Waste of Time - Akira vs. Paradoxical Prophet

[Anomaly]

Akira steps through the dark portal...and into a desert of swirling sand and scorching sun. There is a feeling of displacement, as though the world itself cannot decide what is going to happen next. The wave of vertigo passes, and the eye of the beholder takes in the scene. At first it seems there is no land mark to allow this wayward warrior of darkness to find his bearings save the spires of the Masters impenetrable Keep to the south. Yet what at first appears to be a great desert wasteland, given order only by the whim of the savage winds, takes the shape of a garden.

Paths are marked by sand that flows, inexorably in a single direction, allowing a person to travel along the path while remaining absolutely still. Akira stands on one such of these paths, and as the sands slide along beneath his feet, he is carried past several odd statues. All made of glass, each seems to be patterned after a plant or animal. Some of the sculptures are massive, arching into the sky, others are so small that they appear as slightly more brilliant grains of sand. Some are in the shape of men, others beast, and still others things no mortal eye was ever meant to gaze upon. Yet all seem to have a single thing in common...within each there pulses an eye watering amber yellow light. It pulses, much like a heart, once every handful of seconds, as if marking a moment in time before moving onto the next.

Some of these glass statues shatter into sand as the yellow pulsing ceases, crumbling to sand that is swiftly swept away by a hot blast of wind. Others soon take their place, shaping themselves from the sand in a beautiful cascade that ends with them frozen on this pathway of time. Suddenly, a figure rises from the directly in front of Akira. It is hard to tell if this is another glass sculpture, or a living creature as sand falls from all around the man-shaped thing before him.

Ordained in the sands of time is this meeting. I grow impatient. Let us begin before this moment is also lost to the flow.

The words arrive directly in Akira's mind, not due to any telepathy, but because he has already heard them. Has perhaps heard them all his life. Time has been bent so that Akira's struggles to reach this point in the northern sector of the Floating Fortress would be lent haste. The words of challenge have already been spoken. Now there is time only for action, here in the garden of Dargath, Prophet of The Masters and Pillar of Time. The Glass Menagerie bares witness to the prophecy's fulfillment.

[Akira]

It took Akira a moment to realise what was going on, literally feeling as time was manipulated and warped to the bidding of the being standing before him. Though quickly he realised the state of the situation...

Ah yes, that's it...I've come to destroy this one. Lord Mor awaits a fitting slaughter.

He tightly gripped the handle of his mighty katana. He turned his body sidewards and placed his left foot in front of the other. His neutral glare turned into a blaze of hatred, the fires of his soul enough to eat away the remneants of any normal opponent, however, this was no ordinary warrior.

Akira's deep mysterious voice echoed through the air mightily as he responded to the one standing before him:

"So you say you have foreseen this battle in the sands of time! Then tell me, how come do you show your face before me? Would you not have also foreseen your defeat?!"

Despite the remark's taunting nature, Akira was nevertheless seriously focused on his opponent. Millions of warriors had stood before the mighty Prince in days long past, but none had survived the grip of darkness that tightened its hold on their throats as they took their last helpless gasps of air. Yet with all these victories, the day that an exception would cross his path was inevitable. Whether this was that exception, he had yet to find out.

Upon his arrival in this foreign environment, Akira had made sure to note his surroundings in their complete entirety. If he was to defeat this warrior, he knew he couldn't rely merely on his berserker brute. A hint of tactic and pre-planned strategy would be the key to placing the fatal noose around his enemy's neck, at which point he could end the fight at will. Though the conditions were not yet right, he would wait his chance and in the mean time, get to know his anti better.

Eyeing his opponent's facade meticulously, a sadistic grin crossed Akira's face. His mind was already in the fight, prematurely imagining the feel of droplets of blood dampening his face as limbs and organs danced and splattered every which way. This would be a good day. Indeed, it would be one of the best...

[Zephyr]

The figure standing before Akira threw off the black cloak it had been wearing. Underneath, the seemingly young man of 20 or so years wore plain garb. A loose white cotton keikogi covered his torso, and a black hakama enshrouded his legs. Bare feet rested on the sand beneath him. About his waist, he wore but a simple silken cord, from which hung three sheaths. The longest sat on his right hip, and was gracefully curved. The other two were much smaller, fashioned to hold daggers. These sat on either side on his waist, just tucked around the back. The young man fixed Akira with a stare, his grey eyes gazing out from an impassive face.

Prophet, the Pillar of Time, smiled briefly. "You are at least partially correct. I _have_ seen my death, and sadly for you, it was not at your hands," he spoke softly. "And even if it were, I would still be standing here before you. Death is not something someone as old as I am should fear, but instead welcome - like an old friend."

"But I digress," he continued, rolling his neck from side to side. "You have come to fight, not to exchange words with a tired old man. Before we start, I want you to know that I bear you no personal emnity. That you happen to want to destroy the organization I belong to is unfortunate, so I shall offer you a choice; leave this fight alive and quit this pointless quarrel, or end your life in this bitter conflict. The choice is entirely yours."

Prophet sighed inwardly. He knew what his opponent would choose, but he was still compelled to give him the chance to leave alive. He placed his left hand on the black-hilted katana at his right hip, ready to draw it at a moments notice. His right hand hung motionless at his side, tensed into an almost claw-like shape. The air around the hand crackled briefly, as if a large amount of energy was barely contained within it, ready to burst forth in an instant.

The air was tense with anticpation as the two stood, just poised on the very brink of madness, each waiting for the other to make a move.

(OOC: In case I never actually stated it anywhere, Prophet is actually left-handed.)

[Akira]

(((OOC: I have asked for Paradoxical Prophet’s opinion on controlling his character for minor aesthetics in this post and received his permission to do so. They have been reviewed and approved by him.)))

"...so I shall offer you a choice; leave this fight alive and quit this pointless quarrel, or end your life in this bitter conflict. The choice is entirely yours."

Akira had been offered an ultimatum: either continue the fight as planned and possibly fall in battle or surrender now and live to see another day. He considered the option tediously and then looked at the warrior in front of him.

"You offer me this choice, despite my warmongering?! Indeed, you show great virtue and mercy in letting me leave unscathed. I accept your kind offer and shall lay down my weapons."

Akira removed the sword scabbard from his belt and laid it on the ground, kicking it towards Prophet, the so-called Pillar of Time. He placed his empty hands before the warrior as to show no signs of further aggression. Slumping down to the ground lifelessly, he knelt and bowed before the Pillar, acknowledging his surrender. It seemed he was sick of war and wanted it to end once and for all...

Akira stood up and turned his back towards Prophet. He stepped onto one of the many sand paths that would slowly but surely move him towards the exit and spit him out into the hordes of doom that would be waiting and ready to feast on his traitorous cadaver. Of course he would play no more part in this war, but he would be punished nonetheless for his cowardice.

Meanwhile, as the Prince was moving along the path, Prophet picked up the scabbard laid before him. He studied the blade methodically as he thought to himself.

So this is the legendary Jin's Revenge? I have heard much about it in my time, and it is truly a weapon worthy of the great songs. But with the recent turn of events, it seems I will not be defending myself against it’s mighty cuts.

Suddenly, Akira began to break out in silent chuckling. However, it quickly morphed into a sadistic, psychotic laughter. Prophet looked up in surprise at the Prince, as a ringing voice suddenly penetrated his mind.

Muahahahahahahaha, you would not honestly think the Prince of the North would lay down his weapon before a weakling like you...you show great credulousness in your assumption that the mighty Akira would surrender to a pathetic cur!!!

Immediately, Prophet looked at the blade that had been offered to him as it crumbled away in his hand to mere ash. The illusionary sword had been manifested by the dark powers of the Prince as a dummy prop. Akira continued laughing uncontrollably as the true Jin's Revenge slowly materialized in midair in front of him. He grabbed it with might and placed it between his sash as he looked at Prophet once more.

"Had you taken up the real Jin's Revenge, your soul would now have been feasted upon by the demon of the sword. No one but me can wield it...NO ONE!!!"

The Prince was not priding himself on false statements. Had the sword been received by the wrong person, they would have been instantly damned for all eternity. And strangely enough, Akira had not chosen the sword...the sword had chosen him. However, such a victory, although amusing, would deem not as exciting as cleaving the limbs of his opponent personally. He did want to have some fun after all.

Akira unsheathed Jin’s Revenge slowly and gripped it tightly between both hands. A dark aura overcame the Prince as he was surrounded by a shroud of purple energy. His muscles seemed to tense as his blood began rushing; the preparation for the battle was in full swing. All the while, waves of darkness overwhelmed him with power, sending shrills of blackness down his spine. Adrenaline coursed his veins like battery acid as he felt a stinging pain with each pumping of blood. His skin was on the edge of ripping under the insane pressure of his muscles flexing wildly.

Akira glanced at his opponent during a moment of silence. Not a single sound was present, not even that of a gentle breeze. A nearby glass leaf was host to a small droplet of condensed water that kissed the tip of the plant that it was on. As the droplet severed its tie to the plant, it plummeted to the ground and splattered on the sand, inexorably breaking the painful silence.

Akira drove his blade into the sand and dashed towards Prophet. His approach was inhuman gaining evermore speed with each stride that he took. As if he had manipulated time itself, Akira stood before the Pillar of Time. With a mighty war-grunt, he swiveled his upper body to the right. The blade jolted out of the sand and came up at Prophet’s face with lightning speed.

[Zephyr]

For just an instant, Prophet looked surprised. He had been ready for an assault, but his opponent's apparent submission had caused him to lower his guard ever so slightly. Acting more out of instinct than anything, he clenched his left hand around his katana's hilt, and drew the blade forth. As he did so, the air around him came alive with power. Unseen, it could only be felt as a slight thickening of the air, an invisible tension that threatens to crush the unprepared. Akira's rapid approach slowed to a crawl as the temporal power contained within the blade warped the fabric of time around itself. And then, just as suddenly as it had arrived, the feeling passed, and time snapped back to normal. There was a great shower of sparks as Funsei-Keika intercepted Jin's Revenge, pushing the larger blade to the side as Prophet stepped out of Akira's path.

"And here I was, thinking you were an honourable sort. Such a trick makes you nothing more than a foolish bounder," Prophet sighed. "I had hoped this could be ended without needless death. You have made the choice, however, and it would be unseemly of me to deny you the death you seem to want so much."

With a small flourish, Prophet sheathed his katana, and drew the two smaller blades at his waist. Isa, the dagger of ice, he held in his left hand. Small clouds of white condensation followed it as the blade wove through the air, and the blade itself seemed forged of icy steel. Fehu, the dagger of fire, was in his right hand. The ruby at its guard flickered with an inner light, and the length of the blade blazed with flame. 'For the honour and memory of the fallen,' Prophet thought to himself as he flipped Fehu so the point was facing down.

Moving with great celerity, Prophet closed with Akira, and brought Isa around in a frontal slash. However the attack was just to draw Akira's attention away from his other hand, which was now surrounded with a great flame. Even as he swung Isa, he brought his right hand in low, and released the flaming ball in the direction of Akira's chest.

-------
(OOC: The whole time-bending thing in the first post is just flavour. Nothing actually happens, it's just the power of the sword coming into balance with the flow of time around it.)

[Akira]

Akira bent backwards instinctively as he saw the swiping Isa slash by his face in slow motion. Though he was no lord of time manipulation, he possessed super human reflexes nonetheless. But despite his foresight, his enemy had been one move ahead of him...

His eye focused on the glowing ball of energy released from Prophet's hand as it hurtled slowly towards his body, the searing heat closing in evermore with each passing second. His eyes shot open as the fire mass connected with his still backwardly hunched body, shooting up small clouds of smoke as they attempted to burn their way through the sturdy samurai armor. However, Akira's eyes quickly returned to a state of normalcy as he straightened his body once more and glared mockingly into the astonished grimace of his opponent.

"Tch...You shall need to tap into considerably stronger magic sources if you wish to defeat me. The use of such petty magic tricks is actually insulting, not to mention futile. I will show you true power."

Akira released his grip on the katana and held the sword with his right hand to his side. Bringing his left hand forward, he clenched his fingers together into a fist and pounded upon his chest like a raving ape. A blanket of darkness began to flow from beneath his feet, slowly devouring the surroundings in all directions. It resembling a puddle of filth that gained in size with each inch it conquered. The mass of blackness crawled along the ground and pulled itself upon everything it came across. All sources of light began to fade to the darkness as the black anomaly systematically encased the two warriors in despair and hopelessness. A sinister and psychotic chuckle resonated through the air as the last hole of light disappeared, though the source was barely even visible.

All that preserved the two from complete darkness was the glowing crimson eyes of the Dark Prince and the two shimmering outlines of Isa and Fehu. The tense blackness was suddenly broken by a violet beam that cut through the dark abyss and lit up Akira's face. Jin's Revenge was surrounded by a shroud of dark energy and seemed to be gaining in intensity as it sucked power from the surrounding murkiness, fed by the evil and hatred consuming the once peaceful glass garden.

The piercing eyes that gave away the position of Akira's face fell into obscurity and disappeared in the never-ending blackness. Two flaming circles of raging fire suddenly emerged in the place of the formerly domestic eyes, raping the surrounding nothingness with sheer brilliance.

The purple glowing silhouette of the dark samurai stood silently erect many moments before commencing the battle. With poignant grace, his body jolted towards Prophet's body, however, running past instead of striking his foe. Again and again, his body flashed by with lightning speed. Of course this would not be any match for a warrior able to manipulate time. Nonetheless, the confusion of multiple movements whizzing by would surely help to confuse even the Pillar of Time.

Suddenly, the bitter silence consuming the room was broken by raging war drums, foot marching, and sword clashing. The deplorable laugh of a maniac shrieked and echoed all around...the amalgamation of noises would help to further disorient Master. Mostly, this was just the effects of Akira's psychic spells which would hopefully help to create an opportunity to strike the helpless Master.

The swift lightning movements of Akira's body speeding all around suddenly stopped as Prophet found himself in the unfortunate predicament of having a razor sharp, blood-thirsty Jin's Revenge plummeting towards his neck from behind.

(((OOC: The nullifying of the fire-ball attack is attributed to Akira's near immunity to fire elemental attacks as well as the attack's comparably weak nature.)))

[Zephyr]

'He's faster than I thought. But not quite fast enough.' Prophet thought to himself as Akira dodged Isa's frontal attack, but fell victim to the flaming blast. However, his grim satisfaction at landing the blow soon faded as it became apparent that Akira was somehow protected from the flames. 'Not only does it not hurt him, but he feels the need to mock me as well. Talk about adding insult to injury', he mused.

"Tap into a stronger source of magic?" he responded, "And have this fight over before it gets inter-". Cut short by Akira's sudden conjuring of a darkness that quickly began enveloping the garden, Prophet grinned. "Forget what I was about to say. This just got interesting."

As the darkness swallowed him, Prophet returned his daggers to their sheaths. Exhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and placed his left hand on the hilt of his katana. He had just started to empty his mind when the drums began to pound. A look of anguish crossed his face, as long-buried memories flashed across his mind. The drums grew louder as Dargarth, barely a man, laid his friend to rest. Anger blazed through him at the sound, and taking up his fallen comrade's dagger, he ran towards the booming. The last remnants of the army that had destroyed his village marched towards him...

Prophet shook his head violently to dispel the vision. Having regained his composure, he tried once more to focus. For just a moment, a calm look passed over his face. With a fluid movement, Prophet drew his katana from it's sheath, spun around, and swung. There was a sound of steel clashing on steel, and momentary sparks flew through the darkness.

'Too slow, you idiot,' Prophet mentally cursed himself as he felt a hot line of pain across one of his cheeks. Stepping back quickly, Prophet removed himself from Akira's reach. "A good tactic," he said wryly. "Unfortunate that here, in this garden, we are surrounded by the very essence of time itself. I can sense the ripples you make in it as you move." 'Although,' he added mentally, 'it's not like I can keep it up for long. I just hope he doesn't realise that.'

To prove his point, Prophet brought his sword around in a tight arc, while he simultaneously channelled time magic into it. A thin curve of blue light exploded from the tip as the sword whistled through the air. The leading edge of the curve - which is actually a small ripple in space-time - was infinitesimally thin, giving it the ability to cut through even the hardest alloys. This thin blade of time sped forth, aimed at where Prophet sensed Akira to be.

(OOC: I strongly recommend dodging that. It cuts through things better than a light-saber)

[Akira]

(((OOC: Once again, I have asked for Prophet’s consent in controlling his character for minor actions in my post to help with flow and overall dramatics. Also, if anybody notices that I have edited my other posts, it is only because I wanted to remove the signature from them as to not draw away from the battle. The content of the posts has not been altered and can be attested by a moderator if needed.)))

The thick black mass that enveloped the tranquil scenery was parted by the speeding cut of the light beam as it hurdled towards a dark figure dashing around in the black unknown. As it approached the spot where Prophet sensed Akira's body to be, the face of the startled samurai was lit up revealing the sheer surprise in his visage as the time magic cut its way into his upper abdomen. Within milliseconds, the beam had passed through the body, leaving the Dark Prince gasping for air as blood began to trickle down his stomach, onto his legs, and then upon the ground where it formed a thick puddle of red liquid at the base of his body.

He could utter no word as he struggled to heave and pant in hopes of capturing some morsel of air within his slashed and mutilated lungs. The glow he suddenly gave off contrasted his body with the blackness behind him, making his body completely visible to Prophet despite the ambiguity of the void. Akira grabbed his belly as his upper body started to sway back and forth. His attempt to hold himself up, however, proved useless. He stared into the satisfied eyes of the Masters' warrior as the top portion of his body, which had been severed in two pieces right below the pectorals, plummeted to the ground leaving the bottom half still standing. Blood continued to gush like a fountain from the two body sections, splattering and spurting the vital red liquid in all directions. And so the legacy of the mighty Prince had come to an unsightly end, leaving nothing but the memory of his slaughtered halves behind as his epic....

"....Bwahahaha...."

The sudden and unexpected echo of a sinister laugh rang throughout the surroundings.

"....Bwahahahahahahaha...."

The cackle intensified. Prophet was taken by surprise as the eerie sound bellowed on, hardly alleviated by the seemingly effortless victory he had just achieved against the Prince of the North.

"....Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahaha................ ..................."

The sudden silence that cut off the laughter was even more unbearable than the sadistic sound itself. The tension was thick in the air; whatever sound or action followed next would cut it like an unpleasant stab into the heart of a newborn baby, sending shrieks of distasteful astonishment down the spine of the surprised Pillar of Time.

Though the cachinnation had subsided, the sonance it gave off continued to ring painfully in Prophet's ear. It was suddenly replaced by the silent yet sinister vocalization of the Dark Lord of the Brotherhood that lay in two halves on the ground. Awkwardly, the source was not the corpse of the Prince.

"Observe the one that you have just slain..."

Prophet looked in disbelief at the body as it was swallowed by the blackness and disappeared from sight.

"Worry not Prophet, for I am not so easily destroyed", uttered the voice.

What had seemed like Akira's body had in fact been nothing but a mere image materialized by the Prince's dark powers. It was all part of the big play he was unfolding before the god’s of war, a tribute to the marvel and wonder of battle and the majesty of death therein. The prologue had been granted, first act already played, and the build-up already started. All that was left was an epic climax and an even more glorious end.

“I am the real figure you seek!” yelled the Prince as he launched three volleys of arrows from his mighty bow at Prophet’s body simultaneously. He followed up with a majestic sprint towards the time mage, ready to strike with his mighty sword whether the arrows hit or not.

[Zephyr]

Momentarialy taken aback by this sudden turn of events, Prophet could only stand staring at the arrows arcing towards him. He snaped back to reality as the realisation that he had, in fact, not just defeated his enemy dawned upon him. A wry grin crossed his face as he realised he had just squandered the small amount of time in which he could had dodged the arrows. 'No time to dodge,' he thought, 'So we do this the hard way...' The arrows were a mere instant from impaling him, when he stepped sideways - in 4 dimensions.

Everything was still. The arrows hung in mid-flight, Akira was frozen mid-stride. Even the sand had ceased its contant flow. Time, it seemed, had stopped. Of course, such a thing is impossible, even for time mages more powerful than Prophet - he had merely stepped outside of the flow. Much like standing on the bank of a river, Prophet was now a mere spectator to an instant. Walking briskly, Prophet removed himself from the trajectory of the arrows. As he spied Akira frozen in a furious charge, a sly smile crept across his face. He waved his hand at the arrows, muttering an incantation under his breath. A blue glow enveloped them, ensuring that they would remain frozen even as time returned to normal. Prophet placed himself a good distance behind Akira, and allowed himself to slip back into Time. To his opponent's eyes, it seemed like he had just vanished.

"Looking for someone?" He queried Akira as the beserker slid to a stop at the location Prophet had just been standing. "It seems I have misjudged you. I apologise for thinking that I would be able to defeat you without going all out, but I see that I was mistaken. I just wasn't taking you seriously enough." He sighed. "I hate to be cliche about this, but it's time the kiddie gloves came off."

Having returned his sword once more to its home at his waist, Prophet raised one hand skyward. Focusing intently, he barked a short harsh syllable. At first, it seemed nothing had happened, but then it was there - a tension, a thickening of the air. Shimmering, multi-hued sparks filled the air around Prophet's hand, following it as he brought it down to point at his foe. Raw magical potential filled his body, straining to be released. With great force of will, Prophet brought the surging power under control and grinned at Akira, his normally gray eyes now flecked with gold. "It's been a while since I've felt like this. Just the feeling of all that power, sitting there, waiting to be shaped into something amazing - it's really something. But don't worry, I'm in a sharing sort of mood."

With a flick of his wrist, Prophet dispelled the spell holding the arrows in place, sending all three volleys speeding towards their original destination - speeding right at Akira. Even as he did that, Prophet brought around his other hand, a crackling ball of lightning forming as it moved. When it reached Prophet's front, he snapped it forward, and the ball turned into a massive arc of electricity that shot forward, seeking to earth itself in Akira's chest.

[Zephyr]

(OOC: I feel the need to clarify things. Apparently, my last post was "incoherent". Sorry for the double post btw. No editing, after all.

- But a spectator of a moment in time cannot manipulate nor alter anything.

Except that I'm a chronomancer. I'm doing to the arrows the same thing I did to myself - removing them from the flow of time. Think of it this way - I wouldn't be able to push you over, cut something in half, or even move something to a different location. But magic does not reside in the physical realm - time magic especially so. All I did was construct a 'bubble' of null time around the arrows. A feat which is a lot easier when one is not within the time-stream at the time.

-Why would Akira necassarily have to slide all the way towards the area where your character just stood?

Well, he was heading to where I was standing with quite a velocity. I just assumed that he would have tried to stop himself when I 'vanished', meaning his inertia would have carried him to the spot. Sorry if trying to apply the laws of real physics to this has managed to confuse people.

- I just checked your ABB, and you don't have a "gold-flecked eyes" transformation! What gives?

It's not a transformation. I'm just storing the magical potential, as opposed to using it right away. If you play MtG, you could say I've just tapped *all* my lands - except I don't get Mana burnt, and the mana doesn't magically vanish at the end of my turn.

END OOC)

[Akira]

(((OOC: Once again, I have consulted with Prophet about his character’s actions in my post and he was completely satisfied with what I produced. I wish to again stress, it is nothing that affects the actual outcome of the battle. I wish to also hereby express my gratitude towards my opponent for helping me with the Japanese text within my post. Without his assistance, it would have stayed an incoherent piece of mumbo jumbo. )))

----

Akira immediately swiveled around, to find to his own dismay, his enemy standing behind him rather than in the way of his bloodthirsty sword.

“…But don't worry, I'm in a sharing sort of mood.”

As Prophet flicked his wrist, Akira saw the arrows change from their lifeless floating state to the one he had released them in. The whistling sound the projectiles made was unbearable as they screamed towards their victim, who had but a mere moment’s notice to react. Rather than trying to dodge the sting of the flying beasts, Akira held his sword outward as his lips quickly moved, silently murmuring something.

And as the moment had come, it had already dispersed. With three crunching sounds, the arrows blasted through Akira’s armor and ripped into his body like ravaging piranhas. Putrid blood squirted onto the ground while the sound of muscle and skin tissue ripping echoed through the air. The Samurai was dazed to the ground, falling onto his knees while he softly fingered the blood trickling from his wounds down his infiltrated armor.

Nevertheless, he was given no moment’s pause, as the power of 8 million volts suddenly surged through his entire body. The energy shot into each muscle, every inch of the tissue tensing and contracting vigorously making Akira’s body move uncontrollably against his own will. His jaw clamped together tightly as pieces of tooth enamel began to chip and break away to the clenching of the jaw muscles. Blood and vomit began to drip out the corners of his mouth followed by a steady flow of the bodily fluids.

Eventually, the energy attack released its horrific grip on the dark Prince. His eyes were empty and cold as his head slumped down, leaving his body knelt on the ground in a lifeless demeanor. Once the bodily twitching caused by the nervous system had subsided, the only movements coming from the samurai’s body were the small swirls of smoke rising from the charred body. This time it had been no mere illusion, for Prophet had truly stricken down the Prince of the North.

Once again, a menacing silence fell over the battlefield. The glow around Akira’s body slowly died down until it had been completely dispatched. But something simply didn’t feel right; an evil presence continued to linger on in this vile and wicked place…
A small shake swept over the ground and quickly disappeared again. It was followed by another one, however, slightly stronger than the first. And yet another, and another, each with evermore increasing vehemence. The ground was ravished and wrought by the ensuing seismic waves of sheer earthly destruction, crippling and cracking the blackened surface with ease under the awesome pressure. Everything was shaken by the mighty brunt earthquakes, trashing and beating the only two bodies there around like rag dolls. Searing fires and flames squealed their hot spirits though the openings in the ground as wretched dark wraiths and demons sizzled into the air. The dark fiends glided and danced sinisterly on the invisible waves of air all around, circling like mad hungry vultures around the two warriors, however, setting their sights solely on Akira.

Like greedy rats, they ripped themselves upon the lifeless dark lord, feeding on his soul and last morsels of remaining energy, each merging with the helpless silhouette of the fallen warrior until the essence of blackness blanketed every last inch. Akira seemed to have disappeared, though his body was still very much at the same spot it had been when the arrows and lightning had so mercilessly stricken him down. The blackness that had pulled itself upon him, however, camouflaged him completely in the blackness and made him blend in with his surroundings. Prophet peered questionably into the darkness, searching vainly for any remnant of light in the despair of the abyss. Yet, his plead for reassurance remained coldly unanswered. He looked on into the nothingness where Akira had been prior, hoping for something – anything!

Summoned by the darkest forces of doom and damnation, the most gut-wrenching red glow appeared out of the blackness; two red portals leading straight to the halls of hell itself. The baleful gaze of this unseen force was enough to send most men straight into the welcoming arms of madness, and even the bravest of warriors would have no choice but to shutter in sheer fright at the coldness and destruction these eyes exuded. But the true entity behind the glare’s fear instilling mien was the mystery…the mystery that shrouded them…the mystery that fed the fiery hate behind the source…the mystery of where this being had come from and what had summoned it. Without even granting enough time to ponder its arrival, the eyes disappeared, again leaving Prophet as an offering to the dark environment.

Prophet was like a blind child in the painful grasp of the blackness, nothing granting him even a mere tidbit of security. He was lost and in despair, in a place where even time did not rule nor dictate…he had entered the realm of the archaic beast!

A whoosh to the right of Prophet made him jump in the direction the sound had come. Another sudden object whizzing by came from behind him, again drawing his attention to its source. An eerie gust brushed by his left arm, leaving behind a feeling of coldness – of death. Prophet began to pant irregularly, unable to ascertain the origin of this malignant evil.

There, within the futile nihility, the icy chill that crept down Prophet’s spine was unbearable. But not as unbearable…as the slowly exhaling breath of the unknown source as it heaved upon Prophet’s neck directly behind him!

He was helpless and at danger in this deleterious environment – that was, until he finally gathered himself.

Prophet took a deep breath, and tightly gripped his benevolent weapon. He was ready to face this evil once and for all.

“Show yourself bastard beast of the deep!”

The pelting presence ceased to move around in the darkness as suddenly as the last syllable had left Prophet’s lips. A deep and abysmal dark laughter of inhuman proportion, a billion-fold more malevolent than Akira’s sadistic laugh prior, violently bellowed through the dark chasm as Prophet anxiously waited for an answer to his challenge. Akira’s image shot through Prophet’s mind, detailing the moment shortly before Akira had been struck by his own arrow fire. Akira’s pulsing lips as they uttered something became more and more impregnated in Prophet’s mind.

“Haraguroi Tenno, reikon wo hakaishin, yami ni sumushin, omae wo yobidasu. Shutsugenshiyo! Jin-sama!”
“Dark Lord, Destroyer of Souls, you who dwells in the darkness, I summon you. Come forth, Jin!”

The image’s entity pounded vividly, raping the importance of the moment forcefully into Prophet’s mind.

The laughter was abruptly cut off as Akira’s still kneeling black body was dimly illuminated by an untraceable light source. The blackness still enshrouding the body made the identification of any contour or profile near impossible, yet the contrast of the light made recognition of a vague outline possible.

As Prophet looked closer, the head unexpectedly jerked up and gazed at him. The warrior looked helpless, almost in dire need of assistance – in that same instant, an ancient evil of insurmountable comprehension seized control. The head nicked off again, only to eerily rise once more. This time, however, the glare was of the same essence as the red eyes roaming around in the darkness. The being shot up and simply stood there, glancing down at the tiny time mage for many moments.

Quickly, his muscles began to bulge erratically, growing and stretching, amassing to much bigger proportions than Akira’s already huge build. The skin detailed many rips and bled from all over, unable to expand elastically fast enough for the incredible growth of the muscles. The pale skin tone of the dark Prince’s corpse was quickly besmirched by a foul, rotten blackness, quickly eating away at the lighter shades like a cancerous parasite. Jagged, sharp, menacing teeth forced their way through the gums and lips of the Prince’s mouth, protruding out like vile bloody rose thorns, only to be parted by an even more dastardly tongue that flapped around wildly, slinging saliva in all directions like a disgusting water hose.

An excruciating pain suddenly shot throughout the Prince’s back. He hunched down and placed his hands firmly on the ground as the cracking and crunching of bone and tissue came from inside the corpse’s body. Black bat-like wings burst through the back splattering pieces of skin all around, sending the possessed being shrieking like a mad dog. The mighty wings unfolded to reveal a gargantuan wingspan of 30 feet, flapping and shaking savagely to release themselves of any remnants of skin still sticking to their surface. The narrow slotted eyes radiated continually the darkest and most deplorable red hue imaginable, pulsing like an untamed volcanic mass ready to explode and release its unthinkable destruction. The deformity looked at Prophet with pure contempt; it didn’t move its mouth, however, the words it telepathically uttered inside of the mage’s mind were as real as the nightmarish bass in its voice.

‘For millions of years, have I been dormant weakling! Born from the rape of hell and the nightmares of existence, I am the reaver of souls and consumer of hope! Before you I lay the coming of your doom, for Jin hungers so to crave new souls into which I can sink my teeth!!!’

The powerful fist of the monster grabbed the sword sheathed in Akira’s scabbard and pulled it out of its prison. The energy that instantly shot through the weapon was of an unholy, unorthodox nature, not meant for the innocent eyes of the weak and feeble. The blade was thereupon powered up and engulfed in a shell of dark magic, lengthening and thickening the blade considerably to new proportions. The sword drew on the hatred and darkness within the surroundings, sucking in every materialized morsel of energy it could greedily feed upon. Any average mortal attempting to parry the blows of this beast would not only first have to bare the brunt of the Jin monsters insane strength, but also somehow deflect the incredible power that augmented the sword.

The disfigured archfiend held the sword with his right hand to the side as he lifted his other hand. He clenched a tight fist before expanding a ball of purple and black energy in his left grasp and let it grow evermore, until it was bigger than Prophet’s entire body. He raised his hand to the skies and released the massive dark orb which exploded in the sky, raining down acidic droplets of harmful sludge which were quickly approaching a radius of twenty feet all around Prophet. The beast then went in for a massive attack barrage, having the advantage of being immune to the droplets of his own spell, making his charge on the miniscule time mage perfect as his opponent first needed to escape the ensuing rainfall and then also cope with the simultaneous pummeling the Jin monster would deliver.

Jin raised the mighty sword and unfolded his sturdy wings with feral strength, swooping over to his opponent in mere seconds and ready to land a succession of multiple blows and destroy his enemy in entirety. With radiant speed, the beast’s sword swipes were seemingly coming from all directions - the right, the left, and from above. The time mage would first need to identify the true blade out of those that were but mere images of the quickly swiping by sword if he didn't want to parry or dodge them all at once. Even then, he would not only need to swiftly regain his composure, whilst retaining his defenses - he also still had the hellacious rainfall to worry about…