Running trains trampled the clouds, their exhales birthing new nimbi. Opening the door, Kojiro stepped forth on the road of stars. A land distorted, all colors shifted to the right, as the world never finished turning. Nausea cut the plane of balance, vertigo spelled Kojiro's mind. Godmann began to tremble within its sheathe, wisps of terror vaped off the handle.
"This land of disarray plagues me," Kojiro took a moment to think. "A worthy challenge indeed." A bright smile painted his face. The paleness of his skin turned ever sickly like a ghost about to haunt.
Two more doors opened on both the north and eastern wings of reality. Grease walked in with his usual bent posture, overly pommed, his thick brows creased his forehead as the sickness befell him. On the other end Dante began to feel just as similar, the space around him becoming a dizzying obstacle. Shattered lanes reformed and dissipated abruptly, before their eyes could catch a road to move on, it would break. Stuck in the swamp of sickness, they struggled to stand let alone walk through the tumultuous array presented.
Daler.
Dancing at midnight. Infinite coasters run along panels depicting his gait, a taut respite warms his toes. His socks gently dangled over his boot lips, Daler rubbing the soft tissue around his ankles. Water flowed ever slowly as if to match the recorded walk of Daler's. The stars dotted the road beneath the bridge connecting infinite ponds. His eyes darted between the many ellipses rolling towards the silver prairie, white rose bushes lined to the open of silver lilies. Headless swans walked on with flattened wings. Once to the skies they flew with crooked feet. Frozen flames stuttered, caught in damaged film, crashing and holding no motion.
Daler continued on, his boots wearing as the journey continued, unsure of its end. A bright light exploded like the opening of a furnace. Entering the blanket of reality shaping the frame of the chrome door. Three Hanks stood with clocks broken in hand, and in less than a second Daler awoke in a white forest. A lifeless body sat beneath the cocoon, within the embrace of a woman, he drew breath. Pejman the southern Turshman stood, his blade ready in hand. The thick bezel accentuated the harsh serration of the cold steel. Soulless eyes glazed the snow-like field, his disheveled hair scratching along his neck, a beard unkept. Dry lips and hollow cheeks wheezed with exhaustion, as his passion for life faded ever more. Étaín, a woman of slender build stood behind him, an effervescent aura of love perfumed around the two, her energy collapsing onto Pejman. She from the Black Capes of the northern tundra loved a man so deeply she walked into hell with him. To them this was their end, their future, to Daler it was merely the present.
"I could have sworn we were killed," Pejman murmured.
"Yes my love, we were indeed," Étaín replied.
"Hm, I wonder if Kyzr succeeded," Pejman whispered to the stars.
"We may never know my love."
"So what do we do with this?"
Caressing his cheek, Étaín answered, "We kill him of course."
"Very well."
Pejman danced like the wind, a tempest in corporeal form, a thunderous shadow that laid waste. His crude blade cried as it tore through Daler's arm. Daler screamed, his cry echoing in the void. Nishant's eyes opened as lacquered mist cloaked his figure. His arms were hard as diamond, as dense as osmium, and lighter than graphene. It swiftly coated his flesh, a black devil with hair in the shape of a giant arrowhead.
"Unique pomp you got, I'm more into a loose style, when I was younger I had braids as many do in the south of Tur..." Pejman began to ramble as he hacked into Nishant's cross guard.
"I'm not familiar with your people, brown-man!" Nishant threw a spiralling haymaker cracking Pejman's ribs, but just as he felt the shattering, the slow reform was also felt. In almost an instant his rips were perfectly healed, a sway of love energy covered Pejman's body as vitality spurred within him. "What the, I should've blown a hole right through ya," Nishant said stunned.
"The only one who bested our infamous tag team was Q. Kyzr, the man faster than sound. Truly a frightful opponent." Étaín chimed.
So she can heal and he is kind of fast. Neither are all too impressive, but something about them freaks me out, especially the dark fellow. His swing early was way too strong, but now they feel quite average. I know it isn't the tenacity doing all the work either. He must have some power booster, or maybe she can boost him, either way, it seems she is the biggest threat. Nishant dialed in, his eyes closing onto Étaín, but as his senses drove him to her, a blade was chopping at his back. Black flakes shattered from beneath tattered cloth. Shit! It's not her…
Trumpets rumbled along the pathway as Kojiro, Grease, and Dante ran from the shining light. The road was beginning to splinter, separate paths shook open. The scraping sound of brass blared bombastically. Thin skin rippled as the pressure from behind pressed harder and harder, the heavy weight falling with the disoria.
"I can't anymore, this place is insane. My legs…their giving out," Grease dropped to a knee. Sweat dripped from his nose like a stalactite.
"Get up, if you do not, demise will meet you," Kojiro said solemnly.
Dante took under Grease's shoulder as he whispered in agony, "we still need you." Grease's legs dragged, the trudge became steep as though the universe was playing tricks on them. Moving up a growing hill, each step felt like a taller stair than before. At the end of the ephemeral trudge, all that stood to face them was a wall no longer walkable.
"We are going to die. Ha, I thought I would at least see my middle years," a knackered Grease said.
"Oh calm it, did you forget what brought us here?" Kojiro took up his blade, and like a phantom vanished with the light. Three precise lines appeared on the unsurmountable wall, its crumble seemingly miraculous to both Grease and Dante. Truly surprise was the least expressive emotion on their faces. Agape, they gave a moment to stare at Sasaki Kojiro's walking figure. "Come now, we have no time to gawk."
"Haha, and I thought Rad was a monster, truly beings like them exist all around us," Dante whispered quietly enough that Grease only noticed the shift of lips and nothing more. Ribs hung above the carved out cave, glassy steps rose to three statues. Seductive nose the centered figure rustily stomped forth. "Foolish" brows creased the middle of its face, sharp eyes that could turn on most. Yet hollow eyes stopped the "most" from ever indulging from such urges. Opal, one of five clones that the syndicate made from Atlas's original body. Glamorous cloak that shrouded all but the shoulder. A second figure met Opal's side. Pearl, a meek fellow with lashes too long for comfort and a beaked mouth that made you question if they were human. Another clone of Atlas with the least retentive attributes of the base, a failure some would call it. From behind strolled the drowsy Blithe, one of the last clones of Atlas to be properly made, their memory excelled the most out of the five. Yet they couldn't achieve what they were born for.
"Intruders," said Opal. Blithe shrugged as Pearl rubbed their earlobe. "We will kill them, under Paul's ruling."
"Elder Paul is really annoying…" Pearl mumbled.
"Agreed, just because he's the first he thinks he can boss us around," Blithe said without much care.
"Enough, stomp the intruders."
"Understood!" they shouted in unison.
Mustering the vestiges of strength left Grease extended his leg, the kick cutting through the air. Large gashes lashed along Pearl, blood laced their figure as they dropped dead, falling into Limbo, their figure gone to eternity. Sickening rage drowned the array of stars, vertigo claimed Grease and Dante's heads. Blithe jumped down to their level slamming calloused hands hard against their backs. Collapsed chests bounced against crystal whilst Kojiro's blade danced creating wind in a vacuum, in but a swift as sound motion Blithe's head would fall to the same depths as Pearl. The pressure in the space seemed to be lifted, the chaotic dizziness faded and the blood pounding within their heads started to settle.
"No wonder they fear you…" Opal glanced down at the murky depths below. "Surely I will be next, but I may as well try to take one of you with me…"
With a bright smile Kojiro said, "Yes, you may try. I bid you the best of luck in doing so."
Hank stared at the shivering figure, Paul was impaled with nine javelins made of tooth only a beast the size of a truck could possess. So that is how he interprets it… Fate may truly never be escaped. The longer I sit in the rift between space and time, I begin to lose it, my connection. Inevitably we may all be drawn to the same end. No amount of running…hah! No car could ever be fast enough to outrun fate. He smiled, the most sincerity he allowed himself, only for that briefest of moments.
"I ask you this, what will you do now?"
"You told me, those I work closest worth shall end me in a bout I both best and worst at. I have taken out one obstacle, now my future is secure," replied the Racing Hound.
"Fate is most unavoidable, I fear there is only one who could outrun its pen."
"What are you talking about?" The poor puppy looked puzzled as if his most recent action accomplished nothing.
"They are here…" A crack through space melted away, Grease, Dante, and Kojiro walked into Hank's den. His chrome throne throbbed with glee as its wheels began to spin once again. Spurring emotion back into Hank's pale face. The Hound darted off, more a meek mouse than a savage dog. "Welcome brothers, in the short period we have been separated it has come to my attention within the drawls of multiple lives, that I may not know what I must do. For the end is a foggy tunnel. The entrance is all I can see. Your motive's the only voice I hear. So shall it be my death you seek?"
"Not if you stop this," Dante said.
"Whatever you have done, all ya gotta do is fix it," Grease added.
Sasaki Kojiro shook his head solemnly. "There is no fix. Fate has us all, is that not right, brother?"
"Indeed swordsman, my death is as certain as all deaths. I have tried to keep my existence a lasting one, but it seems God wishes otherwise."
"So, mechanic, will you let this be an easy end?" Kojiro asked.
"Hahaha! I am the Hero, what hero would give up so easily?"
"A righteous one," Kojiro responded.
"Indeed, I can not refute, yet my fear plagues me with the act of unrighteousness."
"You struggle even till the end. A tragic hero indeed. Let us end his suffering and return to the future."
"Grease," Dante whispered.
"Understood," Grease replied as he dashed to Hank's side sending a flurry of kicks. Air split as Hank's coat tore itself to shreds. Hank's smug expression stayed intact, a bright light like the reflection of a headlight at night burst from his chest. In an instant Hank stood behind Grease with a clean fitted chrome coat. Polished chains of silver shot from the invisible sky puncturing Grease's right shoulder. Kojiro's blade severed the swift punches to Grease's torso as Dante pulled his injured figure away.
Kojiro with focused sight merely uttered, "Dante, our makeshift plan will hold us no weight. For once you need to get serious, as do I."
Dante's eyes dilated, scales laminated the sides of his face as his face morphed acutely. A draconic aura permeated his skin. A blue blur blasted past Hank, the shockwave rupturing his ears whilst his arm was blown off. In a blaze of white frost, Hank awoke upon his silver chariot anchored on the launchpad chained to his tower. Cracks in reality formed beneath their notices.
Hank regained his right arm, chrome bullets, mercury mirrors shaped into pointed cones descended. Heavy rain dotting the cold throne room, the chime of chains clinking at the subsequent twelve o'clock. Noon: a high sun covered in a mercury-like substance beamed happier than a child after a lovely meal. Penguins marched in unison, tutus dressed their wastes as they began to do jetés in flowery lines. A vast plane of warm ice paraded dancing birds, an empty throne, three confused acquaintances, and a Hero sitting in his ready for flight chariot. The runway stretches far into the empty horizon from a tower too tall to be held up by such a simple throne with near infinite chains.
Hank flew, a dazzling gallop, merging with the false sun, he became omnipotent. His kingdom was beginning to finally take shape. The land tore from below as all fell deep into the abyss of time.
"Kojiro!" Grease shouted, but Kojiro did not reply. He simply swung his sword, a rift opened. Dante sprouted his leathered wings as he flew Grease and Kojiro into the gap in space. Rolling onto a field of white grass, a clock tower clicked, its shadow hovering over them.
"Did we succeed?" Grease said dumbly.
"What do you think?" Dante said with a scowl.
"We did…" Kojiro affirmed. Dante whipped his head towards Kojiro.
"Seriously!" Dante said, stunned.
"Don't even bother explaining…I just want to go to bed."
"The job isn't finished. Hank simply lost his free will. Holding him long enough to resurrect in the plain of time itself drained him of all self he still possessed. He is now the new vessel to Time. We have no need to worry about him now. Instead, we should concern ourselves with where we are now."
Rad swayed back, his chest popping with the swoosh of wind created by Pejman's swing. Crackled sparks jumped when flesh met blade. In confusion Rad tried to recall how he ended up in such a precarious situation. Lacerations connected all along his frame. Pejman gave a look of dry disappointment. "Boy you had much more spunk mere seconds ago, what happened?"
"Your figure is unlike prior, your demeanor is also quite different," said Étaín.
"I'm unsure what you mean, I'm just as confused. I barely even know where I am right now."
"Pej, what shall we do now?"
"You were the one who said we should kill him."
"My eyes detect that he will become dangerous, plus we were told to guard this cocoon."
"Boy do you wish for this cocoon," Pejman pointed.
"I don't even know—" once Rad laid eyes on it his body shook, sweat clogged his pores as a deep seated fear stabbed at his brain. What is that? How come I hadn't noticed it till now? It's dangerous, I don't know how I know, but it simply must go, a thing like that shouldn't exist anywhere. "Why are you guarding such a dreadful thing?" Rad asked as his hands drew blood at the center of his palms.
"Ma cherie, why are we guarding… How…. Wait, why am I here again?" Pejman began to drool as his eyes glazed over. His presence became stronger as the mere mass of his essence enlarged, coating the field with his deadly aura. "For this is all I can remember, my ability provided by the One, a being beyond transcendence, a Space Wizard. By sacrificing an aspect of my non-physical self I can temporarily empower myself. In death I let this be my finale. Let's rest in peace, my love."
"Fight my beloved and I shall meet you till the end…"
In the distance Grease, Kojiro, and Dante could see a zombie holding Rad's decapitated head. Hollow eyes, a lost left arm with a jaw removed, yet no blood flowed. A splattered mass by a crevice in the off shore of the barrier's edge held the remnants of a woman who was in love. Rad's held head was released, falling into a pit of dyed grass. Pejman quickly reclaimed his bent blade stuck in the swollen earth. Without giving them a chance to process the sight, Pejman closed in. Opening a large gash across Grease's chest, swiftly Pejman jumped straight to Kojiro's back, shattering Godmann with a precise palm strike. Kojiro, bent by the force, flew towards a cluster of trees, his face crashing through their open arms. Dante flared with draconic aura, but it was too late, his stomach was cleaved open, intestines plopping onto blood damped roses. Trying to hug his organs he fell forward, face planting into a thorny bush.
"I shall allow it once. Should you tamper with the domain once again, your punishment will be beyond starlight disregard." A cold voice reverberated, shaking Rad's flesh awake. On the dry outskirts of a mountain road. Soft handed, an innocent baby faced young man simultaneously had the facial visage of a detached serial killer. Two hands bubbling with sweat gripped tightly around a leather wheel. To his right sat Rad, his figure shifting from Daler to Nishant, his face exploding with white flame and black char. Demonic horns glitched through his alternating form. A grumbling howl rolled like a pack of wolves on the chase. In the moment of Rad's realization it happened. Flame reached the stars, rain of luminescent heat sprinkled about, an amalgamated figure of distorted despair raised its head.
"Do you see it, that is what killed you. You may have forgotten, indeed he would play a sick trick like this on us. I tell you, me, or us, watch out for them. A dark hound sniffing for your soul, will come and kill you. The man, Atlas Sween, you must watch out for him. Just the same for the man named Dante Hamel-En, I can't tell you his motives, but they are of no benefit to you. It's been tough, huh Nishant…" Moacir said behind Rad's back.
How, that's me, rather he isn't me. My body, but how? Atlas? "Hold on—
"Enough!" a shout split the clouds as the world spun to a clear throne. "You have tampered long enough, vessel of the Deeded One," Time said.
"Hank?"
"He has something to inform you of." "Rad, it is odd to say, but it is good to see you. You picked up my technique well, but sadly I fear Time will only allow your deter to happen only once again, when the world needs it most. For now you can only rely on what is innately inside you. I am almost at the point of full assimilation, not much more I can do. So I heed you with the last drops of self I still possess. The Zeroes, their leader, knows most about the body you possess as well as your killer. I am only allowed to provide this, fate has deemed it so. Goodbye."
Gasping Rad shields against the ferocious onslaught of Pejman the deteriorating. Pejman was decomposing, death ki built up inside Pejman's dragon palm. His meridians began to crumble as he devoured the last remnants of his lover's love. The last drops of his identity were gone, a killing machine born from an ability built on protecting his love. Shedding a tear, Rad entered a stance for battle.
Nine stars scattered as the trio entered the scene, each with their own surprise. Laying in one of the nine cavities, Rad, rested his eyes as Dante came to carry him out. The tower turned, the clock so far above the clouds, its numbers unseen. "Ya'll I'm tired," Rad said. "Ya'll?" Grease raised a brow. "South born, how sad," Kojiro added. "Let's just get out of here, eh swordsman," Dante suggested. Kojiro shrugged, leaving the cavity of time and space.