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MEANWHERE, ELSEWHILEOutside an office in a different London than he'd left, Phileas Fogg waited patiently for a man in a black lab coat to return with a box containing seventy-nine very small pocket watches.Phileas Fogg was no longer following the busy schedule he'd been, and he suspected that he would take a short while before devising a new one. And after his recent adventures, a short while was a concept of which he'd attained a new personal understanding.The wait proved him no challenge; as a proper English gentleman, patience was one of his most prominent skills. He had spent a while staring at the clock in the hallway of Royal British Institution of Science (which was, much unlike he knew it, located in an apartment above a large cinema on Oxford Street), but had found that its signals had lost all meaning to him. He glanced through the spotless glass window at his new home town.As it is, there are points in time when particular decisions are made, and no matter what one does, one will never be able to change that. One might even go back in time and kill – or otherwise incapacitate – the persons making the decisions, and it won't matter. The decisions will be made by other people, or they might even make themselves to avoid further complications.In the 1972 London which Phileas Fogg had initially left, the scientists of RBIS (the real institution, not the alternative version in which he now found himself) had been able to somehow track down and pinpoint these points, or some of them. It'd been one of those points from which he had taken off, along with his at the time rather dumbstruck new servant, a Frenchman going by the name of Passepartout, after making an extraordinary bet at one of the points in time which he knew wouldn't change, even as he'd travelled through the times and managed to eventually turn his beloved London into wherever he was now. Through the window, he saw the infernal change: There were flags waving in the air, but not the flags he'd been used to. There were machines that flew, higher and larger and faster than he had seen at any point in his travels. There were monumental towers, castles and public libraries, either floating in the air or suspended in wires from, peculiarly, each other. With all of these changes, Phileas Fogg's eyes rested on the relatively familiar sight of an old man sitting outside on a wooden bench, casually chatting to Passepartout, who had sat down next to him. Mr. Fogg's servant could, and did, instantly make new friends anywhen.Phileas Fogg noted the concerned expression in his servant's face, but wrote it off as anxiety for whether their bet had been won or lost. Passepartout was as passionately engaged in the bet as Fogg himself, and much more eager to let the world see that. At any point of their journey, a bypasser would have thought that it was Passepartout, not Phileas Fogg, who had his entire fortune and status at stake. And the Frenchman had reason to worry; the very last of their pocket watches had been lost after they'd placed it, and they now had nothing to show for the final of their efforts. It had been supposed to be placed in 1930, but they had been forced to leave the historical period in order to at least finish their travels in time, even if it meant fulfilling only seventy-nine eighties of their goal. The carbon-dating of the watches, now taking place behind the closed doors of the office on 56 Oxford Street, was a mere formality. In truth, they had already lost.Passepartout had by this point returned in the company of the gentlemen Sullivan, Ralph and Stuart. Not the Sullivan, Ralph and Stuart with whom Phileas Fogg had originally made an agreement, but close enough; besides, they seemed to have made an agreement with a Phileas Fogg, and they had the papers signed by him. It was all close enough; it was the same decisions, as had been the plan all along.Also in the company of Passepartout and the three gentlemen was the elderly man whom Phileas Fogg had seen Passepartout talking to outside. It was a mystery to him why an apparent stranger had been allowed into the small, but still rich and exclusive establishment, although the old man did appear strangely familiar. Then again, perhaps just relatively familiar, as he'd first thought.“So, are we getting any results?” Asked somebody who was either Sullivan or Stuart. “Not that it makes any difference, of course. We're still withdrawing the entirety of your earthly goods – 20 million Yen – from Bank of England's London division. Do we have an agreement that once your watches have been proven either real or fake, you'll immediately come with us to sign the transaction?”“Certainly,” said Phileas Fogg, as always showing a minimum of emotional influence from the outside world. He glanced sidewards to his servant, who appeared more nervous and less broken than he'd expected. At this point, the old man nodded towards Phileas Fogg, and pushed Passepartout forwards. Passepartout started speaking.“Mr. Fogg, Sir. I know how much you've given to go on this journey, and I have been both flattered and honoured to have made your acquaintance and company while travelling. I feel, however, for quite pressing reasons of my own, that this is the time when we must part. I am terribly sorry to not explain further, but you have to believe that I must do this. If I don't succeed, chances are you'll never see me again. But I'm going to try, because from what I hear, I've already almost finished succeeding.”Phileas Fogg did not understand at all, and neither, of course, did Sullivan, Ralph or Stuart. Not understanding, but trusting his servant, he took from his backpack a smaller bag with Passepartout's belongings, and gave it to him. Passepartout opened it, and checked its few contents: a small, red book that was his passport, a pair of boots that had been bought for Passepartout's own money after he lost his own (when accidentally offending the locals by wearing them indoors in a tavern in Belgium, 1825), and a still unopened letter written by a very sad young woman in 1930. For reasons he wouldn't reveal, Passepartout passed the passport around to everyone in the room, making sure that each gentleman remember specific, individual details in order for them all together to have the whole picture of it. While he was doing this, Phileas Fogg could read in his expression that his mood was now subtly changing, gaining the courage of a stage magic performer. When his passport was returned to him, Passepartout gathered his things, wished his former master goodbye, and left the room in a hurry.Shortly thereafter, the scientist in the black lab coat returned from his office with the box, the seventy-nine frozen watches and a little slip of paper to prove their validity. The gentleman who was definitely either Ralph or Stuart cleared his throat, and Phileas Fogg instantly caught the impatient insinuation. The Ralph or Stuart he used to have known would never have drawn attention to themselves in such bad manner.“Well, my fine gentlemen,” announced Phileas Fogg in a voice that, unless you knew him well, appeared perfectly untouched by the loss of the wager. “I suppose I have lost. Since I'm not familiar with this version of...” he paused for a moment. “...London, would you mind showing me the way to the Bank of England? I should be most grateful.”At this point, the ticking noise stopped. With the situation in mind, nobody had noticed it in the first place, but everyone heard it stop. They all looked to the old man, whose coat pocket the noise had come from. He was sitting in one of the seats, absent-mindedly looking through an old, battered passport with obvious appreciation, as if he were reading a letter from someone he had once known.Phileas Fogg recognised the passport. He also recognised the boots, having helped picking them out somewhen in the middle of the eighteenth century, and naturally, he recognised the still unmistakably French accent to his words when he muttered “Oh, is that the time?” and then, in a louder voice, “Excuse me, my sirs! I think there's another small aspect which you have to consider.”With Passepartout's testimony, proven by his possession of the passport and the watch that had allegedly taken him two decades to recover, Phileas Fogg was pronounced the winner of the wager, being able to prove that he had indeed crossed the centuries and achieved truly marvellous changes to history, all in only eighty days from the perspective of himself and the clocks he brought with him. He kept the clocks for reasons of affection.Three days later, Phileas Fogg disappeared off the face of the city, and was never again seen in that London.
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Welcome to the Story Submission Topic for the Expanded Multiverse, the noncanon collection of fan-created content intended to be freely available for any fan to use. This topic is where you can link to stories you have written involving the Expanded Multiverse. Either taking place in it, or using characters/objects/etc. from it.Note that anything you submit in this topic is submitted as fanon freeware to the Expanded Multiverse, just as if you had entered a contest. Any characters or whatnot in these stories won't get into any guides we'll produce or anything, but you still give up exclusive rights to the content, for the record.Here is the old Story Submission topic on the archived forum (auto-logout warning); go there to read many older fan-submitted stories!NOTICE: If you have finished a story, please post again to let us know it's done; finished stories will be linked in the new Official EM Reference Topic, here!
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On The Planet's Roof LOIS SCURRIED DOWN FROM THE ROOF. Some heads turned. Everyone seemed to notice her excitement, save for Clark, who was too busy working on his economics article to take note. She sat down in her desk directly across from him and typed on her computer with a satisfied smile. The rapid sound of keys filled the otherwise silent room for a full minute...........Clark finally looked up. "Lois, do you want me to proofread your work?".........."What? No," said Lois. Of course not. This was too good for anyone to see until she was done...........Clark leaned over the desk space between them. Lois stopped smiling and glared at him. "I've never seen you so enthusiastic to work. Wasn't your normal typing rate forty words per minute last I checked?"..........Lois let her hands rest. "Clark, you'll find out later. Let's just say I scored gold on something.".........."On the rooftop?"..........Lois eyed him. Clark was the most mild-mannered reporter she knew, and yet there was no one else on Earth more frustrating. Although she could tell that the curiosities of other reporters had been piqued the moment she entered the office, only Clark seemed to have the guts to press any questions...........She held her tongue for a beat, or rather, her lower lip, which she tucked under her upper teeth as she eyed Clark. "Yes, on the roof." No point in denying that much..........."You must have seen something pretty incredible," said Clark..........."Yep. Sure did," said Lois. She returned to her typing, yet she maintained eye contact with Clark in some sort of staring contest..........."Whatever it was, given your spelling problems, which are already terrible, you're probably going to misspell half your words at this rate," said Clark...........Lois briefly broke the staring context to look down at her screen. Sure enough, half the words were underlined in red squiggles. Bullocks. "I have spell-check on my side," she said..........."You might still want some peer revision," said Clark..........."Nope. I have Chief to do that for me," said Lois, almost bursting at this point as she switched from the defense to her normal prideful state. Clark only responded with the facial equivalent of a shrug...........From the other end of the office, editor-in chief Perry White rang out "Don't call me 'Chief!'"..........Lois and Clark looked around and froze for a moment. As animation returned to their bodies, they turned back to each other and for a moment, neither saying nor expressing anything. Then, in unison, they laughed...........When Clark regained his composure, he sighed and returned to his work. "I admire you ability to multitask, by the way."..........Lois smiled to herself as she continued to write her article at top speeds. For whatever reason - she didn't understand why - it wasn't a smirk, but a real smile, the same she had felt come to her eyes when she was on the rooftop. "Thanks," she said...........When she glanced up, Clark was back at his work, adjusting his glasses and reading over his economics report. When he noticed her looking at him, he smiled, or at least tried. Suddenly she was struck at how sad he looked. "It's just something I wish I could do better."..........Clark returned to focus, but Lois was almost certain she saw him give something of himself away. She knew it was none of her business, but she was a reporter. She took note on everything. Clark was more complex than people gave him credit for. Most people were, as a general principle. Lois stopped typing as new curiosities popped into her mind. Her article could wait...........She averted her eyes away from Clark now and opened up a new document, the one where she kept a list of all her unanswered questions. She typed a new bullet point: "What makes Clark sad?" She saved and exited. The document that was mostly red squiggles returned to the front of the screen...........The sound of clicking keys that filled the silence now belonged to Clark..........."Hey, Clark, do you have any friends?" asked Lois...........Clark stopped typing. "I have my mother, and when I was in high school I had a friend named Pete Ross.".........."No, I mean friends right now.".........."Well I have you, Lois." He said it with a straight face..........."You have got to be kidding me!" said Lois. "I'm terrible to you. I'm a brat. I treat you like nothing.".........."You're a greater hero for me than you give yourself credit for," said Clark. "You're all those things, but you put up with me all the same. Whenever you have a rant, you come to me first. And let's not forget, we make an awesome team. Remember when we investigated to see if Lex Luthor was twisting the arm of Senator Jennings?".........."Clark, the only reason I took you with me was because Chie - " she caught herself and cast a glance to Perry White's office, "Because Perry think we're perfect. That, and you tripped and ruined everything for me. Some team, huh?".........."Well, to my understanding you were pushing the boundaries of honest reporting anyway," said Clark. "And you admitted as much."..........Lois lifted a paperwieght and feigned a toss at Clark. He flinched. "Yeah, well I still would have had the ultimate story.".........."Even better than the one you have right now?" asked Clark...........It was now Lois's turn to flinch. "You changed the subject on me.".........."I did?".........."Yes, Clark, you did, and it was totally a reporterly thing to do," said Lois..........."Sorry. I should get back to my own article," said Clark..........."Wait, you can get that thing done in two minutes flat. How fast can you type anyway?".........."Over nine thousand, when you're not looking."..........Lois chuckled, cuaght off guard. She didn't expect Clark to be the type of person to make that kind of reference. "Okay, how about when I am looking?".........."Four hundred words per minute with ninety-eight percent accuracy," said Clark..........."See? So at that rate you could get your boring business article done in a few minutes, plus a few extra just to organize your thoughts, but you're a genius anyway so it shouldn't take too long. I can't imagine you'd be a busy person," said Lois...........Clark looked like he was struggling for a response. In the end, he said nothing, just returned to his report..........."No, don't you do that to me," said Lois. "Clark? Clark! C'mon, let's just talk. What do you say to visiting Mickey's Diner?" When he looked up at her she realized what she had said. "No, not as a date. Don't let that enter your mind. As a friend. As a coworker, because that's what coworkers do.".........."Lois, no need to be defensive. I asked you there the first day I met you, remember? I understand," said Clark...........That was right. Lois remembered sitting across from him and sharing with him her ambitions. He had sat there, eating his food, taking it all in, and every once and a while threw in his little bits of Midwest wisdom. Now that she thought about it, he had been awfully nice to her. Maybe it was time she returned the favor..........."Well, it's a little more than that. I met someone recently, someone with a heart of gold, someone kind, and he's sort of inspired me," said Lois. "I want to be more like him, and this is the sort of thing he would do.".........."'Whatever you do for the least of these you do unto me?'" quoted Clark..........."Uh, yeah, I see your reasoning there," said Lois. "He would totally like you, by the way.".........."I'm going to pretend I have no idea who you're talking about at this point," said Clark with a wry smile...........Lois closed her tight and scrunched up her face. "Stupid...I can't believe I gave myself away there." She let her face relax and took a deep breath. "Yes, I guess I might as well share that with you, anyway. We're friends, after all, like you said. And Clark?".........."Yes?".........."You can proofread my paper when we get there."..........Clark smiled with his eyes, but then his eyes went completely out of focus. "Sorry, Lois, something just came up. I have to go! Sorry!" He turned off his computer and jolted out of the office, leaving his roller chair spinning and Lois surprised. What was with that Clark Kent?..........Lois rested her cheek on one hand and sat there for a while, staring into the distance. Her thoughts occasionally shifted back to her article, but Clark returned to her mind again and again, so much so that it surprised her. He was an odd character, but maybe it was worth accepting Clark as her friend...........Then something came to her. Her journalistic instincts came back, and she opened up her bullet list again to add her latest question..........."What's with that Clark Kent?" Review 24601
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Witness Her foot slipped and skid against the concrete as she shifted back against the wall, grinding up dirt and mud against her soles. She sat quietly next to the dumpster, placing her hands over her mouth to stop any instinctive sounds she’d let out. She breathed in through her nose, in and out, over and over again trying to keep calm as she rocked in place.Her eyes were closed shut, tightly, trying to collapse the vision that she had just seen.The rain poured down around her, the clothing she wore was soaked and her pants were dirt ridden. Rain fell on this gray night, the dark clouds illuminated by the city’s lights. Lampposts lit the street beyond her, but the alley covered her in shadow.Slowly dropping her hands to reside limp on the ground, the smell of the garbage beside her was finally recognized by her senses. But she ignored it. It didn’t mean anything to her. She just tried to breathe. She needed air, time, and silence, regardless of how stale and musky the oxygen seemed to be.After the longest minute of her life, she moved her eyes around the corner of the brick building, slowly sliding her sight of the street into view which was hindered by her current position in the alley.With her back pressed to the wall, to make herself as invisible as possible, she took in what was before her.The man was standing above another. The one on the ground was on his back, rain pouring down on his clothes and face, as though he was in tears. His chest was a mixture of blood and mud and water. He was as dead as stone, and his expression was hidden from the girl’s sight.And the well-dressed, fully-alive man, the one drowning his lungs in smoke from his cigarette, held the gun at arm’s length.Her eyes widened, and her breathing shook again. She gasped, but she was sure the rain and thunder covered over whatever small whimper had escaped her mouth. The girl’s hand had reflexively grasped her thigh and she started to squeeze, stopping only when she felt the pain that had reached its way through blue jeans. That pain reminded her that everything was real. The gunshot she had heard wasn’t thunder. The flash that emitted after the trigger was pulled wasn’t lighting.The man retrieved the cigarette from his mouth, pausing to gently exhale all the smoke from his lungs, before he flicked it on to the corpse. In his large trench coat, he turned and his eyes scanned toward the alley way's direction.She immediately pulled back and held her breath.Rain pelted the buildings’ walls and concrete paths, against the dumpster like drums, and she felt like a prisoner. Unable to muster the courage to move, the girl heard every splash, every foot fall as the man drew closer.It seemed like any moment he’d shoot her next. And she would swear she felt the bullet strike her, the trigger sound being clicked. She flinched.But he moved on. He was unaware of her. His silhouette was dark and she could make out nothing about his facial features. With smooth steps he left the street, leaving behind the girl.Unknowingly, he had left behind his witness too.And that witness, would be the first part of a series of clues that would lead to his downfall and arrest for first degree murder. Her life would be forever changed by the event, and though she brought a criminal to chains, to this day she would never choose to relive those moments again. No one could fully know what it meant to stay silent and alone, and leave her place to face reality. To keep watch on that cold body from a distance, stare at that hidden face for the longest time and come to a conclusion: she did have the option to walk away. She didn't really know anything about it, and she didn't have to get involved.The girl hesitated.She couldn’t remember what raced through her mind after that, if anything had. She only knew she was scared. Fear kept her numb.Still… there were other emotions that kept her feeling intensely.It took a little time, but she eventually slumped herself out onto the street to get a second look.____To be honest I'm surprised that the story was this short, but for the Ambage Challenge #2 (my word if it's not obvious, being "Witness") this was the idea I had, and I just didn't feel the need to add anything more. It's not much, but I really enjoyed this story and wanted it as a separate topic instead of just in the SS Collection Topic I have. Hopefully you enjoyed it and thanks for reading! =D
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The Artist By: Marcel She stood in the elevator watching the number meter rise one by one, starting from the ground up. In a trench coat, tan in color with a little too much makeup on her face, the woman pulled the scrunchie from her hair, letting it flow across her shoulders. One of the walls was a mirror while the other two were of a fabric material, dark violet in color. The lift had that distinct smell, one of air freshener and window cleaner which was probably applied by the maids every day.The woman looked over to the right at the mirror, catching her reflection. Bringing a hand to her hair, she tried to adjust it a little. Wring it out, push it up to give it that life and curls that she knew she had.Nothing. It remained wet and flat.With a sigh she returned to the number meter, which now hit ‘15’ on the mark. The doors opened.Walking to her right, she stepped out onto an open walk way. When she had first moved here, she was terrified of heights, barely looking down when she left her apartment. The window in her room beside her bed, she also had kept closed.And one night it started to rain, and the thunder started to roar with authority. She had gone to see how close the storm was despite it being high in the pitch black, night sky. Sudden lightning streamed across the sky and illuminated the whole city. She timidly looked below, noticing for the first time all the people down there, like insects scurrying to find their shelter.Many nights afterward, clear skies or not, she would look out her window and watch the city with a smile on her face. She imagined all the people, and what they were wondering about on nights like these.She had never been good at writing, painting, or music. But with a smile on her face as she came up to her door, lost in thought, she blushed at feeling like an artist, glancing out her window. Capturing … the moment.It was a light feeling, but it was something that never hurt when she put too much faith into it.Shaking the key as it fitted into its slot, she pushed the door open.“I’m home!” she called out.The young lady appeared from the bedroom, light skinned and very quiet, a young girl who lived next door.“He’s asleep…”“Thank you again for staying so late, we got busy-”“It’s alright and I never mind. Besides, he’s great company.”“Tell your parents and brother, I said hello, and thank you again…”“You said that already,” her young friend laughed before leaving, not asking about pay and promising to babysit again.The young woman walked into the bathroom, removing her coat and work clothes before heading to bed.The child slept under the covers, head on the pillow. Dark brown hair, like hers and curly, he breathed in and out softly.Her five year old son; her sacrifice, joy, treasure and life.Reaching over, she kissed his forehead and rested next to him. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed him gently against her. Sometimes, not for his comfort, but hers.The light in the bathroom remained on. She didn’t get up to turn it off. The room was not too bright, and not too dark, so within moments she fell asleep to the therapeutic sound of light breathing and heavy traffic.For now, it was enough for the both of them. _____So this was an entry for the Flash Fiction Marathon CoT, Category #2: Treasure. I decided to post it up. A few interesting facts: I wrote this in less than one hour. I was with my grandmother at the time, who lives in an apartment complex so the settings were definitely from her. I've had an idea about a working mother for a while, but wasn't sure how to approach it... anyway the contest gave me an excuse. :3Hope you guys like it, and it had to be under 600 words, if you're wondering why this is a little short. Thanks for the feedback!
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The warm golden fingers of the crepuscule were withdrawing. The gilt was melting off the trees' leaves, leaving the auburns and ochers of autumn to their own polychrome. A chill wind whistled through the branches, with a nuance of humidity that foreboded rain. Below, gloom was gathering among the tree trunks. Leaves crunched beneath the feet of two peripatetics as they sought their way through the forest. It was a relaxing stroll gone awry.One was a short boy with unkempt yellow hair. His ears were small and his mouth antithetical in size. Dressed too sparingly for the collecting cool he shivered, his arms folded.His companion was nearly twice his height, with unusually short legs and long torso. Beneath an orange and black coat he was contentedly toasty.Asked the former, "Haven't we passed that same stump seven times?""What makes you say that?""The moss growing on it looks like a three-headed space alien with tentacles."The other scratched his chin. "You know, I do remember that. I think you're right." He frowned. "But that's the first time today." He rolled his eyes and walked on."Hey, I wasn't leading when we got lost, remember? You wanted to lead, and I was benevolent enough to let you.""Benevolent!" the lanky scoffed. "You've lived here your whole life! You must have been in these woods hundreds of times! Don't you know where we are?""You've been here as many times as I have, fuzz-brain.""Always with you leading. You never let me before. How should I know my way?""What happened to that instinct you always brag about? You should be able to find your way out ""I'd be able to smell my way out of here if someone hadn't avoided his bath last night.""Then why'd you help me hide?""I didn't think our lives would depend on my nose!""If that ever happens we'll be doomed. You couldn't smell your way out of a paper bag.""I'd like to see you try it!""I'll find my way and without my nose.""Then why don't you?""It would be easier if you would keep quiet," the yellow-haired boy retorted. "And if my foot wasn't throbbing with every step!""I told you not to cross that log. It was too high.""You could have told me a little louder.""Is that rain?" The taller companion raised his face to the sky. A large, fat drop landed on his nose with a plop. He squirmed with distaste. "Great, now we'll be lost and wet.""Didn't I tell you the forecast said it would rain today?""Just because they're lucky every now and then when their psychics are right doesn't mean there's any reason to believe them.""I'm surprised you couldn't sense the rain with your 'instinct.'"As the rain fell harder their dissentient discussion rapidly developed into an altercation, an event not at all out of the ordinary."Look, pal, if you don't keep quiet I'm gonna leave you out here in the cold alone!""If you do you'll only die of starvation while I find my way home. Lemme go!"With a fist to his captor's stomach the yellow-haired boy freed himself. He received a kick to each shin in retaliation. Best of friends and best of foes, they broke into fisticuffs in earnest."Why don't you take a long walk on a skyscraper?" snapped the taller."Dr. Frankenstein called today, he wants his monster's brain back!""Your lips are moving but I only hear a buzzing sound coming out!""That must be your brain sizzling!""Slob!""Noodle-head!"A new voice broke into the racket. "Calvin! Calvin!"The contenders broke apart. Quoth the shorter, "Mom?""Calvin? Calvin, where are you?""Over here, Mom! Over here!"Crashing through the brush she appeared beside them. She held a flashlight in one hand that illuminated her face. It was a contorted mixture of choler and relief."Where--have--you--been?""We got lost, Mom! It's Hobbes's fault! He was leading the way, but he had no clue where he was going.""Don't tell lies!""But it's the truth! Hobbes has no sense of direction!""He couldn't have got you lost and you know that. He's just a--Oh!" Without warning she fell to her knees and wrapped her son in her arms. "I'm just glad you're all right! Let's get you home and into a warm bath."An hour later, snug and cozy in his bedroom, Calvin gazed from his window. The moonlight glazed the treetops with silver, setting each raindrop scintillating like the stars above. From here the woods, so frightening and frustrating not long before, became picturesque, even halcyon."You know, Hobbes," he sighed, "getting lost wasn't so bad, after all. Not when you look back on it.""It could have been worse. We might never have found our way home. It was still a bit scary, though.""Not as much as it would have been alone. Together, it wasn't so bad. Finding your way is a lot easier when you have a friend to help you find it.""It's even easier on a full stomach," the tiger countered. "Let's go back tomorrow--but after dinner, okay?" Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
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Return By: Grant-Sud I grow tired of hearing the slicking noise of the windshield wipers as they move across my front window. That of course makes me aware that the rain has cleared up a little, and my wipers are just swiping at dry glass.Reaching my fingers under the controls for them, I turn it off.It’s dark out. Only the tapping sound of light rain hits my car now, as it drives down the freeway. I take a turn at the next exit and slow up a little as my car rolls down the ramp. The roads are still wet.I take a few more turns, following the directions on my paper printed with information from Map Quest. The next left brings me into the neighborhood. I exhale deeply, trying to calm myself. My stomach won’t stop churning. I curse lightly under my breath as I move past street signs, but then I have to force myself to not even think that. Not the best way to make an impression.A stop sign approaches as I hit a four-way street and do as ordered. I’m the only car on the road. I take a moment to glance around out my side windows. It’s a very good neighborhood. Each one has a porch with individually placed trees and bushes and flowers. To my right, a gentleman sits in his rocking chair on his own porch. He stares at my car, knowing that I don’t live in this area. Either that or one of his neighbors got a new automobile. It’s a small neighborhood.It’s cold and rainy outside. Not the type of view someone would just want to stare at or go out in. The type of rainy day that, no matter how quickly you walk outside and run back inside, leaves end up sticking to the bottom of your shoes. The man though, quietly relaxing in his chair, in the cold, is enjoying himself.I drive on.Finally, after a few more turns and one missed street sign that took a little time to locate, I arrive at my destination. I’m late.Not entirely my fault. This neighborhood has changed a lot since the last time I saw it.It’s stopped raining now, and I slowly move across the street before the house’s drive-through comes upon me. I hesitate. Should I pull in, or maybe just park on the side of the road? Would they be offended if I didn’t? There are already cars on the street in front of the house and one pulled in the drive way, room for two more.I get nervous, and decide to pull in. I shake my head. I must be crazy doing this.Parking, I switch off the headlights and just sit there for a moment in my car, looking through the windows of the house. I can see a few people inside. Sighing, I take the keys out of the ignition, slowly. I open my car door and step out, shut it and tug my brown jacket closer to my body as the cold air enters through and grasps me for the first time since I stopped at the gas station hours back.Placing my hands up to my mouth, I breathe into them and rub them together. But I know I’m not that cold. I’m nervous and that’s causing me to shiver.Shaking my head in frustration I take a few steps to the right, along the sidewalk. The porch is beautiful. Made of wood, with a freshly painted door it looks like. The steps are made of brick.When I take my first one, I stop.I reconsider.Do I really want to do this? It’s been quite a while and especially now? There are a few people inside already. I can come back tomorrow, when it’s just me alone. No distractions.People are distractions.I’m thinking of turning away right then, when the next car I hear drives down the street. I can hardly believe my luck as I watch the four seated Honda pull up right behind my car.I breathe sharply out as my teeth grit together.You got to be kidding me.And now I’m forced into this. To leave, I’d have to go back, and ask the young couple in the car to pull out, not before explaining my story, telling them I’m too chicken to stick around …Without thinking I press the door bell. The cold sweat that takes me is unlike anything I’ve ever had to feel before. I’ve prepared for sweaty hands. Two dry napkins from Wendy’s have been stuffed in my pockets and I press my damp palms against them.I know I have to calm down. This isn’t going to be easy.And when she opens the door, I could kick myself. I’ve forgotten something extremely obvious and that’s going to make this moment very awkward.She stares for a few minutes with a slight smile, one that is filled with little surprise. I immediately want to leave her, the house, and the entire state of Ohio for that matter because what am I supposed to say? I don’t know her age, though she’s probably in her early twenties. She looks Italian, though that I can’t tell for sure. And even though she gives me a warm smile, I know she must be thinking I’m the pizza man or perhaps a neighbor, asking what the occasion is. But I how can I stand telling her the truth?The truth is we’re related … in some way.I don’t know her name.I cough for a moment, and when she finally realizes I’m not a neighbor and have no food, she questions me.“Hello, may I help you?” Her voice is sweet.“How you doin?” Without waiting for an answer I continue by handing her a letter with a signature she should know signed at the bottom. “I was invited. Nice to meet you.” I reach out my hand and she takes it, though she’s now fully shocked and blinking. She’s wearing a nice dress I notice that’s emerald in color. It suits her fine; she's actually quite beautiful in it. That’s when I turn my head slightly to look over her shoulder, and see everyone else is dressed well. Me? I have a brown coat, black collar shirt, blue jeans. Not that I look bad or too rugged. But I can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed since these people are wearing dress shirts - some suits - and I can only stand there in my causal brown jacket. The invitation had explained to dress well … my mistake I suppose.We exchange names and she nods, and stares because now she knows exactly who I am. I just move past her and enter the warm house. I can a feel a few fingertips on my arm as she reaches out, but I really have got to move in there and walk further. Get rid of that awkward feeling. Really, I’m only here for two people.The fresh aroma of food fills my nose and I can swear I smell chocolate chip cookies. Must be for the little children running around, and there are a bunch of them. One group laughs and plays on the couch, little boys and girls giggling, playing with a ball and the family dog. Another group has two little girls sitting quietly at the table, listening to an old man – their grandfather? Not mine – tell them a story. Their eyes are very large, as most eyes of young children are.Finally one group of teenagers are sitting slightly away from the adult filled crowd. One girl is sitting comfortably in her chair – dressed well of course – speaking with two boys around her age. They aren’t part of the adults and hesitate when one comes to speak with them. It’s understandable, just not ready yet really, unaccustomed to growing up.One of the boys is having a good time talking with the girl about something that’s making them laugh aloud. The other boy is looking right at me. He isn’t frowning, but there isn’t a smile. It’s more of a question, his look, seeing through me, not old enough to determine whether I’m a threat or not.Hello, are you okay? Are you lost?Children have a way of asking those questions through a look, and seeing things you don’t want to see, or have forgotten how to. I nonchalantly slide my gaze from the young man’s staring eyes and concentrate on something else, though inside, I’m anything but calm.A few people also stare, some ignore me – there a lot of people here – and some recognize me. Some frown and some few, smile. I can’t smile back at those, because I can’t remember who they really are. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been in this house. All these people … how am I supposed to talk with them? After six years? Six long years away from home, never turning back to give them a second glance?Half of these people are related to me. Or friends of the family, which if so, in my family means you are family. If that makes sense.No, I’m looking for two people. That’s all that matters now.Should have came by later.I slowly turn my head and gaze at the crowd. I don’t see them.Moving slowly, I head into the kitchen, which is just as warm as I remember. For some reason, I stop just before entering the room. My breathing quickens when I hear her voice.The memories flood in, and I bite my lower lip. I refuse to let this get to me. I’m stronger than this. Leaving home was no easy task, especially at seventeen, moment I got out of high school. Voices being raised, tears having fallen … a kid yelling like a man, at his parents for things that –Happened. Things that just happened.I’d gotten calls of course. Sometimes it’d be my mother, other times my father. Sometimes I'd call them, letting them know I was moving again. It could turn into a fight when things were brought up. However, not always were harsh words given, most of the time it was just … talking with them. Six years just continue on. I still have no family and my job is a dead end, but I am somewhat happy. I’ve come a long a way, and no one can say I haven’t.Then one day I get a call, she asks to be there on this reunion. Just for a couple days, I remember, not even that if I didn’t want to. But my father and mother express their need to see me. Want their son to come home.Return.I’m stronger than this, but returning is sometimes the hardest thing you have to do. To go back where you once were, and ask yourself if whether or not what you’ve done was the right thing. If it wasn’t, or you fall, then to admit it, and ask for forgiveness to those people, that’s tearing. It tears at you, rips you up, until you get it done. Until you get that stone off your chest.I stand for that long moment, shake it off. And walk inside.She’s standing, slowly mixing a pot of some stew on the stove. I can see the steam rise out of it. She’s looking down at it, with a small smile on her face. Her hair is dark brown, and put up nicely in some style which is unique and equally lovely. She is slender and, six years later, still a beautiful mother who makes you feel at home.My father is beside her, maybe quietly asking how everything is going outside. He has one hand wrapped around her waist. And she laughs lightly. He’s much taller then she is. Lean, with black hair. He’s a guardian to everyone he knows.I stand there just for a moment longer and hesitate, because I can see their faces. They’re thinking about a person they feel is beyond their reach. It isn’t selfish of me to think like that, because I know they are thinking of me. I’ve been imagining, wanting to see them for so long as well ... no, that’s not selfish. My mother stops stirring the stew for just a moment, and my father’s speaking quietly once more. She nods with sudden sadness.It’s been such a long time.I cough lightly, their attention being shifted. She turns sharply toward me, somehow knowing I’d be there before ever seeing me, and her breath catches a little. My father slowly looks up and gives a smile as recognition comes to his face.I stand awkwardly, looking at them. I can barely move but I smile lightly. It is good to see them.I’ve come such a long way, and now is when I can’t move. I just stand there, looking at them completely frozen. So many miles travelled, now immobilized with emotion at the last step.It’s alright though. They rush forward and make the rest of the trip for me.____I decided to repost this story I wrote last year, just so it's easier to get to instead of on the old forums. Hope that's cool. (: R&R appreciated!From the old forums: ("Thank you for reading this. Again, another non-Bionicle story I thought up and wrote half of a couple months ago, and tonight I was actually able remember to finish the other half of it. (After digging it up) Unlike To Soar, there was no inspiration for this one. It comes from just me. Reviews appreciated.")
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A few months ago, one of the assignments for my English class was to write a short story. Since my theme was the Internet, I naturally wrote an action story that strongly resembled TRON. Looking through it now, the plot is a bit clunky and rushed, and some of my phrasing is really weird (I even edited some of the worst offenders before posting here). Since this is my first fiction in a long time, and I don't intend it to be my last, I'd like to get some feedback on my style. Inside “Hey, you’ve gotta see this website.” said David, sitting down at his computer. Mark followed him. David opened his web browser and punched in an address. Mark blinked, trying to keep up with the movements onscreen. David was so fast on a computer. “It’s got sheet music for just about anything you’d ever want to play…” David said, his voice trailing off for a moment as he clicked on a link that caught his eye. “Check it out!” he offered, standing up and offering the chair to Mark. Mark sat down and looked at the website on the screen. It looked kind of ugly, but hey, if it has good sheet music, who cares what it looks like? Mark reached for the mouse and wiggled it a couple of times to locate the pointer. His eyes went to a search bar on the left column, and he clicked in it to search for something. Before he could type anything, an error message appeared on the screen. A yellow triangle with an exclamation point dominated the box, and it had three buttons: “Yes”, “No”, and “Cancel”. Mark froze. Why did computers always do this, throw a hopelessly technical message in your face and then break if you chose the wrong button? Finally Mark said, “Uh oh, what’d I do?” David looked up from his piano and laughed. “Just hit Cancel.” Mark followed his advice and the message disappeared. “Yeah, it does that sometimes. The site’s a bit buggy.” David explained. Mark carried on searching for the song. In a few moments, he had located it and looked over the notes. Suddenly a black square appeared on the screen with a small white pattern twisting and moving across it. Mark blinked. “Uh…” David was now engrossed in his piano, trying to play some theme from a video game. Another square appeared on the screen, and another. Before he could say anything, the entire screen was covered in twisting white lines on a black background. Then a black square appeared in mid-air. Mark opened his mouth in surprise. The black squares started popping up everywhere, forming a box around him, shutting him out from the world. The white lines grew until there was no more black visible, and then started to fade. When the lines were gone, Mark was somewhere else entirely. Everything was black and white. There wasn’t even any gray. A black building in front of him was slightly illuminated by its glowing white panels. The sky behind the building was a pitch black void with white stars twinkling harshly, as if somebody was turning them on and off rapidly. The ground Mark stood on was a flat, smooth black surface that felt like it should be shinier than it looked. Mark looked around, desperately trying to locate some landmark, anything that would hint at where he was, but there was nothing around him but oddly shaped buildings, glowing softly from their highlights. There was a scuffling sound behind Mark, and he jumped and turned around. A black-and-white creature had rounded a corner and was coming straight at him. Mark knew nothing about this strange place, but he could guess that this thing wasn’t friendly. He ran. As he ran, more creatures joined the pursuit. They seemed to be coming directly out of the buildings, though the buildings had no doors or windows or openings of any kind. One creature came out of building directly in front of him and Mark saw as it ran that, instead of taking strides, it actually grew a new set of legs, and the old legs shrunk to nothing behind it. Mark turned right, where another creature emerged. He was cornered. Mark turned around to face the way he came, where one of the creatures suddenly exploded into shreds of black; the creature’s glowing white marks instantly faded. Mark looked around in a panic, as another creature exploded in flash of light. This time he saw a glowing green… thing speeding towards it a moment before it died. The projectile made a sound that reminded Mark of the laser guns in just about every sci-fi movie. Three more green gunshots, three more explosions, and there was a gap in the ring of monsters. Mark quickly ran to what looked like safety, more explosions sounding behind him. “Hey! Over here!” came a voice. Mark turned towards the sound and saw a woman wielding a black-and-green object he guessed was the weapon that had destroyed the creatures. The woman ran through an alley, firing as she went. Mark followed. When he caught up, she threw something at him that looked like another gun. “Take this!” Mark failed to catch it and clumsily picked up it off the ground where it had fallen with a loud thud. As he stood up, he saw his rescuer for the first time from a reasonable distance. Despite the situation, Mark found himself thinking that she really didn’t look like the type to be wielding a laser gun. Then he wondered what he expected a woman wielding a laser gun to look like. A bizarre roar turned Mark’s attention back to the creatures chasing them. Mark raised the futuristic weapon and fumbled for the trigger. Finally when he found it, the end of the blaster exploded in a flash of green light and the creature next to the one he was aiming at exploded. Even though he missed his intended target, the explosion was oddly satisfying. “What are those things?” he shouted at the woman after taking out a few. “Viruses,” she said simply, apparently concentrating exclusively on firing. “What?” Mark said. That made no sense... unless… “Computer viruses, I mean. We’re in the system memory of a computer.” the woman elaborated matter-of-factly. Mark gaped at her, and then looked around, as if to disprove what he knew was impossible. But the more he looked, the more he realized that it was probably true. Everything was black and white… off and on. Zeroes and ones. The flashing lights he had taken for stars seemed to be arranged in a grid pattern. The large objects he had thought were buildings were, on closer inspection, constantly changing. Their light patterns moved on their own, and the objects themselves expanded and contracted, as if they were alive. “Then… what are…” Mark gasped, gesturing at the “buildings”. “Programs.” said the woman, continuing to shoot at viruses. So that was what a computer program really looked like. Mark lifted his blaster again and fired as quickly as he could to make up for the time lost quizzing his rescuer. Though the pair was killing (or deleting?) dozens of viruses, they continued to close in. “We can’t stay here!” the woman finally shouted. “Cover me; I’m going to open up a socket to our base server!” Mark didn’t have a clue what she said, but “cover me” he could understand, so he blasted any virus that looked like it was getting too close. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw the woman holding a glowing keyboard. What would she need a keyboard for when she was already inside a computer? Then he realized that being in a computer wouldn’t give even a hacker super-powers; she needed some way to deliver their commands to the world. After a moment, the woman swore. “The server’s gone! I can’t connect!” “What now?” Mark asked. The woman tightened her lips in concentration and looked around. “Follow me to that process!” With that, she took off running towards a program-building about 10 feet tall. Mark followed, wondering what she was planning. He looked back for a split second; the viruses were already following. He fired a few shots and looked forward to see the woman jump onto the side of the program and start climbing. Mark followed her lead. Despite how smooth the surface was, it was surprisingly easy to climb; it was almost sticky. The woman typed something into her keyboard, and the program flashed. “There!” she gasped. “Got a vaccine installed for this program.” That, at least, made some sense to Mark when he considered the virus analogy, especially when a virus attempted to scale the program, but flinched back as soon as it touched it, as if the program was white-hot. “So we’re safe here?” he asked. “Yeah.” said the woman, catching her breath. She smiled slightly. “Well, during that whole mess, I never caught your name.” “Mark.” “Neka. Welcome to the digital world.” she said. “So, uh, Neka… how do I get out of here?” he asked slowly. Neka laughed. “You don’t. Not yet, at least. With the virus spreading as fast as it is, you’d probably get sucked back in next time you used a computer, anyways.” Mark’s stomach sank. “We, I mean, the people trapped in cyberspace, have a plan to release a counter-worm that will destroy the virus. Our headquarters is on a military server. I meant to take you there, but it’s not responding to connections for some reason.” she continued. “How tough is it to release the counter-virus?” Mark asked. “Counter-worm; it self-replicates over the Internet, but it doesn’t infect programs like a virus.” Neka corrected. “It’s really easy, but you need an operator on the outside to help, and believe me, that part alone is much harder than it sounds. Even if we do manage to hack into a computer that’s currently being used… well, what you would think if your computer suddenly asked you to install a program?” Mark thought before replying. “Well, I’m not really a computer guy, but I guess I probably would ignore it. Maybe even shut it off before it blows up or something.” He paused. “Of course, I don’t even own a computer. This is my friend’s.” Neka looked around, observing the digital landscape, and then turned to Mark suddenly. “Your friend… is he around right now?” “Yeah. At least, he was right next to me when I got… well, here.” Neka’s eyes widened. “He saw you disappear?” “I guess, probably.” Neka seemed to struggle to control her excitement. “So… he’s an outside operator… and he’ll probably believe you!” She quickly typed something into her keyboard and pushed it at Mark. Mark took the keyboard-thing out of her hands; there was now a screen floating in mid air, as if it was a laptop, completely transparent except for the screen and keyboard. The screen showed a simple text editor. Mark looked at Neka, not sure what he was supposed to do. “Type a message for your friend! Explain what’s going on.” she said impatiently. Mark paused, and then typed: “hey david its mark” He pressed Enter to start a new line. “im trapped inside the computer. i know it sounds weird but im sitting on a giant program right now surrounded by viruses” Nothing happened for a moment, then a single letter A appeared and vanished after a second. Then a full message typed itself, letter by letter: “Hi, Mark. I was going to ask if this was a joke, but that makes sense, I guess… I wondered how you disappeared so quickly.” Neka spoke up. “Tell him to run the program that just appeared on his desktop with root privileges!” Mark relayed the message, though with less punctuation and capitalization. “Root privileges?” David typed. Mark looked at Neka. “Right click, run as administrator,” she said shortly, as if it should be obvious. Mark relayed the message. “Done” came the answer. Immediately, a program began to rise in an open expanse of memory. Mark couldn’t decide whether it was breaking out of the ground or actually growing up from it. Before it reached even six feet, though, it stopped rising. Mark looked at Neka, as if to ask if something more should be happening. Neka just smiled. Mark looked back at the new program, which suddenly sent dozens of glowing beams into the air. The beams arced and fell towards the ground, where they honed in on the nearest virus. When one flew right past them, it appeared to be a digital creature like the viruses. Each creature ran towards the nearest virus and absorbed it. Behind Mark, Neka shouted with triumph. “That’s it, then?” asked Mark. “The virus is gone?” Neka turned to face him. “No, the virus isn’t gone. The counter-worm is only designed to destroy the corrupt component; the part that somehow brings matter-based beings into virtual space.” Sure enough, the beams of light vanished, and the viruses emerged unharmed. Mark overcame his disappointment by shooting one. “Wait… something’s not right,” muttered Neka. “The processes should have stayed active… and the viruses should have changed their signature, at least slightly…” She murmured to herself for a few moments. “No. It didn’t work.” she finally said. “I’m going to have to modify the launcher script. Stay here, and tell your friend to run again when I’m ready.” “Wait!” said Mark. “Why not make it delete the virus? That seems a lot less error-prone.” Neka stopped. “I can’t.” “Why not?” Mark asked before he could stop himself. Instead of launching into a technical explanation, Neka sighed. “I could destroy the virus… but I can’t bring myself to do that. I… created it.” Mark’s mouth fell open. “It wasn’t meant to work like this!” Neka snapped defensively. “It was just supposed to be spyware. I included a self-modifying component, which would allow it to bypass security systems. I… never expected the virus to give itself additional abilities, let alone violate the known laws of physics!” “Then you have to destroy it!” shouted Mark. “It’s gone too far!” “My computer was destroyed in the initial infection, taking the source code with it. If I destroy this virus now, I may never be able to recreate the parts that worked.” “What do you even need a virus for?” “It’s not as simple as you think! I…” A loud noise distracted both of them from the argument. Mark looked down at the ground, where the viruses surrounding their program-tower were twisting themselves beyond recognition. One stopped moving, then tentatively touched the side of the program. It waited a full second before jerking away. Mark looked at Neka, panicked. The viruses before had been unable to touch the vaccinated program at all. Given what she had just said about a self-modifying component, he assumed the viruses would soon be able to ignore the vaccine, and their safe tower would be overrun. “We don’t have much time.” was all that Neka said before making an impossible leap to the counter-worm launcher. Mark reminded himself that they weren’t in the real world, and physics were definitely not the same. Mark watched as Neka produced another keyboard, seemingly from nowhere, and began studying the screen and typing furiously. Though he knew she was an expert, Mark couldn’t help but feel that Neka would waste too much trying to keep the virus functional. The counter-worm seemed to have a vaccine of its own, so Neka was safe for now, but there was a group of viruses around its base as well, morphing and mutating, trying to find a form that the protection would not recognize. A message appeared on Mark’s screen from David. “What’s going on? Did it work?” Mark looked at Neka, who appeared to be swearing loudly at the program, though at this distance he couldn’t hear what she was saying. “no.” wrote Mark back. “but i’m going to fix it.” Mark inhaled deeply, stepped back, and took a running leap towards Neka’s program. “What are you doing?” shouted Neka. “If you’re not going to destroy this virus, then I will.” Neka just laughed. “The program’s written in C. You really think you can do this faster than I can?” Mark was about to ask “C Minor or C Major?” but reminded himself that she was probably referring to some sort of programming language. He settled for a joke. “Well, I’ve written a piece in C Sharp.” Neka grunted. “Proprietary Microsoft piece of junk.” Mark was completely baffled, but remembered that he had no time to banter about programming languages and music. He turned towards the screen on the device he had taken with him and groaned in dismay. The screen was covered in strange symbols and shortened words, and it made absolutely no sense to him. He couldn’t even ask Neka what it meant, because she was betting that he wouldn’t be able to delete her virus. Mark blinked and forced himself to try to read the technical gibberish. He couldn’t even begin to guess what the first few lines (“import <stdio.h>” and stuff like that) meant, so he ignored them. A few rows down, Mark came to a line with nothing but a weird squiggly “{“. “What the” - Mark swore – “is that supposed to mean!?” Ignoring it and many other lines like it (“If I survive this,” he vowed about twenty lines down, “I’m going to learn C properly just to find out what these squiggly things mean!”), Mark came to something that sort of made sense: “delete(*x);”. An idea came to him, and he scrolled up a few lines to where he thought he had seen “*x” before. It seemed to be a huge block of code dedicated to finding the corrupted part of the virus. Mark looked around: if “*x” represented the corrupted part, then… “Ha!” Sure enough, “*v” seemed to represent the whole virus. Mark deleted the “*x” detection code, and changed the line below to read “delete(*v);”. Before he could do anything, though, a laser blast sounded from below. Mark and Neka tore their eyes from the screens to look; one of the viruses was now shooting at them with a makeshift laser cannon on its arm. The other viruses looked at it and shifted themselves to match its mutation. Mark crouched low to use his high ground as a shield. Neka was too slow and took a blast to the chest. Neka went flying backwards and landed hard against a huge neighboring program. She produced her own gun and tried to clear her way to the counter-worm, but now that the viruses could shoot too, it was clear that she couldn’t do it. “Mark!” she shouted desperately. “I finished the program! Press F6 on my virtual machine!” Mark seized the keyboard where she had dropped it and scanned it for something labeled F6. He spotted F9 and worked backwards until he found the key. He held his finger over it. “NOW!” shouted Neka, cornered by her creations. Mark threw Neka’s device to the ground, pressing F6 on his own keyboard. Nothing happened for second, then the beams of light soared out of the counter-worm once more. Once again, they arced in midair and soared downwards towards the viruses. This time, where they hit, there was a blinding flash of light. When they cleared, the virus was gone. Several of the beams turned towards the infected programs, cleansing them; the rest hunted down the remaining mobile viruses. When the viruses were gone, Mark jumped down and ran to Neka. “You deleted them,” she panted. It was impossible to tell her anger from her exhausted voice, but Mark could see it in her eyes. “I did what I had to do.” Mark said simply. “For everyone’s good.” She said nothing. “If I hadn’t deleted them, you would be dead now!” Mark said, raising his voice. “Would that really be worse than seeing my life’s work destroyed?” Neka snapped. Mark said nothing. How could she value something that was so destructive? “Hello!” came Neka’s voice, cheerfully calling from behind him. Mark turned, confused; Neka was still fuming in front of him. It was one of the counter-worms. Neka must have prerecorded a message for any survivors it found. “You have been trapped in the digital world by a rogue virus. Follow me. This may be your only chance to return to the physical world.” it continued in Neka’s voice. Mark stepped towards it, looking back at the real Neka. She sighed. “Go.” Mark paused. “How are you going to get back to the real world?” “There’s nothing left for me out there, now.” she said bitterly. “So I might as well stay here.” Mark found that he understood. Because she understood the systems so well, Neka would have incredible power to control her world. Whatever her past, it seemed that control over her world would be welcome. “Goodbye, then.” he smiled. “If I have to clean up another self-modifying virus, I’ll know who it’s from.” “No… I’m done with viruses.” Her mood finally seemed to lighten a bit. “But this self-modifying thing… I mean, think of what sort of programs you could make with that…” her voice trailed off and her eyes lost focus as she looked around, already lost in the possibilities. Mark turned back to the worm. “Take me back, then.” The world disappeared in a blinding flash of light, and he was back in David’s room. The scorch marks at his feet and the soot on David’s stunned face suggested that his return was not subtle. Mark looked around, his eyes adjusting back to the real world. “Well…” said David after a moment. “Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?” End Thanks for reading!
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The discovery of this ancient document has led certain renowned scientists to further sound the depths of its history. Countless experts have put their wits together in efforts to translate the text to find meaning. Conspiracy theorists insist that it's a cipher of some kind, and that hidden beneath the surface lay clues, a hidden map, maybe. But in trying to look up through the surface they forget they are above it to begin with. If they only looked down, they would see the truth.They entirely ignore the true context of the document. I can but hope that my humble efforts to preserve this meaning have succeeded.Love is a strange thing. It reduces the sanest of men to blundering fools. Somehow when that inexplicable feeling comes over us we lose hold of our senses. What else, indeed, but madness could induce a man to behead a weed, strangle it with twine, and give it to a woman as a show of affection? Where can we find the rationality in comparing a woman to the blinding light and sweating heat of the sun, or to the wild, mindless beasts that live among us?And where, I have asked but to receive no answer, is the sense in giving a woman a mass of land and comparing her to it? How in any way can this "sentiment" even be called by such a name?It all began when she started thinking about legends. It's dangerous enough when a woman starts to think at all, but to be thinking of legends! Legends are strange in their own right. If love make a man do delusive things, legend make him see delusive things. And to fall in love with a legend is to set a course for illimitable trouble. Yet that's what she did.They say the island exists somewhere in the seas to the west. They call it a Paradise. Those who go searching for it either find it and stay there, or die in the endeavor, which leaves me to wonder who brings the stories back, but she didn't care about that. She had already fallen in love, and there was no stopping her now.Love makes a woman take actions as strange as a man. And if you had heard her repeat the tales of this legendary island where there was peace and prosperity, where there was no death and no danger, where the seasons were easy and the soil fertile, where predator and prey lived in harmony; where the sun always shone but never too hot, the wind always blew but never too cold, the waves wept the shore but never too loud, the rain fell when necessary but never too hard; where the days were long and the nights even longer, and strife and sorrow were inexistent; if you had heard with your ears, as had I with mine, the wistful, passionate way she had spoken of these things; and if you too had been captivated by her engaging loveliness, by the ebon ribbons of velvety hair, by the violet sheen of her soft lips, by the scintillation in her eyes, as any man living well would have been; then you would not scorn me for what I did.And I promised her things. Mad things, absurd things. I promised I would find that island for her, and take her there to it, and build a city there, and that we would live out our lives in this Paradise. I promised I would name it all after her. I promised that I would love her until the end of my days.And she kissed me then. I kissed her very warmly in return, for the first and last time. But I have since found myself meditating upon a thought I prefer not to entertain, as difficult as ignoring its urgent exhortation be. I wonder if it was truly me she kissed then . . . or my promise. And then I scold myself for even allowing the doubt to enter my mind.And whether I intended to keep my vows or not I do not know. But I did. And so it was that before very much time had passed we commissioned our vessel and set sail.I am a man given to misgivings. And the longer we sailed and the longer we searched, the greater a new misgiving became. What if we did find the island? What if it did exist? A Paradise such as this would not last for ever. If we found it, others would as well. Others with swords and spears and arrows and slings. The powers of the world would snatch at this new territory until it had been torn to shreds in the skirmish.When I voiced my doubts to her, she answered simply, "Then we'll hide it." And when I asked How, she said, "We'll find a way." This was her answer to everything. How would we locate the island? "We would find a way." I think she laid too much stock in my abilities to achieve the impossible.An example of this came later, when we had been searching for years to no avail. She became ill, and I insisted we make port until she recovered, but she refused to allow it. She would hear of nothing but our continued, uninterrupted questing. I asked her how she proposed to convalesce on the sea. Her answer, "I'll find a way."And when she didn't, when her prevalent solution proved fallacious; and she lay on her deathbed, and I kneeled at her side; and I asked her how I would go on without her; can you guess what she said to me then?"You'll find a way."My love, rest peacefully. I swear, if this fabled island exists, I will find it, as I promised you. I will build there the city which I promised you. And I will hide it away from the cruel world that, should its callous hands seize the land, would so certainly defile it. I will find our Paradise. Though I failed to protect you, I will always protect our new home. On your memory I swear it, my sweet Atlantis. . . .The authorities on such matters say that this could be a historical find. They say that centuries of legend and mystery may soon be cleared up.But I say they are entirely missing the point. This was never meant to be a treasure map. It was never meant to clear up some mystery of a mystical land. It was merely meant to explore something even more mysterious and mystical as it existed within the author's heart. It was meant only to be what it is, for what else can it be? It is nothing more now than it ever was: a love letter. Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
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Our hearts are connected. Whatever distances may separate us, no matter how far we roam, we are never apart. I will fight for your honor; or maybe I already have it. I will give you my heart; but has it not always been yours? The stars are not so unreachable as they say: They are just worlds waiting to be touched. We'll reach them together. It's amusing how the strangest things will come back to you at the strangest times. Take, for instance, these words:"All imbalances must be destroyed."My mentor's last words to me before Lydia and I set out for the light realm, where we belonged. This was the memory that came to my mind as pain pervaded my body, radiating from the blade imbedded in my back. It was twisted in its place and ripped free, and all I could do was recall that statement as I groaned and gasped and crumpled.A high, feminine voice tinged with malice whispered, "Die for me, my sweet, as you always swore you would do."She stepped out from behind me, brandishing her keyblade. Silken hair of ebon cascaded around her shoulders, crowning her graceful figure. She was my shadow, but she looked nothing like me. She resembled more closley the girl standing nearby, looking on in horror. Her own shadow--my own semblance--stepped into the light. A smile played across his features."Foolish Mike," he chided. "You should have been watching behind you."Lydia regained her wits. Her face contorted in fury. "I'll destroy you both for this!"Idalyx rolled her eyes. "Do you really want to fight me again? I certainly don't want to fight you. We're too wearyingly equal. It gets tedious."Lydia took a ferocious step forward, hissing, "Then I'll make it more interesting for you."But Kexim stepped between them. He lifted his dark echo of my keyblade into Lydia's face. "Want to see how equal we are?" he menaced.Lydia raised her blade to Kexim's. "Gladly."He hunched his shoulders and said grinningly, "This is a match I've been waiting for.""No!"The cry was mine. Before either could strike, I gathered every last ounce of energy in my body and hurled myself at Kexim. At my command a portal appeared to the dark realm and, our limbs interlocked, he and I fell through it.The light realm vanished and we plummeted into darkness. I knew Lydia could handle Idalyx. Even as I felt my heart fading, my strength ebbing away into my Nobody, I knew Lydia's tenacity was insuperable. I just hoped that I was right. . . .I turned to her Nobody, falling beside me--and not a moment too soon. I raised my keyblade and caught the blow from his just as it was about to land."You think I'll be trapped here?" he snarled. "You've only delayed me. And when I get back, I'll steal her heart, just like Idalyx is already getting yours. And what are you going to do about that?"I did the only thing I could do. I closed my eyes. . . . ~ * ~ It was to my shock that my eyelids opened again and light poured into my retinae. When I sat up, the pain was gone. The wound in my body had healed, somehow. My mind brimmed with questions. Where was I? Where was Kexim? How was it I was not dead? When my eyes adjusted, I looked around myself in bewilderment; a survey that answered this last query and raised two more.Idalyx lay on the floor nearby, fading. Her life force was draining into me. This was Lydia's doing--but how? And where was Lydia?I peered into the darkness. And then I saw her. In an instant I got up and ran to her side. She was writhing about and moaning, clutching at her sides. I shook her gently and tried to help her up. She continued to cringe and quiver in my arms."Lydia! Lydia, what's wrong? What's happened?"She choked, "K-kexim!"Immediately I understood. All imbalances must be destroyed . . . suddenly the words had a much graver meaning.But balance wasn't my concern. "Lydia! Fight him! Don't give in.""I--I can't!" she gasped. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She looked up at me. "Mike, I--" But a screech split her words as another spasm shook her body.I rocked her in my arms, trying to think. Kexim would kill her if I didn't do something about it. But what could I do? How could I stop him? How could I save her?Only the same way she had saved me. And there was only one was I could do that, I realized.Swallowing hard, I put her down and rose to my feet. I didn't bother to ask myself the difficult questions: Would it work? Could I do it? Was I brave enough? For Lydia's sake, I had to be. It was the least I could do; my heart had always belonged to her, anyway.I stepped over to where my keyblade lay and picked it up. For a moment, only a moment, I almost didn't want to do it. But I remembered the words: all imbalances . . . And when I looked down at Lydia . . .There was no choice to be made. I inverted the blade and plunged it into my chest.But it was a different kind of pain. It didn't feel like dying, this time. This time it felt like a heartache; a bittersweet feeling of mingled pain and relief, fear and comfort, joy and sorrow. I felt myself falling; only I didn't feel the floor beneath me. I just kept falling. And I could have sworn that, before the world went black, I saw my heart floating away from my body, drifting off to attach itself to the nearest source of life. . . . ~ * ~ This time I expected to open my eyes, and I did. An endless void of darkness stretched all round me--except straight ahead. There I saw light, untempered and pure, in its most potent state: the heart.But the heart before me was throbbing in great agitation. The light was obtunded. Purple veins were creeping their way through it like a spider making a web, diverging from the blade plunged into its center."Get away from her heart." The order was calm and quiet, though it was like a thunderclap in the silence of the void.Kexim started in surprise. When he turned around, he instinctively drew his keyblade from the heart to direct it at me. "H-how did y-you get here?" He quickly steadied himself with a breath and smirked to cover his discomfiture. "You've come to stop me, have you? Come on. We've been through all this before.""That's true. We're an even match. It's always been a battle, between the two of us, that can have no victor." Now I smiled. "But this time, I won't let you win.""Oh, you won't let me. Well, that changes everything," he fleered. "Am I to understand you were holding back before?""Lydia can only have one shadow, Kexim. And she deserves a better one than you.""And where do you expect to find one of those?""I'll just have to be that shadow myself."Kexim scoffed. "Are you really as foolish as that? You exist. You can't be a shadow. You have your own heart.""I know. That's why I gave it up."Kexim's eyes widened. "Did you really? Well! . . . then you're even more foolish than I thought.""You would never understand, Kexim," I replied. "How could you? You've never had a heart. You've never felt love."The wide eyes narrowed to slits. "That's not true!" he hissed. "It only shows how little you understand!"His weapon arm was shaking. I could have sworn I saw something glinting at the corners of his eyes. Tears? Was that possible? Perhaps it was. . . ."Idalyx," I murmured."She destroyed her!" Kexim bellowed. "Your Lydia--destroyed my Idalyx! And I--I loved her!" His grip tightened on his keyblade. His knuckles became white. "She'll die for what she did to her!"I took a step forward, reaching a hand toward him. "Kexim," I pleaded, "Listen to me. You thought you loved Idalyx--but you couldn't have. Don't you see that? You can't feel anything. You're just deceiving yourself. All you ever felt was a shadow . . . a shadow of how Lydia felt for me; how I felt for her. You don't know what real love is. But I still remember it.""You're lying!"I moved closer. "I can still taste it, Kexim. I can still remember--I can remember what it was like. . . . Please, don't destroy that. If you ever thought you cared for Idalyx--think of how I care for Lydia." I took another step. "Please. Stop this."Kexim lowered his blade, brow knitted in confusion, a deep frown on his lips. He took a hesitant step--then another. He came nearer and nearer. He was only a few feet from me when he halted. Precipitately he threw his head back and cachinnated. Like a man gone insane he laughed himself hoarse, doubling up, nearly falling over in his mirth. When at last he could straighten body and face, he cast me a derisive grin.When he spoke, his voice was thin and strained from the laughter. "You fool! You idiotic fool! You want me to sympathize with you? You expect me to relent? Why should I? Out of the kindness of my heart?" He spat out the last word with particular vehemence and scowled, as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Or had you forgotten? I don't have one. But how could you forget? You don't have one either!" He raised his keyblade. "So come on, then. If you're so anxious to fight, let's have it out right here, a fight to the finish! I never existed, and now you don't exist, either. I've always wondered if nothings actually die, or if they only sort of vanish." Another laugh shook him. "Let's find out!"He lunged at me, riving the air with his keyblade. The weapon I lifted to defend myself was not my own; it was the mirror image of Lydia's. It was the keyblade that had belonged to Idalyx. Now I was truly a shadow.As our sabers met, Kexim stared. I saw something stir behind those eyes; but it was distant and almost unreachable. It flickered, then died, and a fire sprang up in its place.Kexim raised his keyblade and brought it down toward my head. I raised my own to parry and swung it round at his head. He blocked and swept it around his head for a diagonal slash. I deflected the blow and riposted. He diverted it to the side and thrust his blade at my head. My nose quivered in the rush of air that accompanied my narrow counter.I kneed Kexim in the ribs and he staggered. I raised my blade over my head. Before I could strike, he lunged. I had to twist my body to catch the attack in time. He pulled back and swung again, and again, and again. He had me stumbling backward, barely able to maintain defensive maneuvers, much less offensive.Then I tripped and fell on my back. His blade plunged toward me. I raised my own in time to knock it aside. I kicked out at his knee and he reeled.Back on my feet, I cast a barrage of icicles at him. He dodged to the side and hurled a fireball. I deflected and summoned a bolt of lightning, which struck his uplifted keyblade. It absorbed the surge for him to redirect it at me. I dodged to the side. Then I hurtled toward him.The conflict continued. We matched one another blow for blow, parry for parry. We both knew what the other was about to do before the other did it. At one particularly heated point I barely raised my keyblade in time to block a wild swing, deflect it with its own momentum, and make a counterattack. He flicked the thrust off to the side and made a riposte. I brought my blade across my body to push his off to the side, where our blades locked in a tense struggle as we lowered into each other's faces. Then we fell apart, chests heaving."Is that--all--you've got?" Kexim taunted. "You're--slipping! Without--your heart--you are nothing!"I didn't respond. I knew this was getting us nowhere. He was right; my advantage in the past had always been my light. Now I was only a shadow. Only . . . a shadow. . . ."Then maybe," I cried, half to myself, "maybe I need to borrow someone else's!"I dropped my blade and turned. And there it was; the light I needed, though it was rapidly darkening. I ran headlong toward it. I heard Kexim following behind me.I arrived first and threw myself into Lydia's heart. For a moment I hung there, as if stuck halfway through a gelatinous wall. Then I sank into it; it absorbed me. It began to glow brighter. I heard nearby a deep scream and, more distant, an alleviated gasp. I felt a gentle warmth where the empty cold had been in my chest. I smiled as everything became lighter. . . . ~ * ~ Lydia was climbing to her feet. I offered her my hand and helped her up. She looked dully up at me, dazed. With a start everything rushed back to her."Mike! What happened? Where's Kexim? Why did he stop?"I staunched the questions with the flat of my hand. "You first. How did you defeat Idalyx?"She looked at me in puzzlement. Presently her face cleared. "Oh--oh, yes. Well--I knew I couldn't win. We were too evenly matched. Everything she did, I knew she was going to do; and everything I did, she knew I was going to do. She thought like me--so instead of thinking like myself, I thought like you.""In one of my more clever moments, maybe.""But what did you do? What happened to Kexim?"My shoulders rose and fell. "I only did what you did for me.""So--you--you--""No, actually. You did. Kemix is gone.""But how? I felt him--it was like my heart was being stabbed from the inside. And then it stopped. What did you do?""I went to him and stopped him. But it was actually your heart that did it."She put a hand over her chest. "You went--to my heart?"I nodded. "In the end your light was too powerful for him. He underestimated you.""But how did you get--inside?""I lost my shadow. You needed a new one. So I became it.""But how did you do it?" she pressed."I gave up my heart."She put a hand over her rounded mouth. In her shock she did not speak; then, "You gave it up--for me?""I had to. It was always yours to keep." I turned away. In dull, insipid tones I whispered, "I loved you.""'Loved'?" she repeated. Sadness choked her voice. "You--you can't feel anything any more. You can't . . . can you?"I shook my head. "I can only remember. It seems like an old dream, or a distant memory. It doesn't feel real anymore. But all I can tell you is how deeply that heart cared for you, Lydia."I felt her hand brush my arm, then tighten, and pull me around. I looked down into her tear-stained face, with its shimmering eyes and glowing smile. How I yearned for that same feeling to be ignited . . . but I could feel nothing."You gave me your heart. . . ."Her hands pressed against my chest for balance. She stood on tiptoe, tilted her head back, and whispered, "The least I can do to thank you is to share mine."And she pressed her lips firmly against mine. I wrapped my arms around her and let her kiss me. And somehow, somewhere deep within my body, I felt a little glimmer--just a faint little glimmer--of light. . . . ~ * ~ Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
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Life: Birth of a Hybrid The egg was ready to hatch. The baby raptor pecked at the inside of the shell, squeaking quietly. A shadow passed in front of his egg—he was only being born, and he already knew that it was his mother. A crack appeared in the shell, sunlight blinding him for a moment. His mother cooed gently, urging the hatchling to break free. He pushed once, twice, a third time, and his head broke through the eggshell. The baby paused to catch his breath. The world around him was fuzzy, and he squeaked in surprise as he felt his mother’s tongue licking albumen off of his tiny, frail body. He surrendered to the larger raptor, feeling loved. There was a shriek of alarm from nearby. A male raptor, presumably his mother’s mate, looked like he was going to rip the baby to shreds… and then his mother. His mother was not so easily swayed, though. She bared her teeth and claws, making her intentions clear: she would fight and die for this one hatchling. What the newborn didn’t know was that he was the only living member of his brood; his brothers and sisters had either died in the egg, or died shortly after being born. To his mother, he was one in a million—to the rest of the world, he was a freak of nature. His mother’s mate begrudgingly slinked away, leaving mother and son alone. She cleaned him up, and examined him from the tip of his snout, to the end of his tail. For the most part, he was a yellow that was almost gold, with black stripes. A single blue stripe ran horizontally along each side of his body, close to his spine. His eyes were a clear, intense blue, with catlike pupils. His underbelly was black—an oddity for both subspecies of Velociraptor on the island. He had a pair of well defined crests above his eyes, the same color as the stripes on his body. To top it off, it looked like he would develop a blue quill crest. This hatchling—this accident—was special, and precious to his mother. She examined his dead brothers and sisters, the unfertilized eggs, and she came up with a name for her beautiful baby boy: Ignika—Life. She cooed to her baby. She knew he would be looked down on, ridiculed, and possibly killed, just because he wasn’t supposed to exist. But whatever didn’t kill him would make him much stronger, and he would be an able warrior and hunter. He would outshine his peers. He combined the best of both raptor subspecies; he would survive to a ripe old age. But for now, mother and son slept, Ignika curled up in between his mother’s chest and arms. In order to grab Ignika, an attempted killer would have to wake her up… and she would rip their throat out. For her beautiful baby boy.
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The Final Chronicle By KH A blur of motion before you. A wall of sound crashing incomprehensibly on your ears. A movie flying in front of you, soaring too fast to catch a single syllable. Then suddenly, it crashes and all turns black.A photo album, filled almost to bursting with family photographs, revelry and joy. You flick through page after page as they fill before you. Then suddenly, you find an incomplete page, an empty story. A teardrop falls, dappling the page.Welcome to my family.Mom and Dad had differences. I always knew that. Everyone did, it seemed. I found that out, over and over. Taunts in playground. Jibes in the cafeteria. All a lifetime away. I knew that Mom and Dad had differences....What I didn’t know was that they had so many differences that they couldn’t stand living together.It was always something small. An argument over whose duty it was to handle housework, every morning when they went to work; an argument over who had to fetch me, starting when I was three (imagine how you’d feel if it seems like your parents would rather leave you behind). I never understood why they had to fight so much. ######, I don’t fight so much and I’m still just a kid. It seemed like I could take better care of myself than they did of me, what with their continuous fights.I just never knew it could go so far.I’m a smart kid. Everyone says that, whether as praise, taunt or flattery. Everyone in school says it, everyone in the neighbourhood says it. Everyone but my parents. All the smartness in the world couldn’t help me tape my parent’s relationship back together.Like so many colossal chasms, it started out small. A squabble over whether or not to go out for dinner. How it flared into an argument about how my father feels stifled by my mother’s tendency to stay at home, I have no idea. A half-hour that repeats itself in my mind and memory and yet still makes no sense to me.“You don’t care what I want. You never have,” she said in a shaking voice.“I’d say the boot’s on the wrong foot,” he fired back in a vitriolic tone. “Says the one who-”“Stop it! Stop it both of you! I can’t stand this!” (Exit the wounded child who then runs, runs as far away from the house as possible.)And the lights of memory fade to black.I walk down the street now, thinking over a hundred things. As I approach the schoolyard, I see so many friends and none of them mine. No, I’ve had no friends in a while. Only people who pretend to like me then backstab me. That’s what you get for being different and smart at the same time. That’s what children, the vicious creatures they are, do to someone who has problems. I’ve been the prime object of taunts ever since the news of my parents’ breakup went global. Oh, thank you, latest “friend” of mine.I think maybe the best thing for me, would be to disappear. Vanish into the night. Somehow, suicide has never appealed to me, even in the worst of times. Out into the night, with only a rucksack. India’s full of interesting places. I could go on a road trip. See if my parents miss me. Maybe they’ll miss me enough to try once again for my sake. Yeah, good luck with that.Five months laterIt had been three days since we left the base camp. As I trudged forward, my shoes sank into the soft snow. As I stepped forward, I wondered, perhaps for the twentieth time, why I had chosen to come here. What insight had I hoped to gain when I first made the decision, unable to breathe, tense, stifled as I felt I was in the sheltered suburb where I had lived all my life?I reflected on the experiences I had accumulated on this trip along with the weariness in my bones and snow dusted on my shoulders. I shuddered to think of the latest of these: being trapped in a pit fall all night.I had been walking along a mountain range when I was seized with the desire to climb higher than I had ever before. As I stepped forward, eyes on the stars, I suddenly plummeted downward, falling five feet in an instant. A flash of sound caught my ear as I slipped.“Hello?” I called. “Is anyone there? I need help.”A man appeared at the rim of my vision. “Very strange animal this, talking animal.”I stared in stark disbelief. “I’m not an animal, I’m human. I fell in.”“That’s what they all say.”“What?” The word tore itself from my mouth as I felt weak. What lunatic had I encountered, a man who imagined talking animals? (Kindly ignore the months I spent doing that as a child.)“They all say they’re human. Just a ploy.”“Friend, I AM human. How can I prove it?”“Give me some money. Animals don’t carry money.”That would be alright, I thought. Or it would be if I had more than I needed.“I don’t have any money,” I called back.“There! You see, you’re an animal.”I groaned. This was going to be a long night.It took three hours and a hundred rupees to convince that insane man that I was human.For half a dozen years, I’ve been keen on extreme sports. Living on the edge seemed to relieve the inner pain I was forced to conceal: the omnipresent pain of growing up in a broken family. I suppose in a way, that I am trying to feel that I am worth something, that there’s more to life than lost innocence. Perhaps a glimpse of the world from a new perspective is what I need, to revive some zest.Companionable loneliness surrounded me as I scrabbled up another ledge, in what seems like an endless series, just burden to carry. “Why do I even bother?” I muttered, half-expecting the wall face to reply.Its mute acceptance was sufficient, yet from somewhere an answer came, almost physically audible. I scanned the landscape again, trying to perceive more. Then I saw it, a small glimmer of light among clouds, enough to reveal a sparkling panorama, filling everything with beauty and joy. The landscape seemed to gleam, embracing my question and responding with zeal and wonder. A glistening river trickled downstream. A hawk flew north, majestically beating its strong and fierce wings as its call resounded across the land. A flash of light illuminated the new day, the herald of new hope: a sign of eternal optimism for all around. For us lonely wanderers of the night. For me.“So this is what life is!” I whispered. “Would you believe such wonder?”The rock face had no opinion but the sunlight seemed to twinkle at me.-----One day, I was idly thinking about MNOG II. I've always loved the title "The Final Chronicle" and was wondering about what it really meant. Suddenly, the idea behind this story struck me and I began penning down the first paragraph. I later combined it with a short story I had written about a young adult hiking in the mountains, in search of a raison d'etre.Hope you like it.
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Symbolical Agnareth was a Glatorian of the Ice Tribe. He had lived in the Hidden City since he was born from Tul ‘hmee and Zakishta. His father Tul ‘hmee served the Third King with loyalty, even when said king got banished from his own people and sent into exile; his mother Zakishta had been one of the most known weavers of the Sacred Realm and her works were renowned as the most beautiful in the City of the Circling Mounts.Tul ‘hmee died at the side of his King in an attempt to defend him from an ambush: Zakishta followed him into the Rooms of Waiting shortly before. Her heart couldn’t withstand such a great loss, the loss of her companion.So, Agnareth grew alone and rich. When his parents died, he was already an adult, but he was older, in the inside. The grief he felt for them was grand and he grew faster in the soul. His black eyes reflected this sorrow, being them sad and, for most of the time, half-closed, as if he couldn’t watch the world without seeing it empty of his dears.However, his fame was great. He took the place that he inherited from the father, which means Personal Guard of the King, but his mother’s love for crafting things from simple materials was strong. Therefore he left his job in the hands of one of the most respected warriors of the City, the Ninja, or the Snake-eyed, as he wanted people to call him. Then, Agnareth started an activity as smithy, this way honoring the memory of both of his parents.A few years later, someone broke the walls of his Winter and let Spring flourish in his heart. He met Lywesha the Kind during a summer evening, when he was attending an assembly of the City’s artisans. She was the daughter of the City’s most important merchant. As their sights crossed, they both knew Destiny had prepared the World for them to live together.So they started living together. The merchant, father of Lywesha, agreed happily to Agnareth’s proposal: he knew that he was a honest man and a strong defender. After an year, their twins, Luuktosh and Finwë, were born.---The life of this family was always calm and cheerful. The elders worked with great results, the sons resulted to be very intelligent and fair. But a famous Glatorian proverb says that “if Destiny gives you something, it will someway take it back”. And so it happened.Peace ended when a mysterious illness hit the City. Many died because of it, many others died for the famine it caused in the fields: most of the victims were peasantries, so their lands got abandoned. On that same year, Lywesha, Luuktosh and Finwë perished: they all contracted the illness.Agnareth cried a week without stopping. He lost his dears, most of his friends and most of his workers. He hated Destiny for its brutality and his behavior changed drastically: from that day, no one ever saw a smile on his face again. He became grumpy and rude. There was no more reason to live, in his opinion, but he couldn’t suicide. He always mocked that way of dying and there was any other choice for him but living to not contradict himself.---Chronicles wouldn’t speak of him if he didn’t do something important during the Great Events. In facts, he’s a very important character in the Story of the World.When War started, he was serving as a soldier. He thought that military exercise would have diminished his rage and it actually did a bit. While training or during battles, he was always speechless, nor he did yell when running into the chaotic cocktail of bodies and iron pieces.And in silence he left. One night, while patrolling the Walls, an enemy sharpshooter hit him in the torso, really close to the heart. It was the first act of the Siege.Agnareth didn’t resist for long. His body and soul were crashed to the deepest. Around him, the doctors watched each the other. They knew he was dead.One of them left the room to give the results to Agnareth’s colleagues and friends. There was no need to speak. A brief nodding confirmed them that he died.---In the meanwhile, the Siege started and the Enemy showed its full potential, striking hard the City and breaking the Walls in no time. The City was lost, desperation and fear spread through it. Agnareth’s corpse was taken at the last moment by his closest friends. They buried him in the Fortress.His smile, alone between many sad and desperate faces, told them he finally met his dears.
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MILCOM Transcript N.293-7-840 Transcripts of Military Communicationsof day 7, March 61 F.T.G.R., serialnumber CKS-7561-A10-X-367432309Classified as: HIGHCOM - Secrecy Priority 1Read and approved by: High Council of New AteroOn day 26, June 70 F.T.G.R.-- Start of transcripts --“Kilo five-one and Kilo five-two, please respond. I repeat, respond.”“Echo-Bravo-five, watch out!”*explosion*“INCOMING!”*another explosion*“Kilo five-one, Kilo five-two! Where’s you? We need ya here immediately!”“Echo one, Kilo five-one and five-two here. What’s up?”“ANOTHER ‘NADE! SCATTER!”*big explosion*“You’re asking me what’s up, while we’re getting kicked by those foolish demons right on the bottom of our backs, to say the least!”“Calm down, Echo one, and report.”“Okay. We need an EVAC now. Echo-Charlie squad is gone, and half of Echo-Bravo has followed ‘em.”“Roger that. Clear the landing zone and we’ll get ya back to home.”“SUPPRESSING FIRE!”“I can’t clear a landin’ zone for you, guys. We’re outnumbered. What the- “*huge explosion*“Echo one! You okay? Echo one, report!”“Aww. Okay. Still here. Go on.”“FRAG OUT!”*distant explosion**screams*“You’ll have EVAC and support. Don’t give up.”“Never done it. By the way, what type of support?”“We’ve got Team Commando on board. Is that enough?”“Glad to hear this. We’re waiting for you.”“Copy that. On our way.”“Full powered engines, Captain. We need to save those poor soldiers. Commander, you ready?”“Affirmative.”“How will you get on the battlefield?”“Just one moment. Echo one, do you hear me? I’m Commando one.”“Affirmative, sir.”“How many enemies are there?”“More than one and a half hundred.”“Thanks. Closing communications. Okay, kids, listen up: we’ve got more than one and a half hundred tangos. We’ll get to the ground by parachute. Throw your incendiary grenades while falling. Detach parachutes when you’ve reached safe distance. Got it?”“SIR, YES, SIR!”“Good. How long for the drop time, pilot?”“One minute, sir.”“Okay. C’mon kids, prepare to drop!”“I can’t find my parachute, sir!”“Look above your head, moron.”“Oh. Whoops. Eh, forgot about that…”“Like always, Commando five.”*bombs start exploding near the vehicle*“We’re above the battlefield, Commander! You better start dropping!”“Solid copy. Let’s rock them! Five, you go first.”“Why me?”“Oh, I forgot why…”“You’re no fun, boss.”“Shut up. Get ready. Three…”“Two…”“One…”“HOO-RAH, FIVE!”*whirling air**a parachute opens*“I’m flying, sir.”“Good. Two, Three, Four. Drop together.”“Give us the mark, sir!”“Whenever you want!”“HOO-RAH, SIR!”“Cya later, kids. Okay, pilot. I’m goin’. Stay above the safe distance. Better not see another Spirit downed.”“Definitely better, sir.”“Have a good morning, Kilo five-one and five-two.”*drops**opens parachute*“Okay, Commando. Maneuver your parachutes to let everyone to be at the same distance from the ground.”“Copy that, Commander. That sounds odd, doesn’t it?”“What, Five?”“Well, if you think about it, sir, you should be Commando Commander.”“Permission to proceed, sir?”“Go, Three.”“Yay! Three, two, one… FACEPALM!”“Hey, would you kindly stop this meme?”“I forgot to, Five.”“Oh, I’m shutting up.”“Yo, kids, stop the jokes and ready your guns. I’ve got tangos in my sight.”“Kilo five-one and Kilo five-two, where’s Commando?”“Look over your head, Echo one.”“What…? Oh. I see ya. Bring the rain, brothers.”“Sure. Start shooting, kids.”“HOO-RAH!”*rifles fire**grenades explode*“Teach ‘em who’s boss!”“Commando One, you’re approaching objective. You better start detaching your parachute.”“Got it, AI. Team Commando, detach your parachutes!”*bodies land onto the battlefield*“Okay, soldiers, we’re here.”“I see. Glad you came.”“We’re in the Army for this, Echo one.”“WOO-HOO! EAT THIS! HAHAHAHA!”*HMG firing*“Is he alright, Commander?”“Yeah. He may not be good at jokes, but Five’s a good soldier. Perhaps a little bit too enthusiastic…”“Hmmm, it really looks like so.”“HAHAHAHA! TASTE IRON!”*HMG and Assault Rifles firing**a few grenades explode*“Commander, they’re fleeing.”“Copy that, Three. Keep firin’.”“C’MON! I’VE GOT ENOUGH FOR EVERYONE!”“Stop firing, Team Commando. They’re gone.”“Now that I was starting enjoying it…”“There’ll be another time, Five. Kilo five-one, Kilo five-two. Do you hear me?”“We read you. What’s up?”“EVAC ready.”“On our way.”“Team Commando, keep the area safe!”“Sir, yes, sir.”*few minutes of silence**two Spirits approach the landing zone*“Okay, jump in, everyone.”“They’re coming back, Commander. Permission to fire?”“Affirmative.”“Present for you, dirty faces.”*Spirit’s ( maybe Kilo five-one ) HMG firing*“Everyone’s onboard, let’s go!”“Solid copy!”“Okay, Echo one. Now we’re safe, so, report. Two, take notes.”“Three soldiers WIA, fifteen KIA. They attacked us while we attempted to reach the bunker. We’ve never reached it, as you should have seen.”“Okay, we’re taking you to a safe place. We all need to take a rest.”-- End of transcripts --Written by: Oracle ( New Atero’s AI)On day 25, June 70 F.T.G.R*Folder N. 293, Section “Operation: COUNTERATTACK”, Shelf “War of the Hidden City”*
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Song of Reconciliation His name was Turgon.He lived near the shores of the sea, in Ga-Wahi. However, he lived as a Matoran in Ta-Wahi, because he was a Matoran of Fire. When he got transformed into a Toa to protect Mata Nui from evil, he decided to move to the quiet sands of the white beaches near the endless water.This caused him to be called “the Good Traitor”, for he abandoned his home village to live forever by the sea. Because indeed Fire ran inside his body, but its speed was low and it was slow to rage, as much as it was slow to forgive crimes: he seemed much more like a Toa of Ice, but he wasn’t silent at all. He loved to speak, laugh, discuss and have fun. His soul was a mixture of many elements, but none of them stood above the others. He was a sort of hybrid.He hated war. It destroyed the silence he liked so much. But when he was called to arms to defend his friends, he didn’t hesitate. The Fire inside him rose and burnt his patience. In facts, Turgon was calm in everyday time, but he was merciless in battle, if said battle compromised the sake of his dears.War spread through the Matoran Universe and Turgon ran where he was needed to be, helping innocents and defeating evil at any cost. For his acts of undoubted bravery, he earned the name of “the Wrath of Fire and Water”.Then something none ever thought to be possible to happen happened: Makuta won. And war seemed to be lost. All seemed to be gone forever. But he didn’t surrender and followed the Toa Nuva in their desperate attempts to gain ground on the overwhelming Evil.---As the Matoran Universe robot landed on Bara Magna and Rakshi got released from it to cause harm and destruction, Turgon went after Tahu and Takanuva to fight the Enemy.But Destiny was behind him: a Rakshi squad detected his presence and attacked him from behind. They kicked him into a deep and long river, then they went back to their headquarters.Desperation captured the hearts of the Matoran and the Toa when they discovered Turgon was not to be found and they presumed him to be dead.In the meanwhile, the Final Battle went on without his support. Toa and Glatorian fought the Dark Armies, knowing they couldn’t beat such an evil power. They desperately raised their weapons against the enemies’ ones, hoping to have the chance to survive enough to take with them as many as they could.---By then, all seemed to be lost. But a sudden yell of the Rakshi stopped for a little bit the raw cruelty of the actions and made everyone look towards the same point: a Toa, clad in red armor and holding a white sword, came out of the nearby river. His eyes looked like flames, while water drops fell to the ground from his body.Beautiful and great as never before, Turgon rose from the river he were threw into to get his revenge. The warriors that retreated to the water line before they could reach their mates gained a new hope: they charged the enemies, having such a skilled swordsman as leader.The Rakshi stepped back, terrorized by the fierce and cruel face of Turgon. The strength of Fire burnt inside him, the tactics of Water were like a flood in his mind, the raw edges of Ice filled his heart. He destroyed as many enemies in that single day as he did in his whole life.However, the Enemy was too strong, even for his fury. His teammates fell, one by one, at his side, and he was forced to retreat to the river which every Rakshi thought had been his death. But he didn’t minimize his rage: if possible, it grew.Suddenly, the enemy legions stepped aside to make their Leader walk to the victim it claimed to be its. The Leader was conscious that Turgon had to been stopped, because many of its best warriors fell under his strikes. And so began the duel which passed to the memories of everyone with the name of “the Lighting of the White Sword”. In facts, Angarauth, “The Judge”, as Turgon’s sword was called, had been filled of the light of the stars when its creator, Renstel, shaped it for the eternity. And every time its metal touched another weapon, it shined of bright light.The Rakshi Leader used a black mace and every hit from it was like a thunder. But the Leader got tired of the fight soon and its eyes hurt due to the intense light of Angarauth. So the Leader gave a rapid glance to one of his servants, which went behind Turgon and tried to assassinate him. But the Toa was an expert and attacked the Rakshi before this one could strike. The ambush cost the life the Toa: the Leader waited only for this. It raised its mace to finish its enemy. Turgon was skilled enough to expect something like that, so he stepped on the left side.Destiny, once again, won against him: the mace hit the ground so violently that Turgon was sent flying until his metallic body met a stone. The impact wounded him and the Leader caught the chance to definitely kill him with a dagger, so it charged on the nearly dead Toa. The blade went deep in the body of the Toa and met with his heart, but his spirit was too strong to die that way. So, Turgon raised Angarauth for the last time and put it in throat of the Leader, extinguishing life in it. Then he drew the sword out of the corpse of his enemy and, thinking to a hot summer day in his old wooden hut on the beach, he died.---When the Final Battle ended and the Peace won the fight with the Darkness, the peoples of Spherus Magna reunited where Turgon fell. His corpse was no longer there: the Rakshi which saw their master dying threw him into the river, being their dirty spirits enraged for the loss of their great Leader. Some say the red armored body shined of a gentle light when it drowned in the cold water. It was never found again.The acts of Turgon still echoed in their memories, so the leaders of the free people of Spherus Magna put a tombstone where the brave Toa gave his last strike to the Evil. It was called “the Wrathstone”. On it, they wrote the following words, which were called “the Eulogy of the Hero of the River”, as Turgon was later called: Our victory was close to yours. But you didn’t have the chance to admire the new world. We’ll always live in the memory of your actions and honor you as the One who killed his Killer. We’ll honor you as the Hero of the River. You will always live in our hearts as one of the heroes of the Final Battle. And we hope that on the Final Days Angarauth the White will rise again to fight the Last Evil. Here fell Turgon of Ga-Wahi. Here rose our hope. ---Turgon’s name and valor were never forgotten by the people of Spherus Magna. Therefore, every year a ceremony was held near the Wrathstone: people came from the farthest regions of the known world to honor him. They came to the mute, empty tomb carrying a sword with themselves. When they had to leave, they put the sword in the ground. So that place was also called “the Hill of the Crying Swords”. And for centuries, until the World changed its face, none of the enemies of the free people of Spherus Magna profaned that place, for the fear of the Wrath of Fire and Water. --- Many of the Toa and Matoran liked to think that, descending the river and being helped by the gentle water creatures which he loved so much, Turgon’s corpse, still holding Angarauth, arrived to the Great Sea. They liked to think that he finally arrived where the beautiful island of Mata Nui once stood and that at last he stopped his journey right were his old home was, on the white shores of Ga-Wahi.
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I will return The traveler went alone in the desert. He and the landscape were one and the same, their colors being mixed.He went alone, while his friends were watching him walking him towards their old homes. Some of them cried, others sighed.All around the crowd, silence. Even the wind was quiet, even the wild beasts were still, even the dry sun soothed its cruel light.He went alone, while they all thought the same thing: how possibly could such a small figure be master of… everything?As they saw his yellow, dirty, scratched armor disappearing inside their old homes, a young female started singing.---On Bara Magna, there was a famous song. Only the eldest ones did remember their grandfathers’ memories about when it was first sung by those who believed the Great Cataclysm wouldn’t have been the end, but a new beginning. They were great warriors, simple carpenters or blacksmiths and poor people, all sharing the idea that there was still hope. They said “There’s always hope”.---Her voice was strong as a rock and, simultaneously, clear like pure water. While she sang, their homes rose above the clouds.On her shoulder, a little beetle snapped its jaws, saluting the only one who understood it.The song went on.All that is gold does not glitter,The old robotic body stood high in the sky, towering on the ground. It moved some unsure steps; it seemed to be falling in few minutes.Not all those who wander are lost;Surprisingly, the titan finally took control of itself. However, it still looked like its old structure couldn’t stand so much weight.The old that is strong does not wither,Deep roots are not reached by the frost.The giant passed this trial, too. It was surely old, but it had been made by skilled people, by those it wanted to meet.From the ashes a fire shall be woken,A sudden, hard rumble broke the silence. Both small and high people watched to the direction where it came from and all fell in doubt: another giant was coming. But this was bigger and stronger. And driven by Shadows themselves. When it landed, the mountains quaked and the seas stirred, the trees prepared carpets of leaves for the ruler of everything and the rivers moved out of their banks to meet and serve him.The two giants stood in silence, then they spoke. The small one talked about joyful things, about peace and harmony; the other told him about power and terror.At first, the words clashed. Then came the turn of the facts. The two bodies fought, the smaller beings ran away, scared. The young voice went on singing.A light from the shadows shall spring;Beams of energy crossed the air, pulverizing everything in their path, and smaller, yellow creatures attacked the undefended fugitives. Some brave warriors tried to stop them, but they fell under the superior power of the Enemy. Though, an help came from the enemy giant itself and a few powerful warriors helped the inhabitants. One was clad in a golden and red armor.Renewed shall be Blade that was Broken,A lucky strike of the Enemy split it, but the desperate strength of the few won against the arrogant of the many and the Golden Armor was once again united.A powerful ray came from it and went straight on to the yellow beasts, killing them and distracting the bigger giant. In moments, it was gone forever.The crownless again shall be king.The other stood for the last time and filled the reunited planet with life. Then, the robot form disintegrated into dust and the spirit of Mata Nui went back to the Ignika. Agori, Matoran, Glatorian, Toa, Turaga, Rahi: they were all free.Kiina stopped singing. A tear slipped down her face and fell on the grass grown on the sands.As the Great Spirit pronounced his last speech, he thought: “ I‘ve set out to save the universe, and it has been saved. But not for me. This is my gift for you, for all your efforts.”The sun went down, just to rise again on a new world.Lotr quotes:“All that is gold does not glitter,Not all those who wander are lost;The old that is strong does not wither,Deep roots are not reached by the frost.From the ashes a fire shall be woken,A light from the shadows shall spring;Renewed shall be Blade that was Broken,The crownless again shall be king.”- The Fellowship of the Ring, Book 1, Chapter 10 “Strider”“There is always hope.”- Aragorn to Haleth son of Hama, The Two Towers ( film ), scene before the battle at Helm’s Deep“We’ve set out to save the Shire, Sam, and it was saved. But not for me.”- Frodo to Sam, The Return of the King ( film ), The Grey Havens scene
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Divided We Fall Written by: Grant-Sud The armor of the Toa of Stone was custom made with small lightstones in sets of three fitted along his two shoulder blades. On his torso and back, two larger lightstones were set in the center. The Toa, Jehu, was carrying an Impact Crystal Launcher and sustained a grim expression on his face.To his right, the Toa of Air, Silic, wore similar armor, holding his own personal weapon, a Zamor Launcher. He held a grin of excitement, ready for a fight.The two Toa were primed to illuminate their soon to be unlit surroundings, and in Lhikan’s opinion, the two stood like lighthouses. Placing a hand on the massive metal shell they were standing on, he concentrated, and melted a circular opening into the hull. The day in Ga-Metru was cloudy, chilling, and held an overall feeling of gloom.As Jehu stepped forward, the heated edges cooling and solidifying, the Toa of Fire looked inside the opening, and caught sight of a catwalk two meters below. Underneath the suspended charcoal colored walkway was just nothing but empty, dark space, and could stretch down however many floors.Jehu glanced toward Lhikan, who gave a nod. Then the Toa of Stone stepped off into the ship, falling and landing silently but heavily, onto the path. It remained secure. The rest of the four Toa followed one at a time. The thick clouds above Metru Nui blocked out the rays of light from outside, inside the frigate being tinted with fog and dust which seemed to swallow up what little illumination they had.There was no turning back now.Following behind their leader was a Toa of Water, a veteran named Naho who had been working with Lhikan for months now. In the center of the group, a rookie named Pelish, Toa of Psionics, walked with noticeable unease. She had been on numerous missions before, but never one that was so perilous, where everything wasn’t controlled.Naho wasn’t sure how Lhikan was going to lead the young Toa, ready to jump out of her armor at any moment. He had told her, Naho remembered when they were being briefed, as long as she followed commands and used her head, things would go well.The Toa of Water moved easily, but her eyes constantly on the shadows, where nothing should be. The catwalk ended after some descending steps, which led to solid floors. They were in a large, lonely chamber that seemed mostly hollow. The Toa of Stone and Air were the major sources of light in the room, now tinted in a whitish yellow. The silence was unnerving.It took a moment for Naho to realize they were walking in the main hanger of the frigate. Since the battle for Ga-Metru, every last boat, hovercraft and flight soldier had been used.It doesn’t feel that empty though, I can still sense the life that filled this place only a couple days ago… it’s too fresh in the air.Silic gestured to the four elevator bunkers, one stationed at the far end of each wall, seeable due to the flickering lights hinged near the doors. Lhikan paused, considered, and pointed to one.Still walking behind her leader, Naho knew it was better for Pelish to follow all orders she was given. If things went wrong, which was a possibility, then she wouldn't be responsible for the result of her actions. It would be Lhikan's blame, his burden.Naho glanced at her leader, not knowing how a being could hold that much outward strength and keep the rest hidden, however much he had buried. But Lhikan was constantly doing so as the war continued on, and he was becoming something of a heroic icon because of it. So many friends of his, they were just … gone. The list became larger every day, the latest on it being Nidihiki, who had been missing for a week.The Toa of Fire raised a hand as the platform lowered, one blade in the other and one strapped on his backside. They turned to him, waiting for him to speak.“I want this to go smoothly, no firing unless I give the order,” he turned and met his team’s eyes, giving them the same command twice, once before they entered the massive ship. “We can’t risk letting the enemy know we’re here, or setting off the ship’s power supply.“And we stay together, no matter what. Divided, and we fall.”It was the end of the Dark Hunter War on Metru Nui, or it seemed that way. The two sides of Toa and Dark Hunters had been fighting for months now, not one side overcoming the other, both having dealt heavy losses. Naho wasn’t sure how much longer they could hold out, especially with the constant resources and weapons being shipped to the Dark Hunters from other lands by sea.And then without warning, only two short days ago, their enemies had charged unexpectedly with a full force at Ga-Metru. An entire squad of Toa had arrived from the Coliseum to reinforce their allies in combat, only to find the battle over. Naho had been there with the troops, to watch Lhikan and the various survivors appear from the schools and homes, tired and broken, but safe.She had looked toward the sky. A constant drumming of rainfall covered the streets with broken pavement, crumbled buildings, uprooted plant life, and the Silver Sea around them shook with unnatural disruption, like it was crying.Ga-Metru was crying over the bodies now littered across her land.Lhikan had approached them from the field, she was hypnotized by the sight and hadn’t been able to turn away.His golden shoulder armor had been busted and cracked. His slumped form, his legs shaky, but refusing to topple. And then her eyes rose to his mask, drenched by the pouring rain and dampened. And … and his eyes were the worst. It was like the flames in them were doused, like nothing would ever rekindle them.He stared at her, silent, and she had never seen her friend that way before. It was like he wasn’t really there, as though he was somewhere else. Maybe reliving moments he wished to relive, change or even forget...It only lasted a second. Then his eyes rekindled, he was a Toa again, and never averting her eyes, pointed toward the beach.The ship had come from out of nowhere during the battle, flying high above the sea, circular and white in appearance; dropping off Dark Hunters and firing off ballistics at Matoran Homes and Schools. It was destructive, massive, and unlike anything the Dark Hunters had brought to the city before. With that steel dragon in the sky, it could have destroyed all of Metru Nui.Energy waves from Toa and their weapons from the ground only weakened it by a degree. It had taken multiple Toa of Air to drop shoot three Toa of Earth on top of the ship. The brave Toa sent waves of earth shattering power on its hull, bringing an air machine the size of the Great Temple screeching down to its death and onto the beach. The Toa didn’t survive the crash as their bodies were flung like leaves in a hurricane.Only a day later Dume assigned a team into the dead frigate. The logic behind it was the ship’s downfall was too easy. Dark Hunters always have a second plan. A large energy source must be on the ship to power it and if it was unstable from the crash, maybe it could be used as a bomb.Pelish from outside the ship, the only Toa of Psionics in Ga-Metru, hadn’t been able to pick up thoughts from remaining Dark Hunters left inside. She believed that even if a few were masking their minds, not all of them would have been able too. The crash may have simply killed them all.Lhikan didn’t believe that, no matter how damaged the ship had become. And with such power still breathing on the Ga-Metru shore, the ship was a threat unless they took a closer look inside. Dume had recognized Pelish’s useful abilities, and had appointed her on the Team. She begrudgingly agreed.I’ve never seen such a thing as magnificent as it is terrifying, thought Naho, her mind returning to the present.The five Toa came upon a command hull, holograms lit across the walls, flickering with unreadable information. Wires stretched themselves from the ceiling and floors and computers, sparking with electricity, still being given power. The ceiling was broken, metal panels bent and curved. Small bug Rahi, somehow finding their way inside, were feasting on the alloys and electrical power, making the occasional rattle. The main, circular information terminal in the center of the room, was in complete disrepair, and over the console loomed a Dark Hunter’s body. Pelish froze at the sight of its opened eyes, unlit.Naho blinked, knowing she should have expected this. But even then she glanced to the left, where another body lay, sitting and upright against the wall, taking a long moment before averting her eyes from it. She was still unprepared. And to the right there was one … and on the top of stairs leading to the next floor below...Her breath caught, and she gave a reflexively light cough. Lhikan visibly faltered.They were walking through a graveyard.Silic’s grin disappeared as he and Jehu moved slowly apart, bringing more light to dark room. Lhikan slowly gazed across the floor and on to the terminals. No hologram of the ship’s layout he noted.The five Toa stepped forward, slowly moving and heading down the stairs. They had entered from the top of the ship, and were making their way toward the center, where the power supply was theorized to be.Jehu took the lead and moved easily. He was a young Toa, Lhikan knew, but not as unsharpened as Pelish. The Toa of Fire walked behind him, noting how much the Toa had changed over the last few months. He had once been like Silic, easy going and unburdened for a being of stone. But after so many fights, sometimes Toa just don’t recover fully. Jehu rarely spoke now, and gave up his eager personality to become a hardened soldier.It isn’t the dead and it’s not the sights or the destruction, thought Pelish, walking behind her leader, unconsciously sticking closer then need be. It’s … the silence. I can’t hear anything. I can’t hear anyone speak their open thoughts. Not a sound.Pelish’s fingers twitched nervously as they made their way through the steel hallway at the end of the steps, passing the body lying there. Her whole team had gone numb, their minds as dead as the casualties around them.So when the abrupt sound of metal clashing was heard from upstairs, the Toa team jolted and their minds irrupted as though they had all just shouted into her ears.“What was that?” Lhikan questioned, turning swiftly to catch sight of the Dark Hunter rushing toward them from behind. The event happened so quickly, that Naho would remember only seeing its singed flesh and armor - by the explosions that went off during the crash probably - and the desperateness in the eyes of their attacker. There was no question about it, whether or not the Dark Hunter was successful at this suicidal charge, he was going to succumb from his own injuries at a moment’s time.Lhikan didn’t flinch as his unit did. “Move!” he shouted with sharp authority, slashing his blade upward from underneath. A trail of intense fire soared across the hall cutting right down the middle. The three Toa behind him moved instinctively, hitting the wall, the flames missing them.“Jehu, I need a shot now!”Immediately the furthest Toa locked eyes with the Dark Hunter as it ran through the flames, pain on its face. With steel precision Jehu swiftly raised his weapon and aimed…With a sharp, crack, a crystal exploded across the Dark Hunters chest, instantly halting him. He took a breath, glanced down, and opened his mouth as if to speak.Then the crystal grew with a mighty grip on its victim, forming a miniature tower in only an instant, bursting through the ceiling and floor. It was like a glacier being created, with the crackling sound of ice and all.The five Toa stared at the frozen Dark Hunter, his ice prison with an outward smoothness comparable to the Ko-Metru knowledge towers. He was suspended, feet above the ground the ice holding him up, feeling no pain. He was still alive, but it didn’t matter. By the time the Toa would be able to retrieve him from the weapon’s effects …No, Lhikan didn’t have to say anything, and turned away with hidden effort, causing the rest to slowly follow; leaving the being in his final living hours, lifeless.***They entered a corridor with doors along the walls, numbered. Naho figured they had reached the barracks.Toa Lhikan glanced at Pelish.“I need you to do a constant sweep of the area. Do you sense anyone?”She closed her purple eyes, unseen elemental power stretching out. After a moment she answered.“No. I can’t detect anyone yet.”“Keep giving me reports, I’d rather not have another incident like that one…” Lhikan kept a straight face, one even Naho couldn’t see through. “We’ll be prepared next time.”What was he thinking Pelish? Naho wanted to ask suddenly. Who was the last person the Dark Hunter chose to dream about?She tried not to dwell about it. Naho had been constantly fighting for months. Why was it now that feelings of guilt crept up along her spine?…Can you tell me what he was going to say to us?They continued to move down the hall, passing each room, the doors all looking the same. Some of them were left open, and you could see the bunkers inside and personalization of the individual quarters.“I wonder if the crash killed all these Dark Hunters.”Lhikan glanced at Naho, “What do you mean?”“It just seems odd, doesn’t? That so many Dark Hunters were killed. I would have thought more of them may have survived.”Silic was taking up the rear and spoke aloud.“Maybe they just weren’t prepared for a collision. Maybe they believed this ship was unstoppable.”“Or, maybe they believed it was stoppable. If anyone was taken prisoner incase their plan failed, well … there are some things you don’t want your enemy to know. Plans, secrets, locations, the list goes on, things you sacrifice to keep safe. Maybe some of them committed suicide instead of losing even more of what they had.”And everyone quieted down.Pelish raised her head to Lhikan’s theory. The next few minutes felt like hours later, when she sensed a presence.“Lhikan, someone’s nearby…” she whispered.The Toa of Fire halted, as did Jehu in front of him. He raised his launcher toward the dark passage.“Alright, we move nice and slow. Pelish, keep a look out for where our enemy is coming from,” Lhikan ordered, his instincts and commanding persona taking over once more.The rhythmic footsteps echoed down the lifeless hallway, as they continued, room by room. They entered through a small medic station, a weapon’s room in shambles, and one room that’s purpose was unidentifiable now.“I … can’t sense him anymore.”Jehu looked over at his friend, speaking for the first time, “Do you mean he’s passed?”“No. I think he’s hiding. I keep sensing him… fade in and out.”Lhikan glanced over his shoulder, waiting for further explanation.“It’s like, he isn’t there, and then he is,” the Toa of Psionics struggled with the words. “I can’t explain it, I’m sorry.”Naho couldn’t deny feeling a little terror creep up through her once more.“Now he’s near again.”“Where?” Lhikan asked, his tone a little sharper than necessary. Silic pulled his weapon in closer.The five Toa stopped in a large open room with two stairways along the walls, which led to two doorways and another catwalk leading to both from across the room. At the far end was a thick steel gate. It was unique looking, built for durability. The room was lit well, and seemed relatively undamaged, which surprised them.“Where is he now Pelish?” He questioned again, feeling a sensation of being watched.The four of them turned to her, as she looked toward each doorway, studying them. Then she turned toward the main steel door ahead.It opened, slowly, and the Dark Hunter behind it made no attempt at being subtle, yet seemed calm. He was a giant. Large in form he stood a Toa’s length and a half, with a stare as cold as the dead. He entered the chamber one step at a time and stopped a good few yards away from the team.The Toa withdrew their weapons.“Surrender, we have no need to harm you,” Lhikan offered, knowing the answer he’d receive.The Dark Hunter stood silently, staring them down. After a long moment he spoke in a deep, older voice.“You are here on my home. I have no reason to surrender, and you are not welcome here.”The Toa of Fire knew there was some truth to that.“We don’t want to harm you,” he said again, this time unhesitating.The Dark Hunter’s eyes narrowed in real anger, the first he had shown. He raised his weapon and fired.It was a six round blaster, nothing Lhikan had seen before. But the projectile was missile based and they were too near the center of the ship now to risk any explosions.“Naho, Silic, contain it!” their leader commanded quickly moving from the oncoming mini rocket.Instantly Naho raised her two hand blades, small, though perfect for hand to hand combat, and Silic raised his left hand. A surrounding bubble of water enclosed itself around the missile and an implosion of air set it off. The explosion was quieter and contained to the point of minor damage, water drizzling over the Toa.“There’s someone else … he keeps disappearing,” Pelish spoke softly.Jehu open fired on the Dark Hunter, the crystal ammunition spreading across its body before … shattering. The Toa team looked on in surprise. He was immune to the effects of the ice and it couldn’t grow quick enough before breaking apart. He had some kind of shielding energy.Pelish’s eyes opened, coming out of her concentration.“I sense him! He’s below us!”Lhikan glanced at her before turning to the floor, the metal began to bend and rumble.“Someone is attacking from below!” he shouted, the blades in his hand igniting with flames.The team separated away, watching the shadow shoot upward into the air. Lhikan couldn’t describe what he saw. It vibrated and moved through the solid metal easily, arms outstretched and legs bent as though it had just leaped. Its body was in constant movement, as though every molecule that made up its structure refused to stay still. It had bright silver eyes and as it floated in the air for brief moment, they shown down, narrow, on the Toa team with quiet resentment. All of five of them watched, unable to turn away from the phenomenon, before it vanished instantly.Lhikan snapped out of it first, he turned to Pelish.“Where is he!” it wasn’t a question.Naho pointed toward the catwalk above the muscular Dark Hunter. There it stood. Naho watched as it teleported again, moving through the metal walkway and on to the floor in front of its ally. The large Dark Hunter simply nodded, and without turning to catch it, the smaller one teleported again. He moved forward toward the Toa.“Brace yourselves!” Jehu shouted as the creature came upon Silic, tackled and ran with him across the room. The Toa of Air found himself against the wall, damaged from the impact. He felt like drifting into sleep.“Lhikan, he’s using an advanced speed technique!” Naho shouted.Her leader nodded, “Follow him!”Lhikan watched as Naho activated her Kakama, instantly moving quicker than his eyes could follow. Moments later the seemingly intangible Dark Hunter was on the floor from Naho’s instant assault, half righting itself up before disappearing with a high speed.Pelish ran toward Silic, and as Lhikan heard the sound of rockets being fired off from the large Dark Hunter they had neglected, he knew things were about to go very, very wrong.***In her accelerated movement, the world seemed to slow before her. While using her mask she couldn’t activate her water powers at that speed. So when she fought her opponent, the strategic factors listed off in her head.The Dark Hunter stood at a Toa’s height, and had a Toa’s build. His body seemed more compact at these speeds, but still it shifted like a hologram constantly. He was fast, too fast.Naho ran up the stairs at a pace normal through her eyes, following him. Every step he took made dents into the steel frames of the stairs. His constant speed harmed anything he touched. She wondered if he had the ability to turn his powers off.Reaching the end of the stairway, on the catwalk above the battle below, the Dark Hunter turned to meet her. Naho didn’t hesitate, and leaped in the air bringing a swift kick toward his chest. He caught it in mid air, and swung her around into the safety rails. She felt the impact and grunted. Her vision blurring and with her concentration distracted, the world flowed into real time again.Don’t stop. If you slow down he’ll destroy you in a moment. Move, move!With determination Naho activated her mask once more, rolling just as the Dark Hunter struck where she was against the bar, breaking it in two.She pushed up with one arm and slashed with the other, bringing a blade across his shoulder, an unanticipated move. She heard him cry, a quick gasp with a flash of anger spreading across his disfigured face. He could be harmed, but only while she was moving at a similar speed to his.Naho swung her other arm toward him, and he caught it in midair.‘You have no chance…’Her eyes widened, not expecting him to be able to speak. It sounded distant, in her mind. His fingers were wrapped around her wrist, even though it felt only like a force, not like flesh, not warm or even cold.With a quick movement she twisted away and charged with knives in hand. He dodged, dodged the second blow and brought a swift kick to her side. She moved backward, and with a shocked expression, felt the kinetic waves of sound and air rumble around her, causing her to hold on to the rail. She glanced at the room below her, seeing it covered in fire and smoke. Her team was just hit with multiple sudden explosions.She stared at the Dark Hunter before her, who hadn’t been fazed by the blasts at all, letting each wave move through him. He only stared, unmoving, angrily tempting her to charge at him again while they moved down the stairs.But they both knew the truth. He was much faster than she was. Naho was going to lose this fight, and once she did, there would be no one left to stop him.***Lhikan’s mind was scattered in a haze, the smoke thick and heavy. He had lost sight of everyone, and began to right himself up.Both firesword blades in hand, he activated his Hau on maximum, standing still.Listening for movement, he tried to see the shadows and lights through the smoke. It cleared a little and he caught sight of a fallen Silic, desperately firing Zamor spheres at the massive Dark Hunter who brushed off the electrical energy blasts as if it was nothing, stepping toward to the Toa of Air. Bringing both his swords forward, Lhikan fired a projectile of intense flames, soaring across the room and smothering the looming creature in heat.It barely nudged. He simply turned to look at Lhikan for a second, than it began to run to Silic, bringing up an arm to crush the Toa on the ground.“No!” Lhikan shouted loudly, firing another wave of elemental energy with no effect. As he rushed to meet his friend, knowing he’d never make it in time, a solid rock pillar erupted from the ground before Silic, moving at an angle impacting the giant into the chest. The Dark Hunter was pushed back in surprise, as Jehu leaped from the smoke behind Silic and over him, running with unstoppable force up along the pillar and throwing both his arms into the Dark Hunter’s shoulders, brawling on strength alone.Lhikan never stopped his charge and ran to the side of the Dark Hunter, slashing at his legs. The scorching mark that should have remained there didn’t. He was resistant to all energy attacks. Lhikan moved quickly, but not quick enough to dodge his enemy’s blow from behind. Jehu leaped and gave a solid punch to the being’s face.The Dark Hunter stumbled back, but reached out and grabbed the Toa by the shoulder. With a mighty cry he flung the Toa of Stone across the room into the catwalk, the metal bending as he crashed into it. Jehu was caught and remained still within the steel. Then he slipped free from the grasp and landed on the ground with a soft thud, unmoving.Pelish screamed Jehu’s name, infuriated and stepping forward on the battle field with a defense staff in hand. With swift movements she slashed at empty air, sending invisible blasts of telekinesis at the monster. His body constantly shook with the blasts, feeling each impact as he fell to the wall behind him.It all happened too quickly for Lhikan to object. Silic appeared from the air with Jehu’s Crystal Launcher, landing in the Dark Hunter’s arms, which latched on to him, squeezing him. Silic began to cry out and stopped Pelish in shock, not knowing how to save her friend.“You’re going to die Toa…” The Dark Hunter whispered as he crushed harder, the Toa’s armor bending.Silic pointed the launcher downward, and with a blast of crystal he answered with a smug grin on his face. The ice on the ground beneath the Dark Hunter and Toa had plenty of time to form. The giant’s eyes narrowed as the crystal grew over him and the Toa, trapping them both.***Pelish kneeled before Jehu’s lying form and reached out, placing her fingers against his mask.“Is he going to be alright?” She asked quietly.“He’s still breathing, but we need to get him help.”Lhikan looked him over. The Toa of Stone was in worse shape than he thought. His back was ... bent in an unnatural way. His eyes weren’t even fully closed, slightly lit at the rims. He didn’t seem to be aware they were watching him.“And … Silic?”“Silic is safe. The effects of the Crystal are only meant to trap, not kill.” The Toa of Fire looked toward his frozen companion’s way. It was a bold move, distracting the Dark Hunter to give a clear shot that would freeze around the shield of the enemy. But it was at a cost. They were down two Toa.“Pelish, I need you to find Naho.”The Toa of Psionics stared at Jehu’s limp form, she remained silent. Lhikan watched her, knowing what she must be feeling. But they didn’t have time for that now.“Pelish!” He said sharply. She flinched and looked up at him.“Sister, I need you locate Naho. She’s in trouble.”“Yes … It’ll … take a minute.”“Try. And then you’re going to strike him.”“Me?”“Yes. Your elemental attacks aren’t physical. If you find his mind, you should be able to repel his body.”“I’ve never had to concen-”“Pelish, she’s still fighting that … thing. We have to help her.” He turned toward the open room, waiting for some sign of battle. He didn’t have to look and see Pelish close her eyes, searching for the Toa moving at high speeds.Then his eyes caught sight of Naho and the Dark Hunter as they became visible, just for a moment, like a flash. Flashes of Naho with a knee to her stomach, a punch to her mask…“And she’s losing,” he finished, suddenly needing to find something, some way to help. But this was all Pelish. He couldn’t do anything at that level of energy.“I’ve almost found her…” Pelish could sense them, on the stairs, on the floors, on the catwalk. They were fighting at all places at once it seemed. But she knew that wasn’t true. They were in one place at everyone one moment…Find them…“There!” Pelish shouted, eyes snapping open with a hand stretched toward the field. Lhikan desperately watched the empty floor. Did she hit him?Then the Dark Hunter appeared, and flew into the wall by a wave of telekinetic energy. Naho reappeared moments later just as instantly, gasping and moving toward her team.“He hasn’t been defeated yet,” she coughed, uneasiness over coming her from the fight.“I know. Not yet,” Lhikan replied raising his blades forward, and blasted a comet of flames toward the wall where the Dark Hunter stood, frozen in surprise as the heat rushed toward him. The explosion lit the whole room, and died down quickly.The three Toa looked on in silence.And the Dark Hunter walked out of the flames.***The hallow echoes, the unnatural hissing sounds of the fires inside the chamber, the reflective light off of the crystallized beings, all of it somehow merged together creating an unspoken art form. It was a battlefield, one that had been fought over for a long period by beings who struggled through their wills and strength.Lhikan’s blades were held before him, glowing in a soft orange and red. Naho held her own blades, mind primed to activate her mask at a given moment. Pelish held her hands forward, pulsing energy moving the air around her fingers.The Dark Hunter glared toward them with his silver eyes, shifting like an illusion.Wordlessly he charged forward before disappearing.Naho grunted and disappeared as well, their bodies vanishing and reappearing with blinding speed. Pelish looked on, trying to follow their movements, before Lhikan gave a shout of surprise. A kick to his side by the assassin brought him to the ground. Pelish immediately moved toward him, seeing the Dark Hunter’s image as he stood still. The Toa of Psionics slashed through his body with her staff, only an afterimage of where he was.She wasn’t surprised, but the pain that seared through her arm as it was twisted back, brought Pelish gasping for air. In a moment she was slammed into the wall. She felt the force off of her arm, and onto her neck. When her sight readjusted she found the Dark Hunter’s hand on her throat. She couldn’t breathe.Naho reappeared before them in the center of the room and Lhikan stood up. His anger seeped over him like a roaring forest fire.“Let her go,” the Toa of Fire whispered, eyes narrowed.“Three moves. Then I end her life.”The two Toa didn’t glance at each other. But they knew what the other was thinking. They needed a plan.The Toa of Water breathed in and out, regaining the strength she needed. Then she didn’t avert her eyes to the ice forming along the walls. Lhikan was trying to freeze him, removing the heat. The Dark Hunter’s body became opaque and as he felt the sudden shift, in slight surprise, she moved in. Pelish started to fall forward, faint.Naho sped forward at the greatest speed she could muster, and brought a blow to her enemy’s mask. She watched him stumble back in slow motion, she moved forward, Lhikan moved for Pelish.But her hope was shattered in a moment. The Dark Hunter reaccelerated grabbing on to Naho’s moving arms and throwing her toward the other side of the room. Lhikan was kneed into the stomach by the unseen force, and a second blow brought his face to the ground. He rolled throwing heat energy around him. He regained his guard and looked up.The Dark Hunter caught Pelish’s body by the throat, and realigned her against the wall.“One move, and I end her life.”It was the point of no return, and the Toa were out of ideas.No, you’re not going to die Pelish. This won’t happen. Lhikan held his blades tightly at the thought. There was something he was missing, some kind of angle he hadn’t seen. He had to make sure she lived through this, and become a great Toa, like she was meant to be.I swear it.And as he studied his opponent’s eyes, he noticed hers open as well. They looked toward him.I am a Toa.His mind echoed with her thoughts.With a cry of defiance Pelish released a wave of energy, bending everything around her with her power. The Dark Hunter shouted in pain, his body moving away, grabbing hold of his shoulders. Whatever he felt, was a form of torture.Her eyes were narrowed and her body, though shaken, held as she unleashed the energy.Lhikan! The engine room is right below us!Lhikan held an arm over his forehead as he received the message, energy repelling back both himself and Naho. She had read their attackers mind. The main gate at the end of the room, he realized, led to it!She raised her hands back to strike him once more, before the enemy wildly moved toward her, ignoring the intensity as a Dark Hunter would. With quick movement he grabbed her neck and crushed it, stopping her.“No!” Naho and Lhikan cried out in horror, the sadness and guilt striking just as quickly and the gust of air suddenly stopping.Pelish stared down her killer for the final few moments, never leaving his eyes, quivering, but determined to stay focused to the last second. He never smiled, and just looked back as he let go of her. Then the Toa closed her eyes, and fell.***Naho charged.She didn’t think about where her attack would lead her, or the consequences. But this Dark Hunter would pay.The Toa of Water slammed into him shoulder first, driving him into the wall, never touching Pelish’s body. She reached out and stabbed him at the torso, hearing him cry out. He deflected her second thrust of the blade, but she ignored it, dropped her knife and punched him, over and over again across the body and face.She didn’t have to see what Lhikan was doing. This mission had been a failure. Too many had already been lost.But they were Toa, and their success was worth more than their lives.She didn’t have to shout for Lhikan, or tell him her plan. She was giving him time, enough to get to the engine room.An intense heat filled the air, as the Toa of Fire stabbed his blades into the floor, flames surrounding his body, bright and intense. The metal beneath him melted and he fell through the passage.Naho mentally urged him on, while she threw another blow to her opponent’s gut. The Dark Hunter pushed back and swiftly moved away from her, reappearing at the end of the room. He stood, an arm over the spot she had wounded him. But he didn’t say a word, just turned to her.“I’m going to kill you.”Her words were acid on her tongue. And it was a promise. She didn’t care how many codes she broke, this was going to be a fight to the death. His, or her own, one of them wasn’t leaving this ship alive.“I hate you.”She heard him say it. It was a choice of words she didn’t expect, but she didn’t hesitate nor care why he had. He stared at her, with no sympathy in his look. The guilt and anger that filled her pushed out all other doubts. The Toa activated her mask once more and perhaps for the final time.***Lhikan dropped roughly onto the steel ground. Before him was a large metal ring with a powerful electrical current flowing around it. The engine took up half of the room, and a widened control panel was aligned against the wall.And this was it. This was what they were searching for. The energy was intense, and he felt the immediate electric charge dwindling throughout the chamber.Find the power source, shut it off and destroy it. He thought, moving quickly.The Toa of Fire placed a hand over the controls, looking over them, studying them as calmly as he could. He knew he didn’t have much time. But the controls were precise he figured, one wrong adjustment and the whole thing could blow. It was amazing the engine had remained so preserved.‘Not that lever.’Lhikan wanted to pretend like it was the humming of the machine that echoed the voice. Slowly he turned away and looked to the center of the room. He wasn’t surprised by what he saw.The Dark Hunter held Naho in his one hand, by her arm, slowly levitating with her, toward the floor. He planted his feet firmly, and roughly dropped the Toa of Water. She lay wounded and breathed shallowly, her mask to the ground.The two regarded one another for a long moment. Lhikan had no chance. The question was why he was still alive.‘I have to know only one thing,’ the Dark Hunter’s voice echoed, ‘Why are you here?’The Toa of Fire regarded him, unsure of how to answer the question.The silver eyes glared deep into his mind. The molecules that made up his being never faltered, rapidly vibrating in a wave like pattern.‘You could have destroyed this ship from the outside. Why would you waste the advantage? Were you trying to take prisoners?’A silent response.‘From the moment you Toa stepped into this ship, I couldn’t figure it out. I thought maybe you knew something we didn’t. Are you searching for a comrade?’“No,” Lhikan answered. He gestured a blade toward the engine, without averting his eyes. “It was this.”The Dark Hunter turned to stare at it directly.‘What about it?’Lhikan’s stare grew hard. Somehow, he knew where this was going.“We thought it could be unstable from the crash. We also felt it could be used as a weapon, a last resort.”His opponent took a step forward.‘I see. You thought we’d kill our own. Sacrifice them all if things went bad. Well, you were wrong. About everything.’Lhikan was a veteran, and he’d seen a lot, and he’d heard a lot in battle. He was not a Toa to lose his cool, or let the line become blurred. Even though it seemed the engine wasn’t a real threat, there had been a chance the Dark Hunters could have used it as a self detonation. They had to have been sure.“Its war,” the Toa replied, raising his blades in response. He recalled the Toa of Earth who died in order to land the frigate into the beach. And images of Jehu and Pelish ran through his mind. “Everything is sacrifice.”The Dark Hunter with no name vanished, and Lhikan activated his mask of shielding. The first blow came to the head, a swift kick that Lhikan took, but bent his knees and slashed at where it had come from. The Dark Hunter had already moved away and gave a shattering blow to his back. His Hau took most of it, and Lhikan threw up a wall of flame around him, giving him a little protection.‘I hate Toa. I hate everything about your kind,’ Another blow, the enemy moving through the flames unaffected, his voice everywhere. Lhikan stumbled out of his circle, mind reeling. He had no power to match his enemy’s, what was he supposed to do?‘You fight for laws that you have created alone, laws that are flawed. You constant stick by them, even when others around you disregard it. Twist it.’“I have to believe in something. It’s what keeps me going.” He felt a force on his wrist, and with a sharp crack, his left hand was broken, one of his blades clanging to the floor. He brought his hand to his chest. “I have to believe in something…” he repeated again.He raised his body’s heat to ferocious temperatures, his entire form glowing in a deep orange. The Dark Hunter moved away, slightly burned and unable to touch him in that state. Lhikan’s power drained harshly, and as the heat dimmed, he backed away.‘All you Toa do is preach about destiny,’ Dark Hunter spat moving in closer, ‘But you kill when it’s suitable for you.’ He gave another strike to the mask. ‘You betray when it’s for your own advantage. And you punish us for our differences. We aren’t bind to rules like you, we hold no prejudice.’“I know,” was all he could say.‘You talk of duty as excuse for war. And you hold no guilt over the lives lost by the other side … or do you really believe the dead corpse frozen back in the Center Hub wasn’t my brother?’Breathing heavily now, his concentration dwindling. “Yes, just as she was my sister.”He fell against the wall, and the Dark Hunter, confident, appeared openly before him, Lhikan’s fallen blade, suddenly in the other’s hand.“We do our best, to walk with what we believe in. I won’t lie and say I don’t believe fighting is my duty. That dying might be my destiny. I won’t say I agree with Dark Hunters, that they are right, and we are wrong, or that it’s all just grey.”Lhikan sat to the floor, back against the wall. He looked up to meet his maker, unafraid. And the Dark Hunter couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by the stare. He was a Toa. Strong willed and wise, he wouldn’t be taken in so easily by mere words.“We are hypocrites though, yes, we are, when we speak of unity. I will admit that.”The Dark Hunter watched him wordlessly, the humming of the engine to the left of him. The soft glow of the room shone on them both, casting their shadows, even the Dark Hunter’s was full and reached out across the floor. Half of Lhikan’s face was covered in darkness, a silhouette, only his bright ruby eyes were visible.He took a calm breath.“The Dark Hunters attacked Metru Nui. But we stepped right in line and became what we swore to never become. We don’t even take names anymore. I’ve killed, and I feel nothing for it; because I think about all those who I’ve lost, and how all my enemies should suffer for it. It plagues my mind, just like it plagues yours.”Toa Lhikan coughed, slumping slightly.“I can still remember running away from you all…” he silently whispered, replayed the tape within his mind, full of Toa and Frostelus. “Running away from our fortress, holding that one precious treasure and a message; I can still see your faces. I haven’t forgotten them.” He shut his eyes, tightly.“…I’m sorry for not being there to help you.”He slowly reopened them, and fixed his eyes to the steel below. Then he looked up to the Dark Hunter who felt genuine surprise by the conflict he had just seen. Narrowed eyes full of comprehension, Lhikan’s voice was a fact now.“This war of Metru Nui, it’s exactly the same. Every moment I’m on that battlefield, I can see its lack of reason. The division it causes. By the end of the war, it’ll be too late. We’re all going to lose something important, regardless of who wins. Something we can’t gain back. It’s fitting.”The Dark Hunter watched him in silence the matter bringing them both back to reality. They were enemies. There was no mercy, even if there should be. He raised the blade, its form unnaturally solid compared to the rest of his body.“We deserve it … to all fade away in the end.”He hesitated, wavered his raised arm. And he replied.‘I’m sorry, too.’The Toa of Fire reflected at the apology, and somehow the feelings brought by Pelish’s death began to numb. He closed his eyes.The blade was brought down in a swift motion for an instant kill with no pain. Lhikan heard the echoes of that redeeming statement ring throughout his mind over and over.And that’s when they were both caught off guard by a scream. A moment away from death, and Naho rushed forward as fast as she could, slamming into their adversary activating her mask while she did so.The Dark Hunter’s eyes widened fully, but he didn’t resist as quickly as he should have, he didn’t resist the feeling of such fierce determination. She hadn’t given up her life, and maybe a small part of him had.Then Naho accelerated, vanishing with him, the force propelling them in a blur directly to the engine’s electrical power.There was a bright flash and the sound of an uproar.And then everything went dark.***Lhikan stumbled around the room, reaching out. Behind him, a holy ray of light filled with dust, shone toward the floor from the ceiling. It was Jehu and Silic’s armor still shining from upstairs, still brightening up a little of the passages.The Toa of Fire mumbled out Naho’s name, wondering if it was useless to do so. The explosion had possibly killed them both. Mustering up a little strength, a small flame appeared in the palm of his hand.The engine was in pieces, lifeless and unfixable to any degree.He took a few steps, the glow reaching across the floor. And there was the body, up against the circuitry. A Toa’s build, silver in color. No longer in a constant vibration, he was completely solid, relieved of power. His eyes were closed.Naho lay a couple yards away, and Lhikan moved toward her.To his surprise, she moved, feeling the hand on her shoulder. Breathing slowly, her eyes relit.“You made it,” Lhikan stated, a glow of satisfaction filling him.The Toa of Water gave a smile, sitting up at a minor pace, waiting for something to flare in pain. But the bruises weren’t too bad. She gazed at the Dark Hunter, her expression suddenly solemn.“We got him?” She asked, knowing the answer.“Yes. Mission successful.”“It doesn’t feel like it.”Slowly he brought an arm under hers, lifting her up to her feet.“We need to get back. We’ll give the okay to deconstruct the ship, use its parts. And we’ll need to free Silic, give Pelish and Jehu …”His voice trailed off, and Naho nodded, knowing they had waited too long to help the Toa of Stone.Quietly they both walked into the light from above. They moved upstairs, passed their comrades and the Dark Hunters who had fallen. They moved through the medic room, down the barrack’s hallway, up into the terminal, rode the elevator leading to a barren hanger, and step by step onto the catwalk.It was a long journey back, and the moment they reached the surface, the struggle ahead would be waiting for them, as always. And they might be separated in the future, as friends usually are.But for now, two were able to draw on each other’s strength in the darkest of places. They hadn’t fallen yet, one held the other up when needed, both of them standing, together.____It took me a little time to write this out. I've wanted a story about a Toa Team that travels into a dead frigate, and this contest was the perfect excuse. Thank you for reading this too long of a story, and I hope you enjoyed it! Please review or comment, as it would be appreciated. =)I've never written a story about Lhikan or Naho before, but I've always loved his character and felt an appreciation for her work in the Metru Nui Toa/Dark Hunter War. There were a lot of influences to this, but the setting I had to get from the beginning Metroid Prime or perhaps that intro in Mass Effect 2, that sense of dread gets me every time. The team was just picked out of the blue, Lhikan and Naho being the only canon characters. I was really going for a silent, war story, with a drawn out dialogue at the end, hopefully it wasn't too much.Thanks again for reading yal!EDIT: I got permission from Velox to fix up a couple of errors I of course spotted after submitting this. I'm sure there are more...
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Well, it's been a while since the last COT short stories contest...nevertheless, we are back! After the amazing response 55555 and I received from Short Stories Contest #8, we decided that we wanted to start another contest -- why not COT, and since it's around the Christmas season, why not Christmas-themed? After all, there's been a Valentine's Day short story contest, and a Halloween-themed story contest, it's about time for a Christmas one. Not just any Christmas-themed story, though -- a Sci-Fi yuletide adventure, a snowy steampunk tale, or an eerie Christmas mystery, along with a plethora of other possibilities. Theme: Write a Christmas story while keeping it in one of the following genres: ApocalypseSteampunkSci FiMysteryFantasy CLARIFICATION:Your story may be religious or non-religious (still following BZP's rules, of course -- read the FAQ for more). However, the main theme of this contest is to write a story about the “Christmas spirit,” if you will – if it’s not religious, it should focus on the elements of the secular holiday (i.e., “holiday cheer,” presents, etc.). If religious themed, you may use Christmas or another religion’s equivalent (i.e., Hanukkah [Jewish], Saturnalia [ancient Rome], etc.). In other words, it's not so much "write a story about Christmas Day" as it is "write a story about the Christmas season" (though it can be about Christmas Day if you so desire). If you need any further clarification, please ask -- I don't mind asking any question you should have. ——— How to enter:The entry period lasts from Monday, December 05, 2011 (today) as soon as this topic is posted and will end on Saturday, December 31, 2011 at 11:59 PM PST.To enter, simply post a link to your entry in this topic using the following form:Member name: Theme:Entry name and link:Any entry PMed to me or not linked in this topic will be ignored – no exceptions. ——— Contest Rules: [*]All BZPower Rules and Guidelines apply.[*]Your story must be new and never before posted on BZP. You can certainly have been working on your entry before this, but it must be posted on BZP after the start of the contest for it to be eligible.[*]No plagiarizing! Your story must be your own work.[*]No cheating. Simple enough, yes? You don't get anywhere in life by cheating. Also, if you suspect someone of cheating, PM me. DO NOT post here. [*]Keep it PG-13 appropriate. So no gory descriptions, excessive violence, inappropriate content, et cetera.[*]Your story must be a short story. No epics here.[*]No flaming, bashing, or trolling! I shouldn't even have to say this at all, but if any of this occurs, you will be disqualified immediately.[*]RULE CHANGE: You cannot edit your entry 30 minutes after it is posted. This is to 1) ensure that all judges read the same version of your story; and 2) make things more fair, as not everyone will get the same amount of critique as others. So, once you post your story, you will have thirty minutes to edit it in order to make any formatting changes or to edit your story itself -- after that, your entry will be disqualified. PM me if you have to edit for story for some reason after 30 minutes before you do so. [*]There is no minimum or maximum word count for this contest. Just be reasonable, please. Do remember that the judges have to read every story.[*]If your story is not posted in this topic with the correct format, your entry will not be entered into the contest. The contest hosts reserve the right to change, edit, or make exceptions to any of the rules. A violation of the rules will be judged on a case-by-case basis by contest staff. ——— Voting:Winners will be dictated by judges. However, certain awards will be chosen partially through polls, namely Best Character, Best Ending, Best Quote and Best Imagery. These are not finalized, and are likely to change, but you get the idea. Most Judges will be picked by the contest staff, but volunteers are more than welcome. Potential Judges are not be prohibited from entering the contest. Judges' names will not be posted until after the contest so I won't have to hurt anyone for bribing judges. If you would like to be a judge, feel free to PM 55555. ——— Prizes:Prizes will be announced later, donations welcome. Also glory. ——— FAQ:Q: Does it have to be Christmas or can I use some other winter holiday? A: Your story can feature some other Christmas-time holiday such as Hanukkah or [for those who study Ancient Rome] Saturnalia or whatever. Just as long as the holiday takes place somewhere around Christmas, it's fine. Q: Can my story be religious-themed? A: Basically, you can have your plot loosely based off a religious theme or feature some small religious things, but they cannot be the center of the story, simply because of the sensitivity of religion. Make sure if you do have any sort of religious things in your story that you do not make it “preachy” and that you do not too heavily focus your story on it. If you think it might be too much, you can PM your story to me and I’ll look it over for you. I will also be reading all the entries to make sure that they are not too religious. It’s unfortunate that religion is such as sensitive topic, but as it is, BZPower must have this rule to avoid offending anyway. Thank you all for understanding. Q: Can we use multiple genres? A: Yes, though you would possibly have to choose one specific theme to officially group it under when entering. Q: Are fanfics allowed? A: Sure, but just keep in mind judges may be unfamiliar with your subject material (unless it's Bionicle). Other questions?If you have any questions about the contest not answered above, please post them in this topic. Chances are someone might have the same question, so if you post rather than PMing me, other members can read it the answer.First, however, look through this post to see if I've already addressed your question. But if you can't find an answer, or you think something is unclear, don't hesitate to post and ask about it! ——— Contest Staff:Contest Hosts:Velox 55555Contest Assistants: Zeddy Ziko Again, feel free to ask questions here if you have any. But most importantly, have fun and get writing! It is my great pleasure to host another writing contest, and I eagerly await all the awesome entries!
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Hey everyone, some of you may have seen my story, Scars of War, and for those of you that haven't, it's right there waiting! Anyway, I'd like to eat feedback from you, to hear how I could improve, what could be changed, and so on. One of the things I would specifically like to hear is how you think I did on the characters, if they were accurate or not, but anyway, I look forward to hearing your feedback!
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There's another topic about who your favorite writers on BZP are, so I thought I'd make a topic asking you what your favorite fanfics are. So what's your favorite epic? Short Story? Comedy?-don't touch my pocket protector
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Pt one of five. Its early morning the sun is just starting to kiss the edge of the steel horizon. It's humid and the air has a thick sickly feeling to it like the breath of a hooker. I walk the pavement through the faceless endless crowds. I hear the buzz of humanity. A dozen conversations at once; angry people arguing on the phone, business deals, a mother scolding her young boys for touching a pigeon, they're full of parasites you know all kinds of nasty ones like blood worms. As I walk the side walks become cracked old concert and eventually new brick and then very old brick. Still bright red like fresh meat but very worn around the corners giving them a round look and the smooth feeling of walking on marble. Tiny weeds grow in among the bricks. I cross the street and I'm at my first destination, Benjamin Banneker Park. You know the one right? You always hear your parents talking about how nice the park used to be. It was cardigans and girls in miniskirts and kids would got there to play baseball and then they would go home and the kids would fight over the remote because the younger ones wanted to watch westerns but the older ones wanted to watch detective shows and then the mom would come in and be like "Screw you both I'm watching my afternoon soaps" ANYWAY Benjamin Banneker Park. Well do you know what it is now? Two over passes, bag ladies and cats. The place is infested with cats. So many cats that they spill over into the surrounding area. There are no birds in the park, no lizards. Just mountains of cats. I walk through the park and on to the metro station. It's early enough in the morning that bennies aren't getting on but late enough that all the commuters are at work so the metro is near empty. The floors are red and stained. The train comes to a scratching start and a loud buzz can be heard as the motors start to kick. The train shakes like a coffee grinder but it gets you from point a to point b, so theres not much to complain about. We stop at the first underground station and a businessman gets on. I watch him consumed in his blackberry, completely unaware that the hobo in the back of the train is quickly moving to sit next to him. The hobo sits really close to him and just stares until the businessman looks up. At this point theres only about six inches between their faces when the hobo yells "WANNA HEAR BOUT THE TIME I WEN' TO SPAIN!" the businessman looks scared and confused, hands him 20 dollars, and then moves to the door to get off at the next stop. The hobo looks disappointed and goes back to his original seat. I think he really did want to tell someone about the time he went to spain and wasn't just trying to scare a yuppie for some money. The look on his face is so sad and pure like the tears of a working girl, I really wished I could have heard his story but this is my stop and I have something which I can't be late for. I still feel guilty for the hobo who went to Spain
