Dante leered within the darkness; a scaled feline. Hues of blue bubbled below his calm facade. The ninth night, Rad awoke with swollen bruises dotting his limbs held by Dante's arms as they walked across the desolate scape.
"Come meet us!" His voice echoed to those who understood. In the coming day, Grease, Dante, and Kojiro would sit with one another. "We need to solve this, before it all begins again."
"I have danced across time five more times, yet have found not my selected partner," Kojiro said.
"I still can't understand how you can do that, but oh well," Grease added.
Dante: "Hmm."
"We should wait for his arrival. In the meantime, we may or may not be the only ones to know of this. Gathering as much information is most key," Kojiro said, opening his eyes to the ceiling.
"Don't worry too much, I already got that worked out. You both will know the info soon enough, especially you swordsman." Dante gave an unnerved stare before leaning back into his seat.
"So you've seen it too?" Kojiro said, closing his eyes once again.
"Not sure. You may know a bit more than I."
"Certainly, for all stories end the same, such as mine."
"What the hell are both ya talkin-bout?"
"Like I said, you will know soon enough," Dante leaned forward, clasping his heads together with surreal calm.
"Tch, both of ya are insane. I'm out of here, thanks for the help, but I don't wanna stay much longer, the sparkling water is annoying."
"I'll call you soon."
"Please don't."
Darkness marked his sight. Nishant, a serpent of the night danced with tenacity as he parried the onslaught of destruction. Reo was a bull of tentative strength, blazing through the ground ramming his shoulder through Nishant's chest. A white light laced Nishant's steel body. Flakes of black shaved away, crumbling to the searing mud below. Nishant wouldn't let go, he had never given up, but yet those inside wished to be released. In the midst of the trumpeting, Daler appeared.
"How are you Nishant? I know you are afraid of the new guy. He only recently woke up. So how bout I help, let me get a spin on this. Your tenacity is running out."
"Shut it," Nishant voiced as his body was sent flying back.
Daler looked displeased from above. "You're as stubborn as you are tough. Just let go, you'll have to one day. Atlas told us. It's the only way for him to get stronger."
"I told ya to shut it. This is my own business!"
"You forget it's not only you in here. Must I break out by force, or will you be gentle and relinquish?"
"Hah! Try your best."
A field of translucent roses bloomed, the fragrance made the giant and all lives around stammer in surprise. Rad's hair began to shimmer with sliver, luminescent cracks broke through his dulling skin. Daler opened his eyes, "fresh air, it's been a good while." A smile too charming for Rad's face curved upward. Bright eyes that held no animosity, fear surely, but nothing of the dark irritation that was priorly expressed. His chest of pride relaxed as he casually strolled up to Reo. "This is just me returning what you served." Placing his hand on Reo's chest, the sigil of the white rose glowed. Reo's body vanished faster than an eye could track. Like that the world had warped.
Daler awoke in a bed he could somewhat recall. So it's true, one does return if the conditions are met. Now then, how long? Daler got up to find a local calendar, but no dice. Strutting around the apartment he found a clock by the bar table. Two weeks. It was currently two weeks prior to the battle in District Sixteen.
"Now then, what to do? Truly cumbersome. Hmm, I think my speech is getting mixed up. He did say it could happen once we all assimilate. Either way, I suppose I should find that Hank fellow."
Daler sniffed by the beach, his nose scrunching at the crawling fear. Wisps like brown algae slithered beneath his feet. A beam of light shot from his eyes, a deep glare stunned the tendrils of fear from any further movement. He's close. No, rather the one behind him is. Daler shifted foot, leaping to the collecting woods nearby. In the road beyond he saw a sign post.
"Sol, the city of salvation. A land where all are free, a place of magic. I see now, these woods are cursed." Daler gave an uneasy chuckle. Continuing on he would enter a passage distant from reality. "I'm trapped, I can no longer be seen."
His body looked tough, on second thought, it was tough. He was the one man I always had an unsuspecting caution of. Unsettling was the best way to describe it. As if a baby could talk, it was concerning. I try to recall the first conversation I had with my grandfather. There was something there, a maturity that could only be seen in the eyes of someone young. Now what if my grandfather felt the same about another elderly individual? Wouldn't that surely be in the land of the uncanny. He, Daler, the White Whisper, the Clear Rose, and the—
"Odin, it is time. Lend me your strength." Paul prayed.
"Azhi Dahāka is not ready. Space Wizards take time to cultivate. Its essence is barely at a one percent threshold." Odin's left eye gleamed, vanishing into the future. His lungs pumped outside his ribs, his cloak was horned with mystical runes, sparking with lightning all around. His face was a helm made of fluid metal cloth that moved primarily at his voice. Crunching and shrinking with every contracting facial muscle.
"What level do you believe he should be ready?" Paul asked.
"Sixty-two—"
"What?! But then…"
"Your assumption is correct. The planet will not be able to contain the concentrated might of a Space Wizard at more than fifty percent of its strength. In essence it would be like balling up a mountain into the size of a neutrino. It can't exist. Yet it will. Within this world of ours reality bends to our whims. Once we let it loose, the world will not just be reset, but the universe as a whole."
Paul began to shiver. His ears caught the rustle far behind. "Who's there? Show thy self!"
"It is just I, Xyken." A hooded figure came into the picture, his face unnoticeable in the distorted light abound. Bell Raizer III, was the current head of Xyken, followers of Xydona: Queen of Masqueron. The Xycarnists have continued their spell over many metal rich peninsula nations, currently residing at the western front of Amevigt: a twenty-seven district city-state nation. "Devil Splitter has ordered for your return Paul. It looks like the contingency has malfunctioned and the merge we feared would happen has now begun."
"Impossible, his power shouldn't have gotten that strong."
"Not him, this new Rad fellow. He somehow copied the methods of Odin's time-travel that was gifted to Hank. Resulting in a merger of lines. If we don't take out the three entities, we will lose all our progress."
"Three?" Odin questioned, as if he couldn't see one of the figures Xyken was speaking of.
"Moacir Dawntreader. A few months ago I had him killed by my subordinate, Racing Hound. Somehow or another, Devil Splitter didn't smell his soul leave. Instead it returned to another body, as if prepared for the act of death to occur. He has ordered for the disposal of this world's host before possession and the possessed version, including Hank. That is all. Get it done." Xyken flickered away. The clock tower chimed as it grew another foot. The Space Wizard's cocoon shivered.
After the assignment I thought it would be over, me and the others would simply ride to our hearts content. Yet when he arrived, I thought myself cruel to suspect him, but my nose felt something off about him. A sickening feeling that I couldn't get rid of. What was he? A demon in disguise. He held the same nauseating feeling as my most recent prey at the time. We met in a cramped alleyway. He had dark eyes with a nose too crooked to find attractive. I thought he strange, his partners stranger. We were disadvantaged nine to one. His right hand man was a scaly figure, blonde hair, a real rarity. He always wore these oddly blue tinted glasses. It was a dark evening, so I gave it a precarious glance. The rest were of stranger accent. His whole crew was disturbing, a rowdy bunch. Like a pack of wild beasts, monsters in human flesh. From that day on we would challenge each other; he, the Tenacious Erinyes would always end up in our way. In time we would collaborate in the founding of leadership within the twentieth district.
Daler concealed himself with the windless wind. The flowers guarding the yard surrounding the tower fazed into his visage, an unseen presence kept still. So they are after me. This world is of a past realm most certainly, or possibly in between the past and future. I must find myself here somehow, or Hank. Keeping my reality whilst destroying Hank's distortion is probably the only way to get out of this. Unfortunately I'm unsure of what their plan is specifically. Space Wizard? Devil Splitter? Paul. Hank's vice-captain was a double agent, using him this whole time… Damn.
Odin grew his spear from his waist, its long head sharper than the edge of the sun. It radiated with vines lapping the pole, as a feathered design spiraled to the bottom in folded fashion.
"Here," Odin said whilst tossing the spear to Paul. "It should kill what needs to be. Hand it to someone you trust or complete the deed yourself. I shall guard the uterus."
"Understood." Paul walked into the woods, the trees parting as he strode towards the future.
"Now that he is gone, may the future existence that should not exist welcome me with their appearance?"
"Hah! I figured that it was too good to be true. No way ya'll wouldn't have caught meh." Daler chuckled as he heated up, a nervous swallow happened outside of his control.
"Who are you?" Odin ordered.
"Now why should I answer you?"
"I can see your future, now that you stand in front of me. You shouldn't exist. Who…no, rather what are you?"
"Hahahahaha!"
A pit of despair bubbled beneath Odin's belly, something out of place curled behind his non-existent neck. The pickup of future annihilation shot him in his future sight. So swift he couldn't recollect how he had been taken. I died, Odin thought. "I will die," he whispered. It was profound in how inevitable it was that he knew not what to do, but stand and stare. The softest whisper ever spoken grabbed his ears and said, "you can see me, can't you?" Daler had vanished from Odin's sight, where he was, was tentative. Instantaneously roses unseen bloomed from his chest, the distorted light of the contracting realm refracted across the glass like petals. Resembling a zephyr cutting past a shadow, Daler's palm planted itself onto Odin's spine.
"I fear no man, beast, or god. For you know who I am…
Hank sat upon his chrome throne, strewn with chains ticking down the time of every planet in every universe. Across every realm his chariot strode, his DeLorean a steed of the stars. Clicking steps stopped with calm anticipation, he had arrived. Hank merely slid his eyes along, to the growling beast in front of him.
"The infamous Racing Hound. This isn't much of yar typical work, or is it?" a hauteur Hank stated.