Friendly match-Anomaly vs. T.G. Oskar

[Anomaly]

"YOU DON'T KNOW A DAMNED THING ABOUT ME!"

His rage was blacker than ever as the angel of mutilations wraps his hand around the blade of the Blood Reaver. The blade bites in, not caring if it was his Master or his enemies flesh. Pain, enriched with eternity swells from shared wounds...as the Anomalist rips the kris blade clean through and out the other side of the Paladins body.

Materia...condensed souls...knowledge...and memories. The eyes of the Blood Drinking blade glow as it gluts on the mixture of blood...

...banishment...

...punishment...

...nothingness...

...emptiness...

...surge of pain...

...tormenting...writhing...

...torture...

...torture them...

...him...shattered as well...devour...

Anomaly hefts his blade, now drunk on the blood filling the atmosphere. The spirirt that drives him, already mad, now driven further by the metallic tang of life. Oketsu grows, forging into a column of pure spiritual energy. Reflected in it is an eternity of madness, lonliness, and pain. Reflected in the Anomalist eyes...a similiar story.

[i]...I pity the fallen...

...I want to save them...

...surely not all deserve...such a fate?

I told her...

...she betrayed me...

Twisted, shattered, not a shred identifiable...

...traitors shall be slain...

...that is the Will of God.

...God?

Pain
Sharp
Unforgiving

Dissapointment...but not damnation
Sin beyond damnation
a blessing
a curse
neither
NOTHING
VOID

"Nephilim, you are on the verge of commiting a most HEINOUS SIN! YOU CANNOT SAVE THOSE WHOM GOD HAS ALREADY CONDEMNED! YOU CANNOT QUESTION THE CREATOR! IT IS NOT YOUR RIGHT!"

Though the aura of hatred does not fade, a soft semblance of a smile comes to those wretchedly distorted lips. Every cell in his body vibrates with power. Every nerve fires on blood lust. Yet in those chaotic throes of battle, there is a calm in the center of the storm.

"You do not have that right. Nor do you have the right to question the destroyer. You have absolutely no idea whom it is you're dealing with or what it is you're saying. Nephilim, or re-incarnation of my former brethren...angels do not have souls nor do they have flesh. They are spirits made manifest...our very existance goes agaisnt God's Will. Don't you see? It is his Will that I now seek to carry through to its ultimate conclusion!"

Blade sputtering and burning, a massive slice rips through the heavens, cleaving a rift in the dimensions...an X-Zone is opened. Behind the world that we see with our eyes is the world we know in our hearts. Some hearts are filled with light, others darkness, others a mixture of the two...but others...others are filled with nothing at all. To call it limbo, X-Zone, purgatory, or nirvana would all only convey the limited human understanding of the truth. Yet now it extends in every direction...though direction no longer exists...nor time...nor life...nor death. All there is, is nothing at all.

I really could care less if you choose to move or not. I told you I would show you the absolute I have come to not only believe in, but embody. Now you see it...the ultimate truth. The angels rebelled and failed God...the humans sin continually and fail God...all of creation meant to be a reflection of the Creator now slowly falls to peices bit by bit. Don't you see how much sadness it filled him with? But sadness does not have to exist. NOTHING has to exist...it was all his will...all his will and look what has happened now? His will...is infallible ...and because of that so is his suffering. So is ALL our SUFFERING!"

The Eye of KOLOBOS raises to look at the tattered paladin. Now it is a true eye...horrid and swollen sitting in the palm of a rotted hand. Particals of nothingness, if nothingness can be said to have form, slowly condence before that eye.

"When God created man, he was a single being. He was whole. Then he was rent in twain, creating man and woman...Adam and Lilith. Thus was born the angel of mutilations along with a handful of other stewarding angels...as well as the first angels of love. So too was born a being that would have been a deity in its own right...a titan...but he could not exist. Though Kolobos would be allowed to happen everyday on the cellular level, it was soon proven that it was a horrible mistake for man. Kolobos is a concept, without a soul and incapable of sin...so it was returned to the Void. This is what happens to that which is unneccisary...that is what happens to that which is BROCKEN...RUINED...WRECKED BEYOND ALL REPAIR..."

Nothingness now masses in an ever increasing volumn. It crackles with its own strange greyish energy. It is not focused by the Eye...it is not commanded by the Anomalist...it is not controlled...it merely is. The fragments of blood not already devoured by the Blood Reaver dissolve away, leaving behind not a trace.

"There are fates better and worse than damnation. But there is a fate that is both while being neither. I despise the concept of Fate...for it is untrue and flawed...so too, however, is the concept of free will. Neither are correct for both are absolutes without being absolutely correct. The truth is that neither exist. There really is only ONE absolute...and that...is nothing. It is what was...it is what will be again. Perhaps then...the suffering will finally cease. You call my path hollow...empty? By the divine host and every demon in hell I HOPE SO!"

Already the Void begins to consume.

[T.G. Oskar]

"Nephilim? The son of a great man? What are you talking about? I am nothing more than a simple..."

As he talked, the wings manifested within him swung forth, revealing to Oskar what he had truly become. His voice effectively cut, he remained silent, as he discovered...he was no longer human. A winged being, radiant, tattered and bloodied but it's radiance still present, Oskar realized he was slowly turning into a celestial being. Yet, his intentions to save the tortured soul were ever present, and freed him from the catarsis he experimented. He saw as all of the world was falling apart into darkness. And, the words of the Anomalist etched deeply into his mind.

But...something was not right. If he was so eager to embrace nothingness, how he could say that he was going to consume everything into the Void? Since, if he was the incarnation of nothingness, he simply cannot take him into the Void. Because...nobody is there.

"Perhaps...that is what he means by his paradox. To exist, while embracing the idea of not existing at all. However...". Oskar remained there, still, while using his energy to remain stable, despite the horrid wounds. He was shaking, he was wishing that could end. But, at the same time, he wished not to leave him in such a state. He summoned all his courage to remain there. He would not leave.

"First. Damnation. Despite what you could say as damned, despite you calling yourself incapable of being forgiven, I still believe you have the chance to be redeemed. And, if...perhaps if what you say is true...I prefer to risk everything to redeem you. Nothingness, after all, won't be a bad thing if at least I know I tried. So you say nothingness will consume me all, until I cease to exist? Then, if you embrace nothingness, then perhaps you are failing to follow that hollow, empty path. You, after all, exist, right? If you could not exist, then you could not swallow me into the Void. And, if you exist, then you cannot embrace nothingness: you are drawing everything into the Void except yourself, so well...either you exist or you don't. And if you exist, and if you embraced nothingness to the point of becoming nothing, and if you are now swallowing me into the Void, while you remain in existance...then, you have just given me the chance to escape from the all-consuming Void. For, to embrace nothingness, you must have first been consumed by it. And, you then cease to exist. If you are capable of exist...then you are not nothingness. Perhaps...nothingness is just a big, endless hole where boredom reigns. Well, I assume I have to make nothingness a better place to live, eh?"

Oskar, despite his fears, was oddly calm and joking. While sure that would unnerve his opponent, it was his way to calm himself. He imagined by now his opponent angrily speaking to him, that humor would not save him from nothingness, that he would be consumed. But, he remained the same: he would not cross swords with a person whose path, to him, was "hollow and empty". His opponent, it seemed to him, would listen to no more reason: his truth is absolute. Like all other absolutes he had heard. And somehow...most have proven to be wrong. It was just a matter of time to see if the absoluteness of nothingness was truly absolute. He changed his mind, though: he would not attack, but he would move.

"It seems you care not if I move or not...well, I take your word and change my mentality. I'll move. But, I still remain firm: I will not attack you." Oskar, then, started to move, his arms still extended, moving towards the Anomalist. His bloodied face revealed a warm smile: a smile he knew would be coldly shunned. But he did not care. Arms, extended to give a warm hug. A hug his opponent would coldly and wildly refuse. But he paid no attention to such trivialities.

If he was to truly redeem him, he had to show him the love he had not often showed to anybody. The love his enemy would refuse, deeming it as "false and hypocrite". He was no longer following dictaminations, or laws: he followed his heart.

Perhaps, his heart would be consumed. Or...it would heal another heart. Or...who knows...give a new heart to the one who lost it in search for "nothingness"...

[Anomaly]

"How do you prove you exist? Maybe nothing exists and it's all just a dream. A nightmare that it is time we all wake up from."

The power of the Dark Angels Bless was beginning to fade. already the muscles were losing some of their bulk...the sharp edges of his features smoothing. The Gauntlet of Kolobos reforms into the Kalibas, sealing closed and hiding the rot and decay beneath. The Eye of Kolobos remains unchanged, however, and stares coldly at the angel, yet no emotion can be read in that dead, yet not dead thing.

"A part of me is now eternally within the Void...suffering every instance but unable to expire. A part of me moves about in Chaos, seeking to return it blessedly to the Void. Redemption? That is what I seek to give you and all of Creation...after all, doesn't forgiveness mean that you are given a clean slate? What is cleaner than the vaccum of nothingness?"

A crackling black halo appears over the angels head...a burning wheel of darkened flame. He floats unmoving...the Blood Reaver has grown strangely dorment. Nothingness gathers in close...though it registers in the mind as a kind of grey fog, rendering all things hazy, this is only a trick of a mind that cannot truly fathom emptiness...absence of color. Though the Void Dimension itself does not move, once unleashed, it begins to eat away at reality. The tear in midair grows wider...consuming vast qauntities of substance.

Beyond that haze, something again moves.

"Why is it that I continue to exist when I should've faded from existance? I was the Angel of Mutilations...and I was a small asspect of It which was not supposed to exist. Thats the funny thing about concepts...horrible, horrible concepts...the Void only seems able to hide them. Maybe I can't explain it...maybe you can't understand. Perhaps another kind of lesson is in order. Forgive me...we are in Its realm now...this is Its show."

Anomaly remains where he floats in the Void, unmoving...as a massive parasitic worm snakes out of the Void and swallows him whole in one disgusting slurp. The worm hangs there for a moment, and then retracts back where it came from. In the haziness of the spreading Void within the X-Zone portal, it moves. A peel of silence echo's forth, reverberating strangely as it enters a realm where sound is still possible.

The titan, Kolobos, spreads its hidious, blood soaked and skinless arms wide. His boney fingers stretching into the distance, raking through the dimensions and spread further open the X-Zone portal. It is barely in focus at all as it comes through the haze...but a fleshless skull looms, with single planet huge eye gleaming a mad crimson, while the other socket is occupied only with the burrowing of worms within. Its mouth is twisted into a permanent, mirthless grin of massive canine teeth. It is clear that at one time this beast was ripped down its center...but since was sewn back together with barbed black wire. Spikes, blades, nails, and other protrusions are sparsely placed over a body that is almost infinitley huge...horrid worms squirming between flesh and exposed bone. It's lower body is thankfully lost in the haze.

As it comes forward to embrace the tattered Paladin, a pair of huge, ornate rot iron wings come into view. A mockery of angel wings, thrust tortuously and mercilessly into its back. No expression is truly possible on such a face, but it seems to welcome the angel-being...and invite him to embrace oblivion.

[T.G. Oskar]

Oskar, at mere meters in order to reach Anomaly, stopped in its tracks. The person with which he was dealing had disappeared: in his stead, one of the so-called "titans" of legend had awakened. The being, a scintillating image of oddity, had replaced the former opponent that Oskar had faced. He extended his arms, as to embrace him...

...yet his embrace was not like the embracing Oskar wanted to do: a fraternal hug, a hug that could still imbue to the fallen angel the love that he could give, as a promise that he would talk to God and always ask him to reconsider. Such as Noah, such as Abraham, such as Moses. Bound by baptism to the Eternal Covenant, sealed with the blood of the Son of God. A covenant God was absolutely willing to follow. Yet, his target had disappeared, his "contractor" replacing.

Oskar, unwilling to fall into darkness, still clinging to that faith, to the human that he always thought he was, and unwilling to fall into the nothingness, remained still, at moments from the titan. To believe that thing could exist...

...could only mean that the "gods" could exist, as well. "Gods", in the sense that they could control the basic elements that shaped the universe. But, not in the sense of omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent that often defined the One and Only God. The mocking gods...those who filled the pantheons, and whose power was taken away from them at the time of the Passion. And the Titans, the first and foremost of all, the ones who hid from God in order to protect the powers they had. Such as him, who hid in the Void, in order to hide from God. His knowledge was largely uncertain about the matter, though...

Yet, even the titan himself could notice a strange thing about this angel. Often, angels are tied to God: if they lose contact with the Creator, they become powerless. Such tie was part of all Celestial Beings. If the Void was truly swallowing him, then the link to his deity was meant to be severed, his powers lingering, and he dying...

...but with Oskar, that was not the matter. Instead, he remained the same. It was as if he was not meant to exist at all: a Celestial Being, independent from the link to his Creator. And his belief was a true oxymoron: a being, free from God, yet willingly submit to His Will. In his aura, the aura that exuded from his attempts to survive, seven wings were present, and a body strikingly different from his own, were visible. It seemed, that his current state was not meant to be his current form: his aureal form was his true form. But, his ignorance of his own heritage served as a seal, a seal to prevent his power from escaping. Seven ethereal seals, each representing the symbol of one of the seven Archangels, the beings that are closest to humans besides the angels themselves, revealed in an instant, unbeckownst to Oskar. Two seals were already broken: the seals that lie in Oskar's tattered wings. Four more seals, located where the wings and tail are located, are intact: one seal, though, was starting to crack, and with little effort would be shattered as well.

His link to God blocked by the Void, his opponent swallowed and replaced, Oskar knew he was currently alone with the primeval forces of the Universe. His willpower was lingering, and yet at the same time strengthening. He had to escape from that place by his own means. Or, keep the link with God by his own means, as God would do it by His own. His resolve to not fight was still on his mind: a victory without resorting to the blade to deal the final blow would mean more than the victory by using it. He could not seem to save the Anomalist, but...

...if he could redeem the Titan, that would mean a superior victory, and his opponent, that whom he wished to turn into a friend, or at the very least a friendly rival, would return into existence.

Facing the Titan, still withholding the wounds, he spoke to him: "I do not know who you are, nor you know who I am. I only know you are the master of this 'Void', and you know I am a servant of the God you shun. Tell me more about you, and what did you do with him, the fallen angel who faced me. I shall not face you, but if you...if your wish is to dominate me by force, I may reconsider my position. I wanted to show him that I would give him a second chance, before you intervened. If you wish a second chance, I will consider your plea. If not, I shall listen to your words, and respond accordingly. But, one thing is clear..."

"...if your wish is to make me embrace your ways, I shall not agree. I prefer to live in a hopeful life, than realize a horrible "fate", a horrible "truth", is my reward. Speak out. I shall listen to you..."

[Anomaly]

Many a demon has masquaraded as a god before now. Many an angel has as well. It is, however, always a concept that takes the strongest role and the largest precentage of followers. Such concepts as 'War', 'Love', 'Death'... they exist as realities but also as concepts in the hearts and minds of man. It is this existance, in every being that gives them their strength on the astral plain. For even those who have never known 'war' may come to think about it, those who known not 'love' may dream of it, and though it is only given man to know 'death' once, it is still a specter thats haunts many an hour of contemplation.

There are things in this world it would be better for mankind to forget all together...knowledge, however, is not so easily erased once aquired. It rolls in the back of the mind, a coiled thing...slumbering, shifting...it can be a source of madness or inspiration. It can shape the ether.

As the man-angel thing speaks to Kolobos, incarnation of the first mutilation and prisoner-lord of the Void, the great beast merely tilts its head to one side. If it had ever learned speech in the brief period between its creation and its exile, it didn't seem as though it was particualry talkative. Then again, perhaps it was the simple fact that without air, sound could not exist and thus speech or even the hearing of speech was completely impossible. Even were the angel-man to speak with its soul, should it have a soul, Kolobos itself knows not soul, nor heart, nor mind. It is only a concept made manifest...a manifestation that should not exist...but perpetually exists due to its latent memory passed down in every organism that moves and lives. Only when all existance is extinguished will this tortured titan truly be able ot pass blissfully into nothingness.

Kolobos twisted maw moves in what might be considered a grin if it weren't for the fact that no flesh exists for 'lips' to be present...but the effect is the same on the unconcious level. With arms still spread, the creatures ribs begin to crack open. Bones, massive in scope, splinter and crack, before parting...the wiring that seals them closed streatching slightly to accomidate the movement. Without warning a multitude of crimson-black and a few sluggish white worms pour from the ribcage in a solid column of putrid gore. They surge from the cavity, questing with great haste and swarming up as almost a wall of writhing hungry flesh.

They decend all at once on the former Paladin, questing for a new morsel after dieting on the mutilated god-beings flesh.

[T.G. Oskar]

The horrid being, soul-less, flesh-less, material-less, gave no response. In Oskar's heart, the answers were made present. Without knowing, a small beam of light, as if it were an unbreakable thread made of light itself, was tied in his right arm. And, as he noticed, the same voice spoke, this time, to Oskar's soul, as the thread vibrated...

"So, your true self has been revealed, my son. Now you know the truth about yourself...and of the man you had faced. I have heard deep within your heart...your intentions to redeem these people... A warrior of light would never had hesitated to defeat him, but you...you decided to spare his life, in a quest for redemption. You...actually...listened..." The voice, the very same voice that requested him to face the air, the very voice that asked him to spare the life of the fallen angel.

The worms that wanted to swallow the whole of Oskar drew near, and at a faster pace each second. Oskar, closing his eyes, circled his hand, waved it towards...or what looked like towards. In an instant, a barrier of force and light, a barrier of matter. A barrier that, upon touch, granted the property of matter to whatever it touched. If it was antimatter, if it was an illusion, even if it was "nothingness"...the barrier would grant it matter and block it. Such a barrier could not be done merely by magic, or willpower...it depended upon the power that rivaled destruction, the ultimate power of Creation, that same power that defies nothingness.

Oskar, its third seal broken, it's third wing taking the form of a tail, whose wounds were stable, yet ever present, whose pain was present yet absent in his mind... He moved towards the open-armed being, the being that claimed not to exist, his tied arm extended towards it. "So you shall move towards him, yet cling to your faith? Well then...I shall see between the eyes of your heart what you want to do", the voice spoke to his soul.

Oskar drew nearer and nearer...his barrier materializing all that claims to be nothingness, his hand tied to the force that defied the Void... If the titan was the one whose existence was meant to mean mutilation, that escaped his fate to embrace the Void, that was the prisoner and the master of the Void...then the titan would literally "meet his maker"...

[Anomaly]

The first wave of worms splinter and decay away instantly upon striking that barrier. Not through the barriers power, but from the sudden destruction of Kolobos natural ambience...causing them to be subjected to the power of the Void itself which no organic creature can resist. The worms fall back in a tangled confused mass as their brethren are decimated. When no further resistance is apprent, they begin to move in a a calmer, ocilating pattern.

Kolobos itself seems to be completely oblivious as to what is going on. Either it doesn't care what is happening, or its 'mind', for a lack of a better term, is out to lunch. As Oskar tries ot move forward, Chaos is born...the equal and opposite elemnt of Chaos...it wells up on all sides, blocking Oskars path. Though transient in its existance as it is caught in the Void, it is constantly replinished by Oskars shield. As such, the angel has only succeeded in forging his own living, shifting tomb.

An advantage to be capitalized on. For corpses entombed are the rightful fodder of the devouring worm. Those self same worms retreat back into the cavernous chest cavity of Kolobos only to surge out from multiple other places in his body. They burrow through the Chaos, and now shielded by it, they begin to push and prod at the angels barrier. They latch onto the barrier, holding it in place as they search for a way to enter.

It is a fruitless effort, of course...but then the worms within the chest cavity surge forth again. This time each is entwined around the other, embraced in a swelling helix of hunger and might. An interesting arrangment...designed to sacrifice the outer worms if need be to protect the over all force. At the same time, the drilling, ocilating motion accompinied by the sheer force of Kolobos Voidal ambeince should be more than enough to peirce any barrier. If not, the sheer FORCE of the collision may be enough to break the poor creature curled inside its protective shell.

[T.G. Oskar]

As Oskar advanced towards the hulking titan, a force greater than his own was stopping him. What was such force, he could barely know: he only knew that the force was surrounding his barrier powered by Creation itself. Yet, the barrier was not hermetic: the "thread of Light" tied to his arm prevented the barrier from becoming hermetically closed.

The force that managed to detain his path was none other than Chaos, the opposite of Order. Chaos, which swelled upon the entirety of the plane itself, threatened to destroy his small manifestation of Creation. But...Oskar clinged to the very same "thread" that connected him to the source of Creation. As the drill of Chaos threatened to destroy him, he eventually devised a plan that might propel his escape.

Oskar turned his back, his body turned no longer towards the titan, but towards the thread. He saw a shame not to be capable or redeeming said soul, but somehow...he felt no soul, nor something to cling upon. He should have known...he behaved like a zombie, incapable of racional thought. Perhaps...he was fooled. He was trapped. But, he could still escape. In the very moment the drill of Chaos pierced the barrier, it would be briefly in contact with the power of Creation. He would simply counteract with the only power capable of counteracting the blow.

Order.

When the Drill of Chaos entered the space, it would be submitted in a brief while to the power of Creation, and especially, to the laws of Physics. Thus, while an overwhelming force, if he could only generate a wall, or merely a plaque upon which a counterforce would act, he could use it to propel himself. If he could use said force to propel himself out, especially towards where the thread appeared...he could escape. The only thing he needed to do was...oscillate.

Without a doubt, Oskar started spinning the thread of light, moving his arm quicker and quicker. His stable arm swelled, and his wounds were about to open, but he made what he intended. Using the same power he used to protect himself from the worms, he made a large tunnel, which eventually turned into a solid wall, due to the effects of Chaos. But...at the very end of the tunnel...

There was...light...

Then, he closed his eyes, poised himself as a spear. His wings retracted, his body as slender as he could, and his arm spinning with all the speed he could, he focused upon one single principle.

The Third Law of Newton...

"Every force produces a force of equal magnitude, but in opposite directions", so it says. If he could, for a moment, focus on producing a small space within his area of Creation capable of resisting said force, for an instant, blocking the drilling motion of the worms...

...then Chaos would resume its function, the force would disappear, and he would be propelled away with the same force the titan used to destroy his force. Yet...his mass would produce a greater acceleration, thus barely escaping. His produced speed would normally kill a person, but that risk was one to be taken. Worse would be to die in a dimension not his own...

The drill smashed the barrier, for a millisecond threatening Oskar's very existence. But, in that same millisecond, in Oskar's feet, a small plaque, made of light itself, blocked the drill. The light soon faded, but when the drill had passed, and the barrier had completely disappeared...

...Oskar...was no longer there. Instead, Oskar was accelerating away, away to freedom, to escape from the "Void". The thread of Light, the thin thread made of Oskar's faith, had "created" a hole towards the way his Creator lied.

Behind Oskar, the deadly drill was still advancing. The worms squished because of the tunnel collapsing, yet the force driving them was breaking through the collapsing tunnels of the Chaos surrounding the area of Creation. The speed was ever increasing, threatening to rip him apart. The very same willpower that held him whole was holding him apart.

And, as Oskar's arm was stopping, and the tunnel beneath him started to collapse, Oskar muttered one single prayer. "Thy will be done..."

As he was swallowed by the Void...Oskar had escaped from it. Almost by instinct, when he could feel air surrounding him, he dived down, and used energy to stabilize in the air. Finally...he was out. But...the willpower he had exerted had taken his toll.

The Drill of Chaos briefly manifested upon the face of the Earth, as the worms were dropped right in midair, the rift to the Void closed. And, soon thereafter, the cry of an individual, writhing in pain, because of his wounds opening, releasing a torrent of red and golden blood in the air.

And, in the very same epicenter, was Oskar, trembling, in blood, torn and shred. He had not yet won the war...but the battle he faced had changed him. He stood there...in pain, knowing his opponent was still near...

[Anomaly]

In a cacoon of blackened feathers, the Anomalist reposed. It could nto be called sleep, for the torment and stench of the carcass he occupied would never allow such the exist. However, it was a place where he could easily enough reflect if he ignored the steady gnaw of pain. It was almost blissful.

So...he escaped. That's a rarity. You must feel so disappointed.

A crimson pulse fills the inside of Kolobos skull as a pulse of regenerating worms crawls through the squalid decay.

Me? No...it was very interesting to see one of my former kind. Or perhaps one of a new kind all together. Besides...I am satisfied. It's rare to meet one who would rather discuss philosophy than attempt to take my head. Yes...I would say I even enjoyed myself, except for how depressing it all turned out to be in the end...

There is another crimson pulse...but there is no reply as Anomaly curls deeper in on himself, as though to derive an illusion of warmth from the cold cadavers flesh in which he is encased. Kolobos continues to float through nothingness...it too, curled like the former angel that dwells inside. Is this victory? What a horrible thing it is...

[T.G. Oskar]

"He...left?" Oskar, in mid air, severely wounded, was astonished, so much his pain was slowly lingering away. His opponent's aura had disappeared, as if he had left away. Oskar reached his horse, his white horse, as he used again his willpower to remain alive. His enemy away, the battle was finally over. And, seemingly, at a stalemate. Or was it?...

Nearing his horse, the beast reacted frightened to the new individual before him. The mount was frightened, due to the intensity of the battle. Noticing its fear, Oskar whispered to the mount in a soft voice. "Now, now...do not worry, I shall not harm you. I only need what's in the bag, OK?" After that, he reached for the bottle of Elixir, the medicine he requested. He was sure to need of it, since the way to the base was long and far away. He gulped the potion, which instantly healed all of the wounds, and relieved him of all the pain. He needed no more to endure the physical wounds of the battle. Yet, while he was completely wounded, two scars were left by the skirmish. One was the physical scar left by the worst of all wounds, which laid in his entire torso, from the left part of the chest all the way down, diagonally, and apparently formed by two slices from the wings of the fallen angel. But, the other scar...that was emotional.

His emotional scar was his experience...the incredible power he had resisted, a battle who had forced him to use his skills in ways he could not imagine, resisting wounds that would have killed normal people...but more than that, the emotional scar of realizing he was no more a mere...human. The battle had left his pride mortally wounded, yet with a hunger to know. To know about his heritage, about the form he had manifested, about the limits of the power of light he brandished, about the magicks and powers he had faced...hunger to know why he was incapable to face his enemy as he should. He would require more practice, and more knowledge. He had gone away, but the Anomalist would face him again. Perhaps, the "fated battle" both despise, or another "casual encounter".

With some concentration, Oskar willed himself to look human again. His wings had disappeared, his body now looked more human. His eyes though, remained pupilless, as a reminder of the experience. He looked for his glasses, which had fallen when he first transformed. He found them, almost intact, nearby. His eyes were now looking much better, but his human side still had some eye problems, so he put them on again. He mounted on the horse, galloping away towards the headquarters of the club...

Knowing one day, he would face this very same man again, and this time there would be no turning back. He was sad not to tell him how glad he was because he spared him, but he also felt ashamed. He minded not...knowing that a warrior sparing him at his weakest was a recognition of his warrior standing. More than a battle, it was a harsh lesson. And Oskar had already received his grade.