Volume I: Metropolis of Remnant Souls
Jan 3, 2015 6:06:24 GMT -6
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Post by msgrrtasticdiva1982 on Jan 3, 2015 6:06:24 GMT -6
Volume I: Metropolis of Remnant Souls
Victory City, a far-off place of unknown whereabouts.
This is where it all begins …
… On the night before the end of everything. “Twinkle, twinkle little star. How I wonder …” A lone soul observes the city, perched and isolated atop the Aurora Enterprise building. “I wonder. Is this for real, or … is this nothing more than an ongoing dream?” 7 days—the lifetime of the magnificence that is Victory City. A place where the moon is eternal. Where life and beauty are everlasting. But … happiness is a whisper of the past to an unfortunate many. This soul in particular is one of the many. “If I had one wish, it would be …” This man decorated in alluring colors and psychedelic patterns observes the skies above, where he notices a star twinkling most attractively. “Truth.” Picture it: that awkward moment when you get exactly what you asked for. “W-o-w. Is that … a shooting star?”
Yes. A star is falling from the sky!
Several clouds part way for a pillar of golden light, a formless welcoming mat for none other than … the Keeper of Souls. The pillar centers in Atlas Circle, where many amass to witness a most fated advent. “Is that … a person?”
“Amazing!”
“Mommy, look, it’s an angel!”
“Humph. Angel, huh?” A dashing muscle from the crowd approaches in awe. “Man … if only my little girl could see *this*.” A sporty woman arrives, as does the man who stood atop the Aurora Enterprise building. The muscle recognizes them. “Glad you two could make it. And just in time too.”
The sporty woman fascinates. “Is that …?”
“Yeah. It’s him, alright.”
The psychedelic gentleman recognizes the arrived. “… The man from our dreams!” It’s beautiful—the advent of Zephyr, Keeper of Souls. The pillar of light places him upon the earth. This pillar … It is the Souls of those who could not make it to this world, amassed and illuminated. Hence, the gentle cries it emits. “… It’s almost scary.” The psychedelic gentleman intrigues, captivating the muscle and the sporty woman. “I don’t understand where these feelings are coming from.”
The sporty woman relates. “You too?”
“Let’s check him.” The muscle takes the initiative and approaches the arrived.
The sporty woman follows.
The psychedelic gentleman, however, finds it hard to move. Feelings. Strange feelings—indescribable emotions are amassing in his heart. “… Zephyr.” His voice captivates the other two, who seem to be his friends. “Joe, April. I don’t know how to explain it, but …” He approaches the sleeping Zephyr with character that registers with his friends. “I remember him. Everything about him. This man … The man from our dreams. Damn. It’s … like some kind of miracle.”
“Okay, that’ll be enough, Prince Charming.” Joe takes the initiative once more by taking Zephyr off the psychedelic gentleman’s hands. “You know, Curtis …”Joe turns with Zephyr in his arms, addressing the rising psychedelic gentleman named Curtis. “You should get your head in the game for tomorrow. Remember?”
Curtis confidently folds his arms. “This is this and that is that, smartass.” The sporty woman giggles under her breath. “Oh, and April …” She calms down and gives Curtis her undivided attention. “You’re going head-to-head with Fang. Best be on your toes with her. She’s one of the toughest women around, you know.”
April smiles sarcastically. “Beat me with a stick and call me ‘crazy’. So am I, asshole.”
“Of course, Wonder Woman.” Curtis giggles and scratches his head. “Leave it to Curty. Always the concerned one, right?” Joe is tickled by Curtis’s awkward personality. April as well. “Alright. Let’s get Zephyr to a bed. From the way things are looking, doesn’t look like anyone else is ‘willing enough’ to help the poor guy. Bunch of gawking ingrates.”
April and Joe agree while following Curtis. “Right.”
The gentle glow of moonlight upon one’s eyelids. “… Mm …” This is the first sensation awarded to Zephyr. “Father.” Remembrances. Terrifying, heartbreaking remembrances lift Zephyr in tears. “Everyone!” Umbra outline a curious scene. Accommodations much unlike his temple home. “Am I …” Zephyr notices a closed, unveiled window to his left. “This is …” He rises from where he sits and hurries to the window, which he opens to observe … a world contrasting his own.
A place of wonder. Bright lights. Moving machinations. A sight beyond anything he’s ever imagined. “Oh. You’re awake.” An unfamiliar voice surprises and turns Zephyr to the west, where he notices a haunting silhouette. A light switch activates, revealing a curious young fellow with uniquely-colored eyes. His bearing is strong, very strong, yet his countenance seems … so very sad. “Don’t know you through a hole in the wall. But, it’s always nice to see a new face.” Zephyr blushes and shies away. The boy smiles. “I heard you making a little fuss a moment ago. Are you okay?”
Zephyr productively avoids the question. “… Where am I?”
“Victory City.” The boy’s response captivates Zephyr. Realizing he has the Keeper of Souls’ attention, the boy approaches him. “A far-off place on a star made just for us. A safe haven that protects us from the Shadows.”
“Shadows? You mean ‘the Soulless’?”
“Soulless?” The boy intrigues. “Is that what you call them where you come from?”
Zephyr nods. “Yes. And that’s what they are—the Soulless.” He turns and observes the city from his perch point. The boy approaches Zephyr, stands at his side, and joins his endeavor. “Victory City, huh? My, oh my …”
“Not too shabby, eh?”
“No. It’s … beautiful!”
“Glad you like it.” The boy turns and extends his hand to Zephyr. “Syd’s the name. Syd Greywords.” Zephyr turns and shakes Syd’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. And you are?”
“Zephyr. I, um ... don’t have any other names.”
“Cool. Sounds mysterious. I like it!”
A visitor arrives, taking Syd by surprise. “Don’t even think about gasping, runt!” A woman’s voice. One that turns Zephyr to the image of a warrior draped in blues, whites and linens confessing far-off origins. A contracted dual-sided spear rests in a holster buckled around her upper body. “Hope the little metal head isn’t troubling you.”
Zephyr smiles and shakes his head. “His name is Zephyr!” Syd shows great motivation in speaking for the Keeper of Souls. “Fang, he’s super-awesome he is! A right upstanding fellow I say!”
“Yeah, yeah, now pipe down. You’re wrecking me ears.” The warrior named Fang approaches with collective and inviting character. “No matter how smart, kids will always be kids.”
Zephyr giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“The soft backs brought you here.”
“Soft backs?”
“A bunch of rookies. Nice ones though.”
“Oh …” Zephyr intrigues. “When can I meet them?”
“In a few hours. Tournament’s starting at Mid-moon tomorrow.”
“Tournament, you say?”
“Aye. The Night of Champions. Biggest gig in the entire city it is.”
“… Night of Champions? Hmm.” Zephyr can’t help but intrigue further. “So much to learn.”
“Aww, don’t worry.” Fang warms up to Zephyr. “You’ll get the hang of it in no time.”
Pleased by his company, Zephyr smiles wholeheartedly. “Yes. I look forward to it.”
What lies in darkness?
Truth? Mystery? The alluring? The frightening?
Darkness is all these things and more. “Thank you, everyone, for joining my cause.” A select few whose hearts epitomize what it means to be “dark” have been gathered. Their missions and reasons vary, but all possess Souls hungering for the absolution of evil. “Chaos, the beginning and the end of everything …” Their leader, the veiled Insidious, initiates their first meeting most eloquently. “Zephyr, Keeper of Souls. His quest is all for naught. Bound for naught.” The obscure communion is tickled by Insidious’s inviting cruelty. “Tell me, everyone. Are your opinions contrary or concord?”
“Humph! Has your hood made you blind?” An intelligent soul smugly replies, rousing the hearts of his brethren. “The Keeper of Souls is a resilient fledgling much like the boy impeding my ambitions.” The intelligent soul laughs cynically. “Whether with or without his so-called ‘Guardians,’ his presence is inconsequential.”
A menacing soul agrees. “Precisely. And who better to comment that you, ‘former Shinigami’?”
“Humph.” The intelligent soul huffs sardonically. “You have my thanks, ‘corrupter of time’.”
“Your gratitude is greatly appreciated.”
“Cease your compliments, please!” A forebodingly feminine soul admonishes. “The only thing that matters is the task at hand. Besides …” The feminine soul giggles narcissistically. “Such beauty is only understood by those outside the shadows. Creatures much unlike ourselves.”
A lady soul scoffs at the former’s grandiose character. “… So bothersome.” Her sly tongue rouses offense in the feminine soul. “Tell me, sorcerer. Is your magniloquent prattle *truly* ‘the wisdom of God’?”
“… How dare you mock me, you repulsive little witch!”
“Humph.”
“Only a few minutes and you’re already arguing? Bah!” A quiet yet savage soul laughs at their mild dissension. “Childish fools. Your pride will be the end of you.”
“Shut up, stupid wolf!” The lady soul defends her honor. “Nobody asked for your opinion!”
“Of course not, my dear. ‘Nobody’ merely … excited it.”
“Why you …”
“Would you two pipe down?” A more seductive lady soul successfully mediates the situation. “Not even my sister is this immature. Grow up. It’s less embarrassing.”
“Likewise.” A frightening soul laughs. “Though I must admit, their childishness is most rewarding.”
A grandiloquent soul stands alone. “Fools! Progress is a result of effective practices, not dissension.”
The frightening soul supports the former. “Indeed. Let us heed the wisdom of our brother …” Insidious’s laughter insults his company. “Something funny, hood boy?”
Insidious stands from his chair and waves his right hand sideways, rousing the shadows and concocting a projection of Victory City. “Perhaps your thunderous passions will fell this collection of Souls.” The obscure communion is fascinated beyond words. “Chaos. Great, insurmountable Chaos lies beyond the boundaries of this world—Victory City. A haven for those that have lost their way.” The image of a specific, undeniably beautiful swordswoman stands out to the second lady soul. “A tournament will be held here tomorrow at Mid-moon … Duty calls, my graceful assassin.” The lady soul gives Insidious her undivided attention. “This specific Soul possesses incredible will … Destroy her.”
“… Without hesitation.” The second lady soul rises, turns and disappears into the darkness.
The feminine soul is humored. “Hmm. She seemed rather determined.”
“It is because of this woman.” Insidious’s response captivates his brethren, returning their attention to his projection. With a wave of his hand, he advances the projection to the probable future—a storming sea of Chaos. “The power of her Soulless has the potential to ruin everything. And who better to ignite this beautiful flame than … herself?”
Laughter enlivens the darkness. Flooding malice. Cruel expectation.
To what ends will the inevitable lead, at the grandiose Night of Champions?
A world with two moons. Devoid of sunlight. A beautiful yet gloomy existence.
Zephyr is drawn to Victory City’s nocturnal majesty, so much that he wanders away from his resting quarters to find “the perfect place”. A location with the greatest view of the twinkling heavens.
He eventually lucks out by finding the rooftop, where he takes a seat in what seems like a quiet place. “Hah ...” With this sigh and this enchanting collection of urban sights, Zephyr is reminded of a song his friend Aisha always sings to him. The melody hums from his closed lips … Then, a line returns to his memory. ~ Down where the Filias grow, I heard whispers of remembrance. Memories of a once-upon-a-time instance. Please, take me as I am, and I will do the same for you. Share our strength to find what’s true. ~ His song is ceased by tears. But what makes these tears?
Is it pain? Guilt? A longing to see someone?
Though he knows not their true meaning, these tears somehow give Zephyr a sense of hope. And earn him the fascination of a curious, fated, and approaching onlooker. “Please.” This voice … Zephyr remembers this deep, haunting yet inviting tone. He turns and gazes upon the fascinated Curtis. “Don’t stop. Please. I’d like to hear more.”
Zephyr shies away. “Actually, sir … that’s all I know.”
“Oh? Man … And here I was getting into it.”
“It’s not my song, anyway, so …”
~ I was once a child with dreams. Fireflies trailing magical streams. ~ Curtis surprises Zephyr not only with his sultry, masculine vocals, but also Aisha’s song in its entirety. The psychedelic gentleman takes a seat inches away from him, and finishes the piece. ~ Come roll round the starlit gleams, granted wishes from their seams. Down where the Filias grow, I heard whispers of remembrance. Memories of a once-upon-a-time instance. Please, take me as I am, and I will do the same for you. Share our strength to find what’s true. ~ Zephyr is speechless. This colorful, handsome character has melodically stolen his heart. “I’ve heard you sing it to me before. Once upon a dream. No pun intended.”
Zephyr is amazed. “You've seen me in your dreams before?”
“Yeah, I have. Plenty of times.”
“Was I singing that song?”
“Ironically.” Curtis observes the twinkling cosmos, as he explains his recurring dreams. “A hill leading to a cliff plentiful with peppermint-scented flowers of a different color. Filias.” Curtis’s explanation further reminds Zephyr of Aisha, who always wore a flower in her hair. One of a different color bearing a similar scent. “Beyond these flowers is a cliff overlooking a vast, crystal blue ocean. A sunny sky and a cool breeze … You taught me that song. The range. The pitch. Everything.” Zephyr turns away to hide his tears. Curtis closes his eyes and frowns. “I’m happy that we’re finally together in the flesh. But if you’re here, then that means your world …”
“Yes. It’s gone.” Zephyr’s pain captivates Curtis. “The place you just described was called ‘Heaven’s Peak’. It’s where the monks of the Luminous Temple found me when I was a newborn.”
“So you’re a …” He doesn't even have to finish his sentence. Curtis already understands Zephyr. “I know it’s hard.” Memories flood Curtis’s mind, as he recalls what little he remembers of his former life. “The only things I remember about my past are two important facts: my friends and I are warriors from another world, and we have recurring dreams about you, other worlds, mysterious spiritual beings, obtaining incredible abilities, and the Shadows.”
Zephyr wipes his tears away. “I had a dream like that.”
Curtis intrigues. “You did?”
“Yes. And I swear you were in it.” Zephyr gazes upon Curtis’s entrancing profile, recalling the majesty of the first Guardian. “Leonine eyes. Tall, broad, and strong. A handsome smile. But …” Zephyr giggles. “You weren’t this …”
“Colorful?” Curtis’s interjection tickles Zephyr. “This get-up is my ring gear. But I plan on changing my style very soon.” He becomes curious. “So, what did I look like in your dreams?”
Zephyr blushes. “Mysterious. An inviting dark hero.” He looks forward and observes Victory City. “You never told me your name, but you made it quite evident—that we became close.”
“Curtis. My warrior name is ‘Fandango’.” The psychedelic gentleman captivates the Keeper of Souls. “And you are Zephyr. The kid savior from Elysium.”
“How do you …?”
“Know so much?”
“Yes.”
“Simple. You told me everything.” Curtis recalls his recent dream. “Last time, you said we’d meet outside our dreams. That you’d fall from the sky, conveyed by countless Souls. And that when we finally met, I was to sing that song. You’d only know so little about me, but I would know everything about you. Well … Except for the whole ‘being found on Heaven’s Peak’ thing.” Zephyr is silenced once again. “I’m glad we finally met, Zeph.”
That name …
… Zephyr remembers the first Guardian, and his undeniable fate. “This world … The Soulless will surely come to ruin it.” Curtis is captivated by Zephyr’s foreboding words. “They easily took Elysium, a place once abundant with life. This world is nothing more than fresh, live prey, just like all other worlds. I … learned that the hard way.”
Curtis righteously angers at the sound of such horrible news. “That … That’s what happened to our other friends.” Zephyr hears Curtis’s pain. A hushed cry for completion. Reunion. Retribution. “April, Joe and I were spirited here with several other warriors from our original world … Shadows took them on the spot. But now that you’re here …”
“I’ll help you find them.”
Curtis gazes upon a smile teeming with genuine care. “You will?”
“Of course. You aided me without hesitating. I owe you my life, Curtis.”
“… Thank you, Zeph.” Those words sparked an hour-long conversation. Topics pertaining to the tasks set before Zephyr and his foreordained Guardians. Eventually, Curtis finds himself absorbed into the Keeper of Souls’ mission. “Man! All that? Geez-Louise … Sounds like one hell of a tough job.”
“It is. But despite the difficulties that be, I am a man of duty.”
“Nice.” Curtis smiles admirably. “Two birds of a feather …”
“Flying high like diamonds in the sky!” The Keeper of Souls’ obvious lack of multicultural interaction rouses mixed emotions in Curtis. It’s charming, funny, but at the same time … confusing. “What?”
Curtis giggles. “Nothing, nothing.” The psychedelic gentleman stands, turns, and gazes upon the lounging Zephyr with confident stance. “It’s getting late. So, for now, we should go back inside and rest up.” A spark of embarrassment provokes Curtis to scratch his head. “I should know better—Tournament’s tomorrow and I haven’t gotten a single ounce of shuteye. If I don’t get in at least a couple of hours, my bud Joe’s going to kick by ass all across the arena.”
Zephyr wonders. “A friend of yours?”
“Friend, yes. Best person to slack around, no.”
“Oh. Well, then …” The Keeper of Souls stands, and places his hands together. The bulk of his bell sleeves conceal his hands, as he leans forward and respectfully bows to his acquaintance. “Thank you for keeping me company, Curtis.”
“No problem, Zeph.” The psychedelic gentleman returns the gesture. This equal show of respect rouses comfort in the Keeper of Souls. “I can’t remember why, but this feels … natural.” The two stand upright, and Curtis leads the way to the stairway entrance. “So, is that a formal gesture or is it leisure?”
“It’s both, really. Formal and informal.”
“Oh … I see.”
Zephyr giggles amusedly. “Are you not accustomed to bowing?”
“… I … don’t remember. But it feels natural. Like I’ve done it many times in the past.”
“Oh. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.” Zephyr follows Curtis through the hotel, conversing along the way. Discussing certain topics centric to men; things left unsaid in his former life. By the time they reach the entrance to Zephyr’s suite, much has been shared between them. These words … have awakened a sense of endearment towards Curtis, an eccentric man with a heart of gold. “… I thank you once again, Curtis. You’re very easy to talk to.”
Curtis stands outside Zephyr’s doorway, the latter standing inside with a smile on his face. This smile … It says quite a lot without much need for any other expressions. “I feel the same way, Zeph.” Curtis’s like sentiments rouse the gentlest warmth in Zephyr’s heart. “Will you come watch us at the Tournament tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Great. Hope you have fun. I know I will.” Curtis departs with a wave and good spirits. “Sweet dreams, Zeph.”
“Goodnight, Curtis.” Suddenly, a strong gust surprises Zephyr from behind, provoking him to turn and gaze upon … absolutely nothing. “Where did …” Remembering what Syd did earlier, Zephyr flicks the light switch to his left and activates the room’s lighting system. In the distance, he notices his suite window is completely open, as if someone was in here during his absence. “That’s strange. I could’ve sworn I closed it before I left.”
The Keeper of Souls approaches his window, reaches up and pulls it shut. He secures the window with a turn of its latching, which was taught to him by the friendly warrior Fang. And, once again, he finds himself mesmerized by the beauty of Victory City. (How are you enjoying your new home?) Ironically, Insidious’s voice has somehow located Zephyr, speaking loudly. Reverberantly. The Keeper of Souls turns to absolutely nothing, reinforcing his martial defenses in case of emergency. (Oh, there, there, my darling little star. There is no need for such … belligerence.)
“How did you find me?”
(How? Well … In case you've forgotten, darkness is everywhere. I can see you even in the brightest of bright; for, the brighter the light, the longer a shadow stretches. You of all people should know this, and know it well, Keeper of Souls.)
“… Were you the one who opened my window?”
(Me? What would I gain from opening your window? Hmm?)
Insidious’s laughter speaks for itself. “… You eerie-aired lecher! Stop stalking me!”
The laughter ceases, and a momentary silence plagues the suite. (… I’m afraid I cannot do that.) Suddenly, images of the enigmatic hood appear on every reflective surface in the room! Zephyr is startled by the uncanny phenomenon, having never thought a creature of darkness could ever touch the light. (Hello. Hello. And hello, Keeper of Souls.) Insidious humorously mocks Zephyr, as he backs away into a projection reflected from the vanity mirror just behind him. A cold sensation rushes up his spine, scaring the Keeper of Souls forward into an about-face, allowing him to perceive the haunting projection up close. (No need to fret, my darling little star. I … only want to help you. Show you the way.)
“The way to what? Destruction?” Zephyr reinforces his defenses, mentally, physically and spiritually. “The last time you offered me your ‘help,’ I lost countless people. Precious people. I will not be fooled a second time!”
(Oh, Zephyr, Zephyr, Zephyr.) Insidious takes a step forward, provoking the Keeper of Souls to take a step back. Malevolence surfaces as a smile upon the hood’s handsome chin. (To be bluntly honest, Keeper of Souls, I want to help you see the truth. The undeniable truth. That this world and a-l-l others like it deserve nothing. An absolute nothing. If there is nothing, there is no suffering. No pain. No war. No death. No life. Nothing is peace, and peace is everything.) As much as Zephyr wants to disagree with Insidious, he’s right—if there is nothing, then the absolution of peace is thereby made true. Whole. However, destroying everything would only bring about pain in the end. It would defeat the purpose of desiring peace, and ironically succeed at gaining it in the end. (Do you understand my desire now, Keeper of Souls?)
“… Partially, yes.”
(Ah. Partially, you say?)
“Your ambitions are pursued with vigor, and yet the goals you’re trying to achieve …” Zephyr stands upright, bold and resilient, bearing strength never before felt. “Everything. Even your long-desired pleasures are pointless.”
(As is your quest, Keeper of Souls. And yet you alone cannot realize this. Ah, but soon, so will several others … The ones predestined to become your Guardians.) The projection before him projects an image of the probable future—the endless sea of Chaos Insidious showed his obscured communion. Zephyr is emotionally struck by what he sees; a world devoid of life, light and existence. A world much like his own. (This, my darling little star, is the result of your meddling. Chaos—that which comes from Pandemonium. Your every effort is for naught; for, you cannot stop the inevitable.)
“And no matter how much you impede my quest …” Zephyr concentrates his Cosmos, unleashing a fierce burst of jade-colored light from the depths of his Soul with a single thrust palm! The projection is disbursed by his attack, which surprises Insidious from his far-away whereabouts. “You. Cannot. Stop. Me!”
(Ah, I see. Well, then.) The projected Insidious poses freely, invitingly. This stance is fooling; for, at the moment, the hood is physically prepared for battle. (Let us test this idea, Keeper of Souls.) With ire as his guide, Zephyr engages the projected Insidious, not thinking twice about his every execution. Passion gives birth to skill unimagined from the Keeper of Souls, whose fists hunger to rid himself of Insidious once and for all. Unfortunately, no matter how much he struggles, he’s unable to touch his opponent. Not because of the hood being a mere projection, but because Zephyr’s not fighting using his Soul … He’s using anger and rage as a sword against a being bred from such air. Due to his tireless efforts, Zephyr collapses onto his hands and knees, rousing sarcasm from the enigmatic hood. (Is that all you’ve got? Humph.)
“I … don’t understand …”
(One who knows nothing can understand nothing. You would do well to remember this, Keeper of Souls.)
“… You’re confusing.”
(Oh? How so?)
“… You wish me well … and, yet …” Zephyr pushes himself onto his knees, and looks into the eyes of the looming Insidious. His face distorts with a confident smile. “You feel nothing for me. You don’t even know a thing about me. As you said before: ‘One who knows nothing can understand nothing’. Humph … That’s quite the accurate statement.” Insidious watches in silence, as the Keeper of Souls stands upright with strong bearing. “Humph. Foolish corrupter of worlds.” Zephyr righteously reinforces his martial defenses! “Beware your assumptions of the unknown!”
With great vigor and strength, Zephyr engages the projection once again, this time besting him in all aspects. Speed. Strength. Defense. Agility. Endurance. Intelligence. Resistance. Spiritual power. (Argh!) Insidious is incapacitated by Zephyr’s martial expertise, despite being a mere projection manifested from unknown whereabouts. (… Impossible. But, then again.) Though the hood is incapacitated, he still finds the strength to humorously mock Zephyr. (Yes. Perfect.)
Zephyr becomes suspicious. “… What are you plotting, Insidious?”
(Oh, now, now, Keeper of Souls. Let’s not be naive.)
“Huh?” Annoyance eats away at Zephyr. “Why you … Stop toying with me and answer the question!”
(… I think I’ll pass.)
Without warning, the projection and all the reflections disappear, leaving Zephyr alone in his suite. The Keeper of Souls stands, irritated by Insidious’s trying elusiveness. “Ooh! Why that … Ugh!” He turns in a wave of suppressed frustration, wanting nothing more than to avenge those he lost to the Chaos. Suddenly, a knock comes from the entrance to his suite, calling the Keeper of Souls to the said place … When he arrives, he leans against the door. “Who is it?”
“A friend, so to speak.” Recollection is provoked by the voice, as Zephyr opens the door to greet April, who bears a most concerned expression. “Sorry to bother you, but I heard you down the hall.”
“Oh …” The Keeper of Souls flushes with embarrassment. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine. The question is: are you okay?”
“… I … was attacked.”
April is unnerved by Zephyr’s answer. “Is your assailant still here with you?”
“No. I … chased him away.” Zephyr smiles, confusing April just slightly. With a cupping of his hands, the Keeper of Souls conceals them beneath his thick bell sleeves. “I’ve trained for moments like this. So, there’s not need to—” Suddenly, Zephyr finally feels the sting of Insidious’s power, which causes him to vault over in pain! “Argh!”
“Oh, geez!” April aids him with supporting arms. She then observes him, and notices traces of ailment developing in his skin. Abnormally so. “You don’t look so good. Whatever this asshole did to you, it’s affecting you big time.”
“It’s fine. Just … Get me to the window.”
“Huh?”
“Hurry. Please.”
April persists. “Are you crazy? You need a—”
“Please!” This sudden burst of urgency silences April, who sees no other option but to comply with Zephyr’s demands. And so, she does, aiding him towards his window with her shoulders and body weight. “Thank you. Now, let me concentrate.” She wants to say something, anything, but no matter how much it pains her, April’s incapable of defying Zephyr. She doesn’t understand why, but … as Zephyr concentrates his Cosmos with meditative prayer hands … she gets her answer. “I … am the Keeper of Souls.” April gasps, as memories of former dreams return en masse. “Should the Chaos ail me, I need only consult the Cosmos. Their light … remedies my misfortune.”
A brilliant jade glow. This is Zephyr’s Cosmos; the force he was thoroughly bred to manipulate and exercise at all times. April awes at the beauty of something she once thought unbelievable. “… Is this for real?” She quickly realizes the “reality” of the situation, as Zephyr’s pigmentation and health are fully restored. “Oh. My. Goodness.” With his strength renewed, the Keeper of Souls faces April with inviting presence. “How did you …”
“I’ll explain later. For now, you should rest.” Zephyr walks past April towards his entrance, where he pauses, faces her once more and smiles. “I apologize for stirring you at this hour. It … wasn't my intention. Honestly.”
“… Don’t mention it.” April approaches Zephyr, halts at his side and extends her hand. “Don’t want to be rude. My name is April. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Zee.” Once again, Zephyr encounters a case of déjà vu, as he recalls the second Guardian and her lovable character. “Curtis told me about you. But, honestly … I already knew who you were, as did our other friend Joe.” The Keeper of Souls shakes her hand with intrigue. “I’ll also be competing in the Tournament.”
“Oh. Are you?”
They release each other’s hand, allowing April to bear her undeniably adorable character. “Why, of course. All warriors who want to establish themselves in Victory City are competing. It’s like a red carpet to stardom.”
“I see. Then, I wish you and all other competitors the best of luck.”
“Oh, thanks, Zee. You’re a charmer.” With gentle fingers, April pinches Zephyr’s left cheek, turns, and begins skipping down the hallway. “Goodnight, Zee. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
The Keeper of Souls is tickled with adoration. “Goodnight, April.”
Moments pass before Zephyr’s room light is deactivated. “Humph. What a showoff.” Unfortunately, as the Keeper of Souls seeks rest, vigilant eyes keep watch on his every endeavor from a nearby rooftop. “… Insidious, you’re a hopeless romantic to the bitter end. Stalking the little cutie like that.” The graceful assassin stands alone, beautifully obscured within a lunar silhouette, bearing a sword in her right hand. “Humph. How typical of the male species. One has yet to not chase rainbow-colored clouds with little guidance. Yet and still …” With well-hidden sadism, the graceful assassin lifts her blade to her lips and gives the flat end a gentle lick. “Mm. Yes. Tomorrow promises to be most … arousing.”
Mid-moon: a time slot considered “the afternoon” in some worlds. When the second moon is highest in the sky—that is Mid-moon, and this time is revered by the many citizens of Victory City. The stars shine vibrantly during this hour, reflecting phantoms of wandering, sky-bound Souls. “Come on, Zephyr! Keep up, will you?” Syd took the initiative and chose to escort the Keeper of Souls. They’re two among thousands amassed at the Stadium of Champions, where the Tournament is to be held in less than 30 minutes. Syd stands and waits for Zephyr, who eventually catches up with the energetic youth. “Here. Take this.” Syd hands Zephyr one of two tickets purchased a day prior. “First rows seats. You get the best view of everything from there. Know what I mean, mate?”
Zephyr accepts his tickets with a smile. “Thank you, Syd.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“So, um … How do we get inside?”
Syd turns and points in the direction of the admission line. “You stand there and wait your turn. When one of those mugs in the fancy suits asks for your ticket, you hand it over, they tear it and they’ll give you one of the halves.” He turns back to Zephyr, places his hands behind his head and smiles. “It’s proof of purchase. You know formalities, protocol and whatnot. Basic stuff if you want to get in and see all the action. Now, let’s be off.” Energetic to the bitter end, Syd turns and races into the admission line, provoking Zephyr to follow in his wake. “Come on, slowpoke. Don’t fall behind, okay?”
“Um, okay.” With the heart of a bubbling youth, the Keeper of Souls joins his young friend.
Ironically, he is bypassed by a young man in a yellow Karate Gi with a black sash. Zephyr is nearly knocked off balance, but the young man shows signs of advanced skill, as he turns and catches him before he falls. “Oh, man. That was totally my bad.” He helps Zephyr stand upright with blushing countenance. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. And …” The Keeper of Souls cups his hands admirably. “Your awareness is commendable.”
“Thanks. I learned from the best.” The young man extends his right hand. “Sean Matsuda. Shotokan practitioner.”
Zephyr shakes his acquaintance’s hand. “Zephyr. Keeper of Souls.”
“Oh, yeah!” The young man named Sean excites. “You’re the one that fell from the sky, right?”
“That would be me.”
“Cool! Not every day ya boy meets a celebrity.” Sean ends their handshake with good intention. “Well, I have to get ready for the Tournament. Got a big match against Joe Anoa’i.”
“Joe Anoa’i, you say?”
“Yeah. He’s publicly revered as ‘the Enforcer’. But …” Sean takes a moment to display his strong fists and fierce kicks, awing the Keeper of Souls to applause. “Ya boy got skills. Mad skills.”
Zephyr humors. “I *see* that. Nice technique. Very strong, my friend.”
“Thanks. Well, wish me luck?”
Zephyr bows humbly. “With pleasure, Mr. Matsuda.”
“Aww, none of that. Sean is good enough.” Pressed for time, Sean parts with a wave. “See ya around, Zephyr!”
“Best wishes, Sean!” The Keeper of Souls waves his good partings, but is immediately nudged by his young friend Syd, who turns him to a rather … annoyed expression. “Oh, sorry about that. But I think I just made a friend.”
“You can tell me about him later.” Syd takes Zephyr’s hand and drags him into the admission line. “Now, come on.”
“Alright, alright, no need to be pushy.” Despite the boy’s persistence, The Keeper of Souls can’t help but endear Syd’s take-no-nonsense outlook on life, especially seeing as he’s much younger in age. Upon reclaiming their spot in the admission line, Zephyr takes a moment to extend a confession. “I … am very fortunate to be here.” Syd is attracted by the Keeper of Souls’ confession. “Thank you, Syd. You’re a very kind young man.”
Seeing honesty in Zephyr’s eyes, Syd returns the gesture with a smile. “Same to you, Zephyr. Always.”
Meanwhile, in the heart of the Stadium, Joe makes his way towards the arena, where he is to wait his turn like all other competitors. The arena is lively this Mid-moon, but such is expected by one who has called Victory City “home” since appearing here 7 days ago. Or, should we say 14 moons ago? “Humph. Well, well, well.” The muscle’s travels are impeded by an arrogant onlooker donning archaic whites, a slick hairstyle and nunchaku rested in his underarms. “If it isn’t the Enforcer—one of the ‘little rookies that could’. Fancy meeting you here.”
Joe faces the provocative man with strength. “Who are you?”
“Maxi.” The charismatic soul salutes him most leisurely. “The one who’s going to win it all.”
“Humph. You’re so sure about that, aren't you?”
“Confidence, my friend, confidence.” The soul named Maxi stands from his lounging spot, and begins pacing round Joe, as if to further taunt him. “I just had to get a good look. One good look at ‘the man’.”
“… This isn't a spectator’s sport, need I mind you.”
“Of course not, big guy.” Maxi pauses at Joe’s side, leans and whispers. “It’s full contact. No holds barred. My kind of sport.” Maxi comes face-to-face with a man whose eyes tell no lies. Joe is definitely annoyed, and his every expression exudes this emotion. “See you in a few, big guy.” Maxi arrogantly departs. “Oh, and best of luck. You’ll need it.”
As much as Joe detests people of Maxi’s air, he refuses to waste his energy on such trivialities. “Humph. Talk about overconfident, huh?” An adorably cute voice turns Joe’s attention to the north, where he notices a teenage girl sporting an intriguing ensemble much unlike most Victory City civilians. Her smile lights the arena. “Hello!”
“Hello. Uh, nice getup you have there, little lady.”
“Thanks! It was the craze in Rieze Maxia.” The teenage girl shows signs of being a tomboy by the way she publicly conducts herself, but retains a sense of femininity that touches one’s heart. “My name is Leia Rolando. And you are?”
“Joe Anoa’i. Tournament-goers call me ‘the Enforcer’.”
“Oh …” The teenage girl named Leia excites. “So you’re competing too?”
At the moment, Joe’s unsure of what to believe. Seriously, to think a cute young lady like Leia would be competing in a fighting tournament is beyond him. She looks barely old enough to drive, let alone stand up to grown adults who've trained and conditioned their bodies for years. Then again, looks can be deceiving. “Yeah, I am. I plan on winning too.”
“That’s awesome! I plan on winning as well, Mr. Anoa’i!”
“Ha! Yeah, most warriors do.” Joe humorously folds his arms. “So, Leia, what technique are you bringing?”
The teenage girl shakes her finger teasingly. “Ah, ah, ah, there will be no telling. Surprises are much better.”
“Humph. You have a point there. Well, you’re nicer than ‘Maxi Pads’ back there. That’s always good.” Leia smiles endearingly, but Joe maintains a serious air. “But beware, kid. Being nice on the battlefield will cost you big time.”
“Oh, I already know that, Mr. Anoa’i.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I was actually a regular at tournaments back in my old world … before everything …” Leia’s mood droops with memories of those she lost to the Chaos. “Well, you know. No need explaining anything, right?”
“You …” Joe is impressed. “You remember things about your past?”
“Yeah, don’t you?”
“Not much, but … I wish I could remember more.”
“Oh, I see.” Leia places her hand on Joe’s arm with a smile. “Then, I wish you good luck in the Tournament and good luck regaining your memories. I know I sound naive, but … well …”
Joe shakes his head acceptingly. “No, it’s all right. I understand. And thanks, Leia, I needed that.”
The teenage girl smiles and merrily skips away. “No problem, Mr. Anoa’i! See you on the battlefield!”
“Right, right, and good luck, kid.” Suddenly, a most curious rumbling comes from the darkness of an unlit hallway due west of where Joe stands. He turns to the said direction in a startle. “Huh? What the hell was that?” Being the Tournament starts in several minutes, Joe quickly takes this as him overreacting under the circumstances. He also recalls what he said to Curtis hours ago, which ironically causes him to self-reflect. “Geez, Joe, get your head in the game.”
The handsome muscle departs, unknowing of what made the rumbling sound. (Mm, mm, mm. Tall, dark and handsome. Oh, yeah, that’s my kind of man through and through.) From the darkness emerges a mysterious cloak bearing an apparent curvy yet solid frame, conducting herself vivaciously. The cloak’s eyes observe the parting Joe from a distance, posing with sass and confidence. (Hmm, aside from my sister …) A devilish chuckle surfaces from the cloak, as she turns and parts for whereabouts unknown. (First, I need to get registered. And then, the *real* fun begins.)
Minutes later, the Tournament begins on schedule—30 minutes past Mid-moon. As today is revered as a public holiday, many people have gathered at the arena for this special occasion. On cue, a charismatic emcee takes the center circle with flash and flair. “Alright, alright, alright, listen up everybody! I got one question: are you ready for some a-c-t-i-o-n?” The crowd goes wild, knowing what the emcee’s call means—the Tournament is underway. “My name is MC Dizzy and I’ll be your host for the evening. So let’s get one thing straight here: I’m a man who hates formalities, so we’re going to start this off nice and simple. Bigwigs, cue the brackets.” The said device activates due west, displaying the names of the fighters competing in tonight’s Tournament. “Okay, we got ten people lined up for tonight’s matches.” With each name presented, the crowd reacts according to their personal opinions of each combatant. “First match of the evening will be the incredible Oerba Yun Fang vs. the energetic April ‘AJ’ Mendez! Second match is the self-proclaimed “showoff” Sean Matsuda vs. the powerhouse Joe ‘the Enforcer’ Anoa’i! Third match is everybody’s favorite sweetheart Leia Rolando vs. the sensational Kisaragi ‘Cutie’ Honey! Fourth match is the martial arts playboy Maxi vs. the psychedelic dynamo Curtis ‘Fandango’ Hussey! And the fifth match will be the enigmatic Lady Hood vs. the praying mantis Lion Rafale!” MC Dizzy pumps up the Tournament-goers with sheer gusto. “So, tell me, folks: Are! You! R-e-a-d-y?!” The crowd goes wild, as the hip and cool emcee initiates the contest amid departure. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road!”
Zephyr and Syd watch the action unfold from their first row seats, pleased to see everyone competing tonight, including those they know little about. “Hey, who’re you cheering for, Zephyr?” Syd’s query earns the Keeper of Souls’ attention and provokes quick wit. “Well, any favorites? Come on, I got to know, mate.”
“Well …” Zephyr comes up with a quick answer. “It doesn’t matter. May the best man or woman win, right?”
“Ah, I see.” Syd giggles. “So, you’re a man of equality. Well, it’s always good to be that way in my book.”
A clever smile brightens Zephyr’s countenance. “First Match: Oerba Yun Fang vs. April Mendez!” The head announcer’s statement calls the said combatants from their sitting places to the center circle. Fang stands to the left, and April stands to the right. “Fighters, ready!” Fang draws her dual-sided spear from its holster, and April prepares for hand-to-hand combat. “Begin!” With the announcer’s word, Fang and April engage in a battle of wit, skill, speed, agility, endurance, intelligence and power. At first, the match favors Fang due to her obvious in-ring advantages; however, with time, the tides of battle take a most unexpected turn: April surprises Fang with an explosion of calculative interceptions, exposing otherwise unseen openings in Fang’s strategy. This tide-changer results in the disorientation of the seasoned Fang, which leaves her open for a finishing blow! April’s spitfire offenses see her as the victor of this match, much to the wonder of the crowd! The announcer makes the call. “The winner is by technical knockout: April “AJ” Mendez!”
April, banged-up and fatigued, lifts her right fist, victorious and proud. “Aww, Fang …” Syd’s obvious disappointment earns Zephyr’s pity, especially since he knows the boy’s relationship with the loser. “She lost … I’m happy that AJ won, but …” The Keeper of Souls pats Syd’s head, understanding his pain. “Oh well, it was a good fight.”
“Situations of the sort are never easy.” Zephyr’s wisdom earns Syd’s indirect attention. “But these things, when done in good taste, can be beneficial.” Syd faces Zephyr and immediately notices a proud air. The Keeper of Souls’ eyes are lovingly planted on the well-battled April and Fang, who’re currently bathing in public adoration. “Watch closely, Syd. These incredible women are about to display the fruits of good sportsmanship.”
“Um, okay.” The boy depressingly returns his attention to the center circle. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
In the ring, Fang props herself up with her spear well enough to stand eye-to-eye with the triumphant. “I’ve got to admit, AJ. You got me good back there. Stuck it to me really good you did.” April smiles, stands most endearingly and begins conducting herself with innocent character. Fang finds the strength to stand upright, despite her concussion. “Well, all’s fair in love and war. Besides, there’s always next year. No use getting a sour belly over one little loss, right?”
April giggles endearingly. “Acceptance is good for the soul. So …” She extends her hand to Fang, who accepts it and gives her a firm handshake. “Thanks for the wonderful experience. You’re one hell of a fighter.”
“Likewise, mate.”
Syd is amazed by how classy the two combatants are behaving. Even after going toe-to-toe most fiercely, April and Fang are capable of exhibiting virtue, honor, and integrity. “The true battle is against an individual’s inner self, not against his or her opponent. This fact pertains to all creatures.” Zephyr’s wisdom regains Syd’s direct attention, this time reintroducing the boy to his smile. “They fought well, and they both won this match. No call can change that, Syd.”
Realization distorts Syd’s youthful countenance with a smile. “You’re right.” He returns his attention to the center circle, and notices the combatants taking a bow. “Way to go, ladies!” Syd applauds. “That’s how you do it!” After accepting the crowd’s appreciation, the combatants leave the center circle. Intermissions between matches are precisely 5 minutes, so this leaves Zephyr and Syd with a little conversation time. “This place is great, isn’t it?” The boy’s sudden question surprises Zephyr, but provokes something good—the observance of the Stadium of Champions. A lavishly built epicenter of excitement, constructed with state-of-the-art architectural and scientific technology. A powerful air conditioning system keeps all rooms in the arena crisp and comfortable. Confections and refreshments, Tournament paraphernalia, souvenirs and keepsakes, and everything else needed to make this a special occasion. “This place just appeared here around the time we arrived from our former worlds.” Zephyr returns his attention to Syd, and notices a sense of confusion. “Don’t know a thing about the place, but the convenience is …”
“… Satisfactory but unclear, leaving a haunting sense of incompleteness.” Zephyr’s wisdom once again earns Syd’s attention, and introduces the boy to a different expression: reminiscence. “That’s how I felt during my time with the people of the Luminous Temple; confused and incomplete. But despite how I felt, I still loved them.”
“How did you cope?”
“… Embrace.” Zephyr closes his eyes, smiles and returns his attention to the center circle. Syd patiently and quietly observes his acquaintance, of whom he’s starting to accept as his friend. “When one is confused, feeling lost and different, it’s best that this person take their own path to resolution. With choice comes several options, but the probabilities of these options are imbalanced.” Syd begins reflecting on what Zephyr says. “My choice … was embrace. And although I lived a sad and dispiriting life, I was happy to some extent. So when I lost them …”
“It shattered your heart to pieces?” Zephyr remains inaudible; for, Syd’s guesstimate is miserably accurate. The boy realizes how gravely wounded his new friend is; and thus, decides to do something about it. “… I’ll help you find them.”
Zephyr looks to the boy with stubborn eyes. “Syd, please.”
“No, Zephyr, I want to help you because …” The boy fights his tears and wins, toughens up, and speaks seriously to Zephyr. “My parents are the smartest scientists in the entire galaxy. They’re names are Dr. Marceau and Lana Handling-Greywords, inventors of the all-powerful Proto-Existia Engine.” Zephyr is intrigued by Syd’s confession, a boy capable of showing great passion under pressure. “Their invention could have revolutionized our world, advancing any and everything imaginable. Living would’ve been a lot easier, and people would’ve been able to do lots of things. But …” Syd pauses for a moment to recompose himself, as his emotions are rousing due to an ocean of returning memories. “We’ll find our loved ones together.” Syd takes Zephyr’s adjacent hand. “I promise. Just need to finish my ship first.”
“Um, ship?” Zephyr giggles confusedly. “What ship?”
Syd releases Zephyr’s hand and blushes proudly. “She’s my baby—I call her ‘Aquila.” The Keeper of Souls is further intrigued by the boy, whose intelligence and skill never cease to impress him. “When the Tournament’s done, I’ll take you and a few others to see her. Fang already knows about Aquila, heck, she helped me built her up a bit.”
“Ah, so Fang is also versed in construction?”
“Believe it or not, mate.”
“Oh, that’s a rather interesting bit of information.” Suddenly, a horrible feeling comes upon Zephyr, changing his overall mood from pleased to gravely serious. The Cosmos are speaking to him, directing Zephyr to the easternmost entryway—door 7 just above row 32. “Hmm …” Syd observes the said area and notices a curious distant stalker—the mysterious hood, who ogles them most fiercely. “That stranger … Her aura is flooding with Chaos.” Zephyr’s observation earns Syd’s worried attention. “Something tells me the Tournament’s destined for bad air.”
“You mean …”
“… Syd …”
“What’s up, Zephyr?”
“… Stay close to me at all times.” Zephyr’s fists ball amid an infuriating recollection. “There’s this man after me. His name is Insidious, and he’s the one responsible for my pain.” The Keeper of Souls notices the mysterious hood departing for whereabouts unknown, and immediately becomes conflicted. “Still, I’m not sure if I can defeat him on my own or with help. He’s dangerous. Insidious’s deathly wiles tricked my heart and threw me astray.”
“Then, you really need some help against a bloke like that.”
“… I don’t have a choice in the matter, anyway.” Remembrances of his predestined journey return en masse, reviving a sense of duty. “According to legend, I, the Keeper of Souls, am fated to befriend powerful beings that would become my Guardians; people chosen by providence, bearing Souls protected by the hallowed Arcana. I … believe I may have met two of them just recently.” Syd folds his arms most intriguingly with a confident smile. Zephyr notices the boy’s proud behavior, which tickles him to a sense of joyful curiosity. “What are you so sunny about all of a sudden?”
Syd giggles proudly. “I’m a Guardian!”
“Oh, my.” Zephyr giggles and pets Syd’s head. “Yes, Syd, you’re my Guardian through and through.”
“Right you are, Zephyr! Humph!” The boy proudly places his fists on his hips. “And if anyone says otherwise or brings you any harm, I’ll make them pay I will!” He removes the Keeper of Souls’ hand, cups it in his own and makes a solemn promise to his new friend. “I’ll find a way to revive your happiness. It’ll be … my greatest invention ever!”
It’s surprising to Zephyr but promising, so much that his original good mood returns. “Thank you, Syd.”
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Stadium, the former competitors are presently exchanging a little light banter, discussing the excitement incited by their in-ring performance. Yes, it’s a known fact that many warriors are incapable of displaying honor among their brethren; what many call “bad sportsmanship”. Yes, unfortunately, there are a select few who would do any and everything possible to win. “Hey, you two have a moment to spare?” April and Fang are halted by a one-woman road block—the mysterious hood, standing bold and proud. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just wanted to … talk.”
Fang curiously scratches her head. “Talk about what?”
“Relevance and consequence. Two of my favorite subjects.”
“Err, okay, if you say so.” Fang gives April a look that speaks for itself—she’s beyond confused. Ironically, April’s feeling the same way, only she’s putting up a jolly front. “So, what’s on your mind about these err … subjects?”
April flips her hair and giggles sardonically. “I think I already have a clue.” However, her cheery front distorts into a fierce glare; for, though April conducts herself blithely, she’s not an amateur in any fashion. “Consequence and relevance. Yes. These subjects are rather …” April giggles and places her hands behind her back, behaving coyly in a mocking manner. “Scary. But they’re realistic and I can tell you’re a very … ‘realistic’ person, right?”
The mysterious hood giggles tauntingly, before cutting into a series of graceful movements, whilst materializing a beautiful foil into her right hand from thin air! “Cripes, AJ, get ready!” Fang draws her dual-sided spear and stands defensively, and although April is unarmed, she braces for any sudden attacks. “Looks like this lout’s hungry for a fight.”
“Humph. So much for ‘talking’.”
The mysterious hood mocks April and Fang with an annoying cackle, before engaging them head-on! For the first time, Fang and April join forces to fend against this hooded madwoman. Fang maintains a solid defense to keep the hood busy, while April mixes offense with counter-offense to keep the hood on her toes. Unfortunately, this strategy works for so long, as the hood begins exhibiting a larger in-battle repertoire than expected. “There!” The hood intercepts an opening in April’s offense, knocking her unconscious with a sharp uppercut to the solar plexus! Fang moves in for the save, and momentarily stands her ground with impeccable offense and defense. “Humph! Silly little roach! If you couldn’t even defeat her, *what makes you think you can defeat me*?” The hood combatively explodes! “H-a-a-a-h!”
Fang parries every thrust of the hood’s foil with ease. “Ha! Looks like you’re beginning to lose your cool. That’s never good, mate, and I’ll show you why!” With the strength of a hundred women, Fang breaks the hood’s offenses with a fierce swipe of her dual-sided spear, capitalizing on her opponent’s recovery period to move in for the kill! “Here I go!” Amid the fierce avenger’s comeback, April awakens in time to witness Fang mauling the hood with unbelievable martial fury! “Ha! Feeling hot-headed are you?” With a powerful swing of her dual-sided spear as her finishing touch, Fang sends the airborne hood flying away, turns, and poses proudly. “Humph. Hope that remedied your ailment.”
Unfortunately, this assault alone is not enough to put the hood out, as she recovers quickly with inhuman agility, crosses her right hand, sways it and tosses a crescent wave of darkness towards her opponent. “D-a-r-k-n-e-s-s Rebound!” Fang turns almost too late to fend against the surprise attack, but much too late to fortify her stance, which causes her to lose balance! Fortunately, April isn’t the weak woman the hood takes her as; for, in an explosion of passion, the spitfire warrior rushes into the assist for Fang, acting as her base in time of great need. The hood, in all her arrogance, mocks them with annoying laughter. “… My, oh my, how the weak gather under pressure. Oerba Yun Fang, a woman from a world bound for destruction, bred from an ancient race of nomadic warriors. April Mendez-Brooks, a multi-time champion of women’s wrestling, a wife, a survivor, and an inspiration to all … Humph. I’m not impressed. Now, die!”
“Cripes, what the …” Fang’s beginning to lose strength. “I … feel strange …”
April is feeling the same. “Me too, Fang. I … don’t think I can …”
The mysterious hood laughs malevolently, as her willpower overwhelms the fading warriors. “H-o-n-e-y Boomerang!” Fortunately, before all is lost, the voice of another Soul resounds vibrantly, as a speeding razor boomerang cuts through the hood’s Darkness Rebound projectile! The hood’s apparent construction of Chaos is dissipated, resulting in the rescue of April and Fang. “I don’t know who you are, but …” The voice attracts everyone’s attention to the east, where none other than the beautiful Kisaragi Honey stands bravely as her alter ego: Cutie Honey! The mysterious hood calms her Chaos Manipulation, allowing her to ground herself before a woman who awakens resentment and rage in her. “Attacking people to ensure victory is pathetic! What kind of woman are you?” The razor boomerang returns to Cutie Honey’s right wrist, and materializes into an armband. The mysterious hood fortifies her armed defenses! Cutie Honey materializes a foil quite similar to the hood’s foil, only hers appears much purer! “So you still want to fight, huh? Fine! Let’s go!”
The mysterious hood explosively engages Cutie Honey, confessing deeply-rooted emotion behind her every move! “Damn you!” Unfortunately, for the mysterious hood, her anger spoils her offenses, causing her to become predictable and ineffective in every possible aspect. “Damn you! Damn you! Stay s-t-i-l-l!” The mysterious hood detonates a full-body explosion of Chaos meant to injure Cutie Honey; however, the nimble flower of battle dances through the Chaos with a victorious blade, dissipating the evil energy most gracefully. “No!” The hood infuriates! “Curse you, Honey!”
Suddenly, Cutie Honey delivers the tide-turner with a touch of the brooch on her choker, which augments the energy levels of her foil, causing it to emit a beautiful rose glow. “H-o-n-e-y Flash!” With these words, the light explodes from her foil and blinds the mysterious hood, giving Cutie Honey enough time to pursue her with unseen aggression and recover at the hood’s rear, standing upright most proudly. Amid the fading light, the rags are torn from the mysterious hood’s body, revealing a lean, strong and solid womanly frame. Unfortunately, before anyone can get a good look at her, the mysterious hood leaps high into the air, out of sight. April and Fang observe the hood’s escape from a distance, but are immediately attracted to the approaching Cutie Honey. “… I knew she would come here.” Having regained their strength during the aforementioned instance, April and Fang stand upright and face their rescuer. “Are you two alright?”
“Yeah, just peachy.” Fang retracts and holsters her dual-sided spear. “So …” She curiously folds her arms, unsettled by what just happened. “You know that maniac back there, Honey?”
“Yes, Fang, I do. She … is my sister.”
Fang is beside herself with shock. “Sister!? What the bloody hell!?”
“All jokes aside, Honey.” April dusts herself off and winds her shoulders. “Your family’s crazy. Major.”
Cutie Honey, ashamed and angered, is forced to shake her unseen confliction away. “… I’m so very sorry about that, Fang, April.” With a touch of her choker’s brooch, Cutie Honey downgrades into her civilian form in a flash of shining wind; a charming, fashionable young blonde with a loving smile. “Her name … is Hazuki Seira. Her alter ego is ‘Misty Honey,’ and she is my biogenetical twin sister.” April and Fang give Honey their complete attention, as she explains everything she knows about her twin sister Seira. “Our father was named ‘Dr. Kisaragi Ryu,’ and he was murdered by an organization known as ‘Panther Claw’. His dying wish was that I end the Panther Claw threat, but during one of my efforts to stop them, I was blindsided by Sister Jill—my archrival—who subsequently extracted pieces of my DNA and used Dr. Kisaragi’s Airborne Element Fixing technology to create Seira. Unfortunately, her efforts were fatally in vain; for, Seira soon turned on Sister Jill and killed her.” April and Fang are stunned to hear so much graphic detail about Honey and Seira’s history. The confessing Honey continues on. “You see, Seira and I are battle androids; combat-ready robots with human appearance. That explains all the things we can do that most humans can’t, but from what I’ve noticed …” Honey smiles admirably at her acquaintances. “Humans are just as incredible as androids.”
Even if they want to absorb Honey’s adoration, the situation is much more serious than they expected. “Do you think she entered the Tournament to …” April doesn’t even have to finish her sentence. Honey answers her with an affirming nod, which unnerves the spitfire warrior. “This isn’t good. If that maniac goes berserk, the people will …”
Fang takes the initiative. “Is there anything we can do to help, Honey?”
“Fight and survive.” Honey steps forward with a game plan. “During the remainder of the first bracket, I need you two to help me patrol the hallways. I’ll inform the others as soon as possible. The best method is the shared method.” April and Fang nod agreeably. “Okay, ladies. And …” Honey directly addresses April. “Good luck out there tonight.”
April accepts with a smile. “Thanks a mil, Honey. You too.”
“Be safe.” Fang leads the way for April with good partings. “Come on, mate.”
The female warriors part ways for now in search of Seira, Honey’s biogenetical twin sister. Ironically, the said damsel-out-for-blood is elsewhere recovering from her sister’s brutal counter-attack. (I … was careless …) Indeed, she was careless in the face of her sister, whom she desires to kill given the chance. (Honey, you were lucky this time. And I have myself to blame for your victory.) Seira stands, and with the snap of her fingers, veils herself with an airborne-fixed copy of her original cloak! (… I won’t make the same mistake again. Next time, I *will* kill you—slowly and painfully.) Seira turns and parts to whereabouts unknown, devising a plan to make tonight one to remember. (Humph. I’m not waiting around for a match against some over-privileged faded memory … Perhaps I’ll entertain myself for a spell.)
Back in the center circle, the match between Sean Matsuda and Joe Anoa’i has already been initiated. “So, you ready for this, kid?” Joe’s inviting tone veils unstoppable determination. The cheering crowd only adds to the suspense, rousing a hint of nervousness in the younger Sean. “Hey, you heard me? I asked if you’re head’s in the game, kid.”
“… Yeah.” A rush of determination meets Sean’s gloved fists, and fortifies his battle stance. “I was born ready!”
“Humph. Sure hope so, kid.” With the ferocity of a buckling beast, Joe kneels, slams his fist onto the mat, and incites a mild boom from the canvas! “Because I’m not holding back. Training time is over!”
“My thoughts exactly. Bring it!”
The announcer makes the call, as the crowd goes wild. “Fighters, ready! Begin!”
Joe unbuckles from his readied position and charges the confident Sean, who returns the gesture with an equal dosage of speed, power and precision! The two hotheaded warriors struggle most fiercely; Joe displaying incredible strength with a striker form of professional wrestling, and Sean displaying the fruits of his master’s Shotokan training. Unfortunately, Sean has a bit of an advantage over Joe, as he’s capable of conjuring and manipulating Ki Energy to a certain extent; though he lacks some mastery of this technique. “H-a-d-o-u Burst!” This handicap makes for a very interesting battle with lots of twists and turns, which keeps the crowd on the edge of their seats! “Ha! Didn’t see that one coming, did ya?” Joe recovers from evading a sequence of Hadou Burst fireballs, already showing signs of fatigue. “It’s all right, man. If anything, you’re a lot stronger than me.” Sean’s sudden show of in-ring sportsmanship registers with Joe. “I want to become a stronger warrior like my master—and from what I’ve noticed, like you too.”
“… Keep your head in the game, kid.” Joe stands and fortifies his defenses. “Always. No matter what.”
“Humph. Right you are.” Sean skillfully engages Joe, taking the muscle by surprise with impeccable speed.
The match continues on most thrillingly, rousing the excitement of everyone in the arena, especially a certain set of friends watching from the first row. “I can’t believe that bloke made the Enforcer take a break!” Zephyr is tickled by Syd’s in-crowd enthusiasm, especially since the boy’s mimicking some of their techniques. “Boom! Shoo! Bang! Wham! Man, Zephyr, this battle sure is getting the blood going for your mate, yeah!”
“Oh, I can see that.” Unfortunately, the excitement dies for Zephyr, who notices yet another odd sight within the crowd: a set of curious-looking characters bearing black cloaks and hoods. These questionable Souls have their eyes set upon him, causing Zephyr to develop a most unpleasant air about them. (Those people. And their aura … Who are they?) Unfortunately, before he can come to a reasonable conclusion, an in-ring climax attracts his undivided attention: Sean has fallen victim to a back suplex side slam from Joe, which incapacitates the young warrior! This development unsettles Zephyr, who recently acquainted himself with the dazed martial artist. (Oh, no! Sean … Get up, Sean!) Still, he has to remember that this is a battle competition, not a place for personal opinions and feelings. (No. Sean is a warrior … And as a warrior myself, I know he doesn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him. So!) Once again, the Keeper of Souls finds himself doing things he wouldn’t normally do. Behaving as he normally wouldn’t. “Give it all you’ve got!” Syd is attracted to the sound of Zephyr shouting along with the crowd like a Tournament regular. “Sean, Mr. Anoa’i, go! That’s the spirit!” With a little crowd motivation, Sean rises to his feet and charges towards the stationary Joe! The fierce muscle buckles once more to engage the spunky martial artist with an exchange of fists! The suspense thickens before … “Huh?” The atmosphere is cascaded with a curious wave of Chaos originating from whereabouts unknown! Everyone in the arena is suspended where they stand, all except for the confused Keeper of Souls. “What’s going on here?”
(Humph. Sweet, sweet-hearted Zephyr.) The haunting voice of Insidious returns, projected from whereabouts unknown, as the suspicious characters from before appear in the center circle from fleeting corridors of Chaos! Zephyr gasps in recollection of the cloaked individuals, who are threateningly close to the in-ring competitors. (Aww, what’s wrong, Keeper of Souls? Concerned? Humph. Honestly, boy … How could one care for those they know so little about?)
“… It’s simple, Insidious.” The Keeper of Souls leaps the railings of the first row, reaching humanly impossible heights, conveyed by Souls of those long gone and unseen. Men, women, children and beasts who see him land safely upon the center circle, and bravely stand before the hooded characters. “Just like the Souls conveying my every move. You don’t have to know someone to care about them, love and cherish them. It’s called ‘being genuine’. Even wildlife deserves genuine affection and respect, domesticated or not … Sadly, people like you fail to exercise that fact.”
(Ah, but I am not a person. I am a spirit. One manifested from the hearts of mankind *and* wildlife.) The hooded figures unveil themselves with a tug of their cloaks, revealing their true form: Soulless resembling boxers donning gloomily-colored black and white ring gear! Zephyr is taken aback by the Soulless, who exchange a few unsuccessful punches with him. Despite their efforts, Zephyr remains light on his feet amid Insidious’s remote verbal taunting. (Fine specimens, aren’t they? They’re called “Pugilists”. Quite fitting a Soulless, wouldn’t you agree?)
“… Humph!” Zephyr rebuttals Insidious’s question with martial form, making quick work of the Pugilists with fierce chops, powerful push palms, precision kicks and nimble acrobatics. He finishes the last Pugilist off, before being surprised by a second Soulless spawn! “What the …” Zephyr irately fortifies his defenses. “Another one? But … how?”
(The Soulless are those without Souls; thus, they seek those possessing Souls. Strong ones such as yours, well … They won’t stop chasing you until they claim your Soul.) Amid the stalking Insidious’s explanation, Zephyr tirelessly engages the re-spawning Pugilists, who mindlessly and unsuccessfully swing their Soul-stealing fists for his heart. Their persistence calls for the roots of Zephyr’s training, as he begins exercising Soul Manipulation techniques to strategically dispel and distance the Pugilists to re-engage them with mix-up tactics. (Ah, yes, your Soul is ripe with vigor. Purity. Life-essence. The Soulless will unceasingly pursue you no matter where you go, what you do, or who you turn to. That is, all except for me, one possessing dominion over the Soulless. I can call them off. All you have to do ... is surrender to me.)
(S-Surrender?) The Keeper of Souls is beginning to tire out. His strategy is concrete, but the Soulless … No matter what he does, they won’t cease their pursuit for his Soul. This brings Zephyr to an emotional impasse amid his struggle. (No … I refuse! I won’t give up … But, if I don’t, they’ll take my Soul. If that happens, no one will be able to defeat Insidious and stop the Chaos from spreading. But … Oh, geez, I don’t know anymore!)
Suddenly, a voice whispers from the suspended Joe. “S-s … Stop …” A light … A brilliant emerald light emerges from the suspended Joe, dispelling the Pugilists en masse! This light creates a miracle in more ways than one, as the unstoppable muscle unbuckles from suspended animation most vigorously! “S-t-o-p!!!”
Insidious grunts painfully, confessing injury induced from hearing Joe’s powerful voice. Even the amazed Zephyr is forced to cover his ears, before the Chaos plaguing the arena is lifted and everyone is freed from suspended animation. Unfortunately, this endeavor costs Joe greatly, as he falls onto his knees and collapses onto the mat! The light leaves his body from a lack of consciousness, as Sean turns and notices the odd developments. “Huh? You?” Zephyr’s attention is earned by the confused martial artist, who curiously scratches his head. “Err, what are you doing here?”
“They’re after me …”
“Huh? Who’s after you?”
“… The Soulless. They’re after my Soul.” The deciding bell rings, ending the match by call of the judge’s panel … Zephyr turns to notice the unrest that has infected the Tournament-goers. Apparently, they know what happened during their moments of suspended animation. “We need to get Mr. Anoa’i someplace where he can rest.” Zephyr returns his attention to Sean, who seems more than willing to help. “I … believe he may very well have discovered something special about himself. It may have cost him the match, but it saved everyone. We wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren’t for him.” Sean nods, realizing what Zephyr says is true, before helping him lift and shoulder Joe. “Let’s go, Sean.”
“Right.” With the muscle supported by two willing helpers, the journey towards the infirmary begins. “I could see you when I couldn’t move. You were … really good.” Zephyr is tickled to a blush by Sean’s admiration. “No, seriously, you were really good. And here I thought the old man was the strongest Kung-Fu artist alive.”
“Um … What’s this ‘Kung-Fu’ you speak of?”
“Huh? What you were doing—that’s Kung-Fu, right?”
“No, it’s called ‘Yìshù Gài Cí,’ the Way of the Gates. It’s a technique made for dispelling Soulless.”
“Oh, I see.” Sean blushes. “Then, would you like to spar sometime?”
“I’ve seen how you fight, and to be honest …” Zephyr snickers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Hey, what is *that* supposed to mean?” The Keeper of Souls is tickled once again by the young martial artist, who lacks the discipline and wisdom to be called “a true Shotokan warrior”. However, despite Sean’s lack of martial refinement, he possesses impressive skills learned from hard work and dedication. This trait sustained him in his battle against Joe, who is much more refined in terms of discipline and strategy than Sean. “You know, I really try hard—to appease my master, so he can give me my full training. Not just a few goes against him, you know?” The two succeed at escorting Joe to the hallway entrance, where they take a moment to rest. “Do you think … it’s paying off?”
“… That’s something you need to decide on your own.” Zephyr smiles at Sean with wise and all-knowing eyes. “My master taught me that, and he’s … my adopted father. It goes like this: ‘A warrior needs not the approval of man, but of his or her self’. If the spirit is not satisfied, then a warrior’s fist is powerless.”
“Oh. I see.” Sean takes a moment to absorb Zephyr’s words. “… Let’s go. The big guy needs his rest.”
“Right, my thoughts exactly.”
“Oi! Were you thinking of leaving me behind for these soft backs?” Zephyr is halted by the voice of Syd, who impedes their path, after having worked his way around the arena from the neighboring section. “Well?” He places his fists on his hips, a bit upset with Zephyr. “Don’t tell me you’re getting all sweet on these soft backs all of a sudden?”
“Um …” Zephyr blushes, before Joe releases a slight grunt of pain. The Keeper of Souls is quickly reminded of why he left the stands, looks forward and addresses Syd. “Now’s not the time for this. We need to get Mr. Anoa’i to a bed so I can heal him.” Syd is confused by what Zephyr means. “Please, Syd. ‘Soft back’ or not, this man needs our help. If it weren’t for him, none of us would be alive right now, so don’t make this any harder than what it already is. Please.”
As much as he despises rookies, the boy can’t argue with Zephyr. Joe sacrificed a lot to ensure everyone’s safety; thus, he deserves respect. No matter how embarrassing it may be, Syd cannot escape this truth. “Humph. Fine.” Syd turns and leads the way. “Follow me, mates. Locker rooms are right this way. No need in blokes dying, right?”
The Keeper of Souls nods satisfactorily. “Right, Syd.” Zephyr rallies his help. “Come on, Sean.”
With much on their plate, Zephyr, Sean and Syd escort Joe towards a resting place—the Stadium infirmary, where injured or incapacitated warriors are held post-match. (Humph. Humans are so typical.) The elusive and aloof Seira watches from a seated perch point upon the ceiling rails. She bounces her left leg upon her right, sitting most leisurely on a place most would consider dangerous, watching all passers with vigilant, judgmental eyes. (Ah, caring Keeper of Souls whose heart knows no boundaries, what color is your blood?) Her face devilishly distorts. (Is it red? Or is it jade like those sexy garbs you’re sporting? Hmm … My, how curious. Mm, yes. How … i-n-v-i-t-i-n-g-l-y curious!)
In reaction to the previous events, Curtis has taken refuge in his locker room to clear his head. For a few moments, he felt the cold sting of Chaos; an unforgettable experience for any first-timer … Now, he is attempting to reconnect the shattered pieces of his general outlook, secluded behind four white walls, sequestered from his friends. Seated upon a divan set beside a window that outlooks most of Victory City, Curtis’s mind overflows with awed contemplation. (I … can’t believe that happened. All of it. It was … like some kind of freaky dream.) Curtis comes from a world where such things aren’t commonplace; as a matter of fact, it’s the bread of fiction. As if people shooting fireballs and defying the laws of physics weren’t enough---that chaotic experience happened before his very eyes. (Zeph. Joe. Sean … I don’t know what those things were, or where that strange voice was coming from, but I’m pretty sure I’ll find out sooner or later.)
The psychedelic gentleman leaves his lounging spot, and ventures to a sink adjacent to his locker. He turns on the cool water, and takes a moment to wet his face … For some strange reason, he feels excessively warm; as if his entire body were aflame on the inside. (Humph. Look at you.) A curious development from the mirror above his sink lifts his head, to the most peculiar sight---his reflection is talking to him. (Greetings, Curtis. Do you know who I am?) A straightforward man at heart, this only adds fuel to the fire---all puns aside. Curtis rubs his eyes and shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of what he believes is a hallucination. (What are you doing? You look silly.)
“... You’re not real.”
(Huh?)
“You’re not real.” Curtis unfolds with resilience. “You’re not there!”
His reflection laughs upon his close-mindedness. (If you think you’re going crazy, think again.) Curtis is further confused by the reflection’s words, as experiencing such happenstances would normally mean such a thing. (My apologies. I should’ve been more straightforward with you, so you wouldn’t feel out of place.)
Curtis intrigues. “Who … are you?”
(I am the Magician, the omnipotent Arcana representing action, practicality, precision, and objectivity.) The revealed Arcana’s words captivate Curtis; for, he never thought such an entity existed. (My purpose is to guide the Fool out of the gate of childhood into the sunlight of consciousness. I represent the potential of a new adventure, chosen or thrust upon one; a journey undertaken in daylight.) As the Magician Arcana continues, Curtis can feel the burning sensation settling in his heart, creating an inner flame so mesmerizing and gentle. Never before has he felt such loving warmth. (I bring things out of the darkness into the light, and I explore the world in order to master it. I … am solar consciousness.)
“Solar … consciousness?” Upon uttering these queried words, Curtis gets the answer of a lifetime: his hands are gently lit by a quiet flame, yet his flesh isn’t burning. “What the …” He’s speechless. For the first time in his entire life, Curtis is absolutely speechless, having never thought such a thing were possible. “W-o-w ... Un-freaking-believable.”
(You are the first of his preordained Guardians to make a connection with him, and partially live up to your purpose---despite having a long journey ahead of you. Hence, why I am able to speak with you so intimately.) Hearing the Magician Arcana’s statement reminds Curtis of his previous meeting with Zephyr, and how close they became in such a short period of time. It was almost unreal, finding so much common ground with one person in less than twenty-four hours. It was almost as if they really were destined to meet, and now, having heard the Magician Arcana’s words … Everything makes sense to him. (He opened his heart to you, Curtis, and unknowingly chose you to become his Guardian. Your journey will open many doors---most of which will hinder your path, vice versa.)
Curtis balls his open hands into gentle fists, remembering Zephyr’s words. “... He promised to help me find them.”
(Your loved ones, yes. His heart is pure, which attracts the Chaos. Pandemonium’s Hearts will surely pursue him.) The flame upon Curtis’s fists quietly extinguishes, as he lifts his head to behold the true image of the Magician Arcana: the very same one seen in Zephyr’s dreams, which ironically has appeared in Curtis’s dreams in the past. (You must be the solar flame that lights the way, even in the deepest darkness. The Souls of the Universe depend on your cooperation.)
“I know, but ...” Curtis wrestles with his insecurities, which are apparently rather strong. “I can’t protect anybody … I was a soldier in a life before my previous one, and … I just …” The psychedelic gentleman places his hand on his chest, feeling guilt and diffidence eating away at his heart. Bit by bit. “I don’t want to stand in his way.” The Magician Arcana giggles upon Curtis’s lack of confidence, angering the professed soldier. “Why you … What’s so funny?”
(... You really do have a big heart, Curtis.) Once again, the Magician Arcana has seen beneath Curtis’s thick shell---so much that he’s brought him to silence. (He saw that in you---the young man named Zephyr. You made him feel safe, and that is why he opened up to you so quickly. As the one protected by me, the Magician, you transcend duality.) The Arcana displays the table before him, drawing Curtis’s attention to the magic circle written on it. (Resting inside your passionate soul is the fundamental elements of the universe. You will be the one to awaken the powers of the other five Guardians; for, you are their leader. And as a leader, you must be the one to rally your troops---not the Keeper of Souls.)
“But how can I accomplish something like that?”
(“As above, so below.”) The Magician Arcana’s response somehow awakens the flame of Curtis’s Soul once again. That statement---“as above, so below”---stands out so much to him. It’s as if these words are rooted in the depths of his heart, and react whenever they are iterated. (Mastery in one realm may bring mastery in another.) Curtis hears the Arcana’s advice, and takes it to heart; words that rouse his inner flame. (However, be wary.) The Magician folds his arms, extending a warning to the attentive Curtis. (There is danger in applying lessons from one realm to another. If you choose to exercise this wisdom, be careful. You may not see the same results as before, vice versa.)
“... I understand.” The psychedelic gentleman firms his stance, having realized his duty as a Guardian. “I can’t allow my past mistakes to hinder my walk. I have a mission ahead of me.” Sweet remembrances return to him---memories of spending time with Zephyr in the world of dreams. “Please, take me as I am, and I will do the same for you ... Share our strength to find what’s true.” Uttering those words revives so many tender emotions, dating back years before he saw the Keeper of Souls’ gentle smile. “He’s been there for me for a very long time. Since I was a teenager, in fact, but he was much younger than I was. I … remember him being such a lively kid. Full of love and energy. But when I became a soldier, I couldn’t see him like I did before … Always up so damned early in the morning, around the time when we would meet. I … felt like I was losing touch with him. And that weakened me---so much that I began failing at everything. Losing so many precious people who helped me move so far … who helped me become a man of ambition and leadership!” Curtis closes his eyes, trying his very best not to cry, but … His efforts fail him again; a tear escapes his left eyelid. The Magician Arcana knows who deep Curtis’s pain delves, and that is why he refuses to respond at this time. “I won’t let that happen again. This time … I will … I WILL make things right---even if I mess up along the way, I WILL repay his kindness!”
The Magician Arcana’s voice resonates in Curtis’s heart, sounding no louder than a faint whisper. (Yes, my emissary. Do this in honor of your friendship, and your dearly departed comrades. I will be with you every step of the way.)
Curtis opens his eyes and gazes into the mirror, only to see his original reflection. The Magician Arcana is undoubtedly resting in his heart once again. “... Time to get *my* head in the game.” The psychedelic gentleman looks at his locker room door with thoughts of his injured friend, and those involved in the previous incident, heavy on his mind. “If memory serves me correct, Leia and Honey should be fighting right now. And I’m up next against Maxi.” Curtis departs from his locker room, headed for the infirmary minutes away from his current location. “Joe. I hope you’re alright.”
As aforesaid, the match between Leia and Honey has reached climactic heights. The former displays an incredible mix-up game of martial arts and spiritual magic against the latter’s air-fixing technique. As the situation is merely a contest, Honey has blunted her foil’s blade into a metal rod, making it into more of a defensive weapon. Were she to fight at full power, Leia might be put in danger. As an honorable woman, she can’t risk making any overzealous mistakes. (That damned goody-two-shoes. Holding back against a weakling? Humph.) From the highest levels of the Arena, Seira observes Honey’s match against Leia most vigilantly. Despite her sister’s in-ring passion, Seira faults Honey’s technique because she’s not fighting at full power. Thus, the passion she’s used to seeing---Honey isn’t displaying it, hence her aversive sentiments. (This is boring. This entire thing … It’s boring!) With a snap of her fingers, Chaos is unleashed from random rifts in the atmosphere, and quickly cascades across the entire city! (It’s time, Honey. It’s time!)
Chaos covers all corners of Victory City, even the sky itself. All competitors, Tournament-goers, non-participating civilians, and commuters are immersed in never-ending naught. “What the hell!?” April steps forward in fright, recalling the final moments spent in her original world. “It’s … It’s the same as before …”
Fang draws her dual-sided spear, realizing what this means. “Looks like that Seira witch has upped the ante.” Suddenly, a sizeable spawn of Pugilists surrounds them at all sides! Fang and April prepare for combat. “See what I mean? … Damn! And there’s so many of them too. You’d think the witch were fighting an entire army.”
“If the Shadows are spawning with substantial numbers like this …” April balls her fists, and survives the attack of several Pugilists alongside her defending comrade. Thoughts of her friends, and all the citizens of Victory City, weigh heavily on her mind. “Then everyone’s in danger! Fang, let’s flatten these jokes and find the others. Pronto.”
Fang slashes and pierces her way through a large number of Pugilists! April powers, punches and kicks in the same manner as her comrade, making short work of the resilient Soulless! “Hate to break it to you, AJ.” The fending Fang momentarily draws her comrade’s attention. “But these things aren’t letting up. So, get out of here, mate. You’re needed elsewhere.” April attempts to say a word, but Fang bravely admonishes her. “I know, AJ. I know … But if both of us fall here, that’d be pretty crappy, you know.” April subdues several intercepting Pugilists, as Fang continues giving her a few parting words. “In my old world, I journeyed with several people who became precious to me over time, to see freedom---to realize a new world order. Free from gods and crystals. A place where we could live to the beat of our own drum; a world made just for us ... I’m used to defying fate, and I’m here to tell you: no darkness is going to stop me.”
“Fang …” A tear escapes April’s left eye mid-battle. “Don’t leave me, please.”
“Leave you?”
“I … don’t want to lose anyone else …”
“Humph. No need to worry about that.” Fang shakes several Pugilists, and leaps high into the air. “Like I said before, I’m used to defying fate---and no darkness is going to stop me! Highwind!” With the fierceness of a preying wolf, the nomadic warrior lifts her dual-sided spear and brings it down into a single Pugilist, casting an explosion that purifies the remainder of the Soulless spawn! April’s escape is now secured. “Get going, before they re-spawn! Hurry!”
“But, Fang, I---!”
“AJ, please---get out of here!” Hearing the urgency in Fang’s voice, April turns and races to find her friends. It pains her to see April go, but Fang sees something great ahead of her comrade; something that cannot be ignored. “Letting someone go is never an easy task when it comes to the emotional aspect of things. However, if you care about someone or something that much, then if you have to do it …” Another spawn of Pugilists surrounds the lone Fang, who braces for any oncoming advancements. “You just do it, believing that fate will somehow make things work out. Still, I’ve made a career out of defying fate, so I’m not sitting around and waiting for Lady Luck---at least, not like I used to.” With no ambition beside the unceasing pursuit for a Soul, the Pugilists engage Fang with ruthless aggression. “Survive, mate.” Fang resiliently fends against the Pugilists, in hopes that her words resonate within April’s heart. “Survive. Always!”
Meanwhile, Curtis has lost his way amongst the perpetual Chaos, which is just as thick as the one that destroyed his original world. Ironically, things are happening in the same manner as before: Chaos covers all walks of life, before the “Shadows” advent and drown everything in an ocean of unrelenting carnage. (Testing, testing---1, 2, 3.) Suddenly, the voice of Insidious haunts Curtis---along with everyone else not yet consumed by the Chaos. (Greetings, defiers of fate. For those of you who don’t know who I am, allow me to introduce myself. I am one of the Hearts of Pandemonium: Insidious, Seeker of Naught. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, everyone.) In the infirmary, Zephyr stands in defense of Syd, Sean, and the recovering Joe, against the omnipotent seeker. (Humph. I shall let you know this: your every effort is futile. There is no stopping the Chaos now; everything WILL be consumed. Permanently.)
Sean consults the fending Zephyr. “Hey, Zee. Is this the guy who …”
“Yes. He is the one who destroyed our worlds.” Insidious’s laughter haunts every corner of Victory City, expanding an ominous air as far as the Chaos can reach. “This dreadful man who calls himself a ‘Heart of Pandemonium’. A ‘seeker of naught’ … He is an eater of worlds, and he may very well claim this one---unless we do something about it!”
(Do not confuse effort with power, defiant Keeper of Souls.) Zephyr is taken aback by Insidious’s biting words. The seeker’s omnipotent eyes see everything that unfolds within the Chaos: Curtis’s lone struggle against several Pugilists, which turns into a team effort upon the advent of the assisting Maxi and Lion; April’s desperate race to find her friends; Fang’s lone battle against the re-spawning Pugilists; Leia and Honey’s valiant stand-off against the dominating Seira, who abandons her cloak to reveal her true form: Misty Honey. (Despite what you’ve learned, Chaos cannot be completely dispelled---only disbursed. Chaos is sentient. Even if it is scattered to the farthest reaches of the cosmos, Chaos will piece itself back together, becoming twice as strong in the process. My apologies for being the bearer of bad news, but … none of you will survive this. Your only route is to be consumed by the Chaos, and become one with naught itself!)
Insidious’s haunting laughter somehow manages to revive “a certain someone” from unconsciousness. “Geez, would you shut the hell up?” Zephyr, Syd and Sean turn to notice Joe rising from his recovery bed, cranky beyond comparison. “I could hear this joke the entire time. Humph. Talk about ‘annoyingly long-winded’.” Despite being light-headed from his initial loss of consciousness, Joe stands from his recovery bed, tall, broad and strong. “Is it true? Are YOU the one?”
(Humph. And if I said I am, what could *any of YOU* do about it?)
Curtis succeeds at dissipating a number of Pugilists, rewarding himself with enough time to respond. “Humph. What else could a bunch of warriors do but FIGHT?” Maxi effortlessly dances, swipes and kicks his way through the Soulless, making great use of his speed against their overwhelming numbers. Lion focuses on power, precision and technique to overcome the odds, proving experience counts against mindless killing machines. “Even if our path is a blind one, we will find the truth---the reality beyond our fists. That’s why … That’s why, no matter how many lackeys you send our way …”
In the blink of an eye, a graceful blur saves Curtis from an aerial ambush, effortlessly dissipating two Pugilists! The blur recovers several paces away from him, revealing itself to be an arrived April. “... We won’t give up. Never!” The courageous spitfire warrior stands upright, and aids her comrades in their struggle. “Everyone, fight on!”
Back in the Arena, the Chaos’s influence is substantially greater than anywhere else: the people have been consumed completely, and are now rising clusters of stardust. Only those with strong Cosmos can withstand the Chaos long enough to make do of what little time he or she has left. “H-o-n-e-y … Sexy … Dynamite!” Misty Honey’s onslaught continues, pitting Cutie Honey and Leia against overwhelming odds. What was once an energized thrust delivered by Misty Honey, has now become a furious concussion wave of Chaos emitted from her foil---the Misty Fleurette. Fortunately, the resilient warriors’ agility saves them, but unfortunately succeeds at provoking the bloodthirsty Misty. “Damn you! H-o-n-e-y … Feisty … Explosion!” With a lifting of her Misty Fleurette, the murderous assassin expands a deadly explosion of Chaos from her blade; one strong enough to raze the entire Arena! “Die, Honey!”
Honey moves in for the save, lands before Leia, touches her brooch and makes a righteous call. “H-o-n-e-y Flash!” From her air-fixing brooch emerges an explosion of purifying currents, which dissipates Misty’s Chaos discharge in a matter of seconds. The murderous assassin stands proudly, having realized her sister’s desperation. “You … won’t lay a finger on anyone else … Seira … Insidious …” Honey has become extremely fatigued, having pushed herself beyond the limits of her system several times in one moon. “Leia … get out of here … please …” Her quieted plight is heard by the brave teenager, who has struggled at her side the entire time. “If all else fails, Seira … will kill you …”
“Are you kidding me!?” Leia stubbornly persists. “You’re in no shape to fight by yourself!”
“Go, please!”
“Honey …”
The resilient battle android bravely stands, holds her foil---the Honey Fleurette---against her sister, and makes one last desperate plea to her devoted comrade. “In order to defeat her, I have to burn my Soul. That’s how it’s always been because, no matter how much I ignore it, Seira … is me …” Leia looks ahead and notices the apparent similarities. Misty Honey looks much darker than Cutie Honey, but the resemblance is uncanny. “I must defeat myself---not only for my sake, but for everyone else here. So go, Leia. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself … if any of you died on my account …”
“Honey …” The brave teenage warrior shakes her doubts away. “I understand. But you better not die on us!”
Leia leaves upon Cutie Honey’s request, to join the others in their struggle against the Soulless. And as expected, Misty Honey pursues the fleeing teenager with a daring leap---one that leaves her open for an interception, from none other than her sister Cutie Honey! Using their air-fixing systems to maintain their aerial position, the two engage in a floating exchange of furious, calculated thrusts and swipes with their foils! (No matter how hard you try. No matter how much you struggle … Defiers of fate, you cannot destroy the Chaos!) Insidious’s haunting voice echoes around every corridor of Victory City, filling the hearts of the struggling remnant warriors with uncertainty. (Look at all of you. Pathetic. You fight, fight and fight, all for the sake of a world doomed to oblivion? Humph. A wasted effort. Why not … embrace naught---become one with it? It would be much easier on your … poor, d-a-r-l-i-n-g little Souls.)
Zephyr suddenly gets a huge bad vibe from the Arena, amid his struggle against the Soulless. (Oh, no! That girl---she plans to …) The Keeper of Souls looks to his struggling comrades, Joe, Syd and Sean. “Everyone, stay here and keep the Soulless busy! I need to go assist Honey at once!” Syd nods to Zephyr, rears a technological sling in his usage, and clears a path for the Keeper of Souls with one charged precision shot! Zephyr takes Syd’s advantage to heart, and races towards Honey’s aid. (Something … Something inside my heart is calling me to her! I don’t know what it is, but … still …)
Assistance is gravely need for the struggling Cutie Honey. “H-o-n-e-y … Feisty … Explosion!” For, at this very moment, the battle against Misty Honey has taken a terrible turn: Cutie Honey’s system is beginning to disrupt in reaction to the surrounding Chaos! There’s something Honey failed to mention to Leia or anyone else---something that Misty Honey knows all too well. “Without a sufficient amount of sun or moonlight, your air-fixing system … will eventually shut down.” The murderous assassin’s words haunt Cutie Honey, as the valiant battle android collapses onto the mat … Misty Honey’s laughter echoes the Chaos responsible for Cutie Honey’s defeat. “Finally … Your Soul is mine, Kisaragi Honey!”
“Get away from her, you ill-mannered, jealous-hearted harpy!” Zephyr arrives in the nick of time, and saves the fallen Cutie Honey with a long-ranged blast of Soul Energy! “ Ascend, my shining spirit! Vajra Soul Dragon!” Misty Honey becomes overzealous and dashes towards Zephyr’s energy blast, attempting to cut through it with her Misty Fleurette! Her reckless behavior earns her the obvious results: Zephyr’s Vajra Soul Dragon overpowers her, sending the bloodthirsty assassin flying to the mat in unbearable pain! “Ms. Kisaragi!” The Keeper of Souls rushes to the fallen battle android’s aid, takes her into his arms, and attempts to verbally revive her. “Ms. Kisaragi, open your eyes. Ms. Kisaragi!”
(She will not answer you, Keeper of Souls.) Insidious taunts Zephyr from his remote whereabouts, haunting the worried savior most cruelly. (That woman has spent the last of her Soul. Her cosmos will soon ascend, and a powerful Soulless will be born. Call it … “a present” from me. Tell me, my darling little star. Are you not grateful?)
“You call *this* ‘a present’? You …” Zephyr holds Cutie Honey close, on the verge of tears. “You heartless monstrosity of a lecher! Why could I *ever* be grateful for something like this!?” Laughter booms from where Misty Honey lies, attracting the Keeper of Souls’ attention to the said area. Zephyr receives the shock of a lifetime, as he beholds the quick recovery of the graceful assassin---something that should be impossible, after having suffered the wrath of his Vajra Soul Dragon wave motion technique! “You!” The Keeper of Souls agitates. “You’re *still moving*? But … how?”
(She is my assassin; thus, she has my favor---the favor of Pandemonium.) Insidious’s explanation captivates Zephyr, as Misty Honey’s body lightly discharges Chaos. To fortify his defenses where he kneels, the Keeper of Souls constructs a barrier with a simple concentrating of his Cosmos. (Once again, your efforts are futile, my darling little star. In her current state, Misty Honey could destroy your barrier and KILL you in the blink of an eye. I wouldn’t provoke her if I were you. Misty Honey has … a bit of a temper problem. If you know what I mean.)
Suddenly, a grunt of life sounds from the unconscious Cutie Honey, attracting Zephyr’s attention to the said battle android resting in his arms. Misty Honey’s eyes glow with bloodlust, as she observes the Keeper of Souls’ kindness; tending to a young woman he knows little about. Such affection … It infuriates her to no end. “Why …” The graceful assassin’s angered tone attracts Zephyr’s attention. “Why … Kisaragi Honey … Why does everyone only look at HER?” The Keeper of Souls is taken aback by Misty Honey’s anger, having never seen the likes of it before. “All my life …” The graceful assassin lifts his unarmed left hand, and gazes upon it with aversive eyes. “Since I was created, I was always second to her---a copy of a waste of technology! An android with a heart for others … Bah! It sickens me!” The Chaos excites upon her frame, becoming like that of a quiet storm of shadows. “Battle androids are meant to KILL, not to love! Our only purpose lies at the end of our blade! But that *bitch* Kisaragi Honey …” Misty Honey aims the point of her Misty Fleurette at her unconscious biogenetical sister, who rests in Zephyr’s arms. “I will kill you. You have abandoned our true purpose; therefore, you are a failure. And failures do not deserve to live---especially ones like YOU, Kisaragi Honey!”
Zephyr closes his eyes, realizing the depths of Misty Honey’s hatred. “Your name … is Hazuki Seira, is it not?” The Keeper of Souls’ empathetic tone reaches the steel heart in the graceful assassin’s chest. “This isn’t our first time seeing eye-to-eye, but this is the first time we’ve spoken to each other. I know you’re hellbent on killing Ms. Kisaragi, but hear me out for a moment.” Although she normally doesn’t comply with the wishes of others, Misty Honey lowers her Fleurette, and gives Zephyr her undivided attention. “I heard your sentiments, and you’re absolutely right---things created for the sole purpose of combat should do nothing more than that. It’s their functionality; thus, they can know nothing else but bloodshed. However, you’ve forgotten one thing; something that I noticed a moment ago …” Zephyr looks into Misty Honey’s cold eyes, daring to gaze beyond the Chaos enveloping her heart. “You and Ms. Kisaragi are a lot alike.”
“Humph.” Misty Honey snickers amusedly. “What are you talking about? We’re leagues apart---her’s being much lower than mine.” The Keeper of Souls shakes his head, inciting annoyance in the graceful assassin. “What? Are you really liking me to that … That defective, classless, attention-hogging little tramp!?” Misty Honey points the tip of her Fleurette and the kneeling Zephyr with lethal intent. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t KILL you right now!?”
“Ms. Hazuki … Stop it. You’re behaving like a spoiled little child.” Suddenly, the emergence of hasty, grouped footsteps sounds from the area behind Zephyr, attracting his attention to the Chaos at his rear. “Huh?” The cavalry has arrived: Curtis, April, Joe, and---shockingly---Syd has escaped their battles. “Everyone, why are you here?”
Curtis steps forward and apologizes. “Sorry, Zeph. The others paved the way for us to get here.”
“We can’t let you face these assholes alone.” April persists. “Please, let us fight at your side.”
Joe seconds. “It’s not safe en solo, kid. These chumps mean business.”
Syd balls his fists and nods agreeably. “Everyone.” Zephyr is moved by their devotion. “Thank you very much.”
“H-o-n-e-y Sexy Dynamite!” Unfortunately, their moment is spoiled by an engaging Misty Honey, who pursues the distracted Zephyr with her energized Fleurette. The thrust delivered exhausts a concussion wave of Chaos strong enough to crush Zephyr’s barrier; however, the daring Curtis stands in the way of the attack, concentrates, and awakens his burning Cosmos in time to create a barrier of his own! “What the …” Misty Honey is stunned, as her Sexy Dynamite wave motion attack is dissipated in the blink of an eye, by a fledgling warrior’s defenses. “How is this possible!?”
The flame-handed, psychedelic gentlemen scatters the Chaos with an out-swaying of his fists! “After committing genocide *and* attempted murder, you have the NERVE to anxiously extend that query?” Joe and April rally at his side; Syd, on the other hand, defends Zephyr and the recuperating Cutie Honey. Curtis unknowingly pokes his chest out, motivated by promises and strong personal desires, and points Misty Honey out. “We heard your rant about Honey on our way here. You were the loudest person in the whole goddamned Stadium. Seriously, young lady.” Curtis takes a step forward, and extends his thoughts. “You think punishing her for having a heart is going to ‘make things right’ with you? Peep this, young lady: everyone and everything has a heart, whether it be made of flesh, metal, wires, or energy. As much as you don’t want to admit it---these strong feelings of yours … You can only feel these things if you have a heart.”
Misty Honey’s eyes widen with a mixture of shock and realization. “He’s right, you know.” April extends her womanly opinion to the graceful assassin. “Even the deepest, darkest evil comes from having a heart. Ask yourself something: are you wanting to kill your sister because she’s kindhearted, or because you’ve never been shown or given that? Did that woman, Sister Jill, make you believe this was the way to go?” Misty Honey takes a step back, holding her chest---a rush of memories and emotions resonating from a place she never thought existed. “Oh. Did I hit a soft spot?”
“Shut up … ” Misty Honey roughly sways her lifted hand to the side in denial. “Shut up! You know nothing!”
Joe scoffs at the graceful assassin’s resilience. “Humph. Then why are you so pissed off?” Misty Honey’s grip on her Fleurette tightens with annoyance, as she struggles to advance towards the fending lecturers. “Look at you---can’t even move without struggling. The Chaos is consuming you, just like your sister. Only quicker because you’ve completely submitted yourself to it.” What Joe says is true … Misty Honey loses balance, falls on her knees, and props herself on her Fleurette---fatigued and out of breath. “You’ve immersed yourself so deep in it. Not to mention, you’ve used it for an extended period of time. I … remember those from our old world who thought playing with the Chaos was ‘fun’. It was like an addictive drug: one little puff, pop, sniff, or gulp, and it’s all over. You’re no different from them.”
Misty Honey lifts her head, glares at her lecturers, and admonishes them. “I said SHUT UP!” Her passion gives way to an explosion of Chaos from her body; one powerful enough to lift her from where she kneels, and transform her into a creature consumed by the said supernatural entity! Radiating crimson eyes; a frame illuminated and empowered by Chaos; spiked, sharp ends that were once smooth and inviting. “I … am myself. No one else.” Curtis, April, and Joe brace against the empowered Misty Honey, who rears her corrupted Fleurette for battle. “Honey WILL die, as will the rest of you!”
“STOP IT, SEIRA!” A familiar roar comes from where Zephyr kneels … When they weren’t looking, the resilient Cutie Honey recovered from her exhaustion---all thanks to Zephyr’s quieted Soul Transference: the spiritual imbuing and replenishing of Soul Energy into one who has lost most of their own. The powerful battle android appears good as new, as if she weren’t tired from the very beginning. “Don’t you DARE touch them. This …” She aims her empowered Honey Fleurette at her sister, challenging her from a distance. “This is between me and you!” With one grand leap of faith, the battle android soars above her allies, and engages the empowered Misty Honey for what appears to me … the final contest. A battle to the finish … Thrust, slash, kick, evasion, parry, mix-up---technique and tactic, after fierce technique and tactic. The onlooking Zephyr calms his Cosmos, stands, and observes battle vigor unlike anything he’s ever seen. Cutie Honey … She’s fighting for so much more than peace, glory, or honor. “Seira! Open your eyes! S-e-i-r-a!”
Cutie Honey is fighting for her sister, of whom she has harbored mixed emotions for---for a very long time. A tear escapes the Keeper of Souls’ eyes, and a light sob attracts Syd’s attention. “Ms. Kisaragi …” The fending child prodigy gazes upon a young man who has felt the love of an android; a being meant to not harbor such emotions. Cutie Honey proves that even an empty shell meant only to kill can have everything---mind, body, soul, spirit, and heart. “She wants to show Seira her world. To be happy with her, but …” The dueling androids separate each other with a point-blank range exhaustion of fixed air from their brooches! Their recovery takes a moment, but both leap back into the fight, blades flying vigorously. Syd turns around, and is horrified by what he notices. Zephyr recognizes his fright. “Syd. What’s wrong?”
The child prodigy sees something that no one else does, especially the battle androids: forming ground-pools of Chaos trailing their every movement. “Those bodies … They are …” Recollection carries the child prodigy towards the dueling sisters. “Honey, Seira, watch out! It’s a trap! Get away from there!”
Curtis, April, Joe, and Zephyr immediately notice the same development, which greatly unsettles them! The three foremost rush into the assist, but they are too late … The ground-pools surge upward as deathly geysers of Chaos, injuring Honey and Seira to great lengths! Their screams light the abysmal naught. “A-a-a-a-h!!!”
The Chaos is strong … Unbelievably strong---much more potent than any seen in the past. Zephyr momentarily covers his eyes, overwhelmed by the Chaos. However, upon reopening them, he notices … absolutely nothing. Everything and everyone around him has been consumed by naught! “What the …” The Keeper of Souls searches every corner, before the Chaos gives way to the darkest light---one that reveals a monstrous creature at his rear that casts a shadow upon him. Zephyr turns around, looks up, and notices a recognizable likeness. “Is that you … Ms. Kisaragi?” Yes, it has finally happened: Insidious’s desire to create a Soulless from Cutie Honey’s Soul has been realized. However, this Soulless is not made from one, but two Souls: Kisaragi Honey … and Hazuki Seira. “Ms. Hazuki? You too!?”
(She was the only one among my ranks who did not know.) Insidious’s voice sounds from behind Zephyr, quieted to a whisper in his left ear. The Keeper of Souls freezes where he stands, as a set of arms cradles against a strong chest. Yes … Insidious, Seeker of Naught, is comforting Zephyr in the face of yet another great Soulless. (Misty Honey was a sacrifice---a pawn with a blind purpose: to see the corruption of her sister’s Soul. Unfortunately, she could not do it on her own; for, her Soul is just as strong as her sister’s. Hence, my assistance---that which looms before you.) Hearing these words pierces through Zephyr’s heart, leaking tears he’s kept bottled-up for quite some time. Insidious wipes the Keeper of Souls’ tears away with his fronted left forefinger. (There, there, my darling little star. No need for tears. This was only to be expected … As I said before: you cannot stop the inevitable. This was bound to happen. This love-hate relationship between emotion-driven shells of war … There was no way anyone could have stopped them. Not even me.)
The great Soulless lifts its right fist, and drives it towards the stationary Zephyr and Insidious! For the first time, the seeker exercises concern, by carrying the Keeper of Souls to safety with one great retreating leap … The two recover several paces away from the Soulless’ point of impact. “Did you …” Zephyr looks over his shoulder, and notices a whimsical smile upon the seeker’s chin. “Did you just save me?” Insidious releases the Keeper of Souls, takes a few steps back, turns, and accesses a corridor of Chaos to leave the battle scene. “Wait!” Zephyr’s irritated call halts the seeker where he stands. “Why … You of all people … Why did you aid me, after committing these TERRIBLE SINS!?”
(Humph … It’s coming.) A shadow looms above Zephyr, turning him to a surprising sight: the great Soulless pursues him with a hungering left hand, forcing the Keeper of Souls’ agility at the last second! With a quick recovery roll to the left, he escapes the Soulless’ crushing touch. (Even this is destiny, my darling little star.) Insidious’s voice haunts Zephyr from all corners of the Chaos. Zephyr looks to where the seeker once stood, to see absolutely no one standing there … Insidious has escaped him once again. (Fight the Soulless. Free their Souls, and take them in. Saving them---that is your duty as the Keeper of Souls, is it not?) Zephyr stands and fortifies his martial defenses against the great Soulless. Insidious’s laughter haunts him from whereabouts unknown. (Good, Zephyr. V-e-r-y good.)
The Keeper of Souls dodges a follow-up punch from the great Soulless, leaps forward, mounts the monster’s hand, and begins sprinting up its arm! “You cheeky lecher … I’m not doing this for you!” The great Soulless attempts pursuing him with intercepting sways of its free left hand and concentrated eye beams. Fortunately, Zephyr’s agility, endurance and speed keep him a step ahead of the Soulless, earning him a close-encounter with the creature’s face. “I’m doing this for Ms. Kisaragi and Ms. Hazuki---two young women you toyed with, just like everyone else!” A last-second sway of desperation nearly strikes Zephyr to the ground; fortunately, his Soul Manipulation saves him once again: the Keeper of Souls bounds high into the air from a constructed cloud of Souls at his feet! “Rise from the depths of despair, o long-lost emotions of those led astray, and become a light of retribution!” Zephyr’s chant invokes the emotions of the fallen battle androids, creating a storm of luminous jade-colored fixed-air that explodes from his unbuckling body! “Vajra S-o-u-l Flash!”
The great Soulless unleashes a heartbreaking wail of unseen agony, pain, misery, and despair. This scream … This is the cry bred from years of misunderstanding between Honey and Seira. The longing for completion. The never-ending emotional conflict that has kept them apart for so very long. The great Soulless collapses onto its hands and knees, having been overwhelmed by Zephyr’s Soul Manipulation. (Please … Save us …) A marbled, corrupted tone emerges from the great Soulless---one belonging to the unified Souls of the android sisters. (Please … Before the Chaos consumes us completely … Save us … Please …) Zephyr recovers by gliding to the pavement of naught upon a bed of Souls. He looks up into the drooped eyes of the addressing Soulless, realizing that it still possesses the hearts of the corrupted. (Thank you, for everything … We were led astray by powers beyond our understanding for so very long … You are the Keeper of Souls. You alone can save us all. However, it takes much more … So much more than expending and replenishing your Soul to stop this great evil.) Zephyr concentrates his Cosmos, as the great Soulless continues its heartfelt instruction. (Insidious will try to seduce you into submitting to Chaos. He makes it seem like the only way … Please. Do not be fooled by his kindness---he cares nothing for you, or anyone else. Only naught itself.)
“Ms. Kisaragi, Ms. Hazuki … I am well aware of that, but thank you.” The Keeper of Souls’ body radiates with wandering Arcane Energy, steadily preparing for the final blow---one of the utmost mercy. “I now understand that it will take more than what I am capable of. More than my Soul. More than my love. More than my understanding …” A blade of collected Souls extends from his unwinding right arm, as Zephyr begins a conclusive chant. “Dearly departed, longed and unforgotten, gather as a sword in my hand to free what was sealed away.” A grand leap of faith from a cluster of Souls at his feet carries the Keeper of Souls high into the air! The great Soulless attempts another series of failed pursuits, each evaded and counter-attacked by the nimble savior from Elysium … A final leap from the great Soulless’ swinging right arm sees Zephyr’s Soul-bladed right hand through the heart of the mindless creature! “Vajra Soul B-l-a-d-e!” With the call made, the blade of Souls expands a point-blank range explosion within the great Soulless’ chest, reviving its Soul, and freeing the android sisters from their spiritual prison in a burst of illuminating Chaos! “Ms. Kisaragi! Ms. Hazuki!”
The Keeper of Souls reaches for the airborne sisters with both hands; unfortunately, the Chaos’s resilience sees no end---a cluster of the said supernatural energy emerges from naught, shelling the android sisters in a thick case of dark crystal … The same crystal seen in Zephyr’s dream, when he fought alongside the third Guardian! “No!” A voice calls from the Chaos---one so shockingly familiar, it turns the Keeper of Souls to his rear. Ironically, as he turns around, the crystallized android sisters begin fading into the Chaos … Then, in a flash, a trail of shining flames emerges from the southeaster naught, creating a secondary shell around the crystallized Chaos! “Z-e-p-h!” Zephyr looks to where the voice calls from, and notices a miraculous sight: the first Guardian, Curtis, burning through the Chaos with righteous air! “This is it. The world … is ending …” The psychedelic gentleman reaches out to the Keeper of Souls, and receives an airborne hand to help cease his flight, which emotionally turns into a relieved embrace. “I … am afraid just as much as anyone else. But I promise you this: I … won’t let you go. I won’t let you experience this alone again, and … We’ll find everyone. Together.”
“Curtis …” The Keeper of Souls embraces his Guardian, and weeps. “Thank you. Thank you!”
The Guardian of Flames has remembered the promise Zephyr made to him: to help find his loved ones. This daring act cements a promise of his own: to return that kindness, by helping Zephyr weather his trials and fulfill his mission as the Keeper of Souls. The Chaos explodes and creates a furious storm of naught, which spirits them away to yet another world … What lies at the end of this road is anyone’s guess. But whatever it may be, Zephyr and Curtis will face it … together.