sat down. I stared at the edge of the table standing next to me, listening to Mina as she sat down across from me.

“Are the nightmares about what happened after we rescued the Robians?” Mina asked, “Is that why you’ve been looking so sad lately?”

“No, the nightmares are… unrelated. Have I been looking that miserable recently?”

“Yes, maybe even, um… depressed.”

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I contemplated what she had said. It was true that I had been down in the dumps lately, but I had just chalked that up to Nate’s absence. What other reason was there to be down?

“I… I noticed that your parents didn’t come back with the rest of the Robians… what happened to them? If you don’t mind me asking…”

And somehow, Mina defined the problem before I could come up with one. It made sense, too. Mina had her mom back after so long… was I jealous? Perhaps, but the undeniable fact was that I didn’t have parents of my own- and a large part of me really wished I did.

Nate’s words came floating back to me from within my mind, “... I have a feeling some of your closer friends may have a right to know who you really are.” There was no way I was telling Mina my past, not yet at least. But she was my friend, and I needed to tell her something. My fists dug into my pant legs, and I finally spoke.

“I don’t have any,” I sighed out, relaxing my hands, “and I guess looking at everyone else get their family back…” I suddenly stopped as a tear rolled down my cheek. Was I really crying? I now noticed just how dry my throat was. Mina remained silent as she got up, strode over and hugged me. The hug was awkward, since I was sitting down, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

“I just wish I had a family,” I finally croaked, blinking away more angry tears, “Why… why does life have to be so cruel?” I already knew the answer to the question, but I couldn’t help asking anyway.

“I don’t know,” Mina said, tears somehow welling up in her eyes as well. But I knew why. It was because life didn’t care. If it did, I never would have been created in the first place.

(Another small side-note, continuity-wise, Chaos Knuckles never happened in this timeline.)

Read the Beginning!- Prologue

Previous Chapter <—> Next Chapter

Gear belongs to me.

Mina, Zonic, Nate Morgan and others belong to SEGA, Archie(?) or Ken Penders.

[whenisitnottimeforbed]

Unscheduled Change in Procedure

So I wrote this for @koreanrage but I didn’t know it wasn’t going to show up for anyone else, and I know it’s not what I usually write(I’ve only done Sleepy Hollow fics up to this point) but I’m a bit dry as far as that well is concerned and among other things, this incited my inner writer so, I present to you something I’ve been working on. Or at least a peace of it. A Clintasha domfic

"What? Why are you making that face?" Clint snorted a bit, yanking a shaft from a body. While the head of this, an incendiary bolt, was used up on the half charred remains of a 6'10" monster of a man, the reinforced, double folded titanium shaft was still quite usable. Rubbing the edge of it, where a bit of cooked flesh had seared to the alloy, he reached over his shoulder to load it into his mechanized quiver, watching his partner as she rolled her eyes at him.

"I thought we agreed no more ending the exchanges with explosives?" She lifted a dead man with her foot, rolling him to his side. Beneath him was her knife, damaged and seared from the blast and thereby rendered useless. Letting the corpse fall back over, Natasha dipped down to scoop up some concrete rubble and walked downhill on the precariously leaning floor to a wall with so big a piece removed a bus might be able to drive through unhindered. Were they not on the twelfth story. She turned and rested her elbows back on part of the hole that reached up to her waist watching the Hawk pick through the wreckage they had wrought together for his recyclables.

"I counted 15 knives and 45 bullets loosed." He smiled, pointing another scavenged shaft at her teasingly, "you were out of ammo."

"12, 13, 9, 2-"  Natasha nodded at the varying array of guns littering the floor under, beside, in the hands of, or strewn around the dozens of neutralized enemies, announcing the remaining magazines. “And you don’t ‘loose’ a bullet or a knife.” Clint knew there was no need to check for error.

"So, you were going to be able to grab those from where? What was the plan to get out of that pit- rocket up onto the ceiling?" He tipped his head toward a collapsed piece of floor where the blackened floor indicated the arrowhead had detonated near.

"You don't think I could have taken those eight guys? Really?"

"I think you were being a body-hog; when we're not with the team, I'm not a- we don't have to be 'heroes', just agents. Besides, I'm not allowed to use my toys just because you don't want to get new knives?" Clint had to cut her off, walking over to her and resting on his own elbows, looking out passed their concrete barrier over the dilapidated and abandoned looking buildings that extended for blocks and blocks in this direction.

"New knives are always better. What I don't enjoy is this red mist that hangs around.  I'm just- ugh-  coating my lungs and my suit- not to mention my hair." She smiled, scoffing, turning her head out into cold air and watching her exhales condense.

"Ha. How can you tell?"

"You can't smell it? Come on, Beethoven." She smiled, turning back to face him, where even with her unheightened sense of smell, she was more than close enough to whiff the scent of his physical exertion, the oil that lubricated his bow and bowstring, and every so often when the small breeze allowed it, his breath. He seemed to watch her for a moment before he tipped on one elbow leaning toward her, resting his nose in her lightly frazzled curls and inhaling, his eyes closing.

"Cherry-" he quietly announced, beyond ruby locks and into her ear, "Almond. Gunpowder. Iron..."

"-Blood." She corrected him, standing back up and pulling her head away from his, slowing as she took more steps away. It was a small feat mentally forcing her hand to keep from straying to her ear where, somehow, his breath still tickled her, "And viscera. If you have to use it, use it when we're in the open, or when you're solo."

"Hey, I'm down one sense, I'm not a dog- but, I  did get you a window." He chuckled rubbing the edge of the blasted wall-hole as though it were a fine piece of craftsmanship.

"Don't expect me to praise that," Nat gave him an eyebrow and a smile as she moved backwards, "Not after what you did to the stairs, Handyman." Taking a small hop, she leapt from the precipice that was the threshold to this room where steps would have been, and fell about a story down. Where there had once been glass that she might have landed on, there was now an opening and she straighted herself through the whole, to descend half a floor more to the leaning building that this one was now tipped against. The black leather clad woman crouched on impact and slid down the roof of this structure as it was forced at an even less stable angle, getting further and further away. Clint was right behind her, though instead of allowing the slide, he pushed off to drop through a hole not very far away in this roof. He fell inside, and watched her form drop outside a most still transparent pane of glass. It was officially a race.

Jumping off some of the crumbled roof rubble, Hawkeye used some of the exposed fire sprinkler piping and swung himself up over a partially blocked doorway, letting himself slide to the end of the tiled hall where there was a staircase with a few sets missing. He jumped with loud clangs from handrail to handrail down the hole at the center of the spiral. In response, he heard some glass break about a floor lower than him. Chancing it, he leapt from where he was to the floor and ducked out of a opening created by the tipped building's bricks no longer being able to line up in proper stacks. There she was waiting for him,

"Taking your sweet time?" she turned, walking toward the sounds of populace a few alleys down.

"Thought I'd enjoy the scenic route- why, you got somewhere to be?" He followed her.

"You know me- just that wonderful 'home sweet home'."

"Yes, and so big what with only the bed, fridge, chair, and closet taking up space."

"Minimalism."

"Right, yeah, of course, sure."

"Just open the jet."

They'd made quick and purposeful work of getting outside the small, mostly abandoned city, out where the forest began, which is where they'd parked the secretive Quinjet. Clint obliged, clicking the remote control that opened the hold so she could walk in. As she went, she clicked the appropriate switches to get the vehicle ready to be started up.

Once seated in their chairs, both began to click about, hitting buttons, raising bars, turning dials, and checking readouts silently in the specified order. With the turbines starting up, they'd have been up in the air in no time at all, were it wasn't for the sound of voices. Clint, of course, only noticed after he saw Natalie freeze, clearly concentrating on her auditory sense before leaning forward to peer back through the side of her window. He stood too when he heard the distinctive pop of a gun.

"What are they doing here?" Nat sat back down quickly, trying to finish up her half of the launch sequence, "How'd find us out?"

"Better question is why would they be chasing us? Didn't we just get rid of the biggest source of trouble they had? Can't we just be the heroes for once?" Behind them were not the uniforms, body armor, or automatic firearms of a rouge rebel crime faction, but plain clothes and improvised weapons of average citizens and townspeople.

"Wait, look-" she stopped him, and both of them noticed that there were two forms clearly ahead of the mob, one with short white hair, and the other with longer red. Small forms. Visually assessable at eight and five years of age probably, leading the flood of angry faces. Clint looked while both he and Natasha momentarily froze, at the larger form- the boy with the white hair, and two big, adrenaline fueled eyes looked back at him. He stared into them and he saw a look he had encountered before, but had felt unsettled by until he saw a child so young giving it to him. He could traits as if they were listed in writing on his head- anger, desperation. The terror of facing death.

"Let's go." Natasha brought him from his trance and he looked away for only a moment to help her try to get going, but glanced back for the boy and saw nothing. Instead, now he too could hear what she had listened to earlier.

"--Witch!"

"--Demons!"

"--Kill the mutants!"

"--They're a curse!"

"Wait! Wait!"

Both of them snapped around toward the voice at the Cargo hold- the boy had crawled up onto it, pushing the girl he was clinging to further in.

"Nuh-uh-" Natasha got up quickly to relieve them of their stowaways, the turbines raising in volume and speed. The boy could read her face and posture.

"T-Take my sister, please- just her! Up in the air with you! I'll catch up and take her back!" He pushed the little girl further in, a voice accented in the Russian of the land but with an otherwise spotless record in terms of grammar and vernacular. The female child sat stiff, nearly fetal, eyes so paniced and afraid they might have belonged to a rabbit in its final hour, the chase lost. She pinched her small fingers into her brother's jacket sleeve, her knuckles and nails still somehow paler than the rest of her.

"No-" Nat answered him curtly as she moved back to shoo them off and around the side while Clint began the takeoff sequence allowing for a slight foot-high hover, turning the hold door another direction. Once the kids were off, some time could be bought if they faced the crowd.

The young boy turned from this rock to look back to the hard place and caught sight of a barrel point toward him and his sister. In a flash that was quicker than Nat expected, as fast as the sound of the shot, he seemed to teleport to the girl, pushing her back further inside the jet. Natalie's eyes shot up to the aimed weapon immediately, but her peripheral vision and linked reflexes forced her to reach out and catch the red headed girl by the shirt before the girl fell back on her head. She wasn't quite quick enough to catch the brother before the bullet passed through his leg and lodged in the floor near the cockpit.

"Nat!" Clint shouted back. She'd pulled out a gun from the handy wall compartment, walked passed the groaning boy who cringed as she passed, and to the edge of the cargo door where she slammed her fist on the button to close it. Through the squishing window, she began opening fire on the crowd, turning them away while Clint tipped the jet up and away from the mob, forcing all passengers inside to stumble or slide toward the cockpit, and quickly took off. There was the distinct sound of bullets being blocked by the jet's fuselage for a few seconds before the maximum range of hand weapons was exceeded.

Moaning and whining, hissing through his teeth and trying hard not to cry outright, the boy's tears began pooling on the floor under his cheek or on the collar of his stained and well used baby blue, velvet jacket he was wrapped in. He clutched his thigh where it trickled blood steadily onto his jeans, and the girl at his side got to her knees, pulling her thin, once-white dress under her and tried to hold his head, stroking his hair with shaking hands covered almost completely by stretched, burgundy cardigan sleeves. She jolted though, when the short haired woman headed toward her and cowered behind the injured boy, holding his jacket over her face. For his part, the young boy quickly tried to sit himself up, extending an arm behind him flinching visibly with the effort and pain. Natasha stared at them in the white noise of the air rushing past the vehicle for a moment and the hum of the turbines and their engines, eyeing the quivering girl and the angry, tearstreaked boy, and strode away from them.

"Wait-" the boy called, surprised, "Will you take us, too?"

"No." Natasha answered him.

"But-"

"No-"

"Then-then, just my sister- she's only five-"

"No." She'd gone over to her captain's chair and returned with a small box. When she came down to her knee in front of the children, the girl who had peeked in the very slightest of fashions clung once again to her brother, burying her face in his back, and the boy pushed at her, trying to back up in a panic. He'd forgotten that he was using his leg for that, though, and wheezed through his teeth when the muscles returned with screams of pain. A hand shooting out immediately, Natasha snatched his calf and pulled it to try and look. He fought her.

"Stop! Let me go! Aurgh-!" She said nothing, but she was much stronger than him. He groaned, trying to pull his leg away and from behind him, the girl tried to reach forward and pull at him too.

"Don't- No!" he protested, clearly in pain, but steeped in anger, and she slapped away his hands. He tried to push or peel her fingers off, and she shoved him away again. It seemed in fact, that he was more upset than in pain now, but once she popped open the box, a clear death grip on his young calf, and pulled out a bottle, a tube and a roll, he stopped. He could see what the things were, and yet, after a moment he continued the struggle. She grabbed and ripped the leg of the pants, rolling the pieces back, poured the bottle onto some cloth and then pressed it to the sides of the wound. He jolted as though it hurt, and she gave him a look. He quickly tried once more to pull away,

"Leggo! What are you doing? Is it poison?! Are you trying to kill me too?!"

"I don't want you bleeding all over the hold. Be still." She ordered, snatching his leg close again.

"No! Get away from me! What are you doing?"

"You wanna get an infection, kid?" Clint called from the pilot's chair.

"She's pinching me! With her claws!"

"Claws?" He was laughing, but the boy had little time to notice, as the woman had leaned forward and grabbed his shirt, pulling him in,

"You're gonna be still, or I'm going to drop you from 32,000 feet, and superspeed isn't going to save you from a fall. Do you understand?" He could muster no response save for biting his lip in fury and growling back at her. She took that as submission, threw his shirt back at him, and began swabbing the area with the tube and another part of the fabric. Finally she began wrapping him up. Now that he was silenced, he took the opportunity to display some passive protest. She'd lean his leg up to get around it and he'd let it fall to a side. She'd pull it near and flatter and he'd pick it up toward him. Natasha glowered at the boy and he glared back as if to say threatening looks meant nothing to him. They clearly terrified the pair of eyes behind him, though. Natasha quickly finished and let the boy snatch his leg away while she stood and went to the front to click on a com.

"Sit down-" She ordered behind her while she picked up the walkie phone.

"We are sitting-" the boy retorted snidely.

"In a chair," Clint cut in, "Put some seatbelts on." They looked up toward him, but the girl began to move, crouching to help her brother. A bout of turbulence shook the cabin, forcing her to stumble, and quickly both of them began to move. Both Natasha and Clint could hear clicking from behind them where he situated his sister before hopping into one of the row of chairs lining the side of the hold.

"Q1 contacting Base. Come in base."

"Base here. What is it?"

"We're coming in with a load."

"A load? This wasn't a recovery mission."

"Stowaways."

"You can't drop them?"

"No, unfortunately, I don't think we can. We're bringing them in."

"Agent Romanov-"

"They're mutants, Hill."

There was a pause, shorter than anyone actually realized before,

"Understood." and both ends hung up. Everyone remained silent. No one seemed especially keen on said silence. Well, almost no one.

"So, what are your names?" Clint broke it for the rest of the group.

"You don't need to know that."

"Well, what are we supposed to call you then?"

"What do you care, why do you need to call us at all?"

"What, you wanna ride in silence- we've got a while till we get there, kid?"

"Better than talking to some dirty agent murderers and kidnapping monsters-"

"Look-"

"Now, I get that you're in a bad mood-" Clint turned in his own chair to face the children, his face beyond serious, cutting off Natasha and looking back into the boys eyes, "but it's no trouble at all to turn around and drop you back off where you came from if you want to be disrespectful. This isn't a kidnapping mind you- and it doesn't have to be a rescue." The boy stared back into his eyes defiantly for as long as he dared, but turned his head away, admitting defeat. His sister's small hand reached far from the very rigid seats to grab his and Clint turned back around.

"My name is Pietro. My sister's name is Wanda."

From next to a soft harumph, he responded with, "We're Clint and Natasha."

In no time at all really, but much longer than anyone in this particular group would have chosen to spend together, the party arrived at their destination. The children were forced to follow without explanation as Natasha and Clint unbuckled themselves and turned the jet off, heading out through the hold. Pietro groaned, putting weight on his leg, so Wanda tried to take on some of his weight, barely managing to keep up with the adults. Around them was a bare hanger, dark except for bright spotlights produced by high powered bulbs. There was little time to look around though as Natasha and Clint seemed to be cutting them no slack.

Outside the circular islands of light, in darkness black as a suit, who knew what might pop out and attack them? Though he was the one being helped, Pietro led his sister forward, keeping his eye on the adults. They headed down the gangway- the only plank of stability over a vacuumous abyss, trying to both fit on the thread of walkway that seemed to get thinner and thinner, and even though a guardrail was fastened to each side, the gaps between the two bars and each of the thin columns was far too big, and just invited children to slip through them like water helplessly flushed down a drain. Having successfully stepped down from this they passed hydraulic doors, the mouth of a sideways, silver monster, with jaws that opened so wide that it must be a trap, and doors that shut so fast you could probably be chopped in half. Into a hallway next with pipes slithering around the walls so tightly together they looked like a swarm, burying someone as small as they were, hissing with menace, gurgling hungry threats and sometimes shuddering as though readying for the strike. Finally they ascended a few tricky stairs, hurrying to avoid being left behind but dreading whatever it was they were growing near to, not unlike the trip to the stage for a hanging. Then it was to a big double doorway, and through another one of the same kind, this time opened with a passcode and a card. Ones just like in a prison. Inside was a much brighter room made seemingly purely of pale, creamy concrete with boxes stacked all around and some big cars parked in docks. Pietro could smell the scent of the outside through all the motor oil and stuffy recycled air somewhere nearby and Wanda began looking around, trying to see if she could find the bright, warm light of day.

"Where are we going?" Pietro finally asked.

"Check in." Clint didn't turn around.

"Check in what?"

"Unexpected cargo." Natasha answered.

"Where are we going?" The boy demanded now. Glancing back, Natasha could tell he was forming an even more uncomfortable take on the facility.

"Somewhere safe." her voice was more tired than reassuring. There was a quickened, stumbling, patter of feet before the children pushed past her and Clint and then stopped before them. The face Pietro wore clearly displayed his willingness to fight. His nostrils flared as he panted through his small nose and his eyes shifted between the woman's and the man's. Beneath his arm, Wanda's tiny nostrils pulsed too, but her eyes was quite plainly afraid.

"We won't." Pietro asserted, "We'll leave, we'll leave like you wanted. We don’t need your help. Show us how to get out of here, and we'll go-"

"That won't be necessary," Startled into jumping, the children nearly fell spinning around and looking up into the clean cut face and pressed suit of the Agent Coulson. He came to a curt stop hardly a foot behind them, perfect posture and hands clasped behind his back, a bit of a smile on his otherwise strategically common face. The way they acted, one might have assumed the boogeyman had suddenly materialized at their flank when the two children reeled, stumbling in reverse into Clint and Natasha and hugging the black clad "murdering kidnappers" close with their backs. Pietro pulled Wanda's head close to him to keep her from seeing.

Both Natasha and Clint watched the moment's long events transpire before exchanging cautionary looks until Coulson required their attention again,

"Mm, smaller than anticipated." he commented casually.

"Don't let the appearances fool you, they don't think they're small." Natasha nodded back.

"W-we won't go with the evil agents-" Pietro managed to voice, and Wanda even shook her head from where it was tucked. The look he was giving must have been amusing because the agent in question chuckled quietly.

"You're using 'Evil' as relative term." He briefly rebutted before he raised his head, "Where'd you find them?"

"They found us." Natasha nodded.

"What's the situation?"

"Isolated, possibly volatile-"

"Possibly?" Natasha made something of a gesture, questioning Clint's assessment.

"My personal opinion?" he continued, and Coulson gave a nod, "Threatened and on the brink."

"And you believe protection is required?"

"Yes." Both Clint and Natasha answered.

"Agency protection?"

"Yes." There was a pause, heavy among everyone who knew what was  transpiring as well those who didn't, but Coulson took a breath and seemed no more phased than if an ant or a spider had crossed his path.

"Good. Fury agrees with you. We'll take them on."

"Great." Clint nodded.

"As Assets."

"Alright." Natasha agreed.

"They'll receive training, protection and surveillance around the clock, and be placed in a discreet location with their handlers."

"Sounds like a good plan to me? Nat?" Clint spoke more to instill confidence in the children looking up at him now that they were being included in the conversation, than to his partner.

"Couldn't be any better." She didn't seem to care as much, agreeing, but making no moves to be a comfort.

"Spectacular. Your things are already en route. There will be more specific instructions on arrival."

"Wait, what?"

"Huh?"

"Think of it like a vacation." Coulson turned, heading away, "Where you're working."

Some vacation. Putting aside that it was, in fact, a work detail, when they were told they were headed to Vegas, at least there had been a glimmer of hope. Well, Vegas indeed is where they landed- in a small airport hangar for personal crafts- and loaded into a minivan cab that smelled like cabbage mostly with hints of other things- frying oil, burnt rubber, maybe feet- and overlaid with incense that was clearly meant to counteract the first volley of scents but only managed to mix with it into some sickening new olfactory safari. And then they arrived.

Standing in the Nevada sun, the children stood while their cargo was unloaded listening to a soundtrack of dog barks, muffled, blasted music from somewhere far off, tires screeching off maybe a block away. Here, there were the smells of cannabis drifting in and out over the hot breeze where the smoke of a small fire hitched a ride, and as the taxi abandoned them, all four members of the "Shields" family stared at their new neighborhood and new home.

***End of Part I***

[kalimarswriting]

Wrong Floating Castle: Chapter 1

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I do not own Sword Art Online or Yu-Gi-Oh.

(Takes place between episodes 7 and 8 of SAO and during the Legendary Heroes arc in season one of Yugioh.)

Chapter 1: Falling

It all happened so fast.

One second he was fighting off a PKer, the next, he was falling in open air, watching as everything he cared about got farther and farther away.

Today wasn't meant to go like this.

It was supposed to be a good day, one meant to be spent leveling and maybe buying something nice for Asuna. Instead, it had been spent fighting for his life a little more desperately than usual and falling off the side of the goddamn floating castle. What luck!

Sarcasm aside, he needed to do something before he shattered into shards of light. Actually, shouldn't that have happened by now? No one fell off Aincrad and survived. It was unheard of. Players died before they fell long enough to reach the next floor down. So why was he still alive?

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Kirito tried to angle his body so he would drift back towards Aincrad, but found he was paralyzed. Right! When the PKer had knocked him over the edge he had stabbed him with something. It must have been a paralyzing agent. As a result he was unable to redirect his fall so that he'd land on a lower floor, or grab a teleport crystal to save himself, instead forced to watch as each floor flew past.

He passed floor fifty and wondered if Lizbeth would look out her window and see him. Probably not.

Aincrad was a big place, and it took a long time to pass just a single floor. With any luck (not that he'd had much today) the paralysis would wear off before he reached the first floor. Whatever was allowing him to survive wouldn't be much help if he missed the castle.

Forty-nine…forty-eight…forty-seven…

He struggled against the paralysis, but still he couldn't even move a pinky.

Forty-six…forty-five…forty-four…

An ordinary person would be discouraged and give up at this point, but not Kirito. He had things to do, people to get back to. He was determined.

Forty-three…forty-two…forty-one…

Kirito lost track of the floors as he focused solely on breaking through the paralysis. He refused to let this chance he had been given to survive pass by just because he couldn't move. If he could just move his right hand he might be able to navigate the menu and get a teleport crystal ready.

More and more floors were passing by in his peripheral vision as he struggled. He was running out of time. Like he was the sand in an hour glass, he was falling ever closer to the bottom.

A finger twitched. Yes! Finally! He tried to do it again but failed. Looks like this was going to take more work.

He glanced back at the castle to try to gauge how far he'd fallen. Was that floor twenty-seven? He could recognize that fateful floor anywhere. The floor where his friends were slaughtered haunted him. But now wasn't the time to grieve over the deaths of the Moonlit Black Cats. If he wasted any time on that he'd end up joining them.

Well, at least he had a count again.

Twenty-six…twenty-five…twenty-four…

At this point he was beginning to panic. Over half of his time was gone and the paralysis still wasn't wearing off. He was getting desperate.

Twenty-three…twenty-two…twenty-one…

His desperation turned out to be a blessing because it fueled his efforts to break free. This time he was able to get his entire hand to move! He opened his menu.

Twenty…nineteen…eighteen…

It took a few floors before he was able to move his hand again, but he managed to click a few buttons and access his crystal menu. Just one more click to materialize one—

Seventeen…sixteen…

There! He clicked the menu and the crystal appeared in his hand. His very paralyzed, loose hand. He dropped the crystal.

Fifteen…fourteen…

His breath caught. He couldn't believe he had just done that. That was his last teleport crystal! What was he going to do?!

Thirteen…twelve…

There was still a chance he could try to land back on the castle if he could control his fall. He was getting better at fighting the paralysis now. Maybe it was wearing off? He leaned to one side to try to change direction.

Eleven…ten…

He was going to wrong way. With some difficulty he turned himself to drift back towards the castle.

Nine…eight…

He could only hope the fall damage wouldn't kill him.

Seven…

He looked up at his health bar. The fight with the PKer had left him in the low green, but it appeared there was a bleeding effect. It ticked down to yellow.

Six…

He wasn't far now. He could see the leaves on the trees he was getting so close.

Five…

He bounced off the wall between floors. His HP took a hit, taking another eighth of his health. He didn't like his chances.

Four…

Hitting the wall sent him careening away from the castle in a wild spin. Even though he was falling, he was having a hard time telling which way was up.

Three…

He was panicking. He was panicking and he didn't know which way was up and his health was falling to dangerous levels and he didn't know how to fix any of it.

Two…

In his panic he didn't notice the paralysis wear off. Didn't take advantage of the fact that he could now materialize a healing potion or crystal and redirect his fall to solid ground.

One…

I'm sorry Asuna…Klein…

Tears were streaming from his eyes. He didn't know if they were from the wind or from crying, but it's not like it mattered. No one could see him to judge now.

He had missed the castle.

"Uh this is your captain speaking. If you direct your attention to the left side of our aircraft you can see that freaky floatin' castle, some clouds, and what appears to be a swarm of ferocious flying monsters ready to devour us!" What started calm enough ended in a panicky shout.

"Wait, do you see that?"

"You're going to have to be more specific Yugi, there's a lot of things flying around out here." A somewhat snarky feminine voice retorted.

"It's not flying, it—there! Someone is falling!" The second voice, Yugi, apparently, returned.

"I got it. Go, Harpy Lady! Catch the falling person!"

The paralysis had worn off completely now, too little too late. Kirito used his newly functioning dexterity to right himself, swaying to and fro in the air. He wondered what he was supposed to do now. Was he going to fall forever? He'd rather die than endure nothing but falling until the game ended. Who knew how mad he would go in that time.

Maybe he should hold off on using that healing potion…

The was a low hum, like a distant sound of roaring that he could hear over the rush of wind flying past his ears. Was he going mad already? Was he imagining things? It looked like there was something going on below him. As if he wasn't the only thing below Aincrad. As he continued to fall the muddled mess below him sharpened into individual shapes. What kinds of monsters were those?

Countless monsters swarmed in the sky, and he was headed straight for them. Winged lions, giant bugs, dragons and even some wingless serpents spiraled about. He'd never seen any of them before. Maybe this was where scrapped ideas went? Whatever the case, if they were monsters, he could fight them.

He cracked his knuckles (or would have, if that was something one could do in SAO. Alas; there were no bones under a player's wireframe to crack) in anticipation; he'd never fought an aerial battle before. It might be fun. It couldn't be that hard, right?

Now would be the perfect time to test out his dual wielding skill, but he didn't have the time it would take to equip a second sword. In seconds he was upon them.

He hacked and slashed and cut into everything around him, trying to kill everything within reach before they had a chance to notice him. He had less maneuverability in the air and wouldn't be able to dodge any of their attacks.

A gust of wind blew, blowing him off course from the monster he was targeting. His sword skill missed as a result, alerting the giant bug creature to his presence. It screeched and swatted him away with a pincher, and he was sent tumbling away without any semblance of control. His health bar was his only visual anchor as the world whirled around him. It had gone down even farther from both the bleeding effect from before and the swat from the bug just now, leaving him in the low yellow zone. His battle healing skill was being countered by the bleed, so it was no use to him now.

He realized that he didn't want to die, even if he spent the rest of the game falling. His survival instinct was too strong.

He fumbled around for a potion, but with the world spinning about as it was he couldn't even open his menu. He watched with frustrated horror as his health clipped down to red.

Suddenly something slammed into him from the side and his health cut itself in half. The world had stopped spinning now, but whatever had run into him had grabbed him, immobilizing his arms. He could only hang in its grasp and revel in the fact that he was no longer falling. He wondered where it would take him. Was there stable ground somewhere?

A serpent tried to snap at him, but the monster holding him clawed it away. It ducked and weaved around other monsters as they too tried to attack them. It was not a smooth ride for Kirito, but at least he wasn't falling. With a cry the monster charged through the throng of beasts, and Kirito saw where they were headed. Was that an airplane? Since when were planes in SAO?

It looked like there were other players on the plane, too. He was saved! One of them must have been a beast tamer and had their tamed monster catch him. With this plane, he could go back to Aincrad! Heck, with a plane he could go to any floor he wanted, even ones that hadn't been unlocked yet.

When they reached the plane he was unceremoniously dropped on his butt. He didn't care though. All he cared about was getting that health potion. Now that his hands were free he hurriedly swiped down, opening his menu and clicking through the item inventory before finally materializing the small bottle. He downed it instantly, watching with no small amount of relief as the bleeding effect was negated and his health gradually started increasing again. His battle healing started working again, aiding the potion in getting him back to the yellow zone. When at last it inched back to green he looked up at his surroundings.

The three strangers were watching him curiously. Seeing him look up, the shortest one stepped forward. "Are you okay?"

Kirito sighed and stood up. "Now that the potion is doing its work, I'll be fine. What are you doing below Aincrad? Did you fall too?" The three looked confused.

"Pal, we're from the ground!" The one in the barbarian-looking outfit (Kirito hadn't know outfits like that existed in SAO until now) said proudly. "Uh, what's an Aincrad?"

'What's an Aincrad?' Was this guy for real? Something wasn't quite right here…the odd clothes, the placement in an unlikely-to-be-found, dangerous place, and now the lack of knowledge of something fundamental to the game? He looked over their heads to be sure, and sure enough they didn't have cursors. This had Quest NPC written all over it.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Kirito said one of the commonly accepted lines that triggered quests. Maybe the reward was a ride to Aincrad, or a new area. In this case, the ground.

The short one seemed taken aback by the abrupt question. "Yes actually. We're trying to get to the Castle of Dark Illusions to rescue some friends. Would you help us? We don't have a lot of time."

Strange, Kirito wasn't getting a quest prompt. He gave the air in front of him where it should have been a funny look, but he nodded his head in acceptance anyway. Maybe this quest wasn't coded properly. It made sense if this was where scrapped ideas went. He could only hope there wouldn't be any bugs that could be life-threatening.

He turned away from the alleged NPCs, watching the horde of monsters in case any tried to attack. Keeping a lookout was far more important than making small talk, and he didn't know how effective the others were at fending off attacks themselves.

While he was turned away the three duelists were talking quietly.

"Hey Mai, you think he's another beta tester?" Joey asked.

"I don't know. I didn't see any other virtual pods in the office I was in."

"I don't think so Joey, look his wrist!" Yugi pointed out, "He doesn't have a duel-disk!"

"That's weird…why would he play a game like this without a deck?"

"And what's with the bar over his head?" Mai asked.

"Maybe Kaiba was testing more than one method to play?" Yugi hypothesized.

He realized they were being rude. "We should probably introduce ourselves instead of talking about him behind his back. Come on."

Kirito had heard them talking and had to reevaluate his assumption that they were NPCs. Only players wondered about beta testers. And what was a duel disk? His eyes narrowed.

He turned around as the three duelists approached.

"Hi, I'm Yugi," the first one introduced himself.

"The name's Joey! And this is Mai." Joey was oblivious to Mai's glare; she could introduce herself thank you very much.

"Kirito," he returned.

The flying machine shook, and they all fought to keep their balance. Yugi failed and fell back. A monster took advantage of the situation and attacked.

"Yugi look out!" Mai shouted.

Kirito lunged forward, sword drawn and sword skill charging up, but a small fairy came to Yugi's rescue first. She took the monster's attack instead of was thrown to the side. "Earu!"

Kirito destroyed the offending monster an instant later, much to the shock of a watching Joey and Mai. Was Kirito even another player? Or was he some kind of sentient duel monster?

A mage in a dark purple ensemble also arrived to aid Yugi, but seeing that the job was complete he returned to the battlefield—battlesky?—to fend off the other monsters.

"Swords of revealing light!" Yugi held up a card, of all things. To Kirito's shock glowing white swords materialized around the flying machine, creating a barrier that prevented all the monsters from reaching it.

"Yeah! That stopped those monsters cold!" Joey celebrated like their appearance wasn't strange at all.

Yugi cradled the little fairy in his hands. "Are you okay? Earu, say something." But the fairy only smiled, let out a small, relieved noise, and disintegrated into golden sparkles. Yugi fought back tears in despair. "No! She's been digitized."

Kirito watched with gritted teeth, his emotions in turmoil. He had already failed these people. He never wanted to see another person suffer through the death of someone—for even tamed beasts could be considered someone, if their AI was realistic enough—close ever again.

Anger set in; first anger at himself, then at the monsters flying around him. But he reeled his emotions in. Maybe he could help these people like he helped Silica.

"I've had enough!" Yugi declared as Kirito approached. Before he could get any closer he was blinded by a bright light coming from the upside-down pyramid that he hadn't noticed Yugi wearing before.

When the light died down at first he didn't see any difference. What was that? Then Yugi spoke and Kirito knew something was up. "Charge ahead, Joey!"

"Will do Yug!"

It was relatively smooth sailing until they hit something invisible. "Oh no, we've hit the magical barrier!"

…Magical barrier? There was no magic in SAO! What kind of mess had he gotten himself into?

"Well if this ship lives up to its legend," Joey started from the helm, "then we should be able to pass right through it."

Kirito found himself questioning his reality. "Pal, we're from the ground!" "What's an Aincrad?" "He doesn't have a duel-disk!" "I didn't see any more virtual pods in the office I was in." "Swords of revealing light!" "She's been digitized." "Oh no, we've hit the magical barrier!" None of this should be happening, but none of the others were batting an eye. What was going on?

First thing's first. "Magical barrier? There's no magic in Sword Art Online."

"I don't know what this Sword Art Online is that you're talking about, but you tell me what we're running into if it's not the magical barrier surrounding the Castle of Dark Illusions."

Kirito was starting to feel lightheaded. "Sword Art Online, the death game that trapped 10,000 players in a giant, floating steel castle where the only way out is to win. The game that we've been trapped in for over a year?"

"Kirito?" Yugi got his attention. "We're playing Kaiba's duel monsters adventure game, the first of it's kind. Are you sure you're okay?"

…What?

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