PXFIRE Creative Writing

[LKWayvern]

http://i.imgur.com/DtYUuVx.png

CREATIVE WRITING

Welcome to Pokemon Crossfire's Creative Writing competition! I am your host and judge, LKWayvern! Participating in this section is simple. Just make a short story based off of the prompt I give you, and incorporating any restrictions or parameters I specify in it.
Your short story will be read by me, and points distributed based off of the four following categories, each of them with twenty five points:

Originality Is this story something I've read half a million times? Is it a classic with an unexpected twist? Is it something I've never seen anything similar to before? Blow my mind with your creativity and make your story stand out to earn points in this category.
Characters Characters can make or break a story. Those with excellent command of characters, or can create a strong character-driven story, will end up with most of the points from this category.
Coherency Did your story flow? Was it easy to follow or did it jump around at random?
Spelling and Grammar How legible was the language used in your story?

Before we begin, I'd like for you to follow a couple rules. First of all, I'd like for these stories to be rated at PG-13. Meaning excessive swearing, excessive blood, and certain intimate situations are not allowed. Second, please do not disrespect real people in your stories, especially those on this website. Treat your fellow competitors with respect.
Also, in order to keep the competition all on even footing, you will not be allowed to use stories created prior to the round. In that vein, plagiarism is not allowed. Ever. Do not steal someone else's story to use for your entry, it's disrespectful, rude, and lazy.

Now, shall we move onto the first round?

Event 1
No time like the present! For our first challenge in the Creative Writing section of Pokemon Crossfire, you will have to write a short story centered around the theme of time!
Time is a rather broad topic. Time travel stories, stories told out of order, stories about prophecies, the possibilities are practically endless! So let’s add a couple parameters, shall we?
1) Supernatural Elements. Whether it be magic or manticores, ghosts or griffons, benign or malign, some kind of supernatural phenomenon or entity must be present in your story.
2) I’ll Spread My Wings. Include butterflies somehow in your story. They have some very interesting, contrasting meanings and symbolism that may inspire you.
3) May the Best One Win! Include a contest of some sort within your story!

You have two weeks.

Form:

Username:
Team:
Entry:
Other:

[LKWayvern]

Friendly reminder, the Day of Judgement rapidly approaches!
That is, Sunday. The deadline's Sunday. If you're participating, please make sure your entry is in by that day.

[Neo Emolga]

Chronoshock

The last two minutes were a blur that changed everything.

"We need an emergency evac now, damn it!"

"Lay down some suppressing fire, why-!

Bang. Bang. Chaingun fire everywhere. Everything around me was getting torn and ripped apart. The entire research facility was getting gutted into shreds and the Midnight Lance had absolutely no care about how much collateral damage was caused in this brutal ambush firefight. I felt like I was going deaf as I took cover behind a metallic storage cabinet while hammering, blasting, and violent thundering was surrounding us as everything was getting chewed apart. Obviously, those koldbloods wanted every last one of us animals dead.

My head was ringing and screaming as I tried to hunker down and cover my ears with my paws, dropping my D1 assault rifle and giving up my chance to return fire because it hurt so badly. And here I thought a featherhare's amplified hearing ability would have helped on this forsaken mission. Instead, here I was, trying to keep myself concealed as much as a white-furred winged rabbit could in a tiled room with a lot of metal tables, cabinets, and lab computers and equipment everywhere. If I had been outside in the snowy tundra, this would have been a heck of a lot easier as I could just bury myself anywhere in the snow. Not to mention this wouldn't have been nearly as loud. Instead, I was fifty feet away from the closest window and I really didn't think I could make the run without getting shot. Heck, I would have been lucky only to get hit with grazing fire after attempting that. So instead, as a metallic cabinet fell to pieces besides me, I decided my only chance at surviving was to play dead since I couldn't fight back anyway.

While my ears were ringing like a banshee was screaming into them, Sledgefist was dead. Surprised an crimodiak berserker like him went down but even those dark red, hulking bears can only take so much before kicking the can. Both sokie rookies, Baskin and Vas, were dead. Apparently the Midnight Lance sure didn't have any qualms about outright murdering two combatant monkeys only two weeks out of training. I was pretty sure Zip's wailing and screaming was a good indication that reckless headstrong kangamouse just got half of himself sprayed all over the floor. And then there was Clak. Clak, our misinformed kitty-cat squad leader who had been telling us the intel and mission details that HQ had spent three hours briefing us on was totally wrong. He was one pissed-off hazelcat when he realized how wrong everything had been. Was. Now he was lying on his back with his tongue hanging out and a big hole in his head.

Vortex Point was a deathtrap. Alpha team was killed, and now I was the only surviving member of Bravo. Wow, with Clak and Sledgefist dead, that actually made me the new squad leader. In fact, with both Alpha and Bravo teams dead, that made me the new commanding officer of the entire operation! Wow, what an honor. There sure aren't a whole lot of featherhares who ever get that opportunity. I wondered how long I'd get to enjoy that before I joined the rest of these poor souls. But for now, I had the privilege of getting to command all the remaining operatives. Me, myself, and I were definitely going to need rely on all my years of leadership experience for this one!

Only then did they stop firing. But the ringing and brain-stinging felt like it would go on forever.

"Nightkin, you there?" the radio crackled on, sounding like a gasp that I could barely hear. "Nightkin, what was that noise? What happened? What's your status!? Nightkin!?"

Sorry, HQ, Clak can't come to the phone right now. He's off meowing on a cloud with his newly acquired golden harp, kitty wings, and hula hoop halo. Some mission handler you are, Subcommander Vestin. Oh, go on, now try giving Sledgefist a call. Yeah, the same guy who had obvious doubts about this whole mission in the first place and you had to bribe to get him to agree to it. Funny, they say crimodiaks are as strong as they are dumb, but this guy knew the truth about this mission. We all thought it was a meaningful mission to "give hope another chance" and he thought it was suicide right from the start and he even broke a chair over the whole thing when he was overruled.

"Is anyone out there!?" HQ tried again. "Please respond!"

I did what I should have done three hours ago. I pulled the plug on my communicator headset. And just like that, I was on my own.

HQ would confirm it as a full-on "Status Black" and close the book on Operation White Splitter. They'd send messengers to our families back home about the great news and we would get to have our names etched out on the walls right next to thousands of other names that made it easy to just get lost in the list. No one would care to see my name "Raxo Winterpaw" on the wall when it was among thousands of others. "Oh, it was a noble sacrifice." "Oh, he died serving his country and all the people of Anironica, protecting our future." "What a brave and courageous featherhare he was." They were artificially fancy words that would just be forgotten about and I would just become an estimated casualty statistic.

HQ wouldn't send an evac for one operative. There was no way unless I was actually deemed "mission critical" and only because it was in their best interest to save me. Those carriers were way too expensive to risk an extraction. And there was nothing for over a hundred miles from here, so I'd be dead if I tried to escape on foot. I'd have to improvise flying a stolen Midnight Lance Aerohawk gunship and just the thought of that was hilarious. I'd be lucky if I even figured out where to put the ignition key in if I even got a hold of one.

That left me with one option. Continue the mission. All by myself. It was a joke.

For a minute, I thought it was actually completely impossible with Zip dead. He was the Prime Technical Operator and was the one expected to configure the Rift Channel Algorithms. I was supposed to be his supporting operator this whole mission. We had rehearsed the process dozens of times, but it was impossible for only one operator to do it by themselves.

There was, however, another way. HQ would be pissed I was even thinking about it, but, according to them right now, I was nothing but another dead bunny.

I actually had enough know-how on another way it could be done by hacking the system. To HQ, what I was considering was a "serious violation of protocol and standard procedure." My idea, as a more effective way to get things done and raise the finger to HQ for letting everyone die, was to employ Manascript. And my own personal Vexo Computer. Because at this point, if HQ was perfectly okay with me dying, than I was perfectly okay with crapping all over their protocols and standard procedures which had done nothing but sign us all up for expedited afterlife transition. What I was about to do was extremely unorthodox, but hell, you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.

"Area secure!" one of the Midnight Lance scouts had reported back to the other damned reptiles.

The rookie actually fell for it. In the wake of the carnage, I had been playing dead by making it look like Vas's blood was my blood and the heavy metal cabinet that had fallen over had crushed the lower half of my body when really there was a nice gap in the collapsed drawers I was able to stuff my bunny butt into. I wasn't even sure it would work but it was the only shot I had.

"Everyone out and check the perimeter!" another one shouted in a gruff voice. "I want the compound swept for ten turmarks around! There are probably others out there!"

Nah, just us poor and unfortunate, shot-up mammals. What, these psychotic cyborg lizard kooks actually believed Anironica thought this one through and dropped a whole platoon into this strike zone? Well, judging from the way those Midnight Lance punks headed out, they had to. It was the only reason why they rushed out without checking for vitals. But, then again, if this had been a diversion, there was a window of opportunity and if there was anything about koldbloods I knew for sure, they didn't leave a whole lot of things up to chance.

After they left, I got to thinking about how exactly I was going to use my Vexo and Manascript to hack into the Rift Channel. Anironica hated Manascript, but it was an effective practice that saved my cotton-tailed butt on numerous occasions. They disbelieved all cases where Manascript was the link between science and magic even though I had been working with it for years and tried to convince everyone it was definitely great to work with. But they were dumb and refused to train in it. They always felt using it was disobeying orders and most of the commanding officers thought it was some inane computer voodoo. I hated them for that, but it didn't even make the top ten list when it came to how I truly felt about them.

The original plan was Zip would reconfigure the Rift Channel using a Temper Line and we'd all time hop that way. Yep, time travel. Because fifteen years ago, a little event called the Whiteout Crisis turned the whole world into a nuclear winter wasteland and it effectively killed more than half the Anironica mammal population while giving koldbloods the ability to survive everywhere and pretty much gain the advantage in this endless war. At the current rate, it was estimated all of us Anironicans wouldn't survive the next ten years because of the weather while these damned koldbloods would multiply exponentially. The only way to fix it all was to undo what caused the event to happen in the first place. And now I was going to have to find a way to do that all by myself. So far, no one had been able to successfully time travel back to the past, yet. There was a record that one team, Razor Squad, had traveled back in time, but considering we were still in a nuclear winter wonderland, it was easy to see they didn't finish the job for whatever reason. Obviously since we weren't getting any younger here, everyone stopped waiting for them to do something.

A Temper Line for time travel by a Rift Channel was a very vanilla way of doing it but it was a two-person job and it wasn't like I could tell Zip to walk off the hearty bullet breakfast he just enjoyed. And I couldn't conjure up an imaginary friend that could help me open the channel and work the Temper Line computer that was sitting in a puddle of Zip's circuit and hardware-wrecking blood. Plus the firefight most likely had given it more than enough holes to hang earrings from. My plan was to use my mission-unauthorized Vexo and bypass security by locking everything and everyone out except for me and all the other 0% of koldbloods and Anironica black ops that knew and were allowed to use Manascript. I was so disobeying orders right now and it actually felt good. It would at least ensure I wasn't followed back into the past.

Once the kooks had left to go find and gun down that threatening, mission-critical Charlie squad that would ruin their days with their nonexistence, I had to squirm my way out and get back up on my hind legs.

Since it was safe to actually use my ears again, I tried to listen for anyone or anything, but it seemed like everyone had rushed out in hopes of killing more of us mammals. For now, I picked up my D1 assault rifle, although I imagined firing this thing just once was as bad as shooting myself in the head with it. Everyone would hear it and I'd be one dead bunny.

If Zip was right before and the Rift Channel was up ahead, then I didn't have that much more to go. Thankfully, being light in weight and being able to fly a bit from table to cabinet to chair kept it quiet as I made my way around the research labs. And to think as I looked at the holoboards and charts, I already had a good idea of what kind of nano and cybernetic technology they were working on. Still, what I had in tech skills, I was missing in combat skills. Truthfully, if anyone should have survived that last engagement, it should have been Clak. I had only survived off of pure luck at the moment and there was no telling when that would be running out.

Oddly enough, as I was making my way through the cold, metallic halls, I heard several shots in the distance, as if they were coming from outside. They sounded at least several turmarks away, which was well beyond hearing range for anyone besides a featherhare. No doubt whoever was shooting was a koldblood, but who were they shooting at? Or maybe it was someone else shooting at them? I didn't know who it was unless the Midnight Lance had more enemies out there. But I couldn't stop to care.

As long as it keeps them busy.

When I got to the chamber with the Rift Channel, I saw two huge metallic doors and I saw they had put a heck of an electronic lock on this thing. This whole thing was pretty much a computer in itself. Now here, Zip probably wouldn't have had too much trouble using traditional means, but I wasn't about to try that nonsense and waste time. Instead, I decided to bypass the lock with my Vexo and my Manascript, because I wasn't about to try and see if I could "prove" anything trying to do this the "legit" way. That would only prove idiocy.

Within a few seconds, I had managed to disrupt the coding for the lock, "magically" reprogram it using fast typing of Manascript, and soon enough, the large metallic doors slid open after I electronically reprogrammed and disengaged the lock. I took it as a good sign no alarms went off and I hadn't gone senile since I last tried something like this out in the field.

Once I stepped inside the huge, vault-like room, I was a bit taken back. Rift Channels were way bigger than I thought they'd be. The whole thing was a giant, circular silver portal. As the doors closed behind me, I couldn't help but look at it curiously. Could this thing really be reprogrammed to work as a time machine? I was actually a bit anxious, remembering that no one had successfully pulled off being able to change this crappy, bleak, and cold future.

Still, that's what we came for. That's what the entire team got killed for. Change the future. Stop the Whiteout Crisis. It got me thinking that I'd also go back in time and maybe stop them from getting killed in the first place. Hell, this was worth a shot and would clean up the mess that just happened, also.

As I approached the portal, Vexo in hand and ready to play master chef with this thing's coding, suddenly I felt a weird sensation in my head. It suddenly reminded me of how my ears were ringing before and I was wondering if this was a result of that, but no.

Not when I heard... a voice.

"Be careful. There's no turning back after this..."

I looked around, wondering if I was being stalked or something, but that didn't even sound like a noise but more like some kind of telepathic message. Or at least I hoped so, because the day a featherhare can't even trust their own ears, they've got a serious problem.

Still, as I approached the portal and prepared to hack into the computer, I couldn't help but laugh and think why would I WANT to come back to this? The world was nuked into a permanent winter wasteland and anything with warm blood, self included, kept wanting to hibernate and then never wake up. Oh, and let's not forget two whole teams of Anironica black ops dead because of this mission. Truly, this was a memory I just didn't want to let go. Mama, grab the camera! We can put this one in the scrapbook and decorate it with all kinds of bows and pretty flowers! You know, the days when flowers still existed?

I linked up the Vexo and prepared to hack the crap out of this thing and pretended I didn't hear that lame warning. There were some really complicated algorithms in this mess, but it was nothing my Manascript couldn't handle. And to think in the old days, they wrote magic in books and studied it for ages until they grew beards and had a serious Vitamin D deficiency. This was the new, high-tech way of doing it. And I loved it. And while others were good with guns, sneaking, or junk like that, this is what I was a wizard at.

Once I hacked my way into the portal, I set the time back twenty-five years. Ten years before the Whiteout Crisis events. That would give me enough time to track down the origin point for the attack and stop it so it never actually became a thing. If I pulled this off right, it would save the lives of millions. I doubted it would end the war between Anironicans and koldbloods, but it would at least prevent them from getting the severe upper hand and permanently mess up the world just so they could breed like a virus.

Soon enough, the portal opened with a bright, white light and then a swirling blue and black vortex opened in the portal. Twenty-five years. It was time to go back to when things were better. And rewrite what it had become.

I approached the portal, but once again, someone tried to warn me.

"Everything happens for a reason..."


"...you're going to regret doing this..."

"Buzz off and let me do my job," I muttered.

I then walked through the portal. I didn't know what to expect and whatever this voice was didn't exactly help with the encouragement. Heck, I could have screwed up the whole thing and walked my way out of existence. When I stepped it, I instantly felt like I was sucked in and suddenly everything was blurred into darkness. In those last moments, I thought I had totally screwed everything up.


I didn't bank on my flight being intercepted.

I quickly found out what exactly happened to Razor Squad. More importantly, I found out why they didn't exactly come home, share stories around the campfire, and write songs about it.

I found myself suddenly standing in some ancient circular stone chamber of some sorts. Glowing arcane symbols on the white stone walls, ancient architecture, strange monuments, and yet I recognized there was magic here. While the use of this kind of magic was incredibly old, it was along the same bloodline as Manascript. It was like an ancient city from probably thousands of years ago, but the stonework looked pretty fresh. It was bizarre, how could the ways of old be in a place made with old-style carvings yet look like it was finished just yesterday?

This was definitely not twenty-five years back into the past. This didn't even look like the same planet anymore. So either I screwed up the programming or someone screwed with my mission.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to proceed any further..."

And it was that voice, only this time I heard it directly and it wasn't trying to break into my head. I looked around but I couldn't see anyone, but in a place just brimming with magic, I wasn't stupid and knew I needed to be ready for anything.

"Whoever you are," I spoke out, gripping my assault rifle, "don't underestimate me. Many have looked down on me just because I'm a featherhare but trust me, it's a big mistake if you do. There's no way I'm letting that lizard-infested nuclear winter happen. I don't know what you did but I not letting whoever you are stand in my way! Let me do my job and there won't be trouble."

I saw some flickers of movement and I stepped closer to take a better look. It was a small, fluttering thing like a moon moth, but when I got a closer look, I saw it was some kind of blue and indigo glowing butterfly instead. For a moment, I thought it was a totally unrelated thing until I realized it was this glowing blue and indigo butterfly that had been talking to me this entire time, both in person and screaming in my head back at the research lab.

"Time is like a river. It will always flow in one direction."


"...If you try to swim against it, it will only wear you down and force you to ride with its flow."

THIS is the thing that stopped me? What the hell. I came here to undo a nuclear winter disaster, not listen to some bug's philosophy.

"This ain't no river," I told the bug, realizing actually trying to shoot the thing with this gun might be somewhat tricky with it fluttering around all over the place. "That's my world, my country, my family, and my squad that are dead or dying out there! Who the hell are you to tell me no!?"

I just headed toward the exit. I wasn't going to listen to this thing. I didn't know where pray tell I was, but I'd figure some way out of it. There was still plenty I could do with just a Vexo and some knowhow.

"I have sensed your skill..." the glowing butterfly spoke to me. "You might have been a skilled and talented wizard in another age and another time. But perhaps... if it weren't for so much anger..."

I looked over my shoulder, but I kept on walking. But then, I sensed it trying to cast some kind of spell. I recognized the words, and they were spoken instead of scripted, but I knew what it was trying to do. It was trying to freeze time around me and lock me in a stasis. Hell no to that. I immediately Manascripted a coded barrier to lock it out, and suddenly the protective translucent wall formed a gray barrier between me and this bizarre magi butterfly. As expected, it blocked against the hocus pocus that bug was trying to churn out and caused its spell to just splatter against it.

"You want a fight, little bug?" I asked it, furrowing my brow in anticipation to retaliate. "That was a dumb thing for you to try."

"You say not to underestimate you because of your size," it tried to lecture me again, "and yet you make the same mistake."

And I didn't expect it to grow. And grow. It went from being just a tiny butterfly to suddenly taking on a giant form that swelled in size to what had to be almost five times the size of a crimodiak. I just watched and gawked as I saw whatever this thing was become a colossal monster that even a freaking crimodiak with a chaingun would have trouble fighting. What kind of freaking butterfly was this thing!?

I just chucked the D1 assault rifle aside. That thing was just going to slow me down as it would only shoot splinters compared to how huge whoever this thing was. I had no idea how I was supposed to fight this enormous colorful bug, but damn it, I was at least going to try to figure something out.

"Azurana, Chrono Custodian," the now freaking gigantic butterfly spoke to me in an oddly serene voice. "And you are Raxo. Raxo Winterpaw."

"This needs to happen!" I shouted at her, knowing I wasn't just going to be okay with everyone dying. "And I don't care who you are or how big you can get. You're not stopping me!"

I didn't care if she was some time janitor or whatever. And I didn't care if she knew old school magic or my name. She wasn't going to let me get out of here, so if she wanted to duke it out, then fine. I needed solutions. I didn't come all the way here just for a butterfly's philosophy.

Despite never seeing an old school wizard in action, I recognized the spells. Instead of programmed scripts, they were incantations. And I recognized this one as being an attempt to set the whole damned floor under my feet on fire. I quickly spread my wings and launched myself into the air by springing up on my hind legs, but as soon as I took flight, I knew flying was not going to be easy in here. I just barely caught enough air before the floor under me turned into an inferno that lit the room with light and filled it with a hell of a lot of heat.

"Good," she told me as the glow from the flames illuminated her beady-eyed butterfly face. "You're very spry and very capable. It seems maybe there is hope for the new age of wizards."

Wizard? Far from it. I barely got a chance to practice any of this crap because of how contraband it was. Hell, Vestin would have been all over my butt for even just owning the Vexo if he knew about it. As this Azurana began to cast another spell, I recognized the words and knew she was trying to conjure up a blizzard. Again, I had to settle with coding a magical barrier and put it between her and myself. It held up for a little while before the force of her spell broke right through it and then took a swing at me.

I was thrown against the wall and slid down to the floor, causing me to stumble. Again, I tried to code something into the Vexo to slow her down, but instead, all I got was the sudden shock of seeing her impale the Vexo computer with an icicle. The whole thing short-circuited and I just barely managed to toss it away before it popped in a miniature explosion and was reduced to nothing but twisted chunks of metal and busted circuit boards. And to top it all off, it even smelled bad.

Holy crap, I was just horrified. Without that thing, I was screwed. My entire career was toast without that. Not only could I not do Manascript without it, but now I couldn't hack a single freaking computer with that. That could easily mean I was stuck in whatever god-forsaken era this was. I didn't even know where this was, either.

Azurana loomed over me and I just tried to evade her sight. Thankfully, with her being so huge now, I was a lot more evasive compared to her and I could be a lot more nimble, but I had absolutely no way of fighting back. I was freaking helpless here.

She attacked with a thunderbolt spell, and as I flew upward, I just barely managed to dodge through the raging forks of blazing white lightning as I came within secmarks of getting fried. I came close to hitting the ceiling and had to U-turn my way back down, only to find out she had filled the air with some kind of pink pollen powder. Oh hell. I was breathing so fast that I couldn't help inhale heaps of that stuff, whatever it was. I had no choice but to land when I was becoming too dizzy and disoriented and if I didn't stop flying, I could have crashed and snapped my neck in this place. Heck, even after landing, I struggled to try and stay on my feet. And then to top off even that, I suddenly felt very light-headed and sleepy.

"Stop, just stop..." I told her, coughing and trying to stay away from her by just walking away. "I just don't want to die."

Bloody hell, the pinkish powder was everywhere in the air. It smelled like overly sweet sugar, but I knew what it was trying to do. It was some kind of sedative and the last thing I needed was to fall asleep right here. I probably wouldn't be waking up ever again after that.

"Even though you lost, you survived longer than most did," Azurana told me, shrinking down and returning to normal size. "But I cannot allow you to change the course of time. Many have tried to, but they have all failed. And with good reason."

"So there's no hope?" I asked her, just barely able to breathe. "Everyone got killed for nothing? What the hell, how can you possibly think that's perfectly okay?"

"As long as I am here, time will always move onward, not backward," Azurana continued. "And you need to understand that. Trying to turn back what has already advanced is like a butterfly that wants to go back to being a caterpillar."

"Things were better then," I told her, remembering how it used to be when I was really young. "My family was alive then! And my friends. And the real life I once had. What makes you think this is a beautiful future we ended up with? It sucks!"

And yet, it didn't seem to make her care. I swore, she was as cold as a stone. How could anyone not be bothered by what happened? The only ones who benefitted from that icy apocalypse were the koldbloods. So that was it, then? I just had to accept them winning everything? It would have been better to just go out in a blaze of glory.

"Listen to me," she urged, fluttering around. "There is something you need to understand, and it applies to all creatures. Not just us butterflies."

I couldn't imagine what, but I decided to listen anyway since trying to fight it out wasn't going to go over well especially after seeing how this resolved the first time. For a moment, it seemed like the drowsiness was fading off a bit and I wasn't going to flop asleep after all. I figured that was probably because she didn't exactly want me to drop and snooze right when she was trying to explain something. She probably decided to dispel most of it for now.

"Did you know that before a caterpillar can become a butterfly, it has to die?" Azurana told me, wondering if I knew this already. "But the beauty of it is that even after becoming a butterfly, it still remembers things it learned when it was a caterpillar."

"So what do you mean?" I asked, wondering where she was going with this.

"It's simple," she replied. "You have no reason to fear death beyond losing the opportunity to learn more about the world you're in. For what you learn here, you take into the next."

Was she serious? I wasn't really so convinced there was some kind of easy afterlife just waiting beyond this. I knew how some things were often too good to be true. And considering what I had dealt with in this life, I had every reason to be skeptical.

"So exactly what kind of afterlife are we talking about here?" I asked, wanting some kind of answer on that.

I definitely wasn't going to jump and start believing her on this one right off the bat.

"That's for you to find out in time," Azurana told me. "Until it is your time, learn what you can with the time and the life you have left, because I assure you, it will stay with you in the journey after this one. Fight, survive, and instead of trying to undo what has already transpired, let it strengthen you as you overcome it through your own actions. And this is the competition you face with everyone else in the world. You only have this once chance to learn whatever you can before you have to move on and leave this world behind. And some of those things you may not have another chance at learning."

It didn't give me too much of a lead on what to expect after I kicked the bucket as a featherhare, but I got what she was saying about everything else. Turning back time wasn't an option like I thought it was. And then... I suddenly figured it out.

"So that's it..." I told her, sighing. "Turning back time would actually wipe away the memories of what was learned. It would be impossible to change the future because... I would no longer no what's coming. No one would."

"Precisely," she nodded. "And as a result, very little, if even anything at all, would change as a result of turning back time. Ultimately the same things that took place twenty-five years ago would simply transpire again because what was learned since then would be gone."

There were still so many things that didn't add up, but it seemed like all I had really gained here was just knowing there was a sense of futility. But what did it all mean in the end? All those killed or dead simply moved on? I felt like she wasn't going to give me the answer when it came to what to expect after I died, but there was something else I wanted.

"If what you're saying is true, then just help me with something," I requested out of her. "I'll admit, I always had a passion for Manascripting. But I was always told to cast it aside and let it die with the ways of old. You've shown me this isn't something we can afford to lose, especially after even the koldbloods completely gave it up. And you know way more about magic... the real magic, than what I can do. Help me learn it. Teach me as much as I can learn until I can easily teach others. This is one of those things I know will help them survive and as you said, prepare them for whatever comes next."

I had good vibes coming from this. Maybe this trip would be more about what there was to gain from moving ahead instead of pulling behind.

"I thought you'd never ask..."


"...but deep inside I always knew you would."

[Noblejanobii]

The Butterfly Epoch

Groceries clattered to the floor as Muzapo stood frozen in the doorway of the room of the hotel resort he and his brother had been assigned. The xokhafel was paralyzed in shock and fear at the sight that lay before him. He took a tentative step back, talons clicking on the tile floor, and fear grasped at his every nerve as he began to shake. A few feathers dropped from his wings to the ground as Muzapo began to tremble more before screaming out,

“Maykrotot!” It wasn't long before other residents came rushing to the scene and the proper authorities arrived shortly thereafter. After an hour of chaos and despair, Muzapo finally found respite and was able to sit down on the edge of the fountain in front of the resort hotel. He could feel the eyes of the angels all around him burning into his skull, but Muzapo was still too in shock to give a proper reaction. Instead, he just stared at the star filled sky, wondering, what had Maykrotot done to deserve this? Muzapo leaned back a bit further, his bright green eyes landing on the flag bearing the emblem of the angel regime, a tortoiseshell butterfly. Ah, right, that's why.

Muzapo's thoughts slowly migrated their way back to the events of the few days prior. It was just after the future Queen, the first ever thilthana xokhafel angel hybrid, was announced to be of mating age. Queen Vasníka had decided to keep with xokhafel tradition and host a competition for her marriage rights. Seven bachelors would be competing, three angels, two alhein xokhafels, and two betsweis xokhafels. Locating the most beautiful and the strongest in the land, Muzapo’s brother had been selected as one of the alhein competitors. However, what the Angel Monarchy failed to realize was that Maykrotot and Muzapo were agents of the Haskótte, a small rebel group bent on overthrowing the ruling angels and hybrids and freeing the planet of Alsondysi from its oppressors. Having seen some of the other competitors, Muzapo had been confident when they first arrived that Maykrotot could win any competition that was thrown at him. But now it was looking as if all hope for Alsondysi and the xokhafel people was lost.

“So one of the alheins was assassinated?” Muzapo lifted his head a little at the sound he recognized to be one of his brother’s angel competitor’s voice. It was Antioch Argo, the prince of an angel ruler from another planet. Of the three angel competitors, Antioch was boasted to be the strongest of the group, and from the visible muscle on his arms, Muzapo was willing to put money on that claim.

“That’s what the message from the hotel management said. No doubt one of the other angel competitors did it. Xokhafels are competitive and all but in this type of competition and with the high stakes that it has something tells me they wouldn’t kill each other. At least, not this early on.” Muzapo watched as Antioch and the other angel approached, unable to keep from eavesdropping slightly. He wasn’t sure if they realized he could understand what they were saying. They were speaking in Angelicus after all, the native language of angel-kind. However, it was a fairly well-known fact that xokhafels could pick up other languages faster than any other species on record, with usually two days being needed at max for fluency. Muzapo and his brother had only arrived at the resort this morning and Muzapo was already fluent in Angelicus.

Muzapo reached up and rubbed one of his horns. It was a nervous habit to rub the curve where the splash of neon green lay on his right horn. Now it felt somewhat painful to perform the action since the main reason he had developed this habit was because it reminded him that his brother would always be there for him. They had the same right horn after all, somewhat of an uncommon trait but not entirely unheard of in xokhafel families with multiple children. What was he going to do now though?

“Ah!” Muzapo snapped back into focus when he realized Antioch and the other angel had spotted him. The young alhein leaped to his feet and began to walk back towards the hotel, keeping his eyes low and clicking his tongue silently so he didn’t accidentally bump into someone while he wasn’t looking. “Wait! Please wait!” Muzapo paused and turned around to see Antioch running towards him. Muzapo turned around but kept his eyes cast somewhat downward. This angel was a prince after all, and Muzapo was well aware what angels thought of the xokhafels as a species. Antioch slowed as he approached Muzapo and cleared his throat. “Maykrotot, your brother?” Antioch asked, now speaking Xokhafien, Muzapo’s native tongue. Muzapo raised his hand and shook his head a little.

“It’s all right, you don’t need to try and speak Xokhafien. I speak Angelicus. Yes, I am Maykrotot’s younger brother.” Muzapo bowed a little. “Please to make your acquaintance, sir.” Muzapo jumped a little when Antioch placed his hand on Muzapo’s shoulder.

“Please don’t bow,” Antioch answered, now speaking Angelicus. “It’s embarrassing for you. And please, no sir, just called me Antioch. This is Rox, my half brother.” Muzapo glanced over Antioch’s shoulder and spotted the other angel smiling at Muzapo. He waved but otherwise didn’t say anything. Still, that was interesting. Half brother? Meaning this Rox person was half whatever the native species of Antioch’s homeworld? Or something else? “I just wanted to offer my condolences,” Antioch said, the concern very apparent on his face. “Rox and I just received the news when we were on our way back from the store. I don’t know if you and your brother were close, though I assume so since he brought you here with him. But either way, it is not easy, losing a brother. I know our kinds do not get along very well.” That was an understatement if Muzapo had ever heard one. “However, should you need someone to speak with about this, we are here to listen.”

Muzapo glanced between the two, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. Was this some sort of ploy? Some tactic to cause Muzapo to let his guard down before they killed him too? Muzapo wasn’t sure. But, if it was, then these two were very good actors. After a moment, he relented. He would keep on guard, but for now, they didn’t seem too harmful.

“Thank you,” Muzapo replied, “It’s… unexpected. Usually when we host competition either for a betsweis or a thilthana, while competitors can be seriously injured, killing in general, especially before the competitions… it is not something that has been done since the ancient historical times of our planet. It was outlawed centuries ago. But, to be candid, I think the news has yet to set in.”

Neither Antioch nor Rox seemed shocked at this admission, though Antioch’s already sad expression grew more sympathetic at Muzapo’s words. The two brothers exchanged a look, unspoken words passing between them before Antioch looked back at Muzapo. Running a hand through his blonde hair, Antioch paused to think over his words one last time before making his reply.

“Have they given you another room to sleep in for the night?” Muzapo shook his head. This technically was an angel run resort despite plenty of xokhafels that worked there. Muzapo was pretty sure they were just going to let him fend for himself as a result, that was the usual attitude angels had towards xokhafel problems after all. Antioch, however, did not seem aware of this, his horrified expression evidence enough. “Well, as much as I know you'd probably prefer to spend the night with other xokhafels, Rox and I are willing to open our room to you as well if you wish to stay with us.” At the lack of an immediate yes or no, Antioch seemed to fumble before mumbling, “Just come by if you like, Room 323.” With that, the two brothers continued on their way inside the resort, leaving Muzapo alone.

Thunder began to rumble in the dark sky. Muzapo looked up, barely able to spot the clouds in the darkness. A purple light crackled across the sky, causing Muzapo to flinch and try to cover his eyes, the brightness hurting his eyes. Another rumble echoed shortly after, and a soft drizzle followed, sizzling as it landed on the buildings and ground. Several angels that were walking outside began to yelp as the droplets hit them, either quickly scrambling for their protective umbrellas or dashing inside nearby buildings to take shelter. The few other xokhafels that were outside, however, didn’t even bat an eye as the rain came down. Muzapo blinked a little as the acid struck his face, but he didn’t mind. His species had an immunity to the acid after all, and it actually felt somewhat refreshing right now. Muzapo closed his eyes and spread his arms a little, letting the acid drop on his as he stood in silence. It was only when it was too late that Muzapo’s sharp hearing kicked into gear and caught the quick clicks of xokhafel talons. Muzapo opened his eyes again just in time to have a bag thrust over his head and his hands wrenched behind his back.

Muzapo was given a rough shove forward as the individual behind him began to force him into a running pace. Muzapo’s heart rate began to increase, fear gripping his heart as the images of his brother’s body back in their room raced through his mind. Were these the people that had killed Maykrotot? Were they coming to kill him too? But why? They were just trying to help! Muzapo was suddenly shoved to the ground and thrown into what he presumed was an opening to the underground. Muzapo crashed to the ground, the wind being forced from his lungs. Muzapo began to cough from the stuffy air inside the bag. But his hands were now free! His captor must have let go when he was thrown down the hole. Muzapo quickly yanked off the bag and found himself surrounded by other xokhafels, all wearing pieces of cloth tied around either the horns, arms, neck, or anywhere it would fit that bore the picture of one of the native moth species of Alsondysi, the Haskótte.

Muzapo felt somewhat relieved at the sight. He sincerely doubted these were his brother’s killers. As tough as they all looked, Muzapo knew better. After all, his brother had been one of their members, and Muzapo technically was one too. That explained the bag over his head anyway. Since the fine print of his membership was blurry at best, they treated him as a bit of an outsider.

Muzapo scanned over the familiar faces, wondering what they were doing so far away from their main hideout halfway across the planet. Had the word of his brother’s murder spread that fast? Maybe, but they would have to travel by portal to be here so quickly, and since xokhafels weren’t allowed to use portals, that ruled out that theory. That only left the theory that the Haskótte members had traveled here on foot days ago to possibly provide Maykrotot backup in the competition.

“What happened, Muzapo?” one of the members asked in a somewhat stiff voice. Muzapo glanced over at the speaker, a betsweis named Hablitís. Muzapo glanced down, not wanting to face Hablitís. Anyone else but them.

“I-I… I don’t know. It just happened. H-How did this a-already spread s-so far?” Muzapo reached up and grabbed his head. “I just opened the door a-and there… there he was…” Muzapo’s eyes went out of focus as he began to think about the scene again. He covered his mouth and began to cough, causing Hablitís to rush over and crouch down to Muzapo. They cupped Muzapo’s cheek and ran a claw through Muzapo’s hair in comfort.

“Hey hey hey, calm down, Muzapo. Sh sh sh. It’s okay.” Muzapo lifted his head slightly, trying to look Habiltís in their eyes. He could hear the continual soft clicking that was allowing Habiltís to see in the darkness. And yet, they were still smiling softly at Muzapo, their blue eyes filled with comfort for Muzapo.

“I-I’m sorry… I know Maykrotot-” Habiltís put a finger to Muzapo’s lips and shook their head.

“It’s okay. It appears it wasn’t meant to be. I don’t mind. It was a risk we both took when we joined this line of work. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

“Besides,” another much deeper voice interjected, “we’ve got bigger problems.” Muzapo looked over Habiltís’s shoulder and saw a much larger xokhafel standing off to the side with his arms crossed. The alhein did not appear pleased. “Because you couldn’t protect your brother we’ve got no in with the Queen now! Not unless we get lucky enough to have another alhein member get selected, which isn’t going to happen,” he growled out. Muzapo’s lip quivered and he choked out another sob. “So why didn’t you protect him, Muzapo? Was it just a simple accident or are you cooperating with the angels for the downfall of our society?”


“I-I’m not-”

“You’re not what? One of us? You can bet your last feather on that one. You have never been.” Habiltís hissed at the alhein, baring his fangs at him before looking back at Muzapo in hopes of possibly salvaging the boy’s confidence. But, the damage was already done. What little self-esteem Muzapo had been retaining prior to being thrown down this hole was broken. There was another low rumble of thunder outside as the group stood in silence, only to be interrupted by another xokhafel lowering their head down into the hole.

“Zhamós, sir! The spies in the hotel had reported back. We have a theory as to how Maykrotot may have passed, sir.” The angry alhein that had been yelling at Muzapo turned and arched his head upwards towards the betsweis that was now climbing down to join the small group. The betsweis paused at the scene, recognizing Muzapo and realizing what they had interrupted. They froze. This was obviously a very bad time to interrupt.

“Well? Out with it! We haven’t got all night!” Zhamós growled at the smaller xokhafel. The betsweis flinched a little before stating,

“It appears room service was ordered for all the participants and their plus ones. Originally, the investigators were saying only Maykrotot’s room service was poisoned, but one of the maids said they heard that one of the angels, the Prince of Earth, also had poisoned food but was not there to receive it.” Muzapo sucked in a sharp breath, causing several xokhafel to look at him in explanation.

“Th-That must have been Antioch and Rox’s food,” Muzapo whispered. Zhamós turned and approached Muzapo, shoving Habiltís out of the way and lowering his face to Muzapo’s.

“You know their names?” he growled out. “You aren’t supposed to talk with angels, Muzapo, remember? They’re the enemy here.” Habiltís stood up and shoved Zhamós back, getting in the leader’s face.

“I heard the whole scene, they approached him, not the other way around. They were offering their condolences for Maykrotot. Surely that is acceptable interaction. And can you take into account for one second that, since this wasn’t exactly avoidable, had Muzapo not been out when the food arrived he could be dead too.” Habiltís crossed their arms and swished their tail in anger. Habiltís looked at Muzapo and extended a hand to Muzapo. “Come on, Muzapo, I’ll take you back.” Muzapo looked between Habiltís and Zhamós anxiously before taking Habiltís’s hand and standing up. Moving over to the ladder back outside, Muzapo climbed out first with Habiltís right behind. It was only as Habiltís moved to cover the hole back up that Muzapo heard Zhamós shout,

“Don’t go soft on me just because you’ve lost your pretty boy, Habiltís!” Habiltís didn’t react to the comment, covering the hole then leading Muzapo through the rain back towards the hotel. Muzapo walked with his arms by his side, unsure of what to say or do. Here Habiltís was, trying to comfort him when they were obviously in pain too.

“Don’t listen to him,” Habiltís said quietly to Muzapo. Muzapo did not look up at first, merely listening to the sounds around them. He could hear the crackling of thunder, the tempo of the rain, and below it, all Muzapo could barely pick up the soft clicking of Habiltís's tongue that was allowing him to see. How was he supposed to respond? How could he comfort his friend?

"No… Zhamós is right," Muzapo answered, the shame he felt conveyed through his tone, "I should have been there to protect him. At least if I had been there Maykrotot would be alive, not me." Habiltís froze for a moment before wrapping their arm around Muzapo. The alhein flinched at the action but did not move away from Habiltís.

"Muzapo, don't think that way. Zhamós is not a good person to take life advice from, trust me. Your brother would want you alive, not the other way around. In fact, I have no doubt had it been you that died, I'd be giving him this same speech because he would be so distraught. So please don't be so upset, we'll all get through this, I promise. Just stay strong. Maybe hook up with an angel or two while you're here." Muzapo's face flushed light blue and he glared at Habiltís, the betsweis smiling back at him.

"Habiltís!" Muzapo hissed. Habiltís laughed and ruffled Muzapo's hair.

"I'm sorry! You're just so much fun to mess with, Muzapo. But, despite all of this, at least try to enjoy your time here a little. It's not common for everyday small town xokhafels like us get to visit the grand capital city of Haufálesima." Habiltís had a point there. It was Muzapo's first time visiting the capital city, and it was a beautiful sight. The skyline was lit up, almost as if it were the daytime, but not near as bright.

"Yeah, it's too bad you can't see it. This is an absolutely beautiful city." Habiltís shrugged and pat Muzapo's head.

"I'll get to see it in several hours. Even if it's not as impressive as at night, I'm sure during the day it's still very pretty." Muzapo nodded his head, spotting the hotel a short ways off. He didn't really want to go back yet. He was enjoying talking to Habiltís, it was helping in distracting him from his pain. But, still, he had to return eventually, he supposed. Habiltís seemed to sense Muzapo's hesitation and asked,

"We're nearly there, aren't we?"

"Yes," Muzapo replied in a quiet voice.

"Well then, I suppose we should part ways. But before you go I need to give you something." Habiltís reached under one of his chest robes and produced a small purple cloth, the same material for all the armbands and bandannas the members of the Haskótte rebel group wore. It was old, obviously having been worn quite a bit. On the other side was the Haskótte moth, but it was small, almost hidden except for the bright splotches of green. "Your brother left this behind when he came to the competition for fear of getting caught with it, for obvious reasons. I probably shouldn't even give it to you until later when you're not at such a huge risk but… well, I feel it would be heartless of me not to offer. I was holding onto it for him, but, I think you might take more comfort in it than I will. So, if you want it, it is yours." Muzapo reached out, almost taking the bandanna before hesitating. After a moment, Muzapo shook his head.

"No, you should keep it, I've got a physical connection to my brother right here," Muzapo answered, taking Habiltís's hand and placing it against his right horn. "You need one too." Habiltís smiled before mumbling,

"Oh trust me I've had plenty of physical connections with your brother." Muzapo shoved Habiltís away as the betsweis laughed at Muzapo's obvious disgust. Muzapo stuffed the bandanna in Habiltís’s chest wrap, waved his hand at Habiltís, and started to walk away.

“I’ll see you later, Habiltís,” Muzapo called before dashing through the acidic rain to the hotel. Taking one of the towels provided at the door, Muzapo dried off then stepped inside. The hotel lobby was almost empty except for the xokhafels manning the front desk and a familiar half angel who was asleep in one of the chairs. What was Rox doing down here? Was it really that late? Muzapo checked the nearest clock and frowned. Okay, it was a little late but most xokhafel would stay up for another two hours or so. It then occurred to Muzapo that Rox probably wasn’t used to the time shift. Walking over to the half angel, Muzapo gently tapped his shoulder. “Hey, Rox?” The half angel snorted, his brown eyes flickering open before looking up at Muzapo. Running a hand through his strawberry blonde hair, Rox grinned at Muzapo and stood up.

“So you finally made it back. Antioch and I were a bit worried when the desk said you never came back inside. I assume they still haven’t given you a new room?” Muzapo glanced over at the desk attendants, two of which shook their heads no. Unbelievable. What did the hotel management want him to do? Sleep in the same room as his brother’s corpse? Actually, that’s probably exactly what those awful angels wanted him to do. Rox saw the attendants shake their heads and sighed. “Man, they really do not like you guys. Well, the offer from earlier still stands. You can stay in Antioch and I’s room.” When Muzapo didn’t respond immediately, Rox became a little flustered and coughed awkwardly. Muzapo sighed a little and shrugged.

“Well, I can’t exactly turn you down unless I want to sleep outside. So… sure.” Muzapo wouldn’t lie, he was still suspicious of these two. But after the supposed attempt on their lives and the silent offer of a bed or even a carpeted floor, Muzapo felt like it was an offer he couldn’t refuse. Still, the way Rox’s eyes lit up told Muzapo that it was more than such a simple offer to him. Muzapo gestured for Rox to lead the way and the two exited the lobby, heading towards the elevators.

***

There was a loud banging on the door of the hotel room. A chorus of groans filled the room from the three men inside. Muzapo slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. The room was fairly dark, some light peeking through that disoriented Muzapo’s vision. He started to click his tongue, attempting to get a better visual when Antioch opened the door and light flooded in from the hallway. Muzapo winced, covering his eyes and diving back under the covers of the bed he was in to try and hide from the light. He heard Antioch begin to speak with the person at the door.

“Hello?”

“Yes, are Antioch and Rox Argo staying here along with Muzapo Voyir?” Antioch yawned before answering,

“Yes, that's us. Do you need something? I thought the opening ceremonies started in twelve hours.”

“Yes, well, I came to inform Muzapo Voyir of some news I am sure he will be excited to hear.” Muzapo rubbed his eyes and decided that he had to climb out of bed now. Covering his eyes, Muzapo began to click his tongue again as he climbed out of bed. He stumbled, still having a hard time getting a feel for the room, and placed his free hand against anything he could for guidance and balance. As he approached the door, Antioch placed a hand on Muzapo’s shoulder to help him stay steady. “Are you Muzapo Voyir?” the attendant asked.

The attendant was female. She was speaking too loudly, obviously an angel from the accent and the lack of courtesy towards the sensitivity of xokhafel ears during the day. Muzapo’s echolocation told him that she was tall as well, pencil thin, and was holding a block shaped thing of some kind. A clipboard maybe?

“Yes, I am,” Muzapo mumbled back.

“Good! I have come to inform you that given the recent circumstances with your brother not only are our top angels on the case but that there's been a breakthrough.” Muzapo was willing his entire life savings he knew what it was. But he had to act somewhat surprised. Wouldn't want to make the angel feel less important.

“Oh really?” Muzapo asked, leaning forward ever so slightly to fake interest. “Did you find who murdered my brother? Or possibly a clue?”

“We’re very close to finding the murderer, I believe. We tested some of the food your brother was given when all the contestants were sent dinner and his food was poisoned! We are questioning the kitchen staff now to find the other perpetrator.” Yep, go figure. Though interesting.

“Oh thank you so much, I'm glad you have a lead. That puts me somewhat at ease. I'm glad to know we have such capable individuals on the case!” Muzapo detected the lady’s chest puff out ever so slightly. The ego strokes were working.

“Well I am glad you feel that way, Muzapo but that's not the end of the good news. The hosts of this event, recognizing the turmoil you must be going through, want to offer you a chance for the pick me up of a lifetime. Congratulations, Mr. Voyir, you have been selected to take your brother’s place in the competition for the queen’s hand. And there's no need to worry about failure. Should you lose, you will still be rewarded handsomely, like all participants, but with other special perks unique to your situation. We can go over that in more detail, later on, should you accept. So, Mr. Voyir, what do you say?”

Muzapo wasn't sure what to say to that. On the one hand, it felt a bit suspicious how quickly they had replaced his brother in the competition, and with all the added incentives too. It felt weird. But on the other hand, this was his chance to prove his loyalty to the Haskótte members. They needed another alhein member selected, and here was his chance. But… was it really worth it? He had been targeted too, so staying in the spotlight would only increase the ability to kill him. Still, his brother had accepted, despite all the initial risks, so why shouldn't he?

“That's a very tempting offer. Sorry, it's just a lot to process this morning. You know us xokhafel, daylight always makes us a bit more disoriented.” The lady laughed a little, enjoying the self-deprecating humor. “But nevertheless, with such a tempting offer, as well as the coupled kindness I know the leaders of the event are giving to me by making this offer, I feel like there's no way I can refuse. I would be a fool to not accept.” Once again the woman puffed out her chest ever so slightly. She was obviously proud of herself for having sold the deal. Simple-minded angel.

“Well, I'm certainly pleased to hear that. We will be releasing the news to the presses shortly. Please be prepared for the opening ceremonies in twelve hours. And we wish you the best of luck.” With that, the lady departed and Antioch closed the door. Muzapo heaved out a huge sigh and collapsed against the wall.

“Whoa!” Antioch rushed over and began to check Muzapo’s forehead. “Dude, are you all right? You're not sick are you?”

“No no,” Muzapo mumbled, trying to steady his rapid heartbeats. “I just… can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” Muzapo suddenly felt a laugh bubbling out his chest. He couldn’t see them but Muzapo was sure Antioch and Rox were giving him funny looks. If the situations were reversed he certainly would be. Muzapo finally sighed and shook his head. “Am I crazy?” Silence answered the question. Muzapo could hear heavy breathing, the slight head movements of the two angels. Rox coughed a little awkwardly, before stumbling over thin air and crashing into the wall. Poor kid was apparently a klutz.

“Ouch uh… heh maybe. But aren’t we all just a little bit crazy? Plus, they did offer you what sounded like some hefty rewards should you survive this so uh… well, I don’t think it was that crazy for you to accept.” Rox reached over, causing Antioch to move back some. “Come on, let’s get some more sleep. You don’t seem to be doing too well in this light.” Muzapo didn’t resist as he was escorted back to bed. He was still groggy, and he needed the sleep.

“Thanks,” Muzapo replied as he climbed into bed. “Xokhafels are naturally nocturnal creatures. If our eyes are green, which most are, it means we can only see at night. Thankfully for us, Alsondysi has a thirty hour night cycle. But during our three hours of sunlight, we usually sleep. If you see us up, it means we either have blue eyes or are using echolocation to get around.”

“Is that why you were clicking your tongue like that? And why does having blue eyes make a difference?” Rox asked, his voice close to Muzapo’s ear as he pulled the covers up over Muzapo. Muzapo sluggishly nodded his head.

“Yeah. Just normal talking has a similar effect, but generally, we make clicking noises, as they give the best description of things around us. I don’t know the science behind it but it’s true for me.” Muzapo turned over and folded his arms behind his head as best he could. Swishing his tail back and forth under the covers, Muzapo continued, “I don’t know the specifics about blue eyes, but I do know a blue-eyed xokhafel personally. They and my brother were pretty close. Having blue eyes is a rare birth defect, usually the result of either some form of difficulty during the pregnancy or, more recently, inbreeding. It means they can’t see at night, they can only see during the three hours of daylight. They can use echolocation too, of course, but they’re practically blind for most of a regular xokhafel’s day. Thus, normal activities are very difficult for them.”

“Inbreeding?” Muzapo heard Antioch take a tentative step forward. He had a horrified tone to his voice, indicating he was unaware of this. Then again, most visitors didn’t care enough to look into the specifics of xokhafel society or weren’t even aware they needed to care about the people that served hand and foot on them. “What do you mean inbreeding? You guys do that?” Muzapo shook his head, his face contorting into a disgusted expression.

“Ew gross, no of course not. Not willingly anyway. I’m from one of the few villages still left on Alsondysi that isn’t a breeding camp for the many resorts on this planet, so you don’t have to worry about my bloodlines. But those guys at the front desk? If they’ve got birth defects like blue eyes, detached wings, or a horn count other than two, they are probably inbred offspring. Not that they get to decide that, but you know, that’s the way life goes. The angels here don’t care so long as they get their servants.” Muzapo felt the mattress sink a bit as someone sat down next to him.

“That’s… awful. So they really do treat you guys like animals?” Antioch asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly in shock. Muzapo nodded his head. That was the truth, plain and simple. Xokhafels were seen as trash by the angels that ran this planet. Alheins were destined for physical labor and servicing resorts. Betsweis were destined for breeding camps, seen as too imperfect and disgusting to work at the resorts. Thilthanas, as rare as they were, were destined to work at resorts as well, but in the least desirable services. Some alheins were subject to it too, but male angels were much more predatory than the females. Xokhafels were just slaves to the angels, that’s how it was. “I thought those were just rumors. I never realized it was this bad. So I presume all the xokhafels competing are hoping to change that, right?”

“Oh how naive,” Muzapo responded without thinking, another laugh bubbling from deep inside him. Rox and Antioch stiffened in silence as Muzapo laughed again, the sound sour in tone. “No, my brother and I were probably the only ones thinking that way. More than likely, the other three are just hoping to escape their old lives and the poverty that comes with it. Why work to change a species if it risks all the luxuries in the world?”

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t… this is just awful.” Antioch heaved a heavy sigh before placing his hand on Muzapo’s arm. “I hope one of us wins the Queen’s hand. I don’t intend to let this injustice stand any longer. I’ve seen the effects of it on our home planet, and while I can’t fix the issues there, maybe I can help things here.”

Muzapo didn’t reply, rather, he lay in silence. After a moment, Antioch got off the bed and walked elsewhere. Muzapo wasn’t sure where as he was no longer using echolocation to view the room. Instead, he let sleep take him. He had already ruined their morning mood because he had been sleep-deprived, so best to fix that later.

***

Twelve hours after receiving the news that he was now a contestant, Muzapo now climbed to the roof of the hotel building with Antioch and Rox close behind. The other contestants and their plus ones would be there as well. No one had any idea exactly what was going on, just that the contestants were told to wear flight gear but that the plus ones needed to dress nicely. Thus, while Rox was in a suit, Antioch and Muzapo were in loose clothing that allowed their wings great range of movement. In fact, Muzapo was not even wearing the usual chest straps that were required of xokhafel in public angel territory, because you know screw them those things were uncomfortable and made flying extremely difficult. Muzapo even had a pair of goggles to protect his eyes from the wind since, at heights like this, it could be dangerous to fly without proper protection.

The wind whistled loudly as the trio stepped out onto the roof. Muzapo scanned the other people spread across the rooftop. He spotted several groups of reporters immediately, and it was not hard to pick out the other five competitors. Three other xokhafels and two other angels, plus their guests. Muzapo narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to recall what he had read about the other contestants.

“So the Prince of Earth has finally decided to show his face! Oh, and he brought his little brother too. Did you hire a xokhafel servant while you were here or is he the other contestant? Looks a bit too scrawny to be a contestant if you ask me.” Muzapo’s expression twisted into a snarl at the approaching angel’s comments. He remembered this angel. Prince Raven Sincock of the planet Tehokyu, an angel known best for his black color scheme. Except for the tips of the bangs that hung over his left eye, those were colored gold, the angel was almost entirely black in color. His short cut hair was black, his wings bearing onyx feathers, and even his flight clothes faded in with the night sky somewhat. If it weren’t for his pale as white skin, the angel could be mistaken for a fancy statue. Still, Muzapo recalled that his appearance at this competition had apparently caused some controversy in the angel world. What was that about again?

“Hello again, Raven. It’s a pleasure to see you’re doing well. You obviously remember my brother, Rox, and this is Muzapo, the replacement contestant for Maykrotot.” Raven turned his head and scanned Muzapo over as if he were inspecting a piece of meat that was about to be cooked. Finally, the angel grinned and stuck out his hand.

“Ahh I see, well a pleasure to meet you then I guess. Don’t get your hopes up on winning though. The Queen is mine, I can guarantee that.” Muzapo swallowed roughly at the silent threat and stared nervously at Raven’s hand. Did he want a handshake? Was he allowed to do that? Muzapo mentally slapped himself for questioning himself over a stupid freaking handshake and reached out, giving a firm shake. This caused Raven to laugh, leaving Muzapo even more confused than before. “Oh man! That takes guts, kid. You’re still good, but you gotta be pretty brave if you’re willing to shake a fallen’s hand.”

Fallen. That was the source of the angel controversy. Raven was a fallen angel. Said to be some of the most despicable angels there were angels that bore the label of fallen were said to be created in one of two ways. Either they were born fallen, like Raven, or became fallen by committing some sinful act that, when judged by a council of archangels, was so horrible, the only suitable punishment was to be stripped of all rights and labeled fallen. The latter was far less common in modern times than it once was, but this still did not remove the stigma from fallen angels, especially not with people like Raven running around. Though it probably did not help Raven's case that his father was the infamous Ramiel, an archangel watcher best known for his fall from grace through the teaching of forbidden knowledge to the people of his planet.

"I see no reason to discriminate given the status I hold," Muzapo replied simply, earning a howl of laughter from Raven. The fallen angel held his stomach as he laughed, red eyes filling with tears at the joke that he obviously found much funnier than anyone else on the roof. Finally, another angel walked over and wrapped her arm around Raven's shoulder.

"Raven, I think you're scaring the poor boy," she said curtly before looking over at Muzapo. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Muzapo. I'm terribly sorry for your loss, but I'm glad you chose to participate despite it all. I'll be rooting for you." The woman paused, knitting her golden eyebrows together before lightly whacking herself in the forehead. "Oh, how impolite of me, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Araxie Sincock, Raven's sister." The fallen angel curtsied, smiling at Muzapo before leading Raven away from Antioch, Rox, and Muzapo. She was a lot nicer than Raven, but perhaps it was because she was not pure fallen? Muzapo was unsure, but her golden hair, green eyes, and vibrant color scheme, from her teal dress to her brown boots, indicated she was a regular angel. Yet, her wings were solid black like Raven's wings.

"Don't let him get to you. Raven is all bark and no bite, like most other fallen angels," another angel said as he approached. Muzapo heard Raven shout in protest from across the roof but he did not care to listen to the callous words of the fallen angel prince. Instead, Muzapo looked the approaching angel over, recognizing his distinct appearance immediately.

The man standing before them was the ruler of the planet Anglovia, better known as King Malak. There was no mistaking the man's heritage. From his long flowing golden hair to his glittering sapphire eyes and his radiant skin, this man was definitely an angel if Muzapo had ever seen one. Given the size of his wings and the two dots under each of his eyes, Muzapo was able to make a strong guess that Malak was a rank two archangel. Immediately realizing he was in the presence of someone who could easily kill him, Muzapo bowed his head, raised his folded arms, and extended his leg backward in a traditional xokhafel bow.

"It is a great honor to be here with you, King Archangel. Thank you for the advice, I will have to take it to heart." Malak smiled a little and put his hands on Muzapo's shoulders.

"I am glad to see you are up to date on your manners, Muzapo. You are one of the surprising few." Muzapo resisted the very strong urge to roll his eyes. Of course, Malak was referring to the other xokhafel competitors. Everyone was supposed to be briefed on the statuses and such of the other competitors, hence why Muzapo knew so much about the others. However, Muzapo doubted the other xokhafels cared enough to actually learn it. Even Maykrotot had been less than pleased to be drilled on the subject. Muzapo, however, enjoyed learning about other cultures and the significant figures that dwelt within them, so he had made no issue at this request. But that was somewhat of an anomaly, Muzapo supposed.

“Of course, your majesty. I might request that you forgive my fellows for their lack of courtesy, no doubt they are shocked by your brilliance. It is not often that we get the honor of meeting an archangel, such as yourself.” Malak smiled a bit wider at the flattery, his gold hair blowing towards Muzapo in the wind.

“Well if the request were coming from anyone else, I might refuse. But since you have been so polite, I will forgive them for now. Do try to teach them some manners, won’t you?” Before Muzapo had the chance to reply, Malak walked away, moving towards Antioch and Rox to have a more private discussion. Realizing it was something he was not meant to hear, Muzapo walked over to the other side of the roof to greet the other xokhafels. None of them looked towards him as he approached, instead practically ignoring him until Muzapo was right next to them.

“Ah, Maykrotot’s younger brother, welcome. Glad to see you could make it. Though, quite candidly, we were all expecting you to return home following the tragedy.” Muzapo looked over at the alhein speaking to him. Where Muzapo’s brother had been the alhein representing strength, this alhein was definitely the representative of beauty. His feathers were a rainbow of colors and his plumage was very large. Even his tail was completely made of feathers that, Muzapo recalled from his reading, could be spread in a large semicircle of various colorful patterns reminiscent of the Earth creature called the “peacock”.

“I appreciate your condolences, Jamoheit, but it would have felt wrong for anyone else but myself to replace my brother. This was his spot, and I hope I can live up to the legacy he was going to leave.” Jamoheit smiled at Muzapo’s feigned confidence and nodded his head.

“Brave words, young one. I wish you the best of luck. You’re going to need it.” Jamoheit, having lost interest, left Muzapo with the two betsweis competitors to go flirt with some of the angels in the area. He was a predator if Muzapo had ever met one.

“High crest,” one of the betsweis muttered as they crossed their arms and rolled their eyes. “He’s as arrogant as they get. Still, that was very brave of you to take your brother’s place, Muzapo. I hope you succeed somewhat in your endeavors. You are taking on a large burden that should not be yours.” Muzapo smiled a little and bowed his head in a signal of appreciation.

“Thank you, Quastinami. I wish the same for you. Only one of us can come out a winner, but I hope we all receive a reward in some way. Though I am not sure what exactly I would want.” The betsweis laughed, lowering their arms and sighing. Muzapo glanced over Quastinami, the betsweis representing strength. His arms, legs, and wings had the muscles in them to back it up, even if they were not entirely visible. His feathers were fairly dull to boot, another sign of strength. It was common knowledge that if a betsweis had more brown feathers than any other color like Quastinami did, then they were born with the natural gift of immense strength. This fact was also somewhat true with alheins, but betsweis were much stronger than alheins in many cases. Still, one thing about Quastinami made Muzapo frown. Both betsweis were still wearing their chest covers, albeit more flight-enabled ones. Of course. These stupid angels always had their prejudices.

It had always perplexed Muzapo why thilthanas and betsweis had to cover their chests when in public areas where angels were known to frequent or inhabit. In Muzapo’s village, none of the sexes, alhein, betsweis, or thilthanas, were required to cover their chests. The only thing required was lower half coverings, which served little purpose now other than preserving tradition, but at one point in time served as both protection from public dominance establishment and as a way to further symbolize societal ranking. Still, Muzapo had no doubt in his mind that the angels would have required xokhafels to wear such garments anyway given they also wore such coverings as well. Muzapo was unsure why angels were so sensitive to the sight of reproductive organs, though he recalled Habiltís often joked that it was obviously because the angels were jealous theirs were not as impressive. Whatever the reason, it was a real pain in the rear end for all xokhafel involved.

“Th-That’s nice of you to say, Muzapo. Thank you. Though… I doubt I’ll win anything. I’m just happy someone thought me pretty enough to bring me here.” Muzapo shifted his focus to the other betsweis. They were the youngest competitor, that much was obvious, but they were also giving Jamoheit a run for his money in the beauty department. The betsweis, known as Zimita, also had plumage of a variety of colors. The difference between them and Jamoheit, however, was that while Jamoheit’s feathers held all the colors known to xokhafel kind, Zimita’s only held those of the brightest rainbows, causing them to stand out amongst many xokhafels due to their interesting color palette. Muzapo reached out and ruffled Zimita’s hair, giving the smaller xokhafel a confident smile.

“Don’t worry about it. If anything I think you’ll be one of the most popular competitors.” Zimita’s eyes lit up and they opened their mouth to reply when a trumpet sounded across the roof. Muzapo turned around to see several angel guards land on the roof. The news crews scattered across the roof started rolling as the angel guards descended from the portal not too far above the roof. Then, out of the shimmering purple portal, another figure descended. Muzapo and all the others standing on the roof lowered onto one knee and bowed their heads in respect as the Queen touched down onto the roof.

“All rise!” one of the angel guards called. As Muzapo stood up, he leaned forward ever so slightly, attempting to get a better look at the Queen. It was his first time seeing her, as Muzapo only knew of her through the information that traveled by word of mouth. She was as magnificent as they spoke of, if not more so. Her hair was dazzling, an alternating of gold and platinum caressing her radiant face that matched her horns of the same color. Her horns curled from the side of her head towards the back, where it split into three spikes, the symmetry of the horns signifying her hybrid heritage. Her eyes were a brilliant xokhafel green, and the wings attached to her arms were a mixture of soft grays and whites with specks of gold. The four wings that flapped behind her were also white but gave off a golden glow that made them hard to look at for too long. She was dressed in solid white robes with a large tortoiseshell butterfly on the chest, hiding any other plumage she might have, but her feet were that of a normal angel. Truly, she was a beautiful woman. It was no wonder she was in line for the throne, not only was she the daughter of a Seraph, one of the highest classes of angels, but she was truly magnificent in appearance. She deserved a better husband than what this rigged contest could provide her.

“Hello to you all,” she said, “it is a pleasure to make all your acquaintances. I am very excited to see you all here. Ever since I was little and I first learned of xokhafel cultures, I became very eager for this day. I am Princess Valika, as you all know, and I have come to inform you of the details of your competition. But first, all competitors need to put on a wristband.” Princess Valika waved her hand and one of the angel guards began to approach each contestant. When he reached Muzapo, Muzapo took the wristband and began to examine it. It looked like an ordinary wristband but obviously, it was more than that. Muzapo shrugged to himself then slipped it on. Once everyone had theirs on, Princess Valika continued her speech. “These wristbands will allow up to keep track of your vital signs during the competition. This will allow us to determine whether or not a player is dead should they go missing throughout the competition.” That raised a few eyebrows. Go missing? Wouldn’t that be kind of obvious if they didn’t show up to a tournament round? “Your competition is a fairly simple one in theory. In a few minutes, we will open up a portal that will lead you to another place and time, and you will fetch a specific item for me. The first competitor to return with the item will become my husband.”

“Wh-What?” Zimita whispered, their legs starting to shake in fear. Muzapo wasn't quite sure what she meant either. Another place and time? That implied the competition was taking off Alsondysi. That certainly would be a first for a mating competition but, then again, this was no ordinary fight for the lady's hand. Muzapo reached over and placed his claws on Zimita's shoulder in a supportive gesture. They seemed to appreciate the comfort, their shaking calming a bit.

"Now I know that's a vague description, but I assure you, this competition would be one for the history books. As natives to Alsondysi know, the top of this hotel is in the middle of one of the lowest and fastest air currents on the planet, the Haluras. Two miles away, a portal with a blue coloring will open shortly. All seven competitors will fly to the portal and, upon entry, will be transported to fourteenth-century Japan, on Earth." Muzapo glanced over at Antioch. The angel did not show any emotion at first glance, but Muzapo noticed that he looked a bit paler than usual. Wonder why that was? "You will be fetching for me one of the Imperial Regalías of Japan, the sword of valor known as the Kusanagi. The first to return with it will be my husband." That seemed like a simple enough task but Muzapo doubted that the people this artifact belonged would just hand it over. Still, he had already signed up for this, he was not going to back out now. "So, without further ado, let's get this started! Competitors, line up along the edge of the roof!" Is it starting now? Muzapo supposed she has stated that but still, a bit quick to jump right? Maybe it was to prevent people acquiring tactical advantages or something.

Muzapo and the other six walked over to the roof. The four xokhafels got down into a crouched position, their front claws gripping the edge of the roof while the back legs were bent, ready to push off at the word "go". The three angels all leaned forward, somewhat off the roof, with their wings spread. Muzapo lifted his tail into the air somewhat, his eyes focused straight ahead. He lowered his goggles over his eyes, those that had them doing the same, and silence settled over the roof. Muzapo slowed his breathing, deep breath in, slow breath out, deep breath in, slow breath out. Then, in the blink of an eye, there came the shot.

"Let the games begin!" There was a loud crack and all seven competitors leaped off the roof. The three angels rose high into the air current while the four xokhafels dove before opening their wings and lifting into the air. Muzapo and Jamoheit opened their tail feathers as well, Jamoheit partially opening his in a small semi circle while Muzapo's stuck close to his tail in pairs of feathers along the spine of the tail for more directional control. It wasn't long before the two were gaining and passing the angels. First, they passed Antioch, then barely flew past Malak. Problem was, Raven was much further ahead of them, outside of a reasonable flying reach at the speeds they were going. Still, that didn't mean Muzapo couldn't make a close second. Flapping his wings, the xokhafel started to edge forward after Raven. Then, from behind him, came a shot.

"Hey! Dude! What the shagena!" Muzapo glanced over his shoulder at the xokhafel swear word and saw Malak slashing at Quastinami with a long dagger. The betsweis tried to play keep away but it was obvious Malak was not going to stop. Well, drastic times call for drastic measures. Quastinami flapped his wings, putting him higher into the Haluras, then dove and scrapped his talons across Malak's right wing. It only tore away a few feathers, but it was enough to scare off Malak. He flapped his wings and shot ahead, catching up with Raven as if it were nothing. He whispered something to the fallen angel, his expression only giving a glimpse of how enraged Malak was. Raven nodded his head and spun around, continuing to fly backward towards the portal. Muzapo furrowed his brows as he watched Raven hold his hands in a very strange position.

"Get out of the way!" Antioch shouted above the winds. At the same moment, a black bow with a notched silver arrow appeared in Raven's hands. He released the arrow and it shot forward, obviously enchanted by some form of magic as it fought against the winds of the air current. Muzapo quickly angled his tail downward, causing him to rise so quickly he nearly exited the Haluras. He kept his eyes below, watching as the others attempted to dodge the magic arrow. Antioch, Quastinami, and Jamoheit all managed to navigate out of the arrow's path, but Zimita, the weakest flier of the xokhafel contestants, was not so lucky. They cried out as the wooden arrow stabbed through their left wing. Zimita tried flapping his wings desperately but the betsweis began to plummet towards the ground.

"Zimita!" Raven and Malak entered the portal without a second thought, but Muzapo was not about to let Zimita die because of sabotage. Shifting his position, Muzapo slowed himself down enough to be able to fly high enough to avoid the portal. He then tucked his wings and folded in his tail feathers, entering a steep dive after Zimita. He did not care if he lost the winning spot, a fall from this height meant certain death! Muzapo exited the lower part of the air current and quickly started to gain on the failing Zimita. They were thrashing about, trying their best to get some sort of grip on the air but with a damaged wing they were not going to be able to recover very well, if at all. Muzapo waited until he was almost right next to Zimita before shouting,

“Hang on! I’m going to grab onto you with my talons!” Expanding his wings, Muzapo lifted himself up a little before grabbing Zimita’s arm with his talons. Unfolding his tail feathers, Muzapo started to navigate back towards the Haluras but suddenly found he was falling too. Zimita’s dead weight was a lot heavier than Muzapo had anticipated. His breaths came more quickly as Muzapo started to strain himself from trying to carry double his weight. He was not strong enough! Muzapo was really started to regret skipping out on manual labor in favor of doing research. Finally, Muzapo dimly realized he was not going to be able to carry Zimita through the portal. He would have to let them down somewhere else and hope for the best. Muzapo started to scan for a good drop off point when his load felt quite a bit lighter.

“Muzapo! Come on! What are you dawdling for? The portal is closing!” Muzapo’s head snapped in the direction of Antioch’s voice, the angel holding onto Zimita from below. The combined strength of the two made it easier to fly. Giving a few hard beats of his wings, the trio ascended back into the air current’s path. With the extra help from the high wind speeds, rescuing Zimita was now simply getting to the portal. Having never traveled via portal before, Muzapo braced himself slightly as they dove in, unsure of what to expect. He was forced to close his eyes, the lights overwhelming him for a few split seconds before he found himself with a face full of dirt.

“Oh thank the elders, they all made it!” Muzapo groaned loudly and lifted his head. He immediately winced at the sudden influx of light. “Oh yeah, sorry, don’t open your eyes. It’s day time here.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Quastinami,” Muzapo replied sarcastically. Why were they grateful he had made it? Muzapo didn’t see Quastinami or Jamoheit diving after Zimita when they were struck with Raven’s arrow. “Who all is here?”

“Just us,” a voice that Muzapo recognized as Jamoheit answered, “The other two angels were long gone by the time we exited the portal. Daylighter’s advantage, you know. Quastinami and I decided better to not test fate by wandering around in these unfamiliar surroundings during the day. Worst case we’re like three hours behind right?” Muzapo frowned at the assertion. They were on Earth, weren’t they? That meant that the days were different.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” Antioch interjected, “But Earth has more than three hours of sunlight a day. Unlike Alsondysi, our days are twenty-four hours, not thirty, and how many hours of sunlight we get depends on where on Earth you are located. Given how high in the sky the sun is, I say we have got half a day left. If I could have a look at the flora and fauna, I could better pinpoint where we are, but the queen-to-be did say she was sending us to Japan, so there’s a start.”

“So how many more hours of sunlight do we have to sit through? And what are we going to do about Zimita’s wound? We can’t treat that using just echolocation eyesight. Most xokhafel doctors use both their regular eyesight and echolocation to properly treat a wound!” Quastinami shouted, their voice quivering. The poor betsweis was obviously starting to freak out, and Muzapo could not exactly blame them. He was feeling a lot less confident now than he had been when he had accepted that angel lady’s offer in Antioch’s hotel room.

“If I had to guess, probably six more hours, give or take,” Antioch answered. Muzapo’s echolocation detected the angel shifting to get a better look at Zimita’s wing. He was silent for several beats, brushing his hands across Zimita's feathers before sighing loudly. “I don’t know much about xokhafel anatomy, and I’m not a doctor, but maybe if we work together we can treat Zimita’s wound. First, though, we are going to need supplies, and I am not sure what we will be able to find in fourteenth-century Japan.”

“My wing is definitely shot,” Zimita said quietly, “I won’t be able to fly for several weeks, or months more likely. I’m useless here. Toss me back through the portal before it closes. I accept defeat because of my lacking flight abilities.” A tense silence settled over the group. Muzapo did not want to just toss Zimita back. This was not their fault! If anyone should be disqualified because of this, it was Raven. But sadly, that was not going to be the case. Muzapo clicked his tongue before stepping closer to Zimita and bending down beside them.

“If they want to toss you back, they are going to have to go through me, Zimita. You deserve a shot at this just as much as the rest of us. Antioch, can you tell us exactly what the injury looks like?” Just like Quastinami said, Muzapo was not getting a perfect view of the injury based just on echolocation. He could see that there was a solid hole through the wing, which was unsurprising given how high the wind speeds were in the Haluras. There is a reason flying up there without proper protections is very much against the law. Muzapo knew that the only reason they had gotten away with the little precautions they did was due to the high demand for the competition to occur.

While Muzapo was not getting a clear picture of everything around him, it appeared the injury was in the lower arm muscle of the wing, so he knew there was no way feathers had not been ripped away. Yeah, Zimita was definitely not getting back in the air for a while. But beyond these details, Muzapo was blind. His echolocation was having a hard time getting a picture here, probably because they were outside whereas most medical examinations took place in close quarters specifically for the reason that it allowed better echolocation pictures. Was there blood? Muzapo was uncertain, but it quite the likely probability that Zimita was bleeding very badly.

“Well, if we are doing this, we’re going to need to cut off circulation first. A tight knot of sorts needs to be fashioned from cloth or a belt or something,” Antioch instructed, tapping his chin as he looked through their surroundings. “We’ll need to find water to clean the wound, then we are going to need to wrap the wound itself, possibly put it in somewhat of a splint to keep you from straining it too much. Any ideas for supplies?”

“Use my chest straps,” Quastinami quickly suggested, the betsweis already moving to remove their chest covers. “Use one to cover the wound and the other to tie the arm. Not like I need them now that we are out of angel territory.” Muzapo noticed Antioch appearing to smile at that comment, seemingly just as amused at the concept of covering betsweis as most other xokhafel.

“Muzapo and I can go look for water and sticks for disinfectant and a splint. Even if it’s day, our echolocation should allow us to locate things without too much issue,” Jamoheit added, Muzapo nodding his head in agreement at the proposal. Antioch gave the trio a thumbs up and took one of Quastinami’s straps to tie Zimita’s arm.

“Be safe. If you plan to fly, stay low to the tree line. If we are in Japan, it’s highly likely locals will mistake all of us for yokai, which means they’ll most likely try to kill us on sight. I have no clue how close we are to a village or any sort of civilization, but better safe than sorry. Okay?” Muzapo and Jamoheit nod their heads in agreement before lifting off into the air to try to locate a water source. Sticking close to the canopy of the forest around them, Muzapo started to get a headache from the echoes of all the unfamiliar shapes, sounds, and other objects. Was this the world Antioch had grown up in? It explained why he was somewhat familiar with how Earth operated. But still, Antioch appeared very confused as well, meaning that he was not entirely familiar with this particular area. That could prove troublesome. Even worse, they had no idea what exactly they faced here opponent-wise. If Antioch knew, he sure was not telling. Muzapo angled his head to the side a little, picking up an image of what appeared to be a pond.

“Jamoheit!” Muzapo called out, “I think I can see something. This way!” Shifting his tail feathers in the wind, Muzapo followed the echoes of the image to a small clearing in the forest. He flapped his wings a few times as he landed next to a quaint pond. Jamoheit gracefully touched down next to Muzapo and nodded his head.

“This is as good as we will find on short notice. Go look for sticks nearby, I will bring Antioch and the others here.” Jamoheit took flight again, his feathers creating large gusts of wind as he lifted off. Muzapo paused, clicking his tongue several times to gauge his surroundings a bit. Tall trees very unlike those on Alsondysi rose all around him, possibly bearing flowers? Muzapo was not sure. He left a soft breeze rush over him before stepping into the woods and searching for fallen sticks and limbs for a splint. Uneasily stumbling along, Muzapo quickly realized this was going to be an extremely difficult task. With all the background noise that he was unfamiliar with, Muzapo was having an extremely difficult time discerning images from one another. While in his village on Alsondysi, he was familiar with his surroundings so he was able to easily tell the differences between details, everything around Muzapo was so unlike what he was used to, it was disorienting. For a moment, he entertained the thought of climbing one of the trees and breaking off a branch, but that was too cruel to the tree. Instead, Muzapo opted to blindly stumble around, touching things that looked like fallen branches with his talons.

After several attempts to pick up what Muzapo presumed were actually tree roots, he was able to locate a few sticks and started back to the pond. As he trotted back, Muzapo started to get different image echoes. He paused, swiveling his head in an attempt to get a better picture. His ears were faintly picking up on the sound of hoofbeats, but also something else that Muzapo could not place. He picked up the pace, dashing back to the clearing just in time to witness the others land.

Antioch set Zimita on the ground and the group got to work. Using ripped cloth from Zimita’s straps, Antioch carefully cleaned out the wound. The water was not pure, but they did not have the time to purify it. Using broken pieces of the sticks Muzapo had gathered and the cloth from Quastinami, Antioch created a makeshift sling around Zimita’s arm and wing. It was the best they could do for now.

“So what now? Do we attempt to locate shelter until nightfall?” Jamoheit asked the group. Muzapo felt uneasy about lingering. His thoughts lingered on the echo images from earlier. He could not shake the feeling that there was some sort of threat present, lurking just beyond their echolocation range. But traveling would not be an easy task either. Someone, meaning Antioch, would have to carry Zimita if they intended to fly anywhere.

“I want to get a better grasp of our location,” Antioch answered. “If we wait somewhere until nightfall I should be able to take a guess at our location based on the stars.” Even with their eyes closed, Antioch could tell from their expressions that all the xokhafels were very confused. “Earth has different constellations depending on where you are, just like flora and fauna. Problem is, I am not very well versed in flora and fauna so trying to pinpoint our location that way will not go over very well. Stars, however, I know a bit more about. It might be possible to determine where in Japan we are based on the stars. Or, at the very least, which direction north is.” Antioch paused then asked, “Do you all not observe the stars?”

“We do not,” Muzapo responded. Muzapo sat in silence for a moment, trying to figure out how to word his answer before explaining, “I cannot speak for all villages on Alsondysi, but in mine, there was an old legend about the stars. When xokhafels, as a species, were starting to grow and form civilizations, they worshiped the stars, believing they were their ancestors of the past watching over them with the gods that had always been there, guiding our species. The stars were praised, there were festivals surrounding them, and if you look hard enough you can still find poetry and songs about them. But, that all changed, when the angel nation attacked. According to the legends and documents from the times, those that studied the stars started to notice that the lights were growing larger each night. No one was sure what to make of it. Some thought that the gods were coming to visit and would be bearing gifts for those who welcomed them. Others thought that it was the apocalypse. I doubt anyone imagined it was both. It was an event that became known as, “Najiteri Katazul” or “Star Descent”. They came wearing crests of what we later learned was an insect called the tortoiseshell butterfly and spoke in a language no one understood at first. So the villages came together and elected representatives for negotiations. Two xokhafels and angel walk into a room, diametrically opposed, foes. They emerged with what they called a compromise that opened doors that were previously closed. The angel emerges with unprecedented financial power and a system he can shape however he wants. While the two xokhafel leaders get riches and luxurious lives in the world’s capital. But then, many members of the xokhafel species were slaughtered while others were rounded up and bred like animals. And when people tried to complain to the leaders that were high on fame, they denied ever agreeing to such a thing, and we all came to realize the pièce de résistance. No one else was in the room where it happened so we had no one to blame, not one to punish, and no way to rectify it. After our species nearly went extinct, they allowed a few villages, like my own, to prosper in peace, away from angel civilization. But to this day, because of that, young xokhafels in my village are taught to fear the stars.”

A heavy silence fell over the ground. Muzapo heard Antioch take a slow, deep breath as if he was not sure how to process this information. Muzapo was unsure how universal this information was, or if it even applied to the cultures of those outside his village. But Muzapo vividly remembered being taught as a child to never lift his eyes to the sky, lest he invokes the wrath of the angel monarchy for raising his eyes to them. It was part of the reason Muzapo never looked an angel straight on. He had always envied how Maykrotot was able to confront them with a head held high and the confidence of a thousand alheins. Muzapo doubted he would ever be able to do the same.

“I am sorry.” Muzapo tilted his head slightly at the sudden soft apology. Antioch had his head lowered, not looking at any of the four xokhafel around him. Was he ashamed of actions that were no fault of his own? “You do not deserve the treatment you have received. You are not the only planet that has suffered like this. Many angels within my generation have been fighting to free these planets from the dictators that control them. It will not rectify the wrongs of the past, but, at least I believe, it will give those planets, and the species that inhabit them, a chance to create societies and the future they desire.”

“Is that why you entered in this competition?” Zimita inquired, their voice carrying a note of hope within it.

“Yes,” Antioch responded, lifting his head ever so slightly so that he could look at those around him. “And while they may not look it, Raven and Malak also have the same intentions.” Jamoheit’s feathers started to puff up at the mention of the fallen and archangel. “I do not think they intended to hurt you. Well… at least I do not believe Malak intended so. Raven has always been a bit of a wildcard. However, I grew up with them, and despite their flaws, they have good hearts. Even Raven, a man that is about as untrustworthy as you can get, has good intentions. It is why, if he fails to win this competition, he will be competing against his father in a duel to become the next ruler of his empire.”

“He is challenging Ramiel? But that’s suicide!” Muzapo blurted out before he could stop himself. Muzapo did his best to ignore the strange looks his peers gave him. Even in his tribal village, Muzapo had been able to locate writings that mentioned Ramiel. This angel was powerful. He had read stories that claimed even the ruler of the angel’s domain could not defeat Ramiel.

“Yes, it probably is, but Raven wants to make a change. His methods are not always the best, but his intentions are good. That is why I think he may not have intended to hurt Zimita. I think he expected all of you to dodge in time. It was more than likely just for show, something to create a facade. But I do not know for sure.”

Silence fell over the group again. Muzapo began to wonder if his earlier assumptions about those around him had been incorrect. Perhaps having one of the angels win would not be so bad. Jamoheit opened his mouth to say something when a shout rose up from within the forest surrounding them. Muzapo shot to his feet, recognizing these echo images as clearer versions of what he had detected before. Several people approached them, riding steeds that made them much taller than Antioch or any of the xokhafels. Their voices were rough, scraping the insides of Muzapo’s ears as his brain desperately tried to translate this foreign language. He did not need a translation to know that these men were not friendly. He could tell from their tones.

“Be careful,” Antioch interjected in a hushed voice as he moved to pick up Zimita in very slow motions. “That is a group of samurai, warriors from this time that you do not want to mess with unless you have a death wish. They probably believe we are yokai of some sort. We need to get away from them, now.” So much for searching for shelter or bidding their time.

“Well, I doubt they’ve seen anything like us before. Let’s try to startle them then bolt,” Jamoheit suggested. “Antioch, carry Zimita and flee as soon as we start to distract them. Muzapo, Quastinami, ready your feathers and tails.” Muzapo felt a small smirk crawl onto his face, knowing exactly what Jamoheit intended to do. Turning to face the samurai, the trio of xokhafels angled their bodies forward and lifted their tails in the air. One of the samurai, presumably the leader, shouted something but it’s not like any of them could understand it. Xokhafels needed a few hours of immersion before they could be fluent in a language. Right now all they could hear was gibberish. “Now!” Jamoheit whispered.

Muzapo opened his tails feathers and began to shake them, letting out a hissing noise as he puffed out his wings as well, attempting to look as big and animalistically intimidating as possible. Quastinami waved their tail wildly in the air, their tail covered in spikes, not feathers. They even launched a few small ones into the ground between the samurai and the three xokhafels as a threat. Though, Jamoheit was probably the most terrifying. With his large amounts of colorful plumage, when he was puffed up and hissing like this, it was an absolutely frightening sight.

While the samurai leader did not seem phased by the display, Muzapo noticed some of the others shifting in their seats. But while it was not frightening to the samurai, this was a heart stopping sight for the steeds they rode. The animals started to make loud braying noises and pulled against the control devices the samurais had on them. The samurais fought against the beasts, attempting to remain in control, but it was not easy. Still, Muzapo felt his heart sink when the animals started to calm down and the samurais drew their swords. Shagena. They were so dead. And then, seemingly unprovoked, one of the animals bucked, slamming its back legs into the rider of another animal. All of the animals went wild again and if there was ever an opportunity to escape, this was it. Folding up their feathers, the trio split into the forest.

Antioch and Zimita were gone, Muzapo hoping they were far enough away to be out of immediate danger. He heard shouts and animal noises followed by loud hoofbeats as the chase began. Jamoheit, Quastinami, and Muzapo stuck close together, they could not risk separating now. They were better off together, as they were less likely to be picked off one by one that way. At least this way they may pose some threat to the samurai.

A high pitched whistle sang through the air before an arrow slammed into a tree next to Quastinami’s head. They yelped in surprise, shouts from far behind them growing in volume in response. Muzapo’s brain scrambled as he tried to figure out what they could do. They could not fly out of here, they would just be shot down. They could not outrun them, the samurai rode those beasts that were already gaining on them. Could they possibly hide? Muzapo felt like that was their only option, but that required them to find a shelter that the samurai either could not reach or would not find them in, which was extremely unlikely.

Another arrow was launched into the ground near Jamoheit’s feet, another shot that was much too close for comfort. Muzapo risked a glance over his shoulder, attempting to get a better echo image, and felt his heart seize up in his chest at the sight of the samurai charging after them on the backs of beasts unlike anything on Alsondysi. Now he really understood why Antioch was afraid of these guys. Muzapo watched as one of the samurais notched another arrow and aimed straight for him. Muzapo forgot to click his tongue out of fear, and everything suddenly went dark all around him. He stumbled over his own feet and tripped, faceplanting into the ground. He desperately starting clicking again, catching the fleeting images of Quastinami and Jamoheit leaving him behind. Panic coursed through Muzapo’s body as he scrambled back to his feet. He started to flee again when a samurai darted out of the woods and cut him off. The surrounded Muzapo, leaving no room for escape. His legs shook underneath him as Muzapo shrunk down, covering his head with his wings and praying for a swift end. He had failed everyone. Would Maykrotot even acknowledge him in the afterlife for failing so badly? Muzapo whimpered, tears forming in his eyes as he heard one of the samurais unsheathe their sword. He dismounted and approached Muzapo, raising the blade. Muzapo stopped clicking. He did not want to see it coming. He waited in a tense, dark silence. But the strike never came.

There was a loud sickening thud and more shouts in their foreign language. Muzapo so wished he could understand what they were saying, but it was complete and utter nonsense. The only word he thought he understood was “tengu”. They kept repeating that word. Was that their word for him? Then came that same disgusting smacking sound again, several times over. Muzapo took a slow breath in then dared to click his tongue. He froze at the sight. Several samurais lay completely still on the ground. He could see arrows sticking out their heads, leading Muzapo to believe they were probably dead. He clicked his tongue a few more times, and after getting no echo images of any living samurai, Muzapo slowly unfolded his arms from his head and stood up.

“Jamoheit! Antioch! Zimita! Quastinami!” Muzapo called out, still terrified out of his mind. He was answered by a soft thump behind him. Muzapo tensed up and turned around to see a man much taller than he standing behind him. Muzapo took a tentative step back and trembled, attempting to perform a traditional xokhafel bow. Maybe this man would spare him if he showed respect? The man said something in his strange language, using that word, “tengu”, again. When Muzapo made no indication of understanding or giving a response, the warrior reached out and touched Muzapo’s shoulder. Muzapo lifted his head and the man offered him a soft smile. Muzapo stared at him curiously before smiling back. The man nodded his head then gestured to Muzapo’s right, in the direction that Jamoheit and Quastinami had run off. He pointed at himself then at Muzapo and then in that direction again.

“Do you want me to follow you?” Muzapo asked in Angelicus. The warrior assumed a perplexed expression before making the gestures again. Muzapo supposed that was a yes, so he nodded his head in understanding. The man gave a short nod of his head, then started walking in that direction, Muzapo following close beside him.

As they walked, Muzapo began to observe the man. He could not discern much because of echolocation limitations, but from what he could see, he could tell this man was obviously a warrior. He carried two swords on his left hip and wore a quiver on his back which contained several arrows. He also held a bow in his left hand. His hair appeared to be pulled back into a bun of sorts and he was wearing what Muzapo presumed to be traditional robes.

“Leave Muzapo alone, you samurai scum!” It was Jamoheit! The alhein leaped out of the trees and unfurled his feathers, taking on the same hissing appearance that he had to distract the samurais earlier. The man narrowed his eyes at Jamoheit and tried to say something in his strange language but when Jamoheit carried on hissing and feinting attacks, the man started to reach for an arrow from his quiver.

“Stop! Jamoheit, this man saved me!” Muzapo shouted as he dashed in between the two. The man paused, releasing the arrow he had started to draw. Jamoheit straightened a little, lowering his tail in confusion.

“He what? Are you sure?” Jamoheit asked, no doubt watching the man’s every move with disbelief and suspicion given the amount of clicking noises he was making. Muzapo nodded his head quickly and pointed to the man’s bow.

“He shot them all with arrows! I don’t know why but he saved me. He’s trying to take me somewhere. I think we can trust him. Please don’t hurt him.” Jamoheit stood in complete silence for a few beats before folding his feathers and calling out,

“Quastinami! It’s okay! We’re safe.” Quastinami lowered their head through the trees before dropping down. They did not look too convinced of their safety but made no sound of protest. Muzapo turned back to the man and pointed at the two other xokhafel. Muzapo then pointed at himself and then at the man. The man looked between the three of them before nodding his head and continuing in the direction he had been leading Muzapo.

The four walked in total silence, the only sounds being those of the nature surrounding them and the constant soft clicks that were allowing the xokhafels to see. The trees slowly became thinner and a clearing opened up revealing a small campsite. Was this where the man lived?

“Hey! Muzapo!” Muzapo perked up at the familiar voice, echo images of Antioch and Zimita sitting on the ground nearby. “You made it! I’m glad this guy was able to find you too.” Muzapo rushed over to Antioch and knelt down next to where the angel was sitting.

“Good, our distraction was enough to save you guys. But what are the odds you guys met this man too?” Muzapo asked. Antioch shrugged.

“Fairly likely given I’m the one that sent him after you.” Antioch gestured for the group to come sit down. Once everyone, including the warrior, was seated, Antioch continued. “Zimita and I ran into this guy while we were fleeing. At first, I thought he was a samurai but I quickly came to realize he is actually a ronin. I managed to convey to him that samurais were chasing us and he went back to fight them off and rescue you.”

“But I thought you said you didn’t understand what the samurais were saying,” Muzapo pointed out. Other than a few words, Antioch had yet to show any understanding of the foreign language.

“That’s because I didn’t. I don’t speak Japanese, or any language even remotely close to it actually. Other than a few specific words, I know nothing. But just saying the word “samurai” was enough to convey my message.”

“Um… Antioch.” Zimita tugged on Antioch’s shirt and whispered, “Now that everyone’s here will you tell me what a ronin is?” Antioch nodded his head and crossed his arms.

“So, a ronin is a samurai that do not have masters. Either their masters have died and they refused to commit seppuku or they fled for some other reason. Ronin are often seen as mercenaries of sorts. During this time period, they are not entirely uncommon.” Antioch paused then added, “And in case you are wondering, seppuku is ritualistic suicide. Samurais are supposed to commit seppuku once their master dies as a show of loyalty to their lord.”

“Tengu.” Muzapo turned his head ever so slightly at the sound of the new voice. It took a moment before Muzapo realized it was the man who had rescued them, the ronin. Muzapo shook his head. Whatever this guy thought they were, they most definitely were not.

“Antioch, what is a tengu? And why do they keep calling us tengu?” Jamoheit said before Muzapo could say anything. Antioch put a hand to his chin, pondering how to answer properly before explaining,

“In short, a tengu is a Japanese spirit. They’re often seen as somewhere between yokai and kami, or supernatural beings and gods. For a while, tengu were seen as creatures that brought signs of war, but later on were viewed as guardians of forests or spiritual people who had died but were not virtuous enough to enter Heaven nor sinful enough to enter Hell. So instead they remained here. We might have landed right around the time period when the image about tengu started to change, hence the varying reactions to us so far. As for why they think we are tengu, it’s quite simple actually. We look like birds. Tengu were often thought to take the form of a man fused with a bird of prey. And since we have wings and sorta look like birds, that makes us tengu, sorta. Just… for now, just go with it. Until you can explain the difference, it’s just easier to go along with it.”

“Well, give us about a day or so and we’ll be fluent in Japanese if this guy keeps talking to us,” Quastinami stated, gesturing towards the ronin. “Though, that would mean we would be two days behind the others. Is everyone okay with that?”

There were nods all around from the group. The group did the best they could to convey to the ronin that they would like to stay in his company for the time being. He did not seem to object to the proposal. That night, the group was forced to pack up and move, Muzapo able to understand Japanese enough to gather that they were technically on the land of what was known as a daimyo. From what Muzapo could grasp, they were feudal lords that were ruthless and hired samurais to kill trespassers, no matter who they were. They were only loyal to the shogunate. After that explanation, everyone agreed to keep on the move was a good idea.

Finally able to open his eyes and get a look at the ronin, Muzapo learned a lot about him that night. His skin was dark, similar in color to the plumage of a thilthana but not quite the same color. His eyes were brown and his robes were blue. His hair was black like the sheaths of his sword, but his bow and quiver were bright red. The ronin’s name was Akio, and he was once a samurai, but after his master was slaughtered, Akio swore revenge and had been traveling in an attempt to gain allies to aid him in his revenge in the future. Once all the xokhafels were fluent in Japanese, the group decided to try and gather some information from Akio about the Kusanagi’s whereabouts. This had some unwanted results.

“Disappeared? What do you mean it’s disappeared?” Jamoheit shouted in an exasperated tone. Akio raised his eyebrows in confusion, unsure as to why Jamoheit seemed so frustrated at this news.

“Yes. I suppose maybe you have not heard since you are forest guardians, but about two hundred years ago, the Kusanagi was lost at sea in Battle of Dan-no-ura in the Genpei War. Supposedly the shogunate has possession of the sword, but no one has been allowed to see it, so many are suspicious.” Akio tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at Jamoheit. “Why the sudden inquiry into one of the Imperial Regalia of Japan?” Jamoheit appeared to start to panic at the question, but thankfully, Quastinami was there to intervene.

“The only way for us to leave Japan is for us to find the Kusanagi, so we were hoping to get some direction as to where it may be so that we could possibly find it and leave Japan.” Akio raised his hand to his chin and closed his eyes, seeming to think over the explanation before nodding his head, a bit convinced.

“It does not seem too unreasonable. Perhaps I could help you further then. We are not far from the city where the blade is supposedly housed. I must keep moving anyway, so heading towards Kyoto may not be a bad idea.”

Muzapo looked around at the others, his heart beating a bit quicker in elation. They had a lead! They were now one step closer to locating the Kusanagi. Given the expressions of those around him, the consensus appeared to be the same for everyone. They were headed to Kyoto to locate the Kusanagi.

Setting up camp a little bit earlier that night, Akio began to work with Antioch and Muzapo on plotting a proper course of action. According to Akio, he believed we were probably a few days from Kyoto, but he would need a map to be sure. The problem was most cartographers only worked with those who had lots of rice to pay for the maps and Muzapo was fairly certain that they did not have any rice. Then again, he was not entirely sure what rice was which threw a monkey wrench into the situation. So, Antioch suggested that they would probably have to steal one. Akio did not seem pleased at the proposition, like at all.

“What do you mean, “he said no”?” Antioch snapped, casting a sharp glare at Akio which the ronin returned.

“Exactly what I said! He doesn’t want to steal a map. It goes against his code of honor as a ronin,” Muzapo explained in an exhausted tone. The downside to his linguistic abilities was that Muzapo was often selected to be the translator, and since Akio and Antioch had proven to not get along very well, it was no longer uncommon for Muzapo to have to translate their fights to each other.

“Ronin don’t have codes of honor. They forsake them when they become a ronin. If he had a code of honor, he’d be a samurai, not a ronin,” Antioch persisted, causing Muzapo to sigh loudly and hang his head a little.

“Can we just come up with some other way to get a map? Perhaps we can ask a daimyo for one? Or just ask for directions?” Muzapo then looked at Akio and translated his proposition into Japanese. His response was immediate.

“No,” both men said. Well, they weren’t getting anywhere anytime soon it seemed. Muzapo stood up and brushed off his hands. He gave both men a disappointed gaze before stating in both Angelicus and Japanese,

“I’m going to take a break to cool off. Behave yourselves. I may be younger than you but I will bring down the hammer if I have to.” With that, Muzapo walked off, deciding to take a stroll. Currently, he would rather be anywhere but here, and he just wanted to be alone. It would probably be wiser to stick close to the camp since dawn was swiftly approaching but Muzapo just wanted to get away. Slowly picking up the pace, Muzapo descended down a hill and noticed the trees starting to thin in numbers. Muzapo stopped when he saw an abrupt ending to the forest. Had they been this close to a town the whole time? Muzapo frowned, debating whether or not to turn back now when the soft beating of wings caught his attention. Muzapo turned his head and sucked in a tight breath. Softly fluttering through the air right beside him was a black and blue butterfly.

At first, Muzapo tensed up. Butterflies were not indigenous to Alsondysi, only moths inhabited the planet, so the sight of one made him uneasy. It reminded him too much of the regime that controlled his home. However, this butterfly did not look like the tortoiseshell butterfly, nor did it seem to pose any threat. Swallowing roughly, Muzapo slowly extended his claws towards the butterfly. It fluttered above them for a second before landing on his claws. Muzapo watched in fascination as it slowly opened and closed its wings. Were all butterflies this nice? Had he been fearing such a gentle creature all this time? Muzapo tilted his head ever so slightly and dimly realized it was somewhat the same with his angel competitors. All his life Muzapo had been taught to fear the angels, but if Antioch’s words from a few days prior were anything to go by, that simply was not true.

Muzapo snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a crunching of leaves on the ground. The alhein swiveled his head towards the sound, making out a small woman through the early morning darkness. He froze, unsure of what to do in this situation. Would she react like the samurais from a few days ago or be more like Akio? The two stared at one another for several silent moments before the woman finally spoke up.

“You’ve met a terrible fate, haven’t you?” Muzapo blinked at the words, the phrase stunning him into silence. The woman unfolded her arms and gestured to the butterfly on his claws. “They say that butterflies only interact with those who have recently suffered a great loss. They carry the souls of our loved ones to the afterlife, bringing comfort to those that remain alive in the process.” Muzapo returned his attention to the black and blue butterfly. Now that he looked at it, the pattern on the insect’s wings was just like the pattern on Maykrotot’s left horn. Eleven shiny blue spots, neatly lined across the butterfly’s wing, just like the eleven shiny blue spots that had neatly lined in a column down Maykrotot’s horn. Before Muzapo could prevent them, tears began to trickle down his cheeks.

“Maykrotot…” he whispered, starting to shake as he choked out a sob. “I’m so sorry,” Muzapo mumbled as he shook his head. “It should have been me. It should have been me!” The butterfly’s wings stopped fluttering as if it were observing Muzapo’s actions. The woman watched in silence, not moving, but now she had a small smile on her face.

“We all experience terrible fates such as these. It is a part of life. We must respect and keep these tragedies in mind, but we must also never linger on them for too long. Mourn, but move on. You should not waste your life lingering on the life of another.” Muzapo sniffled and looked back at the woman. He lowered his eyes ever so slightly and protested,

“But it’s my fault he’s dead! I was supposed to be protecting him. He was going to be our homeland’s savior. But I failed and now he’s dead. It’s all my fault.” The woman solemnly shook her head and once again gestured to the butterfly resting on Muzapo’s claws.

“Do you think he would have come to find and bring you comfort if he thought it was your fault?” Muzapo paused, thinking over the woman’s words. Was that true? Was anything she said true? Had Maykrotot come to find him because he knew that Muzapo would feel this was his fault? That did seem like something his brother would do. How many times in the past had Maykrotot comforted Muzapo when he had been sad? Muzapo had long since lost count. But that didn’t change the fact that this was exactly the kind of thing that Maykrotot would have done for Muzapo if he knew his brother was harboring his guilt inside of him.

“Why do you not flee at the sight of me?” Muzapo asked, curious as to why the woman had stayed rather than attempted to attack him or flee.

“When I first set eyes on you in the darkness, I thought you were a malicious creature and I had prepared to exorcise you using my prayer beads. However, as I drew closer, I noticed how you looked at the butterfly, the guilt that clouded your eyes, and the sadness that consumed your expression as you stood there, so focused and deep in thought. I realized you could not be a creature of mal intent, the way those emotions of regret hung onto your expression. So I saw no reason to hurt you. I hope that was not an ill placed faith of mine.” Muzapo quickly shook his head and glanced back at the butterfly as it started to flutter its wings again.

“I mean no harm. My friends and I are simply trying to find our way home. I became frustrated while arguing with them and decided to take a walk.” Muzapo lifted his eyes to the priestess once again. “Perhaps you could help us? We are trying to find our way to Kyoto, but we are hopelessly lost without a map, and none of us believe we would be able to purchase one without being struck down upon entering a village first.” The woman chuckled in understanding and gestured for Muzapo to follow her.

“I can get you a map. Please, follow me.” Muzapo started to move after the woman when the butterfly suddenly took flight. Muzapo started to reach out for it, only for the butterfly to land in the curve of his right horn. Muzapo smiled, glad to know Maykrotot felt right at home there. Tagging along behind the woman, they entered the village as dawn began to illuminate it. They moved swiftly towards the largest building in the town near the center. It was a large wooden building with a foundation of stones. Muzapo noted how small everything else was, similar to his own home village. Were these people poor too?

The woman led him inside a wooden building that smelled of fire and something else that Muzapo could not place. She gestured for him to stay put and the priestess ventured into the back. Muzapo tapped his talons against the floor anxiously, a hollow wooden sound echoing throughout the building as Muzapo looked around the inside of the building. It was filled with golden statues and weird little smoking sticks. Muzapo wondered what sort of purpose this building served in their society. His village had no structures like this, but he imagined it was meant to be somewhat of a reverent place given all the statues. The woman returned a moment later with a piece of parchment in his hands. It had obvious ink stains on it from what Muzapo could see. He held out his hand but the priestess does not put the map in his hand just yet. Instead, she strikes the floor with her foot and suddenly a trap door opened underneath Muzapo. Muzapo instinctively grabbed onto the edges of the floor, trying to keep himself from falling in. He caught an evil glint in the woman’s eye as she stomped on his hands, causing Muzapo to lose his grip and tumble into the dark underground below.

Muzapo’s body crashed into the stony ground below. He groaned, scrapes and bruises no doubt covering his body now. He sat up, rubbing the back of his head and glanced around. He heard the soft beats of the butterfly’s wings as it fluttered above him then returned to its perch on Muzapo’s right horn. Muzapo squinted a little as he spotted two familiar shapes off to the side.

“Who goes there? Who else did that witch catch?” a voice shouted in Japanese. Muzapo blinked a few times before realizing it was Raven and Malak sitting off to the side. The two angels looked less than pleased to be here. They also could not see him in the thick darkness of the basement. Night vision for the win. Muzapo stood up and winced before somewhat limping over to the two competitors.

“It’s me, Muzapo. How did you get down here? Did she trick you too?” Muzapo asked in Angelicus. Raven folded his arms and huffed loudly before shrugging a little in obvious annoyance.

“After we ditched you lot, Malak and I realized we had no clue where we were going or what we were doing. So we decided to try and ask for directions,” Raven explained, switching back to Angelicus as well. “As you can imagine, that went over less than smoothly. We were chased by some villagers and fled, flying for a while before ending up in this village. It seemed pretty abandoned other than this old lady and a retired warrior. They welcomed us, fed us, and offered to give us a map to help us on our way to Kyoto. But before they gave us the map I got whacked in the back of the head and when I woke up I was down here with Malak and a bunch of bones.”

“The same for me,” Malak added softly.

“Why not just bust out then?” Muzapo asked, a little chilled at the thought that they had all been tricked so easily. He saw Malak shake his head. The archangel narrowed his eyes ever so slightly and sighed loudly.

“There’s something supernatural about those two. We tried to break out earlier. Raven never even made it out of the room. I stepped foot outside before suddenly getting devoured by… something. Then we were back down here. You’re welcome to try again, but something tells me that you won’t be any more successful than us.”

Muzapo scratched his head and glanced around the basement. It was made entirely of stone from what Muzapo could see. Now that he thought about it, hadn’t the base of the building been made of individual stones too? Flapping his wings, Muzapo ascended a bit before grabbing onto the wall and digging his talons in as best he can. Climbing to the top, Muzapo began to shake some of the stones in hopes of wiggling some of them loose. It took a bit of shaking, but finally, several stones came free and clattered to the ground, causing Raven to shout as one hit him. Muzapo hissed at Raven to be quiet before glancing around outside. He squinted his eyes, the growing daylight making it difficult for him to see. But it was a start.

“Guys! If we get enough rocks free from the wall we might be able to sneak out without them noticing,” Muzapo suggested. Malak grumbled something to himself that gave Muzapo the impression the archangel was not up for that idea. Raven sat in silence for a moment before standing and flying up next to Muzapo.

“If it gets me out of here and gets me to somewhere where there’s good to eat then I’ll try just about anything. Otherwise, I gotta eat Malak just to get him to stop complaining.” Muzapo chuckled quietly at the joke as the two began to work at pulling the rocks free from their foundation. After a few minutes of work, the two had a hole large enough for them to slip through. “Malak! Get off your lazy butt and get up here. Or else we’re going to leave you.” Muzapo watched as Malak remained still for a few moments before groaning loudly and standing up. Unfolding his large wings, the archangel flew up to the others and one by one they began to climb out. Muzapo immediately closed his eyes and began to click, the sunlight strong enough to disorient him now. That was when he saw them.

“Watch out!” Muzapo shouted, shoving Malak to the ground as the man Raven had mentioned earlier came out of nowhere and slashed with a sword through the air. His echo image vanished, but Muzapo knew the man was no gone. Now it made sense. “They’re ghosts of some sort,” he surmised. Standing up, Muzapo felt a rush of heat as Malak summoned his flaming sword. Raven adjusted his hand position and his bow formed. Muzapo did not have a weapon, so instead of the xokhafel opted to look as intimidating as possible by leaning forward, puffing up his feathers and tail, and hissing. Though with a butterfly on his horn, Muzapo thought the effect might be somewhat lost.

A soft breeze blew through the town and not even a mouse stirred. Then hell broke loose. The ghost man charged from the side again. Raven released an arrow that skimmed the man’s shoulder, causing the ghost to spin and change course for Malak. Big mistake. The archangel lifted his head then spun and slashed with his flaming sword straight through the man. The ghost screamed as the holy flames burned him through. Malak made the sign of the cross then turned to Muzapo and Raven, who were currently frozen in utter fear of Malak’s power.

“Remind me not to cross you unless I want to exorcised anytime soon,” Raven breathed out before glancing around. Notching another arrow, Raven frowned. There was no sign of the fake priestess anywhere. Muzapo clicked his tongue more rapidly, desperately trying to find some echo image of her when he felt something cold wrap around his waist. “Muzapo!” Raven shouted as the xokhafel was rocketed back into the fake temple, breaking through the wooden wall and thrown to the ground. Muzapo cried out in pain and opened his eyes instinctively as he felt a crack in his left shoulder. Given the immense amount of pain he was feeling, Muzapo guessed he had probably just dislocated it. Candidly speaking, he was surprised he hadn’t hurt it earlier but he wasn’t complaining.

The lady leaned over him, her appearance much more menacing than before. Her inky black hair waved in the air all around her as her narrow red eyes stared him down. Muzapo flinched as droll dropped down on him from between the ghost’s razor sharp teeth. Still, she was just a ghost. Perhaps she was faking the appearance? Muzapo slashed at her with his claws while stifling back a gasp in pain. The woman recoiled to dodge, giving Muzapo a chance to stand up, only to be knocked to the side again by the woman’s strong arms. Crashing into the wall, Muzapo groaned loudly, his consciousness beginning to swim. Everything started to go dark when he saw his blue butterfly fluttering in the air between him and the ghost.

“Maykrotot! No get out of there! She’ll destroy you.” Instead, the butterfly continued to dance through the air, as if it were trying to say that the ghost would have to get through it first before she could hurt Muzapo any further. The woman hissed at the butterfly and licked her lips before charging at it. A bright burst of light erupted from the butterfly, blinding Muzapo for a moment. When his senses reoriented, Muzapo felt his breath leave his body in shock at the sight before him.

Surrounding the butterfly was a translucent alhein xokhafel. He was larger than Muzapo and bore distinctly red and blue colored plumage. His skin was a similar shade to Muzapo’s and he wore black shorts. There were dark blue stripes all along his legs, arms, neck, and face, while his eyes were a bright neon green. He had shaggy dark blue hair that matched his stripes and curled down past his ears, almost masking the purple earring that hung from his left ear. His left horn was jagged and bright gold, almost mimicking the formation of a lightning bolt. His right horn held a soft curve with a bright neon splash on it, just like Muzapo’s horn. It was Maykrotot!

The spirit of Muzapo’s older brother glanced over his shoulder as he held the older ghost woman back by digging his talons into the floor and his claws into her shoulders. Maykrotot smiled at Muzapo before returning his attention to the woman. Roaring, he bit into the woman’s neck then throttled her, pinning the ghost to the ground. Maykrotot raised his claws and slashed the woman across the throat. Her image faded then vanished from view. Maykrotot stood up, the butterfly flittering around in his chest. He offered another smile to Muzapo and opened his mouth to say something, but Muzapo passed out before he could hear it.

***

Muzapo sat up suddenly with a loud gasp. Pain racked through his whole body and he instantly regretted sitting up so quickly. At least it was night. The experience would have resulted in a much more painful headache during the day. Muzapo let out another a long whine in pain, the sound drawing the attention of those nearby.

“He’s awake!” Antioch shouted loud enough for all those scattered around the campsite to hear as he rushed over to Muzapo’s side. Muzapo suddenly found himself surrounded by Antioch, Jamoheit, Quastinami, Zimita, Raven, Akio, and Malak. He looked them over in confusion. How had they met up? How had he gotten here? Where was Maykrotot? “Glad to see you’re okay. You’re probably really confused. Raven, would you like to explain?”

“I would love to.” The fallen angel leaned forward ever so slightly and grinned at Muzapo. “After you got dragged into the temple, another ghost showed up, a demon or something that was pretty powerful. Malak couldn’t one shot this one so we had to work together to fight it off. It wasn’t too hard to beat though, but we were still worried about you so we rushed inside the temple. And what do we find but you and that butterfly of yours have defeated that ghost lady all on your own. I never took you for much of a fighter, Muzapo, so color me impressed.” Muzapo started to open his mouth to protest but Raven continued talking, not allowing interruptions. “Still, you were not in good shape, so Malak and I picked you up and started to look around. We figured if you were here then someone else had to be close by. And sure enough, your little ragtag campsite was just a short flight away. Malak also swiped the map too, so good things all around.”

“Muzapo? Are you okay? You look a little pale,” Zimita said, concern flashing in their eyes. Muzapo hesitated to answer. From what it sounded like, Maykrotot had disappeared by the time Raven and Malak had appeared. He would probably sound completely insane telling the story of what actually happened. If the situation was reversed he would have a hard time believing someone telling him the story that the butterfly carrying the soul of his previously murdered brother had transformed into said brother and kicked a ghost priestess’s butt to save his life. In fact, just repeating it in his own head made Muzapo wonder if that is what actually happened.

“Yeah, just trying to process everything. Speaking of which, the butterfly that was with me, where is it?” Zimita gave Muzapo a strange look before pointing with their claws to the air above Muzapo. He could hear the soft wing beats as the butterfly drew closer, slowly descending to land in Muzapo’s lap. He slowly opened and closed his blue and black wings, and Muzapo smiled at the sight, a wave of comfort washing over him. “Thank you, all of you, for caring about me. But I think it’s time we continue on our mission. Now that we’ve got a map, it’s time to head to Kyoto.”

Cheers rose up from the group at the instructions. Muzapo watched as Maykrotot the butterfly took flight again. His blue wings shown brilliantly in the moonlight as he danced through the sky. A wide smile spread across Muzapo’s slim face as, for the first time in his life, Muzapo gazed at the stars.

[LKWayvern]

Thank you for your submissions. Week 1/2 is now closed. I will try to get grades out by Monday/Tuesday.
And now you get the opportunity to begin working on your Week 3/4 prompt!

Once Upon a Dream. Dreams and nightmares are something I personally find utterly fascinating. Impossible things can occur within them, and yet they are sometimes to some extent shaped by reality. In fiction, dreams of the future or of past lives sometimes occur. My favorite comic even takes place most in the realm of dreams. There are so many ways that these stories can go! But of course, there must be certain parameters.
1) And I Am Your Darkest Nightmare Too. Tell the story from the perspective of the villain!
2) I Dream in Colors. Be it dancing, singing, writing, or painting, have a character who is some kind of artist.

[Noblejanobii]

Question. When you say perspective of the villain, does that mean first person is required or can we still use third person?

[LKWayvern]

You can still use third person. I've seen ways that third person's still told from one character's perspective.

[Morzone]

Kind of bummed I couldn't get the first 2 weeks writing in in time, but oh well. it would have suffered if I'd rushed it.

Anyway, I have a question for the 2nd two weeks. Does the entirety of the story have to be from the perspective of the villain? I was thinking of a perspective change right at the very end to give a certain effect, but I wasn't sure If I needed to stick with the villain through the whole story.

[LKWayvern]

I'd prefer if the perspective was from someone decidedly not on the hero's side for the entire story, be it a single person or multiple people. But if that's what the majority of the story is told from, I suppose it could be from the hero's or one of their friend's perspectives for a short time.

[Morzone]

Alright, I'll see if I can tweak my plot line so I can keep it from the bad-guy's side of things.

[LKWayvern]

Judging

So before this starts, the Prankster Platoon gets 50 points as compensation for the very difficult task of judging these wonderful fics--
Yeah I’m joking they’re terrible.
...Still joking. They’re wonderful and as the only two competitors you’ll both be getting absurdly high amounts of points.

Side note, I decided to ramble for pages about my comments on both stories before actually judging things.

Chronoshock
By Neo Emolga of the Steel Scavengers

You begin in media res, which is good for grabbing attention. I was most certainly interested in who these people were, what on earth was going on, why they were fighting, and most importantly how on earth Raxo would manage to survive this.
The first few paragraphs, it was a bit difficult to tell what was going on. It was very easy to tell that Raxo was in dire straits. That said, it was a bit easy to empathize with him. I didn’t know his teammates, his relationship with Headquarters, exactly how significant this was beyond life and death… For a short while I actually thought Raxo was some kind of illegal medical experiment meant to be a weapon, but when I heard about ‘mission’ and ‘HQ’ I did realize that it was a military operation.
Once you did start explaining about the war and the nuclear winter, then I started to fully appreciate how high the stakes actually were. Extinction of not just a single species, but all mammals on that world-- as a mammal myself that sounds incredible in a terrifying way. Most of your exposition seemed to flow with Raxo’s thoughts rather naturally, so it didn’t feel like that much of an exposition dump to me. On the flip side, however, I was rather confused about what exactly Vexo was.
On another note, I would’ve liked to know why exactly it was that Anironica disliked manascript. Do they just not like magic in general? Are there superstitions surrounding it? Has manascript backfired dramatically in the past?
I did like the idea of using technology to use spells and the like, though. Big fan of mixing fantasy and science fiction over here. I would’ve loved to learn more about how exactly it works, because one of my absolute favorite things about worldbuilding(and one of my favorite things about stories is worldbuilding) is seeing how one can make fantasy make sense with pseudoscience.
Now, moving on to my favorite part of your entry. Azurana.
Little known fact. While I love time travel, and shows like Doctor Who, I’m not a big fan of ‘laws of time’ or ‘guardians of the timestream’ types. Mostly because they don’t really define what counts as meddling with the timestream too much, or they say you can’t do something because the consequences are paradoxes, but they’re not very specific in terms of what the paradoxes are or why, exactly, they’re bad.
That said… No contest, Azurana’s my favorite ‘guardian of time’ type.
Why? Because the reason she’s trying to prevent Raxo from going back in time actually makes sense to me. I have never ever, seen memory loss as a direct result of travelling through time, so kudos for originality. And Azurana trying to prevent Raxo from doing it because it would be totally futile, like I said. It’s far more interesting and is makes more sense than vague paradoxes.
I feel as though the conversation/battle between Azurana and Raxo was a bit rushed at times. Or, not the fight. Mostly the revelation of taking things with you into the afterlife onwards. He seems to believe her a bit too quickly, but since the climax kind of passed at that point I understand you trying to wrap things up. And I did like the idea of Raxo learning from Azurana and reviving the practice of magic.
On a separate note, the battle made me curious again about how magic works. How does technology activate it? What limits does it have? Could it be used the other way around, to power technology?
Doubt those questions would be answered, sadly.
Anyways, enough rambling. Onto the grading.

Originality: 10 points. Like I mentioned before, definitely the first time I’ve seen time travel used in this way. Love it to bits.

Characters: 10 points. I loved Azurana so much, even though Raxo didn’t stand out very much to me. The amount of characters you had seemed a little closed off, too.

Coherency: 14 points. The story flowed very smoothly from start to finish.

Spelling and Grammar: 13 points. I saw no obvious errors.

Total: 47 points!

The Butterfly Epoch
By Noblejanobii of the Gracidea Order

Another beginning in media res, but this one clears up what happens much faster. Still all the new terms pertaining to xokhafel culture were a bit difficult to understand at first, I first thought thilthana might be a third species, making Vasnika a three-way hybrid.
That little paragraph did explain the contest, Haskotte, and the Angel Regime rather well, though.
I said this before, but worldbuilding is my favorite thing about reading and writing. And here you were, using a world and species that I have never seen before. And you did rather well in preventing it from being chock-full of exposition dumps. I was totally fascinated but all the little tidbits you included about their biology, or culture, or mythology, or history.
I think you did a rather nice job of introducing Antioch and Rox at that moment, introducing them later would’ve made it a bit awkward. Also there were just little cues in the way they spoke the xokhafel language that, while not immediately apparent, did convey that they weren’t 100% fluent in it. I liked that.
On that note I found Muzapo’s ability to rapidly learn language very interesting. It’s not a talent or power one sees very often, and yet it’s a very interesting and useful one.
Even though he was in no true danger I assume, you still did well with showing Muzapo’s trepidation after being ‘kidnapped’ by Haskotte.
And one little note. It was a bit hard to remember which members of Haskotte were which at first, but I really like the xokhafel’s names. They just seem so foreign, and I keep wondering if any of them have a meaning in their language, or if they’re named after someone?
Hmph. Haskotte’s kind of mean, aren’t they? Perhaps this rebellion isn’t as black and white as I thought it was, especially with Antioch and Rox being so nice.
After they got off Muzapo’s back about him maybe being responsible for Maykrotot’s death, I liked Habiltis better.
I found the interaction between that angel attendant and Muzapo rather amusing, and of course I liked the bit of explanation on xokhafel biology with their eyes and echolocation, and a reminder on what was so bad about the Angel Regime.
While I do like that not every angel is evil incarnate, because that makes for rather flat antagonists, I feel that having most of the angels encountered thus far be either nice or simply feeling superior… Well, lessens the threat felt by them, if that makes sense? I mean, the fact that they’re dominating is in the name, Angel Regime. And yet, until now, it’s a little hard to see the negative effects of their rule.
So, Raven and Malak. I’ll admit, while it was a relief that they both turned out to be good in the end… It was also a slight letdown. It decreased the consequences of loss, somewhat. However, since obtaining the kusanagi and winning the competition presumably happens after the end of the story, I’m a bit more okay with it, I suppose. And I would’ve liked it a bit more if they themselves had shown that they were good, instead of Antioch just telling the others. I feel it would’ve been a bit more emotional, had some more weight to it.
That said, I did like how Raven and Malak made a show of trying to prevent some of the xokhafels from reaching the portal. And I really liked your description of Queen Vasnika, she sounded divine!
I loved how you described Muzapo and the other trying to deal with Zimita’s injury. The fact that Muzapo and the other xokhafels can’t see it due to the daylight and Antioch is unfamiliar with xokhafel biology adds an extra layer of difficulty to it all that I liked.
And here we come to stars, and Hamilton references. Noble, I’m sorry, but I feel really conflicted about this part. I loved hearing the xokhafel’s superstitions and history concerning stars. And Hamilton is one of my favorite musicals. But I really don’t think a reference like that worked here. It’s similar to something that Lin Manuel Miranda mentioned nearly doing but not in Hamilton: The Revolution. I remember in one of the side-notes in Say No to This, he mentioned almost putting a reference to another rap instead of ‘I hadn’t slept in a week, I was weak, I was awake/You never seen a bastard orphan more in need of a break’. But while he knew the audience would probably love it, it was a serious moment in the musical so a reference probably wasn’t the best thing. I think the same thing applies here. The Hamilton fan in me loved the reference, but it was Muzapo recounting a serious moment in his planet’s history, the moment when his species was basically enslaved. As amusing as a sem-parody was, it spoiled the mood.
You mention the Angel Regime dominating other worlds. I’d love to hear about their home world, and how they rule other planets that they’ve dominated…
Now onto my favorite scene here. I love how you handled the encounter with the samurai. Even though Muzapo has a talent with languages, he still needs time to figure it out, and you portrayed both the language barrier and Muzapo very slowly working through it quite nicely. I also found the way that Muzapo, Quastinami, and Jamoheit used physical intimidation to try to scare off the samurai to be a nice touch too-- it was almost like another bit of worldbuilding, seeing how xokhafels try to scare off predators.
Muzapo’s musings with the butterfly… I liked this scene quite a bit, too. He starts to realize how harmless butterflies are, reflecting how most of the angels he’s met at this point are trying to change things on Andolysi for the better.
Perhaps it was adrenaline, but after Haskotte left him alone, Muzapo seemed to forget about his sorrow over Maykrotot, and it just returns in full force in this scene…
Ah, that’s where Raven and Malak went.
Malak made the sign of the cross, you mentioned. Raises some more worldbuilding questions for me. Are these angels aliens of a kind, or are they the ones mentioned in the Bible and created by God? Or did they arrive on Earth and inspire the angels in the Bible, even if it’s not necessarily an accurate reflection of their culture and creation?
The butterfly revealing itself as Maykrotot and defeating the ghost. I love this scene so much.
This feels less like a one-shot ending, and more like the end of the first episode in a TV show if that makes any sense to you? The exposition’s been set, the immediate problem has been solved, but the overarching problem is definitely still there. The adventure has just begun, everyone’s psyched for the journey. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, though if you ever did write a sequel I would most certainly be interested in reading it.
Welp. You could probably figure out your own grading from Neo’s post if you really wanted, since what points he doesn’t get, you do. But here we go.

Originality: 15 points. While I liked Neo’s time travel/fantasy science fiction mashup a bit more, you went the extra mile with a whole new species and planet that had plenty of amazing worldbuilding.

Characters: 15 points. You had a very wide range of characters with different personalities, backgrounds, and skillsets to play with. Most of the main ones ended up with the same goals and intentions, but there was definitely variety and at times conflict, which I liked quite a bit.

Coherency: 11 points. While the story did flow rather smoothly and I could tell what was going on, there were a few moments where unfamiliar terminology temporarily tripped me up.

Spelling and grammar: 12 points. I did notice a few typos, but they didn’t detract my enjoyment or understanding of the story.

Total: 53 points!

Well, this was most certainly fun! Can't wait to see what everyone comes up with next week!

Neo Emolga Noblejanobii

[LKWayvern]

A friendly reminder of the imminent Time of Judgement.

[Noblejanobii]

Predestination

I silently ascended the stairs of the tall hotel building. My long Egyptian blue robes brushed against the steps, their swishing sound echoing through the stairwell. I kept my head straight, not wishing to disturb the small golden circlet that rested on my head and pressed a cold red jewel into the center of my forehead. According to my father, it was meant to assist with my training, but I found it more of a nuisance than anything else. Unfolding my hands from inside my obnoxiously long sleeves, I pushed one of my blue hairs back into place as I reached the top step. Taking a deep breath, I gently pushed open the door to the roof.

My robes began to whip around in the not winds that swept across the roof of the hotel building. I scanned across the roof. At one edge of the roof, her royal highness of Alsondysi and her royal guard stood. Next to them stood two other men. The taller of the two men had dark violet hair and sunset orange eyes with a violet stripe for the pupil. He was wearing robes that looked exactly like mine, save for the fact that they were violet to match his hair. He was also wearing a circlet, albeit a much more elaborate one that looked much like a crown of thorns with a red jewel centering on his forehead. My eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of him. This seer was Parlim Jirapat, my father.

I did not know the name of the other man that stood next to Parlim, but I knew this was most likely the head seer for the Alsondysi angel regime. His hair was a bright imperial purple, with solid white eyes and a pupil stripe that matched his eyes. Unlike Parlim and myself, however, this seer bore no circlet. Instead, the man wore a simple silver coronet with a single blue jewel in the center piece just above his forehead. His head lifted slightly as I stepped onto the roof and he signaled me over with a gesture of his wrinkled ghastly white hand.

I swiftly made my way across the roof, casting a quick glance to the other edge. I saw three xokhafels, the natives of this planet, along with three angels. I felt his pulse slightly accelerate when one of the angels started to turn around. I averted my gaze and kept my course towards my father and the Alsondysi seer. I slowed my pace once I reached them and tilted my head forward in a simple seer bow.

“So you are Parlim’s son. I have heard so much about you, Michaelangelo,” the Alsondysi seer said in a crisp yet unsettling voice. “Please to make your acquaintance, I am Seray Profítis, though you probably recognize me as the head seer for the angel regime of Alsondysi.” Before I received the chance to reply, Seray returned his attention to Parlim. “So, Parlim, tell me, did you hear the news about the old seer from Xiawtis?”

“No, I can’t say I have. Did the old coot finally pass?” Parlim asked in reply.

“Indeed. They’re even erecting a statue of him. The Kapli legacy is secure. And all he had to do is die.”

“Yes, that’s a lot less work.”

“We ought to give it a try.” The two men chuckled at the fantastic joke passed between the two. Candidly, I somewhat wished my father would take action on that advice. It would certainly make my life a bit easier.

I found my gaze starting to stray across the roof again. Before I could prevent it, I made eye contact with the dashingly handsome half-angel standing on the opposing edge of the roof. I quickly pulled my eyes away, but not quickly enough. I caught a glimpse of the man’s face lighting up in excitement. Parlim noticed my sudden movements and looked across the roof. I could feel the seething glare drilling into the side of my head from my father, but ignored it for now. Worst case, I would get a scolding later.

“So, Parlim,” Seray started again, “tell me, why are you really here? Surely you have not chosen to take a vacation now. The world you advise for is almost in the midst of another world war. I hardly call this the appropriate time to take a break.”

“Please, Seray now is the perfect time to take a vacation. If I may speak candidly off the record, the latest president those Americans elected is giving me quite the headache. It is almost as if the man himself is a seer, for every time I summon a vision with a peaceful ending to his reign, the man always manages to do the one thing that prevents that vision from occurring. It is almost humorous how many futures this one man has been able to foil.” Parlim waved his hand in the air before lowering his voice. “But you would be correct, I am not here on vacation. Two nights ago, my son received a vision that I intend to prevent.” Seray’s Imperial purple eyes slid over to me and lingered on my solemn expression for a moment before returning to Parlim.

“What future did the young seer witness?” Seray asked in a hushed tone. I turned my head so that I could view the princess that stood not too far away on the rooftop. She was beautiful but much less so than the one that would return with the item she requested in hand.

“He saw the end of this event, and it was not desirable.” Seray put a hand on his chest and a gasp escaped his lips. That was enough context to answer Seray’s question. Two nights prior, I received a vision of a xokhafel with a large chest and bright plumage that held all the colors of the rainbow. They were the one to return bearing the Kusanagi, showing that despite the injury they had suffered before their journey had even begun, they were the one destined to win the heart of Princess Vasníka.

“But that cannot be,” Seray whispered in response, his voice now holding a much harsher note to it. “We ensured two of the best angel bachelors were selected. We replaced the previously envisioned victor. And we included the fallen because we knew he would be the one to take out the spineless servants. We just saw him nearly take out one now! How can this be?”

“I do not know, Seray,” Parlim snarled back in a whisper. “But we are going to ensure it does not happen. If one of those inbreds manages to become the next king, it was disastrous not only to the image of the empire but also could have repercussions we could never anticipate. Imagine, servant species of all kinds from all sorts of planets and galaxies hearing that it is possible for them to become a royal. They will gain the one thing that is currently preventing them from rebelling against the regime currently, hope.” I slid my black and blue eyes back to my father and Seray. They both wore hardened expressions, like two men about to head off to war. In many ways, I anticipated that was exactly what they were about to do.

“Who all have been informed of this?” Seray implored.

“Beyond myself, my son, and you, only the current King of Alsondysi and the ruling council know of the matter. Not even the Princess is aware of her fate yet. I was initially going to inform her as well, but her father thought it best to do otherwise. Given her previous decisions, he feared that she would be overjoyed to hear that one of those was going to succeed in procuring her hand. We are currently working on a plan to change this, but we have yet to work out all the details. There is little we can do when it comes to disposing of them now that the three angels and four scum have entered the portal, but we are working on a few contingencies.” Parlim paused in his words and reached out, placing a cold hand on my left shoulder. “Son, why don’t you leave us for now. Perhaps it would be better for you to explore Alsondysi while we are here. I will summon you when I need you to return.”

“Yes, Father. Thank you for this opportunity of free time.” I bowed to Parlim and Seray before briskly walking away towards the door to exit the roof. Barely turning my head, my black and blue eyes met the brown eyes of a certain someone across the roof. A silent message passed between the two of us before I exited the roof and began to descend down the stairs. Now out of my father’s sight, I broke into a very ungraceful run. I rushed down the stairs with a certain eagerness bubbling within me. When I reached the first floor, I resumed my regal facade, but could barely contain my excitement when I saw the love of my life standing just outside the lobby of the hotel.

“Good evening to you, Rox Argo,” I said as I approached. The half-angel turned his head to me, his shaggy strawberry blonde hair falling in his eyes as the goofiest of grins spread across his face.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming to Alsondysi. Something about a competition for a lady’s hand in marriage is very boring,” Rox remarked in a somewhat mocking tone. I snorted a little, knowing the man was messing with me.

“Things change, as do opinions. Come, shall we take a walk?” Rox gestured forward, allowing me to lead the way. The two of us walked in silence through the night. There were few xokhafels out despite the fact that this was usually their species' most active time. Perhaps it was due to this being a city largely run by diurnals. I turned my head slightly as we ventured deeper into the city, examining the pristine white buildings and well-lit streets. This place was definitely built under the direction of angels. I stopped walking after a moment, having spotted a small alleyway nearby. I silently indicated towards it with my head, then walked with Rox into the alley. My heartbeat started to speed up as we reached the end of the corridor. I felt Rox’s hands grabbing onto my shoulders as I was spun around.

Rox’s lips crashed onto mine as the half angel pressed me against the wall. I reached up and wrapped my arms around Rox’s neck, passion pumping through my veins like an adrenaline substitute. I felt myself being lifted up against the wall, Rox attempting to compensate for the two feet in height difference between us. After a moment, I pulled away for air, gasping a bit as Rox began to chuckle.

“How many days has it been, Mikey?”

“Rox, please, control yourself. It has only been two weeks.” I shivered as Rox brushed his lips against my throat. Curse this man and his suave ways. He was a weakness if I ever had one.

“I know, but I’ve missed my little visionary. It’s not fair, touring with Antioch and seeing all these beautiful places without you by my side. On the bright side, I have found so many good places where we could elope to. Saljuob was especially beautiful and had such a diverse population, we would blend in so easily.” I gently pushed my lover away with a quiet sigh.

“Rox, we’ve talked about this-” I stopped when I saw Rox’s expression fall. My heart cracked a little and I reached out, stroking my boyfriend’s cheek with my hand. “I’m just… I’m not ready yet. And I have no idea when I ever will be.” I lowered his gaze to the ground when I felt Rox’s arm pull me ever so slightly closer. Rox lifted my chin so our eyes met and I was somewhat surprised to see a smile on the other’s face.

“Hey, don’t be upset. It’s okay, Mikey.” I felt Rox’s hand brush through my blue hair. “Remember, that’s our dynamic. I rush into things, you think things through. You just let me know when the appropriate time is. Better yet, why don’t you have a vision about it! Predict my future, oh wise seer!” I started to laugh at the comment, leaning my head against Rox’s shoulder.

“Oh my gosh, Rox, you’re so stupid.” I reached up and wiped my eyes before noticing movement behind Rox. I leaned to the side to catch a better look and spotted a xokhafel standing at the other end of the alleyway. “Rox,” I hissed quietly. The half-angel straightened a bit and turned around. At the entrance of the corridor, the xokhafel tilted their head. I could hear a soft clicking sound echoing from the mouth of the stranger. Strange, I thought, couldn’t xokhafel see at night with no difficulty. Then again, this xokhafel had blue eyes. Weren’t their eyes usually green? Given the chest covers this xokhafel was wearing and the semi-brilliant plumage it had, I guessed that this was a betsweis xokhafel or the hermaphrodites of the species. Their horns were both angled downward, the right one taking on a solid black color with a spiral shape reminiscent of a conch shell while the left was bright gold with red speckles and just angled straight downward.

“An inbred,” I heard Rox whisper. I narrowed my eyes in confusion at Rox and heard the xokhafel gasp in offense.

“I am not inbred, sir! My eyesight is merely the unfortunate consequence of a difficult pregnancy for my mother,” they cried. Huffing, the betsweis crossed their arms across their chest. After a moment of silence, the betsweis returned their gaze to the two. “You, the angel, are Rox Argo, correct?” Rox nodded his head without a second thought, causing me to worry. He may have no chance at the throne but Rox was still a prince. He needed to be more careful about just giving out his name. I saw the betsweis extend their hand and signal for Rox and me to follow them. “I must request you come with me. There’s important information I must speak with you about.”

I was about to protest when Rox started to walk down the alleyway. I reached out and grabbed Rox’s shirt, but instead of stopping, Rox continued walking, dragging me along. The seer stumbled and yanked on Rox’s shirt. The half-angel paused and glanced at me.

“It’s okay. I have a feeling I can trust this xokhafel.” I furrowed my brows in confusion as Rox returned his attention to the betsweis at the entrance of the alleyway. “Hey, you’re the blue eyed xokhafel that Muzapo said he’s friends with, correct?” The xokhafel paused in their clicking, tilting their head before nodding a little.

“Yes. Muzapo and I are fairly close. I was closer with Maykrotot than Muzapo, but we were friends nonetheless.” They folded their arms across their chest and their mouth drew in a straight line. “You’re Rox Argo, younger half brother of Antioch Argo, the heir to Earth’s throne, though it will never be yours.” I cast a glare at the betsweis. They knew too much. But Rox was too much of stubborn fool to not trust them.

Rox smirked at the stranger’s words. He continued forward, causing me to release his shirt. I followed close behind, watching the xokhafel’s every movement with careful eyes. We stopped in front of the betsweis and they bowed, almost mockingly. I growled a little and grabbed the xokhafel’s arm, about to snap at them when white suddenly consumed my vision. I let out a gasp and I heard Rox shout my name but it was too late. I collapsed in Rox’s arms, my consciousness slipping away to wherever they went when seers had visions.

Several images began to rush past me within my mind. I was quickly buried, a drowning sensation consuming me. That was common with these visions. I was a dream seer, after all, waking visions were not what I was meant to process. Yet they still came to me every once in awhile, always provoked by touch.

A scene quickly began to unfold before me. Two xokhafels, specifically two alhein xokhafels, and an angel are discussing something in a tent. There were maps scattered all around the room in complete disarray, most of them with plans on them for hotels and other attractions. The angel wore a business suit and judging from the three dots under his eyes, he was a fairly high ranking archangel. The two xokhafels were dressed up as well, at least for their species, as they were wearing full on pants and chest covers despite shorts being the clothing of choice amongst them.

“You would be willing to sell out your entire species solely for the promise of a luxurious life in the capital?” the angel asked, his voice crisp and methodical. A sinister smile spread across the face of one of the xokhafels. He laughed and turned to his companion, who nodded his head, a similar expression on his face.

“Why wouldn’t we? You’re going to enslave us either way, so why not use that to our advantage?” The angel chuckled and drummed his fingers on the table.

“Intriguing. Well, I appreciate your cooperation. Now about those financial arrangements-”

The scene faded away, gone as quickly as it came. Suddenly, I was falling. I started to flail about, the vision of what was undoubtedly the past getting further and further out of my grasp. I was not entirely sure what I had just witnessed, though I had a few ideas. But before I could process them, I was suddenly plunged into another vision. There was much less detail to this vision, but one thing, or rather person, was clear.

“Stop this nonsense! It doesn’t have to be this way. Please, just put the gun down.” Everything was fuzzy and white, the only visible images being Rox and a gun. I heard something of a response but it was too muffled to make out, then the gun suddenly fired. I saw Rox fall back, blood splattering out of his chest, and then the vision faded away again.

The first vision now nearly forgotten, I was reeling from this new information as I tumbled through the vast open space of my mind space. Rox was going to get shot? When? By who? Why? The vision hadn’t been nearly as detailed as I would have liked, but I knew what I had to do. I hadn’t seen myself in the vision. Perhaps, by always staying with Rox, I could possibly prevent it.

Chilling cold air splashed across my body as I found himself in another vision. In this one, I saw an alhein xokhafel with a butterfly resting on one of its horns. As I stared at him, I realized this was the replacement competitor that had been signed up at the last minute. Muzapo was his name, wasn’t it? I heard someone call out to the alhein and the betsweis from the alleyway suddenly came into view with an enlarged stomach. They laughed and hugged Muzapo before the vision started to fade from view.

“Maykrotot would be so happy to hear this,” I heard Muzapo say before the vision completely vanished.

I sat up with a start, my head pulsating in extreme pain. My vision was fuzzy and I had a hard time making out any details of my surroundings, but there was light, which helped. It must be during the three hours of sunlight that Alsondysi receives each day. I rubbed my head and let out a low groan. I heard someone shift near me before a female voice cried out,

“Rox! Rox! He’s awake!” I blinked a few more times, my vision finally starting to focus just in time to see a girl with black wings slide out of my view. I frowned at that before looking around. I was in a hotel room, and given the belongings were strewn around the room, it was probably Rox’s hotel room. So then why was there a woman here? I rubbed my chin in thought when I heard a soft snoring and looked over at the other bed in the room, then froze. The betsweis from the alley. Why were they here? Had Rox allowed them in? It was then I noticed the purple arm band wrapped around their right forearm. On it was a black and green moth, and it took me a moment to realize why that seemed so familiar. It was no coincidence that this betsweis had found them in the alleyway. They were a member of the xokhafel rebel group, the Haskótte.

I climbed out of bed and began to glance around for a weapon. I would have to dispose of them quickly. There was no need for Rox to associate himself with such filth. Not only would it be bad for the half-angel’s already not great image, but it could also result in Rox getting seriously injured. I hesitated at that and returned my attention to the resting xokhafel. Thinking back to the visions, I realized I was about to end another life before it had even begun. I let out a frustrated sigh and folded my arms back into my sleeves. Of course. Why wouldn’t the rebel be pregnant? It was almost as if the rebels had known it was against my moral code to kill the unborn. Still, that was not the only troubling detail about this. Rox was due to be shot. I couldn’t let that happen. No harm would come to my beloved if I could help it.

The door to the hotel room opened, drawing my attention to it. Rox stood in the doorway with a female angel with black wings standing behind him. Rox’s expression lit up at the sight of me and the half-angel rushed in, nearly tackling me to the floor in an embrace. I could not keep myself from smiling as Rox gave me an Eskimo kiss.

“I was so scared when you just suddenly passed out, but then I saw your jewel glowing and I realized you were having a vision.” I went slightly cross eyed as Rox tapped the red jewel that rested on my forehead. “So I brought you back here so it could run its course. Are you okay, Mikey? This is the third time you’ve had that happen. I’m starting to get worried. Should we get you checked out by a doctor?”

“I’m fine, Rox, there’s no need to worry. It’s probably because my father is a Cath Seer, remember? My body is not meant to handle visions while I’m awake but I still receive them anyway, it’s the obvious trait of a Dream Seer with a Cath Seer parent.”

“Um… excuse me.” I leaned to the side a little and spotted the woman from before. She had golden hair braided into two twin pigtails that rested on her shoulders, reaching just below her bosom. She had green eyes and wore a teal dress with brown combat boots. Her skin was a vibrant peach color and she had a bright smile. Overall she was quite the contrast to the black wings that indicated her true species of fallen. “Sorry to interrupt, but I don’t know all that much about seers. Would you mind explaining that to me?” I frowned in annoyance. I glanced at Rox as I started to deny the woman the explanation when I caught Rox’s expectant expression. I sighed inwardly. I couldn’t say no with that face staring at me.

“There are three kinds of seers that exist within our realm of knowledge: Day Seers, Dream Seers, and Cath Seers. Day and Dream Seers are by far the most common, with Day Seers receiving visions solely while they are awake, and Dream Seers receiving visions while they are asleep. Cath Seers are exceedingly rare and nobody's quite sure what spawns them, but occasionally in rare cases, a seer will be born to receive visions while they are awake and asleep. Sadly, we usually cannot study them for long because the constant barrage of visions usually drives them completely mad and they take their lives before they even reach my age. My father is one of the few exceptions, going so far as to get married and bear spawn. There have been cases of this in the past, all resulting in cases like mine. The children of Cath Seers are more prone to receive visions during a time they are not meant to receive these images. As a result, these visions are usually like poison to us. They are deadly but potent. If we can learn to control them without killing ourselves, we can summon extremely powerful visions. There have only been two recorded successful cases of this, and I intend to be the third.”

“So you could have died just now?” I turned my head, recognizing the voice of the betsweis from the night before. How long had they been awake?

“That is correct. The second time this ever happened to me, I suffered a heart attack in the midst of the unexpected visions. I obviously lived, but these attacks are very dangerous.” I looked between the two strangers in Rox’s room before stating curtly, “Perhaps if you wish to remain in this room any longer it would be best if you stated your names.” The female fallen's face flushed in embarrassment before she quickly responded,

“O-Oh you’re right! How rude of me! My name is Araxie Sincock. I am the sister of Raven Sincock, the fallen that is competing.”

“And I am Habiltís. Maykrotot, the alhein that was supposed to compete, and Muzapo, the one who took his place, are close friends of mine.” I opened my mouth to ask a question but Habiltís held up their hand to stop me. “Most xokhafels do not have last names. That is not a custom we have here. If you see one with a last name it is purely because they work at something like a hotel where it might be necessary.” I closed my mouth and glared at Habiltís in annoyance. The betsweis returned the glare before looking at the others. “Well, now seems like as good a time as any. I was originally only intending to speak with Mr. Argo but you all seem trustworthy. Miss Sincock, would you mind closing the door?” Araxie giggled and walked over to the door, closing it gently.

“Please, Araxie is fine. No need for formalities.” Habiltís appeared to grow a bit more flustered at that, especially when Rox smiled at him, signaling that he felt the same. I disagreed entirely but majority rules or some stupid philosophy like that. Though if any of them had the gall to call me Mikey there would be quite the lashing awaiting them.

“How to begin… well, I guess I should just be upfront with this. As you all may know, Maykrotot was murdered by a poisoned dish from room service. As far as I know, they have yet to locate the person who poisoned his food or who orchestrated the attack. However, I am under the impression that it is not a coincidence Maykrotot was targeted.” I watched as Habiltís reached over and tugged on his purple armband. “I’m not entirely sure how familiar you are with Alsondysi’s political situation, but most of the xokhafel that live here are less than pleased with their current situation. And while those in the labor and breeding camps have little control over their fates, those of us in the free villages are sick and tired of the angel regime controlling us all. Every year they come through and execute several of us. The disabled are not allowed to live. I am sent into hiding every year because I am defective. I am not supposed to be alive. But then, even if you are not executed, you are not safe. If you’re a thilthana you’re screwed from the start. Get ready, because when you’re at the breeding age, you’re getting entered into a sex ring. Are you a genetically perfect betsweis? Off to the breeding camps with yee. Are you a strong and healthy alhein? Pack your bags, you’re going to be spending the rest of your lowly life in the labor camps. The only reason Maykrotot never got taken was that we knew when they’d come. He would hide with me.”

“So then how did he end up here? Seems to me that your hiding spot wasn’t all that great,” I interrupted in a terse tone. Rox’s hand quickly covered my mouth, but it was too late. I saw the emotional bullet had already struck home. Good. Maybe now this lowlife would stay away from Rox. Habiltís’s eyes went out of focus for a moment, and they lowered their gaze to the bed. There was a tense silent moment before Habiltís choked out a sob. They reached up and wiped away a stray tear.

“Yeah. I guess so,” they answered quietly. “But Maykrotot volunteered himself for this. See, he and I are-... were members of the xokhafel rebel group known as the Haskótte. When we first heard of the competition, many of us knew this was our chance to win our way into the seat of power and be able to make the changes necessary to free xokhafels. The perks of a monarchy. But no one wanted to risk their lives. Shows you most of our gang is all bark and no bite. Maykrotot was the only one who said he would give up everything if it meant saving Alsondysi, even his own life.” Habiltís took another shaky breath before looking up with a smile. “I’d like to think that he knew what he was risking by doing that. When I found out he had died, I knew it was not a coincidence. Someone had been tipped off about Maykrotot’s true alignment. How? We may never know. But, it doesn’t really matter. The reason I bring this up to you is that the same night Maykrotot died, our intel at the hotel discovered some troubling news. Rox, you and your brother were targeted as well. But since you were not here to receive your food, you were not poisoned.”

Rox tensed up before looking at me, an unspoken question lingering in his eyes. Of course, I knew exactly what Habiltís was talking about. I wasn’t an idiot. I even knew the identity of the individual that found out Maykrotot was a member of the Haskótte.

“Yes, Rox, that is the reason I urged you to eat out that night. I had been feeling lethargic earlier that day and laid down for a nap. I was greeted by a vision of you and Antioch dying from poisoned room service. Hoping I was not too late, I called you up on the Holo-Crystals and convinced you to eat out.” Not an entire lie. Just omitted truths. “I apologize for your loss. It sounds like you two were very close. To hear he gave us his own child for the freedom of his own planet is very noble.”

“Child?” Habiltís tilted their head before their face flushed a bright blue. “What? No no no no! He and I-um… w-well we were uh involved but a child? No.” I scanned the expressions of the occupants of the room. Their expressions were all that of plain confusion. It seemed this was not common knowledge. Perhaps the pregnancy had not been discovered yet.

“When I touched you yesterday, I witnessed several different visions. Generally, seers are not supposed to disclose the details of their visions for a variety of reasons. But seeing as you are not already aware, I will tell you this. In the near or distant future, I saw you with an enlarged stomach, speaking with the one you call Muzapo. It was apparently news that Maykrotot would have liked to hear. I just assumed it was about the pregnancy. But I could be wrong.” Habiltís looked down at their stomach again, realization dawning in their eyes, before whispering,

“Our last night. Oh dear Aeotts! It’s the only possible… oh, my Aeotts.” Habiltís reached up and covered their mouth before shaking their head. “I-I’m sorry. This is just a lot to process. I won’t be able to know for another few weeks. I can’t afford to be tested so I’ll just have to wait but… if you’re right then I’m carrying Maykrotot’s child.” I jumped as Rox suddenly whooped. The half-angel pumped his fists into the air and laughed.

“Dude! That’s amazing. You were obviously going to get together if fate had allowed it, and now, even if he isn’t here, he’s left you a little piece of him behind.” Habiltís smiled softly at Rox began waving their hand in the air.

“Thank you, but still, this is not why I located you. When we found out that it was your food that had been poisoned, the Haskótte discussed it and we were wondering if you would be interested in helping our cause of overthrowing the angel regime’s control on Alsondysi. I realize it is a lot to ask of you, of all three of you, but most xokhafels are tired of being oppressed. We want our freedom. And, if you should refuse, all I ask is that you don’t rat me out. Normally I would not have minded, but I’m all Muzapo has left and well… I have more than just my own life to think about now, it appears.” Habiltís started to move off the bed. “I should probably leave you to think on it and discuss-”

“I’ll do it!” Araxie said suddenly. I could not prevent the absolutely perplexed expression from forming on my face. Was this woman completely mad? “I know all about stigmas and wanting freedom. Despite not being considered a servant species by the regime, fallens are not really considered angels either. We’re stigmatized from both sides and it’s not fair to those of us that didn’t choose to fall. So why not? Better than just standing around wearing fancy dresses and picking out suitors.” Rox laughed at Araxie’s obvious sarcasm and pulled me closer.

“I’m definitely in. Antioch and I were always of the belief that servant species didn’t deserve the hand they were dealt. I mean heck, I’m openly dating a member of a servant species. Besides, at least on Earth, angels are seen as harbingers of good, and lately, the regime has not been doing anything like that. It’s just been oppression, oppression, oppression. I’d like to see that changed.” Suddenly, all eyes were on me again, and I knew better than to fight like a salmon against the current.

“Sure, why not,” I said simply. Rox whooped again, nearly crushing me in his arms. He was so proud of me. I felt almost guilty for lying. Almost. Habiltís opened their mouth to say something else when there was a knock at the door.

“Rox Argo, is Michaelangelo with you?” Oh great, Parlim had come to fetch me.

“Coming,” I called back. Pulling Rox down, I pressed a kiss to his cheek and opened the door. Stepping into the hallway, I could feel Parlim glowering down at me. Closing the door behind me, I silently followed Parlim to the stairs. We ascended two floors and entered the room closest to the stairs. Parlim shut the door behind us and I had barely turned around to face him when I felt him strike my cheek. I slammed against the wall and stars filled my vision as Parlim began to yell at me.

“Are you trying to add an aftertaste of degeneracy to our family’s name?” he snarled as he grabbed my robes and lifted me up so our faces were inches from each other. “What have I told you about spending the night with that bastard child? I only allow you to court the man because it does some good for our family’s social status, but only if you respect the sanctity of marriage. We are lucky the press didn’t catch you the first time this happened, and I would rather not run that risk again. So, care to explain yourself as to why you disobeyed my direct order? Keep in mind, I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.”

I narrowed my eyes at the fuzzy image of Parlim and frowned. I could see the jewel on his circlet letting off a steady glow. That meant mine probably was as well, if he was reading my mind like I guessed he was. I always envied this ability, but only highly skilled seers like Parlim were able to access such abilities, and it was very limited. I often wondered if that was the true reason he made me wear a circlet because it was required for him to read a person’s mind.

“While exploring the town last night, Rox and I came across a betsweis. When I reached out and touched them, it triggered a vision. I passed out and woke up only a few minutes before you came by.” To backup my story, I played the events in my head, omitting the more scandalous events that I knew he would not care to see. Parlim paused, examining my memories before his eyes widened.

“It seems you’re telling the truth, but that is no longer my major concern.” Parlim lowered me to the ground as the red glow of the gem in his circlet faded away. “You conversed with a xokhafel rebel?”

“Yes sir,” I replied, brushing myself off as I leaned against the wall. “As you saw, I had intended to dispose of them, but during my visions, I realized they were most likely pregnant and I-”

“It’s all right, son,” Parlim interrupted, putting a hand on my shoulder. “It was the right decision. It goes against the Lord’s dictated laws, so do not look down upon yourself for doing what was morally correct. However, I am glad you showed this to me. It proves where your loyalties truly lie. So, care to explain the scene to me in great detail?”

We moved to a set of tables and chairs in our room and I began to recount the events of the previous night and this morning. For the most part, I was true to what had happened, but when it came to declaring our “loyalty” to the Haskótte, I added in a small lie, stating that Rox was intending to help foil the intentions of the group as well when this could not be further from the truth. If Parlim knew I was lying, he made no mention of it. He was not reading my mind currently and my skills in the art of falsifying the truth are impeccable if I do say so myself. Still, it was risky lying to Parlim, but to save Rox I would stand in the face of any obstacle. Even if it meant facing the Lord himself, I would follow in the footsteps of Lucifer to save Rox if I had to.

“I would say it would be best for you to continue playing along and feed any valuable information to me. The higher ups will find it very useful to have a spy on the inside, I am sure. Especially with your past in espionage, I am sure you will do great, Michelangelo." I frowned at Parlim and narrowed my eyes suspiciously. He never flattered me. Not genuinely anyway. It was always if he wanted something. "Now now, don't look at me like that. Am I not allowed to be proud of my son every once in a while?"

"Given the norms in seer culture, I'd say no. So naturally, I'm a bit suspicious. What's happening on this planet that the competition needs to happen now? What's happening that we had to orchestrate the murder of a xokhafel solely because you had a vision of him winning? What's happening that is so bad that even Rox and Antioch had an attempt against them?" I didn't realize I had raised my voice at Parlim until it was too late but I wanted answers. Being a seer was the ultimate curse, you got answers without the questions that go with them. Despite our eyes being open to events of the future and the past, we were blinder than any other species in existence. Parlim started back at me with his sunset eyes before reaching for a purple crystal remote. Tapping the screen, the crystal viewing screen came on behind me. I turned around as the news began to play in Angelicus with Xokhafelian subtitles.

"Riots were suppressed in another breeding camp today. Two angel guards were killed but thankfully the angels on staff were able to put down the uprising. The loss to the betsweis population at the camp is currently unknown but there are expected to be more frequent raids on the native villages in the future to help refuel the lost populations.

"In other news, the planet of Anglovia has currently shut off all regular access to portals. Non-citizens are being moved to embassies where they are being transported off the planet. Typhoons have greatly increased in frequency over the past month and power outages are occurring all over the planet. It has not been confirmed yet by King Havmugardun but the representative from Anglovia on the Angel Council seems to have hinted at the possibility of riots occurring amongst the sjø people of the planet. Unlike the xokhafels of Alsondysi, the sjø are a high risk to the angel people due to their draconic nature and connection to the sea. We expect that if these rumors are true then a state of emergency will be declared soon. We will update-"

The crystal viewer clicked off and I looked back at Parlim. Well, that answered some of my questions. They needed someone on the inside because the xokhafel rebellion wasn't contained to just one planet, it was creating a butterfly effect across the entire angel regime. They needed it crushed because it could completely destroy the empire that angels had and ultimately drag the entire universe into complete chaos.

"I hope that answers some of your questions. As for why Antioch and Rox were targeted, we are unsure. It's entirely possible that the xokhafel we bribed to poison the food decided to overstep his bounds but these disgusting beasts stick together like glue. They won't give each other up for much of anything. Even if they're inherently greedy it appears many value loyalty to species over money. If only they acted more like the two fools that sold Alsondysi." I paused. I had heard this story before. It was when the angel regime took over Alsondysi. Two xokhafels were elected to represent the planet and entered a room with an angel. They emerged with a compromise of sorts but in actuality, it gave the angel regime the power to do whatever they wanted and in exchange, the two xokhafels got lives of luxury in the capital. They were long since dead, one had been assassinated shortly after the enslavement of the xokhafels began and the other died of natural cases some time ago.

“What makes you think they will trust me enough to give me information of value?” I asked quietly, even though I already had a good idea as to why.

“We normally would send in one of the hybrids, but because of their issues with the government, the xokhafels are very suspicious of their hybrid counterparts. There are few other readily available species we can send in, and you are in a unique position with Rox in that the Haskótte already appears to have some faith in you. Perhaps it is because you are of a servant species class like they are and because you are dating what many would deem a misfit. But who am I to say.” After a few minutes of silence, I slowly nodded my head and stood up.

“All right, I will report back to you as regularly as I can. But understand, I will be going in deep. The farther in I go, the more dangerous it will be for me to report back to you.” Parlim smiled at me and waved his hand as if to say there was no need for me to warn him. I pursed my lips before hearing a knock on our door. Parlim stood up and answered it,

"Ah, Prince Argo, what brings you here?" I stood up and walked over to the mirror with my back to the door, pretending to comb my hair when in actuality I was observing the scene in the mirror's reflection. Rox placed his fist over his heart and folded his other arm behind his back parallel to his waist. He bowed to Parlim and spoke up,

"I came to apologize, sir. Michelangelo had a vision last night as indicated by the jewel on his circlet. I was unsure what to do and at the time did not know your room number, so I thought it safer to take him to mine in case he suffered another heart attack. He was not alone with me, but I realize now that I should have gone to the front desk and asked for your room number instead of taking him to mine." Rox stayed in his bowed position for several tense seconds before Parlim placed a hand on Rox's shoulder.

"I understand. Michelangelo told me everything. It was the right thing to do at the time. I presume you received our room number from the desk downstairs just now?" Rox nodded his head quickly. "I see. Well, I see no reason for you to have taken any other action given how long it took you to reach us. If my son had suffered a heart attack or something worse, I trust him to receive excellent care from you until proper authorities arrive. Now please stand." Rox slowly straightened up, his eyes making contact with mind via the mirror. "Michelangelo, didn't you say you had planned to spend the day with Rox?" Rox's expression lit up, as it was rare for me to initiate us going out on dates. I much preferred our excursions to be private, within the palace grounds or somewhere else like a small coffee shop.

"Yes sir, if that is all right with you." Parlim chuckled and wrapped his arm around me as I turned around. He pat my back and my left eye twitched ever so slightly.

"Of course! You have not seen him in two weeks, correct? I think some time out is just what you two need. So please, go, enjoy yourselves, especially since your time was cut short last night." Parlim pushed me forward and I walked towards the door. I stepped outside, gave a seer bow to Parlim, and then closed the door. I looked up at Rox, who was grinning from ear to ear at me.

"So, you wanted to go out on the town?" he asked as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"Well, it seems like a shame to not explore. Plus, you said it yourself, we have to check out places to live when we elope." Rox pulled me closer and kissed my temple. Tugging me forward, we started to walk to the elevators.

"Uhuh. Well, good news, we've got our first mission tonight. But in order to participate, we're going to have to get some news clothes for the both of us.” There was a ding as the elevator arrived. The doors slid open with a hiss and we stepped in. Rox pressed the lobby button, the doors closed, and we began our descent.

“What’s wrong with my current clothes?” I asked defensively. It was deeply rooted in seer culture to wear traditional robes, even in private. Rox often commented that Parlim and I were like extreme priests, never wearing non-traditional clothing. Having never worn anything different, I saw no issue with it, but others found it a bit odd.

“Nothing. They’re just a bit too… seer-ish for what we’re going to be doing.” There was a soft ding as the elevator stopped on the first floor. The doors slid open. “Besides, I figured you wouldn’t want to get paint on your nice robes,” he added as he quickly exited the elevator. I froze, thinking over what Rox had just said before my face flushed red and I charged after him.

“Rox!” I shouted as I pursued him across the lobby. I reached out to grab his arm but he quickly folded them behind his head to dodge my reach. “Rox! You did not sign me up for what I think you did!” Rox refused to look at me. He instead opted for a shrug.

“I mean, no, but I just happened to mention your skill at spray painting. The chips just sort of fell from there.” I glared my hardest at Rox. The half-angel pretended not to notice, but given the somewhat conflict look in his eyes, I realized I am being a bit too hard on him. I huffed loudly as we exit the lobby and crossed my arms, puffing out my cheeks slightly.

“Fine, we can go shopping. But I’m picking out my clothes. And I’m not saying yes to the spray paint thing. I’ll consider it, but that’s it.” Rox’s shoulders visibly relaxed and he reached over, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. Pulling me closer, we walked into the city. It looked just like it had the night before, except brighter. I squinted. I could not imagine being a xokhafel here unless they were like Habiltís, it would just hurt too much. I mean, all the buildings were bleached white, it was awful! At least the castle Rox and I called home had some accented golds to it, this was just headache inducing. I had to wonder if that design choice was purposeful.

We walked into the center of town where I spotted some familiar faces. Araxie waved to Rox and I as we approached. Habiltís was standing next to her, but they were not paying attention. I noticed they were not wearing their armband today. I was starting to wonder why when I followed Habiltís’s gaze. The betsweis was scanning constantly, their eyes shifting between the different angel guardsmen stationed everywhere. With the large amount of them around, I imagined that would make anyone antsy. They were always more prominent during the day than at night on Alsondysi, solely because most of the visitors were vastly more active during the day hours. Some lingered around at night as well, but because of the increased presence of xokhafels at night, visitors were usually warned to stay inside the resort limits.

“So are we ready to go shopping?” Araxie asked, starting down the street. Habiltís snapped out of their thoughts and nodded sheepishly, walking a bit faster to take the lead. I stayed close to Rox, unsure of where we were going. This was certainly a tourist town, fancy restaurants and boutiques lined the streets. I had already decided if we eloped here, we were not staying anywhere near here. The tourist scenery was too much of a nuisance for my taste. Habiltís led us into a clothing store. They waved to the xokhafel manning the cash register before stepping to the side. Habiltís gestured around the store and said,

“I will wait at the front, enjoy yourselves.” Habiltís walked over to prepared seating where a few other xokhafels sat, all wearing the same bored expression. It took me a moment to realize what was going on when I saw the sign that read “No xokhafels in the shopping area”. They weren’t allowed outside of the seating area. I sighed and shook my head. Candidly speaking, I was a bit surprised I was allowed outside the seating area. Most angel run establishments had this requirement for all servant species but I was being allowed through for once so I’m not complaining.

I followed Rox and Araxie into the men’s clothing section of the store. The two angels chartered as I walked behind like a third wheel. I still did not know what our mission was, but I knew I had to pick clothes that were not traditionally worn by seers. That meant no robes or really any outfits that did not contain pants. Seers were well known for their long flowing outfits with large sleeves and very pale colors. They were meant to cover the seer should they enter a trance. Some robes also had a hood that could be worn as a signal to not disturb the seer. My robe lacked this feature, however, as did the robes of many dream seers. We did not need this kind of addition to our robes given our visions generally happened exclusively while we are asleep. Still, this simple fact did not stop me from wanting to wear a hood for most of my life.

I paused as we passed a rack of jackets. A dark green jacket had caught my eye and as I pulled it off the support to examine it, I immediately found an unusual desire to purchase this piece of clothing. I felt Rox slip his arm across my shoulders and he smiled down at me.

“Find something you like?” he asked. I nodded slightly, shyly showing him the jacket. Rox took my head and guided it to where he could see the jacket in front of me. He glanced between my face and the jacket before breaking in a supportive grin. “I think it suits you. Why don’t you go to the fitting room? I’ll pick out a shirt and pants that will go with it.” Leaving the fashion to the experts, I took the jacket and walked to a nearby fitting room. As I hung up the jacket and started to unzip it, there was a knock at my door. I opened it and Rox pushed through a black short sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans that matched. Closing the door, I quickly got changed. I realized as I was dressing that my shoes did not match at all, the soft moccasins only suited for usual seer attire. Rox solved the problem quickly, returning with some black combat boots. When I stepped from the dressing room, I felt like an entirely different individual. I was not longer Michelangelo the dream seer, the man who served to succeed his father as the advisor for the Argo Court of Earth. For now, I was Mikey, a rebel whose heart belonged to a half-angel that was too foolish for his own good. If only that were the whole truth.

“I like it,” I said quietly, “Can we get it?” Rox rubbed his chin in deep thought before signaling for me to turn around. With a heavy sigh, I turned around so he could see my back. I waited for confirmation of the purchase when I received a hearty slap on the ***. “Rox!” I yelped, spinning back around as my face went red. The half-angel snickered at me and glanced at Araxie.

“Always wanted to do that. Just not the same in robes. Can’t get a solid grab in.” Araxie giggled, trying to cover her mouth with her mouth to muffle the sound. I flushed with embarrassment and slammed the door to the fitting room behind me as I went back in to change. By the time I had redressed into my seer robes, Araxie and Rox had picked out substitute clothes as well. I was still a bit miffed with Rox, but since he paid for my new outfit I became somewhat more willing to forgive him.

Habiltís’s head lifted as we checked out. They stood up, bidding farewell to the very obviously bored xokhafel beside them and led us back outside. Habiltís opened their mouth to say something once we were gathered outside when a shout rang up, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. I turned my head in the direction of the outdoor patio of a restaurant. A small fragile-looking xokhafel waiter was cowering in fear, holding up his tray slightly up between himself and the aggressor. He had apparently accidentally spilled the food of the two angels he was serving, and it was not going over well. While one of the angels remained seated, watching the scene with a rather bored expression, the other was towering over the xokhafel with a red face and fury filled eyes.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me. I-I just got hired today. Please please forgive me,” the xokhafel stuttered out. The angel showed no pity, shoving the waiter to the ground. I skimmed over the other patrons. The other angels that were dining paid no attention, but I could see that some of the tourists were disturbed by the turn of events. All the xokhafel staff had either fled inside or were cowering in the shadows by the door, turning a guilty blind eye to their fellow. So much for the species sticking together.

“They should have never hired you then! If you’re this much of a screw up then you need to go back to that labor camp where you belong. Better yet, you should have never even been born in the first place,” the angel growled out as he stood over the fallen xokhafel. The xokhafel’s chest rose and fell in a panic, his eyes darting all around, searching for someone, anyone, to help him. “In this universe, only perfection should be allowed in the presence of the angels, and you are not perfection. Which means only one thing, you must be wiped from this universe.” The xokhafel waiter tried to scramble away, but the angel’s companion quickly stepped on the poor child’s wing as he took a drink from his cup of tea. The aggressing angel held his hand up into the air, and a silver gun formed in his hand. The xokhafel waiter began to scream in Xokhafien,

“Jerposha! Jakathens! Paritja! Anichgo sabimai maesaitut! Paritja! Paritja!” I didn’t understand what he was shouting, but from Habiltís’s shameful expression, and the dark look in the eyes of the other xokhafels that were turning their backs on this waiter, it was obvious he was pleading for help. Rox started to step forward but stopped when Habiltís stuck their wing out in front of him. Rox looked at the betsweis in horror, but Habiltís only shook their head. There was nothing they could do. A gunshot echoed through the air, cutting off the waiter’s screams. The angel’s gun disappeared, blood pooling around the table from the caved-in skull of the dead xokhafel. The angel grumbled and signaled for his buddy to follow him. They left without paying. The waitstaff quickly rushed in and began to clean up the body and blood of the dead xokhafel. Given their efficiency, it was obvious this was not the first time they had been forced through an incident like this.

“Come this way,” Habiltís said quietly, gesturing for us to follow them away from the gruesome scene. Rox’s movements were stiff. I could tell he was absolutely furious. He had wanted to intervene, but that would have only made things worse. Even as a prince in title only, Rox getting involved in things such as that reflected badly on the regime as a whole. Habiltís led us away from the crowds into a dark alleyway, never looking back in our direction. Once we were far enough away, Rox brushed past Araxie and I and grabbed onto Habiltís’s shoulder roughly.

“Why didn’t you let me through back there? I could have helped! As soon as I stepped in they would have backed off, I assure you. Are you all just that afraid of angels? Is that it! Because now that guy is dead just like Maykrotot!” Habiltís whipped around and slapped Rox. I stepped forward, about to lunge at the betsweis, but Araxie grabbed onto me and did her best to hold me back. Habiltís had tears in their eyes and was breathing heavily.

“You think I didn’t want to intervene? That happens multiple times a week here, sometimes even multiple times a day! People like those angels come in and just slaughter us because we messed up their order or didn’t serve them quick enough! That is just the reality of what life on this planet is for people like me.” Habiltís narrowed their eyes and shoved a claw at Rox’s chest. “If I could I would have intervened! I knew that alhein! He lived in the house next to me for years! I was just a child when he was born. I watched him grow up. I watched him get taken away because they were in desperate need of alheins and were willing to take even the weak like him. I heard the sobs of his parents as their only child was stolen from them by our angel overlords. I have had to watch my countrymen fall one by one to jerks like those angels because their food was too spicy or there wasn’t a lemon in their drink. But I’m not allowed to intervene, and neither are you. Zhámos’s orders. Now come on, or are you tired of playing rebel, you Nephilim scum?”

Rox’s expression twisted at the insult. That was about as low as you could go when it came to derogatory terms for angels. Nephilims were often regarded as the biggest screw ups in angel history. While it was not uncommon for angels to breed with the local species, the Lord had a set of rules and expectations had to be pushed through first. Species had to be a certain size, they could not be married or otherwise already engaged with another individual and other rules such as those. Sadly, back when the regime was first getting started, the Lord’s authority over the angels was not as strong as it is now. The angels got ahead of themselves, and under the protection of the archangel, Azrael got “busy” with the females from Earth. Nephilim were the offspring that resulted from this. When the Lord found out, he was none too pleased and sent in his right-hand man, the archangel Gabriel to slaughter all the offending angels, women, and children, and the Lord personally banished Azrael to third Heaven, where he would be alone for the rest of his life. Then, to hide the tragedy from the humans, the Lord selected his most loyal followers, had them build a boat and gather a bunch of animals, then flooded the place to wipe away the blood of those that died. It was a show of power and discipline that has never been repeated since.

“No, he’s fine,” I interjected before Rox could reply. Rox gave me a dirty look but made no move to protest. “He’s just frustrated. We all are. Leave it be. Continue on. I would like to find out exactly what we will be doing tonight. No one has briefed me yet.” Habiltís looked between Rox and me before turning around.

“All right. Follow me.” Habiltís led us further down the alleyway until we reached a dead end. They bent down and picked up a manhole cover, gesturing for us to climb down. I could barely mask my disgust. They could not be serious! But apparently, they were, as Araxie and Rox climbed down without protest. I took a deep breath, praying my robes would be salvageable afraid being exposed to sewer grime, then climbed in after them. Habiltís came down after me, covering the hole back up and starting to lead us through the tunnels. It wasn't long before a large group of alhein and betsweis xokhafels came into view. The largest one of the group stepped forward towards us.

He crossed his arms and looked us over like pieces of meat in a butcher's shop. He was huge, towering over the other xokhafels by at least a foot. He was about the same height as Rox, 6'10ish if I had to guess since without the horns the guy was a bit shorter than Rox. His right horn held a gentle curve, burning bright red in color. In addition, it had a black circle on it right where the horn began to bend, with two lines running tangent to the circle up the length of the horn. His left horn was a similar shape, curling back into the shape of a ram's horn. It was solid orange and as he turned his head to looked at something behind him, I saw a symbol on the horn. A white circle formed on the second innermost curve of the horn and on the innermost curve. At the diagonals of the innermost circle, four lines spread out to the outer circle. A v-shape ran through the top of both circles as well. Something about the symbols bothered me like I had seen them before but I couldn't place where. His skin was a dark blue gray and he had short hair, almost in a buzzcut-like fashion. His eyes were not the same color as Habiltís, but rather an emerald green, signaling that unlike the betsweis, this guy could see us in the dark but not the light. Giving the several other sets of green eyes in the area, it seemed like Habiltís was the only day-walker among them. The alhein's feathers were orange and red, matching his horns, and he wore red shorts as if to accentuate that fact.

"These the ones you were talking about, Habiltís?" the alhein grunted out. Habiltís nodded their head, a soft clicking noise echoing from their mouth as they used it to see in the dark sewers.

"They are. I hope that they will be able to help us. If we have angels on our side, even non-purebreds, it will increase confidence in our rebellion, I think." The large xokhafel looked at Rox, then at Araxie.

"I am not so sure. This might dissuade people if anything. Especially if we have one of those lap dogs tagging along," the alhein said, gesturing at me without even casting a glance in my direction. I bristled at the comment. How dare he! Sure seers were well known as the closest servant species to angels but I was no lapdog! I'm more of a cat person anyway.

"No, Zhamós, I assure you, they'll be helpful. How many rebel groups can say that they have the support of an angel prince behind them?" Habiltís pressed on. The large male looked at Rox again and grunted out a laugh.

"In title only," he answered simply. Rage buzzed through me. It was true but to discount Rox's worth, even if he was a prince in title only, that was crossing the line. A prince in title only was better than no prince at all!

"Just like you then huh?" Habiltís replied before I got the chance to respond. There were a few ooh's from the xokhafels behind Zhamós. He glared over his shoulder, quickly shutting up those that made the noise before looking back at the betsweis.

"I'd be careful, Habiltís. You're already on thin ice for not following orders when it came to dealing with the loose end." I frowned. Loose end? As in a member that knew too much?

"You should have known I wasn't going to kill him. If you really wanted him dead then you should have had someone else escort him back to the hotel. He's out of your horns for now anyway, so just suck it up and deal with it."

There was a tense silence down in the sewers as Zhamós and Habiltís glared at each other. The betsweis certainly knew how to hold their ground. Zhamós finally relented with an angry growl. He turned, revealing his docked tail. It had obviously been chopped off at some point, making me wonder what the story behind it was.

"Fine. But if this backfires it's on your head, Habiltís." Habiltís nodded their head in understanding. They turned to Araxie, Rox, and I and smiled.

"Congratulations! You're now officially part of the Haskótte rebellion! So, your mission." Habiltís gestured for everyone to gather round. The other xokhafels circled Habiltís and listened intently to their instructions. "Rox actually made a great suggestion. If there's one thing angels like, it is purity, order, and cleanliness. I mean, have you seen the outsides of their buildings? It's not exactly a subtle message. So, Rox suggested, why not spray paint the buildings at night? Doesn't have to be a Haskótte moth, it can be anything! Just make it colorful." Habiltís looked at me and gave me a confident smile. "Not many of us know how to spray paint, but Rox mentioned you make a hobby of it back on Earth when your father isn't around, so I was wondering if you'd be willing to help take point on this mission."

I knew it! I turned and shot Rox a hard glare, the half-angel desperately trying to avoid eye contact with me. He knew he was in trouble. The fact that I enjoyed spray painting was a huge secret. He was the only other person alive that knew, or at least, so I had thought. Still, I needed to blend in. I needed them to trust me. Easier to get information to Parlim if they just told me upfront about it rather than me having to eavesdrop.

"I would be happy to. It's not all that complicated of a task and it's easy to pick up and learn. If you have a can around I can show you now or we can wait until tonight." Habiltís shrugged a little, indicating they had no spray cans yet. Okay. Tonight it was then.

"I want to have a group in the sky and a group on the ground to ensure as few of us are caught as possible. I intend to pair a person on the ground with a person in the sky, and hopefully, we can cover as much ground as possible. Meet back here three hours after sunset. That’s when the fun begins.”

With the instructions set, everyone was dismissed. Rox, Araxie, and I exited the sewer system without Habiltís and began to make our way back to the hotel. We specifically avoided the route past the scene of the public execution and were almost back to the hotel when someone called out to Rox. I saw it was a young child angel, obviously a fan of Rox’s. Rox was fairly popular with children when it came to Earth angels.

“You guys head on inside. I’ll catch up,” Rox instructed before dashing over to the kid. I made no move to protest. I was very tired. The downside of being a dream seer meant you got zero rest when you had visions. Since I started receiving visions when I was ten, caffeine quickly became my lifetime partner in being an effective advisor. I walked inside with Araxie. We stepped into the elevator and pushed the buttons for our floors.

“Are you nervous?” Araxie asked me suddenly. I glanced at her and shrugged a little, not really sure what she meant by that. “About tonight. I mean, it may come as a surprise to you, but I’ve never really committed any criminal acts before.” Araxie laughed nervously at the comment. I was not surprised at the comment, but more so because Araxie seemed like the goody two shoe type. She certainly was not meant to be a fallen by any means. “Have you broken the law before?” I sighed a little. I just wanted her to be quiet but if our situations were reversed I couldn’t say I wouldn’t be reacting a little bit similar.

“Yes,” I answered simply. Araxie looked me expectantly and I mentally rolled my eyes. “The reason Rox knows I have skills with spray painting stems from the fact that I’d randomly disappear from time to time. He tailed me once and caught me spray painting a train in Italy, which is vandalism.” I folded my arms into my large sleeves, my bag of new clothes crinkling as I moved. “And if you really want to get technical, Rox’s and I’s relationship is against the old laws.” Araxie cocked her head to the side. “Right, fallen, you aren’t taught about this. See once upon a time the Lord was a much stricter individual. He handed out a set of a bunch of rules to different planets as they were conquered. But it was more for the angels and their servant species than anything else. So before the Lord’s son revised the laws, not only were angels and servant species not allowed to have any form of romantic relationships whatsoever, but also it couldn’t be between two of the same gender. Course, since hybrids exist, reproductive relationships were kind of allowed? The old laws are complicated and somewhat contradictory. Best not to get too mixed up in the subtexts.”

The elevator dinged as we reached Araxie’s floor. Araxie looked up as the door opened then back at me. She nodded her head to me and quickly exited. I had obviously given her a lot to think about in the near future. The elevator doors closed and lifted me up two more floors before letting me out on my floor. I exited and walked to my room. Producing a key card, I walked inside and scanned around. Parlim was not here, most likely attending a meeting or busying himself with some other activity. Without switching into my sleeping robes, I collapsed onto my bed and let sleep take me.

A falling sensation consumed me as I suddenly found myself tumbling through a white expanse of space. I dimly realized I was having another vision. Generally, they weren’t this close in proximity, but when they were, it meant I was losing a lot of sleep in the near future. I saw a flurry of images hurtling towards me and dove into the scene. Per usual, my dream vision started with an image from the past. I observed my surroundings, finding myself in the hotel hallway just outside of Rox and Antioch’s room. It took me a moment to realize I had seen this vision before, albeit a slightly different version. At the time, it had been a vision of a possible future, but since this was now a vision of the past, it would have a different ending.

I watched as a xokhafel pushing a room service cart exited the elevator and walked down the hallway. They checked a card in their hand before making a disapproving clicking noise. Raising their right hand, they began to run their claws along the wall, using it to feel the inscriptions of the numbers along the walls. He stopped at the room 323, Rox and Antioch’s room. Something started to bother me as I watched. No one answered the door, I knew that much, but why was there only one tray of food? Supposedly, both Maykrotot and Antioch had been targeted with poisoned food. I narrowed my eyes and turned my focus to the xokhafel. They were large, larger than your average xokhafel for sure. Their hotel uniform was covering up their horns and tail, so I wasn’t able to get really any distinctive markings on this xokhafel. I leaned closer and grit my teeth. They had green eyes. Hotel employees always had blue eyes. According to Parlim’s teachings, xokhafels were specifically bred for blue eyes if they wanted to work in the service industry. There were exceptions, of course, but something told me this was not one of those cases.

The xokhafel gave a very dissatisfied look to the door to the hotel room and looked down at the plate of food in front of them. They lifted their head and looked down the hall, somewhere behind me. I turned around, following their field of vision. There were several rooms in that direction. Which were they looking at? The xokhafel pushed their cart down the hall to room 328 and gently knocked on the door.

“Room service!” he called out. The door opened and I felt my breathing halt in my throat. This hadn’t been in my previous vision. Was I witnessing what I thought I was? The door to room 328 opened and a head poked out. The alhein xokhafel gave a hearty grin at the sight of the food and licked his lips. He had shaggy hair and green eyes. His left horn was gold and in the jagged shape of a lightning bolt while his right was curved and smooth with a splash of green on the center of the curve. I knew exactly who that was. That was Maykrotot. This was his assassination. I took a step closer but suddenly everything began to fade away. The food was passed over to Maykrotot and the door closed. The xokhafel turned and began to walk back to the elevator when they stumbled. Their hat fell off and for a brief second, I caught sight of a familiar set of horns.

The image melted away and I found myself plummeting through white space again. I was still trying process what I had just seen when I was plunged into a very familiar scene. It was foggy all around. I could see Rox, a gun tightly clutched in his right hand as he stared straight ahead.

“Stop this nonsense! It doesn’t have to be this way. Please, just put the gun down.” It was the same line as before. The muffled reply came again and then the gunshot. I saw Rox get hit in the chest, blood splattering everywhere before the image slipped away again. It had changed from the first time I had seen it. Were our current actions leading to that future? Still, I had not seen myself in that image. By not leaving Rox alone, I was sure I could guarantee his safety from this future.

A cold sensation splashed over my body as I was plunged into… something different. It was supposed to be a vision of the future, but it was glitchy. Almost like it could not settle on a single outcome. Static consumed the area around me and I was unsure what to do now. I heard the soft fluttering of wings nearby and a blue butterfly emerged from the static. It flew towards me and stopped just in front of me. I squinted at it when suddenly it was consumed with light and a translucent image of Maykrotot appeared. He frowned at me before crossing his arms, still floating in the air slightly.

“Geez, you’re the threat to the rebellion? You don’t look like much. Then again, neither does my brother. Still. This is… somewhat anticlimactic.” I blinked a few times before opening my mouth to ask a question, only to find I couldn’t speak. “Too bad I can’t warn Habiltís and the others about you. Guess I’ll just have to hope they figure it out on their own before you stab them in the back. I hope if we meet again, it’s in the afterlife.” Maykrotot’s image disappeared and everything fell away.

I gasped as I sat up at the sound of an alarm going off. I glanced at the alarm clock to the side. It was thirty minutes until I was due to meet up with the others. I didn’t recall setting the alarm but decided best not to question it. Perhaps the magical butterfly that had visited me in my dream had decided to also set me an alarm like the kind gentleman that he was. I climbed out of bed, only to realize I had been tucked in when I distinctly remembered just collapsing onto it. I pursed my lips in thought when a familiar strawberry blonde angel exited the bathroom.

“Ah, you’re awake!” I jumped a little, startled at Rox’s sudden appearance. “Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude. Parlim summoned me. Wanted to discuss some stuff about the future of Earth on the off chance I ever inherit it and said I could stay as long as I wanted. Come on, hurry up, let’s get you dressed.” I frowned a little at the explanation. Poor naive Rox had no idea that Parlim likely read my mind while I was asleep and summoned Rox to ensure I got to the meeting on time. Rox tossed me the jacket, shirt, and pants we bought earlier and jokingly covered his eyes as I changed. We were out the door in five and back to the sewers in ten. Habiltís and Zhamós had a whole stash of spray paint cans waiting for us. I didn't ask where they got them. A quick demonstration of how to use the cans later and the Haskótte was on its way to commit some vandalism. Classic resistance move.

Every member of the resistance traveled in pairs, one member running the streets and the other traveling by rooftop. Zhamós had laid out specific stations for every pair and a contingency plan had been laid out should any be compromised. I wasn't sure if that would happen. Parlim undoubtedly knew of the oncoming paint attack, but given it was a relatively harmless incident, I felt like he would let it slide under the radar.

I could hear the soft jingling of the paint cans strapped to my belt as I ran through the city. Rox was running across the roofs above me. For now, we were alone, the closest xokhafels about a block over. I stopped at our specific point and tapped my chin, a blank white canvas spread out before me. The light from another building cast my shadow against the wall. Rox leaped down from the roof and wrapped his arm around me.

“Inspiration struck yet?” he asked. I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“Shouldn't you be keeping watch?” I teased before pausing at the sight of Rox’s wings against the wall. “Stay here, don't move.” Rox paused but did as I said. Walking closer to the wall, I drew one of the cans and began to spray along the shadow of his wings. After a moment, I had a black outline of Rox’s wings and was filling in the details. I paused, an idea striking me, and I began to draw a pair of eyes, one eye in the center of each wing. Placing the black can on the ground, I switched to a purple can and began to color in the eye, leaving a white stripe for the pupil. I glanced at the can. Special quick dry xokhafel formula. Huh. So these guys were good for something. They knew how to make spray painting less time-consuming. Taking a dark blue out of my belt, I sprayed the upper half of each eye then picked up a white can and began to spray in dots. Rox crossed his arms as he walked up next to me.

“Mm… need a bit more purple in the blending area,” he said, holding out the can to me. I took it and did as he instructed. He could see my eyes better than I could anyway. Shaking up a yellow can, I held it out to him. Rox smirked and snatched it from me before flapping his wings and carefully going along the dark outlines of the wings to create a sort of golden glow. When he landed, the two of us took a step back and looked over our work. It was a masterpiece. A large pair of wings, Rox’s wings, with my eyes. A memento of our love that would barely last two days if the angels had their way about this vandalism. I quickly gathered up the cans and slipped them back into their holsters. I was about to start jogging to the exit point when Rox put his hand on my chest. “You know, this whole city could use a bit more color.” I broke into a devilish grin and pulled out the can of green paint. I tossed it to Rox before pulling out the red paint. Taking off in a sprint, I began to spray the color everywhere, on walls, doors, the ground, anywhere it would stick. I pulled out the blue paint and started spraying that as well.

Rox and I passed a couple of xokhafels finishing up their painting. It was the silhouette of a Haskótte. Before I could stop him, Rox flew over and began to add some green, creating a paint splatter effect. The xokhafels were shocked at first, but given their whooping, they liked the added touch. Seeing what Rox and I were doing, the two began to spray color everywhere as well. By the time Rox and I reached the sewer hole entry point, all the streets nearby were covered in a rainbow of colors. I was a bit startled at how happy this was making me feel. I hadn’t spray painted like this in so long, I suppose I had just forgotten how fun it was. I was undercover, sure, but perhaps for just one night, I could enjoy myself.

Rox and I took the sewers back to the hotel. There were few people around, other than the xokhafels who had no concern for us. Rox gave me a goodbye kiss as he exited the elevator at his stop and I could not keep the smile from my face as I ascended to my floor. This was such a nice feeling, I rarely ever experienced this kind of enjoyment, so I did my best to relish in it while I could. I sighed happily to myself as I walked to my room. I got out my key and opened the door, only for all my euphoric emotions to quickly drain to my feet.

Two sets of eyes came to meet mine. There were two individuals seated at the table inside my room. One was Parlim, the man pausing in his sip of tea as I entered. This was not unexpected, but the other visitor I never expected. Still, everything made sense now. Sitting across from my father was a rather large alhein xokhafel. He turned towards me with unamused eyes, his expression seeming to be his constant state of emotion. I closed the door behind me, not wanting any random passerby to catch sight of the red and orange horned xokhafel from the hall. It would not be good if the leader of the Haskótte rebellion was caught meeting with the head seer for Earth.

“Good evening,” I said quietly, bowing towards my father and Zhamós. “I apologize. I would have knocked if I had known my father was expecting company.” Parlim waved off my comment.

“Nonsense, Michelangelo. Come, sit, tell us about tonight. Was the mission successful?” I swiftly moved across the room and took my seat. I did my best not to stare at Zhamós. While I had seen him purposefully poison Maykrotot in my vision earlier, I still found myself in a state of disbelief. The leader of the rebellion was a traitor? No wonder the Haskótte rarely succeeded at any attempts of rebellion.

“It went well, sir. We painted the town so many different colors. It would make the Mad Hatter proud.” Parlim chuckled at the joke and pat my shoulder. “Overall, I would say it was a success. It has given the rebel group a false sense of hope, so they will likely take a more risky course of action soon. I believe that will be the opportune time to strike.” Parlim nodded his head in understanding before looking at Zhamós.

“Would you agree?” he asked the rebellion leader. Zhamós nodded his head.

“Yes. I was thinking if this went well, we set our sights on the betsweis camp where there have been a variety of rebellions in lately. It would give the angels a chance to not only crush the rebellion but also catch the two fugitives hiding amongst them,” Zhamós explained, giving me the impression this had been the plan from the beginning. “But of course, per usual, this can only happen for the right price.” Parlim lifted up a briefcase from beside his feet and held it out to Zhamós.

“Do I not always deliver? Please, Zhamós, you may be greedy, but please have some faith in me.” I frowned. Was that it? Zhamós was betraying his people because he suffered from extreme avarice? I felt that this was eerily similar to the situation at the beginning of angel contact when those two representatives sold out their whole species. Truly, this was a very greedy group of people. “Well, Zhamós, I believe that is all for the night. You may go.” The xokhafel stood up, bowed to my father and me, then exited the room. Parlim said nothing to me for the rest of the night. He didn’t need to. I knew what this meant. The rebellion was going to crash and burn in a spectacular display of flames, and I needed to stay as close to Rox as possible to protect him for when that happened.

***

Whatever sense of euphoria I had felt the night I went spray painting was long gone now. I needed to stay focused, which was hard enough with Rox’s mere presence being a great distraction. Still, I had to push through it. The angels waking up to a colorful town had not blown over well with the angels and hybrids in charge of Alsondysi. It had resulted in worse results than I had imagined. There was a curfew instituted and more guards everywhere. I knew for a fact that only reason the rebellion had not been caught yet relied solely on the fact that Zhamós and I were orchestrated the squashing of this bug once and for all. Now, three days after I committed my first acts of vandalism on Alsondysi, I was moving out with the rebellion towards a breeding camp not far from the capital.

It was always intriguing to me to see how propaganda was handled on every planet. I had not thought to suspect the news anchors as liars until I was informed that the breeding camp everyone kept saying the angels had control of but was just prone to rebellions had actually been a Haskótte stronghold for several months now. Supposedly the angels had attempted to retake the camp on multiple occasions now but always failed. Something told me that was not without an ulterior reason.

As I was led through the camp towards the meeting room for the discussion of the rebellion, I observed the multitude of betsweis in the area. So many of them had birth defects, or at least, what the xokhafels labeled as such. I would make the argument that on a resort planet with mainly diurnal creatures as their main source of customers, having sight during the daylight was valuable. But then again, defects such as lacking horns, wings, or tails were not the most desirable traits either. Plus, the obvious implications of inbreeding disgusted me. They claimed to have been forced to commit such acts, but I sometimes wondered if that were really true. I would not put it above such savages to take pleasure in any form they could obtain it.

Zhamós led Rox and me inside a meeting room. There were four others already inside. Araxie and Habiltís were seated at the other side of the table, but the other two individuals were people I did not know. To the right of the table was a large reptilian creature, not unlike the sea serpents of Norse mythology. He was crimson in color, his face was narrow with his fangs protruding from his mouth created an underbite. His eyes were green and slit like mine with a solid black pupil. Two jagged lines of fins ran from the base of his neck down to the base of his back. In between, there was a growth of bioluminescent moss that gave off a green glow. He was very muscular and slightly intimidating with his large arms and a long tail with multiple sets of fins at the end of his tail. My only comfort was that he seemed ill-equipped to be dwelling on land given his lack of legs and the breathing gear he was forced to wear on top of the gills on the sides of his neck. I frowned, trying to figure out what he was when it struck me. He was a sjø! Which meant the red brown liquid swirling in his breathing equipment was bromine. I scratched my throat as I swallowed, setting a mental reminder to not touch his breathing equipment. While not deadly to sjø, liquid bromine was toxic to humans and seers, so it was ideal for Rox and me to not breath it in or touch it.

I turned my attention to the other side of the table. A brown wolf was seated in one of the chairs with burning scarlet eyes trained on me. Sparks and flames appeared in the air around him, emanating from his fur. In the center of his chest was a black brand of a cross, appearing as if it had been burnt there. If this wolf creature was the member of an alien species, I knew not what it was. Perhaps it was a member of the species of shapeshifters from three systems over, but it seemed unlikely given that if this were true, then this wolf was a member of a servant species, and servant species were forbidden to use portals. The only exception was in a case like mine, where we had an angel escort to take us places.

“Good, everyone's here. We can begin.” Zhamós gestured for us all to sit. I took my seat next to Rox and listened quietly as Zhamós began to explain the current situation. “I thank you all for coming here today. It is great to see that our rebellion has so much support from all sides. If all goes well here, hopefully, we can return the favor to the sjø when the time comes.” I saw the Crimson sjø nod his head in agreement. “As you can see, we have taken over this breeding camp and we have plans to take over one of the labor camps not too far from here.” Zhamós unfurled a map in the center of the table and pointed to one of the two red Xs on the map. “We are here. This red X is the alhein labor camp. If we leave right after the sun sets we can make it to the camp with the element of surprise within about five hours. The alheins do work at night, but from what we can gather intel-wise, the angels start to nod off pretty quickly during the night. Even after being here for a while, it seems that their biological clocks are not used to the lack of light.”

“It’s probably due to the inherent fact that most of the angel guard is sent straight from Heaven’s training camps. While I am used to the lack of daylight due to Earth having an interesting sun cycle that changes throughout the year, Heaven’s is very strict. It’s almost the exact opposite of Alsondysi. Thirty hour day, twenty-four of which are daylight and six of which are a night. Most angels rely on sunlight for various biological purposes, one of which is the creation of iron to keep us awake. Since these angels are undoubtedly not receiving enough iron, they are probably suffering from fatigue.” I glanced at Rox, impressed with his knowledge. It appeared that he had been paying attention during the tutoring lessons his father always scheduled. Well, at least he had paid attention in some of them.

“Interesting. We will need to use this to our advantage then. Azrael, have you been able to gather any new intel from your masters about the current standing of the competition?” I tensed up immediately and I saw Rox’s face pale considerably at the name drop. The wolf looked over at us and gave us a toothy smirk.

“What? Surprised to see me not chained to the gates of Hell? Trust me, I get out from time to time, though it is quite difficult in this body. Still not used to walking around on all fours even after all these millennia.” Azrael turned to Zhamós and gave a shrug. “Somewhat. It appears that even they are not entirely sure what the current status is. From what I could gather, it sounded like most of the contestants were actually working together and traveling towards Kyoto with a ronin acting as their guide. Whether or not I actually heard this correctly is beyond me, but still, it appears that the fallen angel, Raven, and the rank two archangel, Malak, have yet to pair up with the group. I am unsure of what their current location is, but from the grave expressions my masters got when they spoke of them, it did not sound good.”

“So we still have time to capture more camps before one of them returns and determines whether or not this will break into an all out war or a peaceful transfer of power.” Zhamós was about to continue when Azrael raised his paw.

“I heard something else that you might want to hear. It appears the future queen has demanded to visit this camp in order to try to convince the betsweis to stop rebelling. Something tells me that no one has told her the truth of the situation yet. We could possibly use this to our advantage, maybe kidnap and hold her for ransom? Or show her the truth of what is going on right under her nose.”

“The queen not knowing the truth of the situation is nothing new,” I said quietly. All eyes turned to me. “You know us seers, we like to discuss those that we serve There’s a reason we’re always so quiet in public, we’re always listening for the juiciest gossip to pass along amongst ourselves. When I first arrived here, my father and the head seer for Alsondysi discussed a vision that one of the betsweis that had entered the portal would be the victor of the competition. They intended to do something about it, though I know not what because I was dismissed before I could hear further. However, I found it interesting that they had no intention of informing the future queen of any of this. Apparently, they think she will be sympathetic to the rebel cause.”

“So it seems that if we do lure her here, we might be able to convince the queen to forsake her angel roots and give Alsondysi back to its rightful rulers,” Araxie said from across the table. There were nods all around. So it looked like we have two plans of action. “I say, we wait for the best opportunity to attack the alhein camp, but also have a charismatic group here, so that way if the future queen does come, we can convince her to join our cause.”

And that settled it. Zhamós dismissed all of us, except Habiltís, so that he could call in some others to discuss battle plans for taking over the alhein labor camp. I excused myself, wanting to make a call to Parlim in private. I had to hope in the five minutes I would be gone Rox would not get himself shot. I really did not want to leave him but this call was important. As I was about to reach my spot to make the call, I heard claws clicking on the ground behind me. I turned around and saw Azrael a few paces behind me.

“What do you want?” I asked curtly, not wanting to waste too much time away from Rox. Azrael’s tail swished behind him. He tilted his head before grinning,

“Oh, nothing. I just find you curious. You seem disgusted by this place, and yet, didn’t you come from a camp just like it?” I narrowed my eyes. It was common knowledge all servant species were bred like this. I was no exception. The main difference was, my mother died in childbirth, and due to legal issues, I had been placed in my father’s custody. It was the first time in many years such a thing had happened, but it was not unheard of in seer history.

“I did not grow up in the camps. Surely you heard of the court case. Jonasio v. Regime. Parlim won the rights to me and the rest is history.” Azrael chuckled a little and moved closer to me.

“Ah, so that’s who you are. It explains why the Earth delegation has such a young advisor. Most do their training on the seer home planet or in Heaven, but you are doing yours on Earth. Do you intend to stay there forever?”

“I go where my master goes,” I replied simply. And that was the truth. I was Rox’s advisor after all, not Antioch’s. Antioch did not need me, he was adept enough to not need an advisor at this stage in his royal career. Rox, however, did not always think things through. He was in desperate need of an advisor if he was to appear anywhere in public. The only reason I had not been allowed to attend earlier was due to competition rules barring the attendance of additional guests beyond the one listed. And yet, here I was anyway.

“I see. Well, good day to you then. I hope whatever path you choose in life is the right one. I stand by my decisions in life and you should too.” Azrael turned and walked away. I stared after the wolf and frowned. What was he suggesting? That I was making the wrong decision? Preposterous! I was protecting Rox, after all. What did that angel know anyway? He had been banished for defying the regime anyway. I was doing the exact opposite; I was helping the regime.

I walked off to a secluded area and make one more sweep of my surroundings before pulling out my crystal. I sent a thought of Parlim to the crystal and it began to call his crystal.

“Hello?” Parlim answered in a quiet voice. “Michelangelo?”

“Yes sir,” I replied, “I have news,” I explained everything I had learned through the course of the meeting. Parlim paused before chuckling. “What's so funny?” I asked in a serious tone.

“The future queen does intend to visit you. I was hoping you would call so I could tell you but Zhamós has beaten me to the punch.” Parlim sighed before saying, “I've got a mission for you. If you succeed in this, the rebellion and this little fruitless competition will be crushed, and Rox will be safe. Are you up to it?”

“Anything if it guarantees Rox’s safety,” I responded without hesitation, “What are my orders?”

“The queen will visit within one day’s time and undoubtedly if she meets with the rebels, peace will be achieved, but not on the terms we want. You must find her, kill her, and the media will take care of the rest.” I was silent. That was quite the tall order. “Am I clear?” I paused in thought before shaking my head to clear my head.

“Yes, Parlim.” I had to do this. It would protect Rox, create peace for the regime, and restore balance. Parlim hung up after that. Slipping the crystal back into my robes, I turned back and started to look for Zhamós. Since he was like me, I could convince him to let us welcome the queen then I could pin the assassination on Zhamós and the rest would be history. I walked back to the conference room only to hear someone shout my name,

“Mikey!” I turned only to be enveloped in a bear hug by Rox. He lifted me off the ground and spun me around. He held me in his arms like I was a small child and I laughed.

“Man, those workouts are starting to pay off,” I commented. Rox lowered me a little and kissed my nose.

“It probably helps that you weigh next to nothing. My bench press workout makes you look like a feather. Not that I mind.” Rox lowered me back down to the ground and gestured back where he came from. “You on your way to do something?”

“I was about to ask Zhamós something about the queen potentially visiting but I think he's still busy with the attack plans. Do you need me?” Rox shrugged a little and began to lead me towards the center of the camp.

“Well, I was hoping to at least equip you with a weapon and maybe spend some quality time with you. Plus some of the betsweis were intrigued by us.” Yes, I had noticed that as well. Many of the betsweis had been giving us curious looks. Probably because a relationship between an angel and any servant species was generally frowned upon. Those that were unaware of Rox’s human half were usually very confused.

“Well then let's get started. I've got nothing better to do.” Rox walked me over to a building towards the center of the camp. It was the tallest building for miles around and it was the main breeding center for the betsweis. This building was none of my concern, however. Rather, I was more focused on the shack outside the building that was currently being used as a weapons depot. We approached the betsweis currently manning it and Rox waved.

“Yo! Gastajmi! I'm back and I brought Mikey!” The betsweis waved back. They had a large grin on their face which would normally be quite heartwarming except the xokhafel had warthog fangs protruding from the edges of their mouth. Inbred defect. Poor thing. “Think you can figure out what weapon would be best suited for him?” Rox asked. I glanced at Rox, noting the new pistol hanging from his belt. That wasn’t just any pistol either. It was a Peradas R492, a xokhafel revolver that fired Indium bullets. While not all that toxic to humans, Indium was especially deadly to a variety of species across the universe, including but not limited to xokhafels and seers. I was not sure why but that sight of the revolver put me on edge. Did Rox know about my betrayal? Had he picked that gun specifically to taunt me?

“Well, let’s see. He doesn’t seem like the revolver-type like you, but he’s definitely a pistol guy, I can tell. Mostly because the kick from any other gun will knock him back on his ***.” My nostrils flared at the comment. They may have been kidding but I took that as an insult even if Gastajmi was correct in that assessment. Gastajmi cocked their head back and forth a little bit before ducking underneath the booth and producing an automatic pistol. “Perhaps this will be a better fit.” I eyed Gastajmi suspiciously before approaching and picking up the weapon. It was cold, meaning it had not been used recently. I knew how to fire a gun, Parlim had forced me to practice many years ago. Though he stopped the lessons and practice after I “accidentally” shot him in the leg while aiming for a target behind him. Whoops. I went through the motions of holding the gun and testing the weight. It was light, but not as light as the revolver probably was. It also felt very easy to move around, but there was something about this gun that bothered me. I had seen this design before, but I couldn’t place where.

“What is it called?” I asked quietly, lowering the gun and returning my attention to Gastajmi. They smiled and shrugged.

“I do not know the name in Angelicus, but I can tell you its design was not made on Alsondysi. Some angels imported the guns or something like that. My comrades called it, the “Saherimos Adtir.” Perhaps you can translate?” Suddenly the gun felt a lot heavier in my hands as the power of the pistol overwhelmed me. Hell yeah, I could translate. I took a deep breath and said,

“Yeah. They call it the “Desert Eagle”.” Gastajmi whistled and nodded their head.

“Intense name, my friend. Given the power that pistol supposedly punches, I would say that is warranted.” Gastajmi gestured behind us and I caught sight of some other betsweis coming to retrieve weapons. “Well, I have others I need to arm. Take care and don’t accidentally shoot anyone.” How could they joke about that? Rox and I began to walk away from the stand. Zhamós and the others still hadn’t exited the conference room so I still had time to kill. I was about to suggest we relax somewhere when Rox grabbed my arm.

“Hey! Look come here!” I allowed Rox to drag me towards a group of betsweis with the sjø. I sat down with them and Rox beamed. “Hey, everybody, I’m back.” There were greetings all around and I was not surprised that Rox was already friends with all these people. He was very kind by nature. “So, where were we? Slahav, do you remember?” The sjø nodded his head and said in a deep hard to understand voice,

“You were discussing your relationship with Michelangelo.” Rox wrapped his arm around me at the mention of my name and pulled me slightly closer.

“Right right! Okay so, Mikey can probably explain this better than me but I’ll do my best. So, as you know, Mikey is a seer, a dream seer specifically. His mother was a dream seer, right?” Rox looked at me and I nodded in confirmation. “Yeah so, long story short, seers are usually raised in camps like this as well, but Mikey is a special exception. Apparently, every century or so a seer mother will die in childbirth, which by seer law means that the child must be raised by the nearest female relative. The thing is though, Mikey doesn’t have any other female relatives. His parents don’t have any siblings, and neither does he, so it created this huge legal issue of who was Mikey to be raised by. Parlim, the head seer for Earth and Mikey’s father, ended up taking the issue to court and won the right to raise Mikey. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, but it’s the only recent case?”

“The last one occurred about three-thousand years ago, which while not an enormously long amount of time, it was long enough that the courts thought the decision needed to be readdressed,” I interjected for Rox. “So I was sent to Earth to be raised by my father. Rox was born about the same time, a few years earlier I believe? We grew up together since at an angel’s palace there is usually not many children to play with, so we were inseparable. Antioch, Rox’s purebred older brother, played with us a lot too but as the heir to the throne, he got pulled away from us a bit too much to really bond as much as Rox and I did.” I glanced and smirked at Rox. “Though that was probably for the best. Rox is a bit of a bad influence.” Rox laughed and punched me in the shoulder.

“You’re not wrong. Man, could you imagine Antioch tagging along with us on all the shenanigans we got into?” I shook my head as I smiled. “One time, Mikey and I found the hedge clippers while exploring and trimmed all the shrubs into the shapes of butts. Truly a work of art for us as children. They never did hide those things very well either. Let’s just say those poor hedges got some more interesting shapes in the future. Of course, that isn’t all we’ve done. Rox helped fuel a number of conspiracy theories around the world. He stole one of the sculptures from the castle once and placed it in Salem, New Hampshire, United States, a country on Earth. Now everyone calls it “America’s Stonehenge” and it’s this huge worldwide conspiracy as to where it came from. We also stole the Florentine Diamond. Rox keeps it in his room at the castle alongside the Irish crown jewels. Point is, we stole a lot of stuff and spray painted a bunch of things and may have staged a decent amount of fake crop circles and UFO sightings because why not.” While I doubted these guys knew entirely what I was talking about, giving the smiles on their faces, they were enjoying the stories of a seer and a royal half-angel engaging in all sorts of pranks and trouble.

“We started dating… right after the Irish Crown Jewels right?” I nodded my head and tapped my collarbone.

“You “proposed” to me with one of the collars of the Knight Members of the Order. Viscount Cole’s collar, I believe it was.” I looked at the others. “He lets me keep that one in my room,” I said with a wink, earning a few laughs. “But yeah, Parlim wasn’t too happy to find out we were dating but he allowed it because Rox can never be the heir to Earth’s thrown. He is a bastard child, technically, no offense.” Rox waved off the comment, knowing I meant no harm by it. “So we’re allowed to date, for now. I believe Parlim will eventually cut us off, though, so we intend to elope as soon as my seer training is complete. Once I learn to control my visions, or at least have some form of control over them, we’ll leave.”

“Why is that such an issue?” Slahav asked, scratching the back of his neck. “On my planet, the seers usually learn to control their visions by the time they are much younger than you.” I folded my sleeves a bit and shrugged a little.

“That is true, most seers have their visions mastered the latest when they are four-hundred years old. There are exceptions to every rule, however. To put this in the simplest terms, there are three types of seers, those that receive their visions while they are awake, those that receive their visions while they are asleep, and those that can receive them at either time. I am a dream seer, meaning I receive mine while I am asleep. My father, however, receives his at any given time. As a result, it is not uncommon for the children of cath seers to occasionally receive visions when they are not meant to. I have had it happen to me three times to date. And while on their own, these visions would not be much of nuisance, a dream seer’s body is not meant to handle visions while they are awake, thus causing the brain and body to go into freak out mode when I receive these visions. I’ve been fortunate that I’ve only had one serious risk happen, but every time these things happen, I’m more likely to die. It is very similar to a game on Earth known as Russian Roulette. You have possibly heard of it?”

“We call it the Angel’s Shotgun here, but yes,” a betsweis answered.

“Yes, so, much like that game, the more often these visions occur, the riskier it is to my health. In fact, the second time it happened, I suffered a heart attack. It was minor and I was able to fully recover from it other than the occasional chest pain, but it was just an example of what could possibly happen to me in the future. If I learn to control these visions, however, then I will never be under this risk again. So my focus has always been to learn how to control my day visions. Night visions are less difficult to master anyway, so if I learn how to master day visions, then it won’t be too much of a stretch to master my night visions either.”

“You two make a cute couple,” one of the smaller betsweis said quietly, bringing a large grin to Rox’s face. “When you guys elope, please do come and visit Alsondysi sometime. Either come to celebrate our freedom with us, or come to honor our memories at the mass graves we will all be buried in.” It took every muscle in my jaw to prevent my smile from falling. That was a rather grim way of looking at it, though I supposed it was true. Not that I really cared. They were kind creatures, but these betsweis could easily be replaced in my life. To me, they were expendable. Rox, however, was not.

I was about to say something when the door to the conference room opened and several betsweis exited. Zhamós, however, did not. Good, it was show time. I leaned up and kissed Rox’s chin.

“I need to go speak with Zhamós now, while he’s free. I’ll catch up with you later?” Rox nodded his head and kissed my forehead.

“Yep. I’ll try not to be seduced while you’re gone. None of these betsweis are as pretty as you.” I laughed at that and rolled my eyes. I stood up while shaking my head, noting that the other betsweis seemed almost envious of Rox and me’s relationship. I shrugged it off and walked to the conference room. I knocked on the door as I walked in.

“Yes?” Zhamós greeted without looking up. I closed the door behind me and said,

“I've received the order from Parlim. The queen must die. She will visit within a day’s time. You and I should be the only ones to greet her. We blame it on the rebellion and escape without a scratch. Parlim will, of course, pay you more for your services.” That last part was obviously a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. Zhamós circled something on the map in front of him. He paused before saying,

“And what makes you think I’ll help you?” he asked in a low voice. I hesitated, my fingers slipping into my sleeve. That was not a question I was prepared to answer. I didn’t like the sound of it either.

“My apologies. I just assumed due to your previous cooperation with my father that you were on the same side as us.” Zhamós laughed and shook his head. He looked up at me with narrow eyes and put down his pencil.

“Oh, you poor naive child. You seers really are just blind fools. I was never on your side from the start. Why do you think they broadcast on the news that the angels still have control of this place? Until a few days ago, the angels didn’t even know we held control of this place. I’ve been feeding them false information with tiny bits of truth and then using the money to fund the revolution. It was working perfectly too until some of my fellow rebels started sticking their noses where they didn’t belong. So, I took care of Maykrotot in an attempt to ax both he and his brother, but when that failed I told some of the angels to send Muzapo to Japan, which took care of him. As for Habiltís, I think he is still suspicious, but he is no longer barking up my tree. I think he’s caught the warning I was sending. All was fine until you saw me. I suspected you were a spy the whole time. You aren’t an open book like your boyfriend, so I couldn’t get a read on you, but from the moment Habiltís brought you to the sewers, I knew you were not as you seemed. And now that I have confirmation, I’ll just have to eliminate you.”

Zhamós was quick. In the blink of an eye, the alhein had his fangs bared and was charging at me with claws ready to attack. Too bad he didn’t know I was armed and trained. I ducked out of the way of his first slash and smiled, slamming my shoulder into his solar plexus. The alhein stumbled back coughing and I seized the opportunity. Drawing the Desert Eagle from my sleeve, I cocked the gun, took aim, and fired. Zhamós’s eyes got wide before a hole suddenly appeared in his chest. The alhein stumbled back from the force, a clawed hand coming up to touch the hole in his chest. He stared at me in shock before collapsing and bleeding out on the floor. I frowned, perhaps I had been a bit too hasty. I looked around the room and spotted a large map nearby. Placing the gun back inside my large sleeves, I walked over to the map and tore it down before laying it over Zhamós’s body. Hopefully, this would disguise him for a bit. I pondered for a moment what to do next when someone busted into the room. I looked up to see Habiltís. The betsweis was wide-eyed and breathing hard.

“Princess Valika has arrived,” they gasped out. They looked around before contorting their face in confusion. “Where is Zhamós?” they asked. I was about to give some made up excuse before Habiltís followed up with, “Why is that map on the floor? And is that… blood?” I sighed a little and drew my gun again. Habiltís stared at me, backing slowly towards the door.

“Sorry, Habiltís. I was really hoping to not kill you, given you carry an unborn child. But you know too much now, and I must protect Rox from being tainted further by your rebel lies.” I took aim and shot. Habiltís was thrust back against the wall and collapsed to the floor, a bullet wound in their right shoulder. It wasn’t fatal on its own, but Habiltís was likely to bleed out if I had my way about things. All that mattered was that they were out cold, or dead, I wasn’t sure which and I personally didn’t care. I wasn’t one to waste bullets anyway, not when my target was already here. I stepped outside the conference room, locking the door before closing it behind me. At least that way people were less likely to notice the absence of the two leaders for a little while.

I lifted my head to the sky and noted the holy aura that emanated from the top of the tall breeding center. So she was at the top huh? I hid my gun again, keeping my grip on it as I walked as discreetly as possible towards the breeding center. Rox was nowhere to be seen, none of the people I had been talking to earlier were paying me any attention, and it looked like the weapons depot was unmanned right now too. Perfect. I slipped inside unnoticed and started to make my way to the elevator when a familiar face walked up beside me as I pushed the up button. I glanced to my right. It was Araxie. Great.

“You going to greet Princess Valika too?” she asked. I nodded my head silently. There was a ding as the elevator arrived. The doors slid open with a hiss and we stepped inside. Araxie pushed the button for the top floor and the doors closed. “I’m excited, are you excited? Imagine if we could get the future queen of Alsondysi on our side! The rebellion would be unstoppable. Then we could help free the sjø, the seers, the fallen, and all the other species the regular angels discriminate against! Finally, maybe each planet could be its own kingdom. That would be nice. Don’t you agree?” I glanced at her before shrugging.

“The angels have brought a lot of good. I do not particularly mind them. I may be biased though. Still, that does not change my stance on things. The regime should not fall.” Araxie turned to me with a confused expression and started to ask me something when I drew my gun and fired, the bullet plunging into her shoulder. I bit my bottom lip as she collapsed. Dang it, I was pulling right. I couldn’t make such a mistake with Princess Valika. I walked over to Araxie, who was still awake and kicked her in the face. She slumped to the side, blood pouring out of her nose. The elevator doors opened and I stepped out. A smile grew on my face as I approached the future queen. She was exposed, vulnerable, and ready for the kill. Problem was, I quickly realized she was not alone.

“Mikey?” I froze and turned my head to see Rox by the edge of the roof. He was staring at me with an emotion on his face I had never seen him wear before. I realized he could see Araxie in the elevator behind me. I panicked, unsure what to do. “Mikey, what is going on? Where are Habiltís and Zhamós? Why is Araxie bleeding out in the elevator?” I didn’t answer, floundering for an explanation of any kind, but nothing was coming to me. Rox did not take my silence well. “Did you kill them, Mikey?” I looked at Princess Valika briefly. She seemed to be in quite the bit of shock, but I had a clear shot at her. I started to aim at her when Rox stepped in between me and Princess Valika. “Stop that!” he shouted.

“Rox, move!” I shouted back. The half-angel refused to listen to me. Instead, he drew his pistol and took aim at me. My grip on the Desert Eagle tightened. “You wouldn’t,” I growled out. Rox narrowed his brown eyes at me and cocked his gun.

“I would. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I will stop you if you continue your current actions.” Rage started to beat through me, snaring onto my every thought. How dare he say that! I was doing all of this for him! That ungrateful entitled royal. Didn’t he understand that I was putting everything on the line just to make him happy? I shifted my aim slightly and shot at the ground next to Rox’s foot. The half-angel jumped back instinctively, moving more towards the edge of the roof. Before he could recover properly, I shot at his other foot. Rox jumped out of the way again, expanding his wings to keep his balance.

“Don’t try to stop me, Rox. This doesn’t concern you. I will get you out of here. We can go back to Earth and pretend none of this nonsense ever happened. We can go back to pranking the humans and studying up on other planets to elope to. Just like we always do,” I offered. Rox’s expression twisted and he took aim at me again.

“Stop. Don’t talk like that. You never talk like that. Just put the gun down and we will figure this out. Put the gun down, Mikey, that’s an order.” Something snapped in me in that moment.

“Oh it’s an order is it?” Rox never ordered me around. In fact, he had made a promise to never treat me as a lesser. That included ordering me around. “Well, too bad, silver spoon child, but I’m not listening to any order you give. You said it yourself, I was never to listen to any orders you give because I am not your servant, I am your friend, your equal. But I guess that meant nothing to you!” I snarled and shouted, “Did any of it mean anything to you? Or was every promise you made to me just some meaningless words to you? I am doing all of this to protect you!”

“I don’t need you to protect me!” Rox called out, “I have never needed you protecting me! I don’t need you to make my decisions and choose my words for me! I am not a doll you get to dress up, Mikey! This,” he gestured to the elevator that had long since closed, “is not what I want! It’s not what I need! What I need is for you to put the gun down and think this through. Stop this nonsense! It doesn’t have to be this way. Please, just put the gun down.”

“If that’s the path you’re going to choose then fine, suit yourself. You can go to Hell with the rest of these idiots in the rebellion!” Without thinking, I pulled the triggered. Two gunshots echoed in the night, followed by silence.

***

“Michelangelo? That’s a really complicated name.” I puffed out my cheeks at the half-angel prince’s comment. What did he know? I quite liked my name. The half-angel’s brother smacked him in the shoulder.

“Shush! Be nice!” he hissed at his younger brother.

“What? It’s the truth. It doesn’t fit him. It’s too… old person for him, like your name. He needs a cool name, like me!” I opened my mouth to protest when the half-angel snapped his fingers. “I got it! How about Mikey? I think it suits you perfectly!” I paused, thinking it over. It… was much easier to pronounce than Michelangelo.

“Well… okay. But only you guys can call me that! Father would be displeased if everyone didn’t address me by the name he picked for me,” I suggested. It was the truth. I was apparently named after some famous Earth painter, not that I really cared.

“Tell him to get better at picking names,” the half-angel muttered, earning him another slap from his brother. “Ouch! Antioch! Stop that!”

“I will when you learn to censor yourself. Sorry, don’t mind him. Rox doesn’t know when to shut his mouth sometimes.” I bowed a little.

“No no, it’s all right. I do not mind. Nothing he says is entirely wrong, after all.” Antioch stared at me in confusion before laughing and wrapping his arms around Rox and me.

“I like you. Welcome to the family, Mikey.”

***

“Are you sure this a good idea?” I stared at the wall in front of me before glancing around nervously. “We could get arrested for this.” Rox laughed and continued to spray paint the wall. He walked over and ruffled my hair before starting on a new line.

“Relax, Mikey. This is the tenth time you’ve asked that. We’ll be fine. We’re almost done anyway. Just need to finish the bottom. Can you line that corner?” I shook up the can and sprayed along the edge. Rox took a step back and crossed his arms. He smiled at our work, a cross with a golden glow and a long shadow. “Not bad. I like it. Okay, let’s pack up and-”

“Freeze!” Rox and I glanced down the alleyway to see two cops aiming their guns at us. “Put your hands up and get down on the ground.” I started to tremble. No no! Parlim would kill me if I got sent to jail! Thankfully, Rox was all about thinking on his feet. He reached into his pocket and slammed several paint bombs to the ground, then grabbed me and took off. It didn’t provide much cover but it was enough for us to escape unscathed. We reached the portal back to the palace without interruption. As we stumbled back into the palace gardens, I collapsed and tears began to trace down my cheeks.

“I am never doing that again!” I cried out. Rox laughed and sat down on the ground next to me.

“Oh please, don’t freak out. We got away, didn’t we? And we’ll always get away as long as we stick together.” Rox pulled me up into a makeshift hug and pat my back. “Because we’re an unstoppable duo. The guy who can see into the future and the guy who can fly. We can be superheroes or something!” I stared up at Rox, tears still pouring out of my eyes. After a moment I found myself starting to laugh as well. Rox poked my cheek. “See, there you go. There’s a smile.”

“You’re so silly. I’m still never doing this again though.”

“Aww what! You’re such a buzzkill, Mikey!”

***

“Dude, we did it. We stole the crown jewels of Ireland.” Rox and I lay back in his bed, the crown jewels of Ireland resting on the dresser across the room. “I still can’t believe we pulled it off. The world is going to go crazy over this, you know?” I nodded my head a little.

“Hey man, it’s a step up from vandalism isn’t it?” Rox laughed and punched my shoulder.

“Says the guy that was crying after we got busted for checking the hedges into the shape of a bunch of butts.” I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“Those were the old days. I’m a new man now. I’ve changed.”

“Oh have you?”

“Yeah, better believe. I’m braver and more daring now. You can’t scare me anymore, Rox Argo.” Rox sat up a little and leaned in closer.

“Oh really? Is that a challenge?” I leaned into Rox’s face and taunted,

“You better believe your *** it is.” Rox opened his mouth as if to say something before looking behind me.

“Oh hey, Parlim. What’s up?” Panic shot through me as I whipped around. I hadn’t heard the door open! Oh no no I was so-... not busted. I glared at Rox for the fakeout. The door was shut tight and Parlim wasn’t there.

“That’s a low blow! Not fair!” Rox burst into laughter and tugged me closer.

“Sure man, sure. I got another one. This one will definitely scare you.” Rox leaned in close again and whispered in my ear, “Commitment.” I lightly slapped him.

“Oh shut up, I’m not afraid of commitment.”

“Oh, you’re not are you?”


“No! I’m not like you, I don’t need to be free to be happy.”

“Well if that’s true then how would you feel about being tied down to me?” I paused, staring at Rox, trying to figure out if he was joking. I could find no sign that he was.

“Uh… I wouldn’t… be opposed… or anything.” Also, my false bravado had drained out of me. Rox watched me carefully. “You’re serious right?” Rox’s eyes darted to the side before he nodded.

“Yeah, I mean… yeah… I um… you know, I wouldn’t be against trying things out for a few dates or anything. If that’s all right with you.”

“Yeah, I’m fine with that. Do you have a date in mind?”

“How about… Saturday at eight?”

“Saturday at eight.”

***

My eyes widened in horror as time seemed to move in slow motion. Our guns fired and I immediately tried to call back my bullet, but it was too late. Rox had aimed his pistol at the sky, never intending to hurt me. My bullet sped right towards him, slamming right in between his ribs. A sick sense of déjà vu swept over me. He stumbled and I started to run after him, but I was too late. He lost his balance. We made eye contact as he fell backward. Rox was smiling. Only love shown in his eyes. I saw his lips move as they formed three words, “I love you.” He wasn’t mad at me for what I had done. He still loved me. But I was too late. In a split second, he was gone, hurtling towards the ground. I couldn’t bear to look. I didn’t want to see. No wonder I had never seen myself in that vision. I had been in it the whole time.

“What have I done?” I whispered to myself, my hands shaking as I clutched the Desert Eagle. “[i]What have I done?” I screamed. I let out a guttural, almost animalistic sound. I had killed him. The one person I had ever cared about was dead, and it was all because of me. Princess Valika flinched away and flapped her wings, starting to flee. My attention snapped to her at the motion and rage consumed me. This was her fault! If she had never hosted this competition in the first place, Rox would be alive! I took a step towards her and took aim.

“P-Please, stop! We can talk about this, okay?”

“Just shut up,” I replied in a quiet voice. “I just killed the only person in life I ever loved. Do you think I’m going to show you any mercy? Everything about you is a lie. It’s time the rebellion was squashed once and for all. I need to finish what I started, creating a world where Rox and I can be happy, even if he’s no longer here.” This time, I wouldn’t miss. “So let me be the first to tell you, welcome to Hell, little missy.”

I pulled the trigger.

[Neo Emolga]

Making Mad

I've heard many people complain about their jobs. You think your job is rough? You think mixing coffee that's more milk than anything else or scanning product barcodes sucks? Or are you tired of staring at a computer screen until your eyes fall out of your head? Try mine for a while. I dare you. I think I'd rather be a manure taste-tester than do what I've had to put up with for an abysmal FIVE SEASONS. I seriously don't know how this deplorable show continues to survive and somehow find creative new ways to stray further from God's light with every new episode.

My name is Singe. Singe the Skunk. One of many toon characters in the world that always had dreams of becoming an actor. In one way, I made it big. And not too many toons get that chance, but it was never what I had imagined. Four years of acting classes in college, several roles as extras and minor supporting characters, and now this. This, of all things. It was like the worst way I could accomplish my dreams. Like winning a Ferrari with an engine that won't get start up. At first, I thought this would just be another stepping stone, but now it has become all I'll really ever be known for.

I'm the villain in the mind-gratingly annoying children's cartoon called...

Ready Teddies.

Every time you say "Ready Teddies," an angel cries, someone gets diagnosed with dementia, a newborn baby bunny vomits, and somewhere a birthday cake drops face-down to the floor.

I had heard only yesterday that this abysmal excuse of a cartoon was getting signed up for a sixth season, precisely at the same moment Satan and Hitler decided to break ground for the installation of a tenth level in Hell where there are no weekends and delivery is available but they get your order wrong every time.

They never thought this dinky, stupid cartoon would become such a hit. Or at least I never did. In the beginning, I wasn't given a whole lot of information to go by. Mainly that I would be playing some mechanist villain who wanted to clobber teddy bears. Didn't sound half bad. Once I auditioned, they showed me the set in a studio just outside of Toonopolis in California. Everything was animated, of course. Nothing like reality television where they only star those "reality" people and "reality" animals, which us toons usually call "reals" for short. In order for it to be considered a true cartoon, they could only film toons in a cartoon set. All standard procedure, really.

They totally pulled the wool over my eyes. When I first learned what the story was with this garbage and it was too late to turn around, I just told myself just finish the first season and hope it never gets signed for a second. Of course that didn't happen.

In this abysmal cartoon of deceptively bright and happy colors, everyone lives in Dreamworld and because the writers traded their brains for bourbon, they decided to call the central focus of the cartoon the "Sugar Kingdom," ruled by King Cannoli and his wife, Queen Eclair. King Cannoli is a fat, chubby moron of a polar bear wearing the typical king's robe and golden crown while his wife is this cheeky, spoiling-the-children grandmother type that would still fatten and sugar up the kids with brownies and doughnuts even if they were on dialysis and missing their legs. Anyone who is diabetic has absolutely no reason to like this show.

And they have a daughter called Princess Cupcake, called the "sweetest sugar bear in the land" and is often seen tending the flowers, singing songs, writing poems, baking sweets, and making all her happy dreams come true because you can do that in Dreamworld. Don't get me wrong, they're bad, they're stupid, there's no sense of a realistic absolute monarchy political system in the Sugar Kingdom, but there's just this assumption "it all works" and the show goes on. Meanwhile, all the other civilians in the Sugar Kingdom are also based on adorable toon anthropomorphic animals. You'll have the bunnies that are mainly farmers, the cats who are mostly merchants, the pigs who are some kind of bad redneck stereotype... I don't even know what they really do, and some a bunch of others thrown into that mix. But it's the bears that also get regarded as the stars of the show.

And I'm the villain. Ooh, I'm the skunk! The sinister, stinky skunk! Yes, let's stereotype against the skunk just because of some smells, as if fouling up the air is the only thing skunks ever care to do in life! Bears have claws, can maul people, and eat the stuffing out of salmon. I think that's a heck of a lot more vile than just a splash of skunk juice because you were pissing me off. But no, I'm not even going to try to argue with logic on this one because that was launched out the window like a cigarette years ago when they even conceived of this heinous cartoon.

In Dreamworld, everything is happy and bright. Everything is painted in pastels, it only rains when I'm doing something extra-evil, and animal children are playing, everyone is happy, and I'm the one that tries to spoil it all by making robots and machines that blot out the sky, tear down houses, cause all kinds of environmental damage, and what have you all while wearing typical bad-guy black leather clothing and a bandana like some inner city street punk skunk.

When I was first signed up for this job, I said "oh, okay, this should help my acting career" but now it's my passion to wreck the set just because of how personal things have gotten even off the stage. Usually, tensions between toon characters are supposed to stop when the episode is over. We're actors, we don't really do this stuff outside of the cartoon when we clock out and go home! But not here! I get snide remarks from that Cannoli dingbat as I'm clocking out and he gets my middle finger stiff. Ever since the show became wildly popular, it got personal. Viciously personal, because it's like the stupid show never ends even after the credits roll all to the tune of that sanity-consuming theme song jingle. If you hate this show, you'd better be ready to shield your eyes whenever you're in a retail outlet, because the marketing and merchandising for this inanity is all over the place like smog on Shanghai. Many of the toons and the reals are into it for reasons that just escape me.

I'm not alone, thankfully. I'm joined by Roland the Rat, who wears a white lab coat and is actually a deep and philosophical guy off set, but plays as my mad scientist accomplice in the cartoon itself. So where I build machines of doom and gloom, he's screwing around with genetics, chemical weapons, and making monsters. But in reality he would love to see things like cancer and malaria cured and likes to invest in the stock market. Besides the two of us gentlemen, there's Punchy the Porcupine, who wears black leather and is this tough, brawler type of guy. Off stage, his real name is Pete and he wouldn't hurt a flea. He even has a family with a lovely wife named Paula and two very cute porcupine kids. But in this show, he's portrayed as a big, tough, dumb brawler bully that wouldn't even be loved by his own mother.

But I'm really the villain ringleader of the operation and I'm supposed to be evil, maniacal, and at times a little psychotic. Considering how horrible this show is and how much I hate the "good guys," it's very easy for me to get into character. Just outside of the Sugar Kingdom, I have my huge secret lair of shadows and darkness and I'm the CEO of "Stinky Industries" where I have my factories making all kinds of weapons, pollution, evil robots, and junk while polluting the oblivion out of the land. All of us were exiled from the Sugar Kingdom because of our evil behavior. I honestly would never want to live in that pastel-colored cesspool apocalypse anyway, even if this Dreamworld was an actual place in the world where toons like us lived.

So, it's our job to launch attacks on the Sugar Kingdom with our seemingly endless army of weasel goons that are actually hired as extras while trying to fulfill an unpaid internship either for experience or for college credit. With them are Roland's monsters, my machines, and Punchy sometimes making a random appearance. And sometimes they will be a guest villain cohort with barely any back-story that only appears for one episode. Sassy Snake only had to do one episode as the femme fatale type and she was gone. Lucky for her.

So why is the show called Ready Teddies? As you can probably tell, I've been stalling and saved the worst for last. They're the star sugary-cute "heroes" of the Sugar Kingdom and are King Cannoli's personal defenders. There are five of these bloody cutesy gremlins and they all have special powers, which isn't farfetched considered what many toons can do on a usual basis. This dippy cartoon is all about them and however the producers can market these deplorable teddy bears however they can. Plushes, action figures, comic books, and other foul farm-fresh creations straight out of a Chinese factory or sweatshop.

There's Peppy, a perky brown-furred bear that dresses in a blue and white striped sweatshirt and blue jeans. And this douche-canoe is the leader of the Ready Teddies. His special ability is he can draw, paint, and art the crap out of anything he wants and it jumps from the page into life to help the Teddies. He can even draw stuff like a fireball and then launch the thing like a magic spell.

Next is Picky, the darker-brown "rock-star" Teddy that makes his specialization in music and wears a white beat-up t-shirt that he probably got from a rummage sale and black cargo pants that looked like they had gone through a meat-grinder. He's the useless bard class in every MMORPG you've ever played. Well, in this crappy cartoon, he's more effective. His "rock-out" songs can help energize or boost the powers of the Teddies, or he can play them painfully loud for stunning his enemies. Stupid stuff like that. Whenever he plays that hateable, screeching stun song, it only affects us and no one else.

Lily is the third bear. A creamy-colored bear who wears a flower-themed linen dress that loves gardening, flower arranging, and is likely a militant vegan. She can instantly grow flowers and fruit that help give the bears even more ridiculous powers like giant growth, super speed, and stupid stuff like that. She can also grow vines and sentient plants that help make protective barriers or outright attack us "bad buys" with entangling vines or lovely sleep-inducing toxins.

Candy is number four. She probably has the dumbest power of all. She's a white bear that wears a baker's uniform and her specialty is cooking. She can bake things into life like gingerbread men or bake things like explosive ninja stars. Somehow these kinds of things can stop and destroy the machines I make. I don't get it either.

And last... but not least when it comes to crap factor, there's Prancy, the black-furred pink tutu-wearing ballerina bear that dances as her form of attack. Her dancing leaves the weasel interns spellbound and mesmerized while she somehow can combine ballerina dancing and Kung-Fu, breaking the bondages of sanity and logic to accomplish stupidity.

Those are the Ready Teddies. Somehow they found a way to make stupidity physically painful.

I thought they were painfully dumb since the very beginning with Season 1, Episode 1: A New Batch of Sugar and I have only grown to outright despise them even further as the seasons rolled on like having a root canal done every day. Problem is they got popular. Disgustingly popular. Mainly with little kids, but there's this... weird group of older guys that have a deep fascination and really adore the Ready Teddies despite their stupid powers and idiot theme songs. They draw the Ready Teddies. Then they make their own "fan characters." Then they start to feel emotionally connected with their made up fan characters. They create comics for them. They write fan fiction for them. They even freaking cosplay as the Ready Teddies at comic and anime conventions. Grown idiot guys, even in their late twenties, dressing up as freaking Lily, Candy, or Prancy at these things, and role-playing them. What the funk.

It had to come to an end. I had to find a way to make season six the last of this stupid cartoon that was eating away at the sanity of real, normal people and toons. Heck, forcing it to end early would be even better. Thing was, I couldn't just quit or do something too obvious like break character. They would just edit that out. And if I quit, they'd haul in some other skunk to play the part and I'd forever kill my career in acting only to flip burgers instead. No, I needed it to end abruptly on a bad note that ended the cartoon, but made me look innocent. There were still people out there that hated this show and I needed to be a source of hope for them all. Otherwise this could be going on forever or even start an unholy spawn of spinoffs.

I couldn't be too obvious. Whatever killed this show had to look like a freak accident or at least make it so they couldn't tell who was guilty. I just wanted the show to end so I could move on with my acting career and get into a serious and less humiliating production that didn't use every opportunity to humiliate me. Really, I get defeated in every episode in the cheesiest and most annoying ways. I have ended up face-down in the mud, thrown into a monstrous cake, stuck in a web of bubble gum, smothered with sticky caramel before having parrot feathers blown at me, and many other stupid outcomes. The thing is, toons recover from injuries much faster and much more effectively than things that would even kill reals, so of course we do all our own stunts. So all those stupid outcomes actually did happen. Do you know how painful it is to get bubble gum and caramel out of my fur? It sucks.


I had gotten to the set early. Earlier than even Director Ducken, though that chubby duck has been pretty dang late on several occasions. But me being there early was all because I wanted to see what the plans were for season six because it was making me lose sleep not knowing what was to come and what these miserable writers had been scheming all year long. Ten mind-numbing episodes were planned, but it was more and more of the same humiliating garbage without any sign of them finally wrapping things up at the season finale. Nope, with this, they could keep the madness easily going into a seventh season.

So I needed to act... within an act. Actception. Or something like that. When I took a look at the script again, I saw something that caught my eye. There was a certain thing about Season 6, Episode 3: "Honey Sting" that got me thinking. What if I did something... different? The gears got turning. What I imagined as the "alternative" was really something else. It was devious. Unruly. It broke the code, but in amazing ways. Should I really do it?

It made me wonder if those five Ready Teddies really deserved it. Well, if they treated me the same since the last time we gathered around to film, then I'd let them have it. So I figured treat Season 6, Episode 1: "A Few Too Many" and Season 6, Episode 2: "Beary Wary" the way they were supposed to go, although... ugh, reading how these were supposed to play out was just cringe-inducing. The writers were either hiring six year olds to do their jobs or they were seriously running out of ideas and were resorting to randomized generators.

I had been alone, pretty much sitting in the dim light as I was reading through the scripts for each episode. And that's when Candy showed up, wearing her baker uniform and marching in all proud and bright, though she seemed a bit surprised when she saw me reading away at the script while I was sitting on a metal folding chair.

"You're the first one here?" Candy asked me, sounding like she was amused by all this. "Can't wait to get started, eh, Stinky?"

"Absolutely," I replied sarcastically, flipping the page. "I'm eager to see how much I get to destroy this season."

Wow, Candy, really? Yeah, go ahead, call me Stinky again, you honey-gobbling tramp. This was exactly what I was talking about. Once the fame got into the heads of these bears, they really thought they were the heroes even outside of the show. Well, I guess it didn't help that the frenzied fans always went hyper whenever they were around.

Of course, the others soon showed up. I could tell Candy wanted to brag she had been the first, but now if she said that, she'd be lying. But I got a snippy and a snappy comment from all of them, right on cue. And that was the annoying part. They knew the writers had them winning in the script each and every episode! It was totally getting into their heads and for me, it was easily making me irate.

So, I had memorized my lines for Episode 1: "A Few Too Many." Bleh. Toons had a knack for memorizing lines quickly without the need for ridiculous needs of rehearsal. In some ways, that was kind of a curse and a blessing at the same time.

The whole episode was about how it was the 56th Annual Cake day in the Sugar Kingdom. King Cannnoli invited everyone to join in on the "fun," except for the bad guys of course. And there was a cake-eating contest, but of course they didn't want us there for that either. Oh please. Go on, feel free to fatten yourselves up with as many calories without me. Well, little old me sneaks a sedative into the flour they were using for cake mix just before gluttony day and the whole town snoozes out and I use the opportunity to steal just about everything in the castle treasury vault. But, of course, the dumb Teddies wake up earlier than anticipated, they use their magic powers to destroy the truck I use to haul the loot back to base, and they use their stupid powers and cakes to splat me in the face and I have the absolutely catastrophic outcome of having to go all the way home to take a shower. Oh well, whoop-di-do. But, according to the script, I had to treat it like they blew up my new Lamborghini.

Once filming began, I got to sit on the sidelines, just waiting and watching them film the opening scene with everything starting all bright, cheery, fun, and festive with all kinds of banners and hippity-hoppity fun! Oh, everyone was so excited! And I just kept thinking about all the good sports games I was missing.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it, Peppy?" Lily asks him, all bright and happy like the insults she flung at me earlier today never happened. "I love Cake Day!"

"Think it's better than Christmas?" Peppy asks with a curious smile.

"Oooh, I don't know!" Lily replies, suddenly giddy and excited. "I love 'em both! It's hard to decide!"

And of course, everyone in town is selling these things because why have a holiday if you can't capitalize on it? Peppy can't decide whether to try a chocolate one first or go for strawberry shortcake! Oh my god, I just can't handle the suspense! Or will he go with raspberry cheesecake!? Or maybe key lime pie!? Or maybe ISIS will drop in and blow the whole freaking town up!? Oh, and we wonder why countries with crippled economies and starving children hate our culture. Why does it seem like I'm the only one who sees this and suddenly it makes a little more sense?

He decides on chocolate so the goodie-two-shoes can bring it home and share with his "bear-loved" family. Lordy, I hated having to constantly put up with the bear puns in this thing. I'd rather broil a turd in the microwave.

"But oh, I don't know if I can handle that contest!" Lily tells Peppy, looking a little anxious. "I like the idea of free cakes for a year, but I just don't have the stomach for it!"

"It takes guts, I can imagine that, Lily!" Peppy proudly states, putting his hands on his hips. "But I'm gonna try my best! Not to worry, I'll definitely share with the rest of the Ready Teddies when I win!"

Poof. Cue the theme song. I swore, it made me just want to curl up into a sad little skunk ball and weep. Oh, it was always the same thing, too. We filmed it once and they just reused it again and again without ever changing it from Season 1. So many people deemed it was "classic" and felt changing it would be a high-level war crime. It was the sappiest, silliest, dinkiest happy-go-lucky gibberish that made you feel like watching on HBO that had actual violence to it.

Getting out there, feeling so alive
Why settle for one when you've got five!?
This is our moment, so fast and true
Oh so now what are you gonna doooooo?

Of course, the opening theme showed way more of those five annoying bears than it showed of anyone else. It started with them coming out from behind the trees and suddenly busting out into play and musical dancing and singing! Oh, what glee!

Oh are you ready?
Ready Teddies!
Protectors of Dreamworld and keeping it steady!
We are the Ready Teddies!

Now before you can start
You just have to have heart
If you only stop when the answer is no
You'll never know how far you can goooooo...!

Yada, yada, "feel good" fluff and more jumping around and flashing off special powers with special effects and happy-go-lucky musical tunes. I get like a three second cameo before I'm booted off screen by Peppy and it's back to the darn bears again. Unless you had masochistic experiences on your resume and already knew all about this show, you wouldn't even know who the heck I am in this mess!

We've got the skills and we've got the touch
Bet you never thought you could do this much!
Now go out and believe in a whole new way
The sun is out so come on and let's save the daaayyyyy...!

Oh are you ready?
Ready Teddies!
Protectors of Dreamworld and keeping it steady!
We are the Ready Teddies!
Oh we are the Ready Teddies!

Cheerful playful bears, blasting fireworks, and the Sugar Kingdom and all its happy-happy citizens in the background. Yippie-yippie-yay. And then poof, the end. The mental root canal was over. Never before did those few critical seconds of black screen intermission feel so good. If you had been amputating your own leg as an alternative source of entertainment, it was okay to stop now. Unless, of course, this show had driven you to intentions of taking a different life path and decided being a mermaid instead might be a better way to go, which at this point was totally understandable. You weren't going to see any trout or cod into this garbage, that was for sure.

And once the show started back up because nothing in this world stays good for long, it was my turn up at bat. For this drivel, I was joined by Wesley and Wilbur, two weasels that just wanted to complete their internship for college credit. Not to worry, toons aren't safe from college debt either, so if you're feeling broke and lonely, not to worry, we're there with you. Unpaid internships and volunteer work for all!

Both of them were dressed in the typical rough biker-gang henchmen garb that was common for the "bad guys." I had the same kind of attire anyway, so it made it easy to tell who the local "bad guys" were. I sure wasn't going to try dressing up as one of those stupid bears. That horrendous storyline happened back in Season 3 and I was glad they didn't try to revisit the whole idea of using disguises.

The scene opened back up with the three of us hiding behind a pink, rather well-to-do house that I honestly wanted to slather graffiti all over even though that was so not me in real life. I don't even know why they had daisies growing when they're never out in the spring, but silly me for thinking anything in Dreamworld made sense!

"So what's the plan, boss?" Wesley asks me in a sneaky voice as I use a pair of binoculars to spy in on these idiots. "All they seem to care about is cakes today."

"That is the plan," I reply with a sneaky smile. "You see, my weasel friend, they have no idea I put sleeping powder in their flour stock. And to think they're actually challenging themselves to eat as much of that as possible! Of course, once they're all snoozing, I think we should reward ourselves for giving them a peaceful nap and a nice day off. I think everything in the castle treasury seems enough, what do you think?"

As on cue, the two of them snicker while I just go back to bear-watching. And of course, the show decides they had enough of us for the past twenty seconds and goes right back to the bears again. Apparently, whatever sedative I used sure works slow, because there's at least another ten minutes of happy fun cake time and everyone is stuffing themselves with dessert that seriously makes me feel like eating a salad while I watch everything they eat go straight to their rump. See, if I really wanted to conquer the Sugar Kingdom in an evil and maniacal way, I'd take advantage of the privatized healthcare and sell the insulin pens this place would need at $400 a pop.

Fast forward ten minutes of all five Ready Teddies trying out cakes, meet and greet, saying how do you do to all the locals, and of course, taking part in King Cannnoli's diabetic decathlon. The whole episode seems to be more focused on that whole stupid thing than what I'm up to. Halfway through that junk food jamboree, everyone starts to feel a little sleepy, thinking it's just the afternoon food coma that coffee was invented for, but no one suspects drugs are involved. Peppy, as one of the last nutcases to go down, is too focused on winning, thinking he's blowing away the competition that has all given up and gone to sleep, but eventually he's also out like a light. It's a crime against humanity that he doesn't snooze off and have his face go right down on the half-finished cake he started, but you'd see a whole different story if I was doing the writing. I might have done a sedative and laxative combo so they'd just keep crapping themselves to sleep all day.

"I think that's all of 'em, boss!" Wilbur tells me with an eager, sneaky smile.

"Absolutely," I reply with a smile. "Well, then, gentlemen, it's time to collect our reward!"

And at that lovely moment, Wesley comes along with the giant, comically-oversized dump truck to haul all of King Cannoli's treasure away. I hop right into the driver's seat, laugh as I drive right through the castle walls and through each room of the castle while Wilbur and Wesley are in the back just having a grand old time watching me crush expensive furniture into splinters and smash through walls like a tag team of the Hulk and the Kool-Aid man. And of course, once we get to the vault and blow up the door using explosives, we pile in everything that annoying whack-job owns. Piles of gold coins, gems, jewels, golden "stuff" and loads of other things that I honestly wished weren't just props, because otherwise I really would have driven off the set and never would have looked back.

"Hehehehe, we're rich!" Wesley jumps up in excitement.

"Alright, boys, let's blow this joint!" I call out as I get back in the truck and prepare to speed out of the castle.

Of course, we don't politely drive through the same holes we created to get here in the first place. We'd rather just drive through the rest of the castle and make a new tunnel of holes though the castle living room, dining hall, winery, and many other useless rooms that Cannoli probably hasn't used in years. Seriously, why does he need a walk-in closet when he wears the same stupid attire every episode?

As soon as we blast our way out the back, of course, there they are just waiting for us. All five of those deplorable Ready Teddies. Somehow, they woke up at exactly the right time, waited exactly where we were coming out, and were all prepared to intercept the dump truck before we got home.

"Hold it right there!" Peppy calls out with his hands on his hips.

And he quickly paints a picture of sticky glue and then uses his magical bear power to lay it out before the rampaging truck. Somehow it stops the truck even though I swore I was going 80mph. But then again, I stopped asking questions long ago...

"Not you stupid bears again!" I shout out, as according to the script.

"Thought you could get away with it, didn't you, Stinky?" Lily smirks with that punchable, cheeky face of hers. "But we'll prove to you that bad guys never win!"

Don't worry, you'd already been making that point every darn episode since five seasons ago...

I sighed.

Actually, I wasn't even supposed to do that according to the script, but I couldn't help it. And yet, it fit. They kept the camera rolling. I hadn't broken character doing that, but it made me wonder just how far I could take it. And then all of a sudden, I kind of said screw it. Why wait until Season 6: Episode 3? I wanted this done here and now.

"You think you can stop me!?" I laughed. "Just try it!"

"Let's get him!" they all cry out at once. "Go, go Ready Teddies!"

Of course, this is where things get exceptionally dumb. They start playing the theme song while these blasted bears start using their powers. And it seems like for this particularly stupid episode, I don't have my machines or killer robots of mass destruction. Obviously these cake-eating junkies have more than the upper-hand, making this a no-brainer.

Picky starts playing a song on his magical guitar, which, to add insult to injury, starts giving me and the two weasels a headache. And now all five of these bumbling bears get super-charged into being even more powerful. I call it cheesy, but all the fans of this mess call it "more awesome." Oh lordy. That's like deciding that instead of smashing a defenseless slug with a sledgehammer, you decide it's "more awesome" to run it over with your car. Or "more awesome" to launch a scud missile at it and then incinerate the blasted remains.

So I'm down on the ground with my paws on my ears to try and fight off the headache and that's when Prancy and Candy team up together and begin the infernal process that mortal eyes weren't meant to see.

"Team up!" Candy calls out to Prancy.

The two intern weasels try to get back up again and resist the annoying song that Picky is playing, but of course, the writers decide fate is never on the side of these poor creatures and they become the victims of their next attacks.

"Goooo, combo attack!" Candy chimes out with glee.

"Here weee gooooo!" Prancy replies with a big smile on her face. "Turbo Teddy Ultimate Power!"

Wesley and Wilbur never get a chance to even lay a scratch on them. Candy conjures up two of her banana cream pies, instantly, mind you, and slams both of them in the face, blinding and stunning them once again. And then Prancy jumps in, starts dancing all about, and then kicks both of them in the butt with a double pirouette, sending both of my poor henchmen comically sailing into the stratosphere.

"Ooh, awesome!" Peppy remarks admirably. "That was super cool, you two!"

"Thanks, Peppy!" Candy and Prancy reply in unison.

I try to make a break for the truck, but Lily is all over that response and conjures up thorny vines that rip right out of the ground like some freakish Lovecraft nonsense and they wrap around the dump truck, making it even impossible to get inside it. I mean seriously, I don't know why the writers had me even going for it considering it's supposed to still be stuck in the magical glue that Peppy made earlier.

"You're not going anywhere, Stinky!" Lily taunts me.

The entire battle ends up being so cheesy and one-sided in favor of the stupid bears. The vines rip the truck away from my grasp and I'm left out in the open with nothing to attack with.

"Your plan failed, Singe!" Peppy calls out, all proud and snooty. "How dare you try to spoil Cake Day!?"

At this point, I'm still following the script. This stupid, uncreative script.

"Oh yeah?" I ask the five of them. "What are you going to do about it!?"

Well, duh, what do you think they're going to do about it? That's the problem with my character. He starts the episode with semi-decent plans but when they go foul, he just can't improvise for the life of him and says stupid things when the outcome is obvious to anyone with half a brain still rotting in their skulls. I swore, even zombies would roll their eyes at this show for the little it actually accomplishes. As soon as the bears show up, I swear, his IQ gets square-rooted.

"We're going to show you the power of dreams and creativity, Singe!" Peppy cheers.

"YEAAAHHH!!" The others chime in.

It's so hard not to just curl up into a little ball and cry at how stupid this show gets sometimes. Of course, Candy conjures up yet another pie and hurls it into my face so I can't see and I look like a doofus. Well, I take it and I know it's going to mean minutes in the bathroom to wash off. Oh, it's so comical and I can hear Lily already laughing. It's "so cute and cool and everyone loves it." And that's when, according to the script, they're all going to follow Prancy's lead and kick me out of the Sugar Kingdom and all the way back to the sky just like they did with those two interns. Oh, big surprise. Oh, you already predicted the ending? See, even gracefully intelligent people who have never watched this knows how it usually ends.

I crouch down. Technically, not part of the script, but no where does it specify what position I'm supposed to be in when this all actually goes down.

"Super-charged Teddy Power, awaaayyyy!" Peppy calls out to the rest of the crew.

And here they come, charging in like defensive linemen actually trying to kill the quarterback. I decided enough was enough and I threw the pie off my face. It didn't even taste good.

Little do the bears know, I had been saving this for a rainy day. It does take a while to build up, but geez. To tell the truth, maybe I had been saving it too long because it was even starting to hurt and ache. I turn around with my back facing them and they all come charging at me while the stupid theme song jingle is playing at max for that "epic climax."

They almost made it.

I totally break the script into a million pieces and boom, I skunk-blast all five of them at stink-zone ground zero with probably what had to be one of my most heinous blasts of skunk spray and stink ever. It certainly didn't help I had doubled up my breakfast burrito order that morning, also. Well, their interrupted attack goes dead in the mud and they never get in that "heroic kick" that was in the script.

And then I turn around to see the results. The beautiful, amazing, incredible results of seeing all five of them, horrified and dripping wet. Ooh, usually it doesn't come out that bad, but wow. And the whole studio is ripe with stink. The only way you could do worse was microwaving spicy curry that had gone back since 2008.

The music had even still been playing for a while, but boom, that moment was so beautifully spoiled. Their arrogant smiles were so painfully wiped off. It was dreadful, unethical, and dishonorable, but my goodness, it was beautiful and it felt so good. I broke the script, but where Peppy really messes up is he breaks character. See, what I did was something Singe totally could have done. Heck, why didn't he plan it in the first place? But what Peppy does is totally in the red zone.

"You... weren't supposed to do that!" Peppy shouts out.

Oh, bad move using words like "supposed to" right when they're filming. Now they were going to have to edit that out!

"Singe...!" Lily shouts in anger, barely able to contain herself with how bad she smells now, "no where does it say you spray-blast the Ready Teddies like that! Look at what you did!"

And they have to cut filming. The music stops, the whole thing ends. Hope is restored in the lands. Suddenly, it's frustrating for them. The win wasn't served on a silver platter like it always is. I mean, it smells bad even for my standards, but it just had to be done. And I could easily see they didn't exactly have a whole lot of hydrogen peroxide and baking soda on the set to take care of the issue.

Meanwhile, the camera guys, the ones manning the microphones and recording equipment, and everyone else on the filming staff is just laughing as Director Ducken waddles over to the set and throws his clipboard down with a distinctively satisfying slap sound. This kind of thing almost never happens and it's amusing when it does.

"What the hell did I tell you about breaking character!?" Ducken squawks and quacks at Peppy. "No matter what happens, just keep going and act natural! Act like it was supposed to happen!"

"But not when he sprays us like that!" Peppy whines. "It smells so bad!"

"It smells so baaaaad!!!" Ducken cynically mocks Peppy. "He's a skunk, what do you expect him to do, give you life insurance quotes and clean your bathroom grout? You do NOT reference what's in the script right in the middle of filming!"

It was a struggle not to laugh. Suddenly it was coming out. While my character blundered with staying smart in the face of the Ready Teddies, I personally could at least improvise on the fly. But on the other hand, Peppy and the Ready Teddies were the ones that couldn't improvise in real life and needed directions all the way through. Instead of adapting, they just figured the script and everything would play out for them like it was being easily spoon fed to them. And the millisecond things didn't go completely according to what they expected, they fumbled like a drunken turkey trying to roll a greasy bowling ball in a bowling alley that was on a sinking ship.

"But what about him?" Lily whined, pointing at me. "He should have been following the script!"

"The script is not law!" Ducken scolded her. "It's a guide! Tell me, don't you think that Singe as the villain would have done something like that!?"

"Well..." Lily hesitated. "I... uh... maybe?"

"Improvise!" Ducken scolded her. "Personally, I liked it. The element of surprise was genuine. I think the audience would even prefer if things weren't so deplorably predictable and artificial in this."

It was magic. And they couldn't even work with it.

"So... so what are we supposed to do after getting sprayed!?" Picky asks, looking fidgety and disgusted. "It's... awful! I can't work like this!"

"You're the Ready Teddies!" Ducken shouts back at them. "Uh, hello!? What do you mean 'what are we supposed to do?' Are you actually getting into character or are you just mindlessly following the script!?"

And there it was. The one million dollar question. The Achilles Heel of these five bears. Oh sure, if they had everything spelled out for them like a bone-headed instruction manual, they could do it for the most part, but throw one darn curveball their way, and they were screwed. It was almost shocking how it took this long for the truth to come out, but eventually dark secrets are going to bust out eventually. Their acting wasn't genuine. Sure, the dumb nature of this spiteful cartoon made that very easy to mask, but there came a point when not even that was going to bail them out.

"I..." Peppy muttered, looking frustrated. "I don't wanna work like this! I don't like these surprises. Either Singe follows the script like he's supposed to or I'm just not doing it."

"Supposed to!?" Ducken exclaimed. "Did you not just hear a word I said!?"

The spat only got worse. Peppy was daft enough to call Ducken a "fat, flabby quacky dictator" and Ducken felt if he wanted mindless acting drones, he would have hired rejected zombies from a Chernobyl trailer park. Peppy told Ducken his mother should have used his egg as a golf ball in the Grand Canyon and Ducken told Peppy he should tie him up in a folding chair and kick him down the stairs of the Burj Khalifa. Peppy told Ducken he has the intelligence of a fidget spinner covered with driveway sealant and Ducken told Peppy he looked like what would happen if a paper crane got run over by a semi truck and then put into a washing machine set for bedding.

Ready Teddies Season Six was canceled. Fans were traumatized at first and some dumb chump named Jupe the Chicken tried to resurrect the show, but it was a laughable failure. Somehow he managed to make an even worse, watered-down version of the original that couldn't air even for three episodes before ratings dropped like the angel of death was earning hourly overtime on that assignment. It was hilarious for all the wrong reasons. And I never signed the contract despite Jupe's pleas. Jupe tried to incorporate new villains, the five bears got too demanding and wanted more than even the first time around, and poof. The show was gone forever.

In less than two years, some other cartoon called "Time Sliders" took its place as the popular series and it was actually pretty cool, though I never got to be a part of the cast. But it was a great show about time travelers that didn't make me want to dig out my eyes with ice cream scoops and fill the holes with tile adhesive. It got a new batch of fans, merchandise, and was the final nail in the Ready Teddies coffin. And like that, the Ready Teddies cartoon was pretty much forgotten about. All the toys were off the shelves of the retail places and everything about it went into the big graveyard were fads go to die.

Every now and then, people look back on the show and laugh about how stupid it was and how just about everyone grew out of it. It didn't age well at all and eventually even the dollar stores that had no qualms about selling knock-offs wanted nothing to do with it. For a few years just after the cancellation, I had it as a blip on my resume, but eventually, as new movies and assignments came along, I even bumped it off and it simply disappeared. Now, I'm a movie actor, often playing supporting roles for the good guys. It's definitely a lot more fun. I'm even thinking one of these days, I could even direct my own movie.

True, sometimes you die as the villain, but there's always that opportunity you can live long enough to become the hero.

[Morzone]

Blue Whale

Day 1

I tapped my fingers, each movement betraying the impatience I felt. This was a crucial moment, if she didn't send the evidence properly the whole game was down the drain. As such I was to be found sitting in front of my computer at Seven-Thirty Monday morning, repeatedly refreshing my inbox. My annoyance and impatience grew with every click, expecting to see a message each time and getting nothing, though of course I was hardly leaving a fair period of time between each refresh so my lack of findings wasn't overly surprising.

Then all of sudden a message and a link appeared in my inbox. A smile spread across my face as I recognized the sender's name. Jane Smith. Wasting no time I opened the message, which was short and to the point:

J: I watched them. Here's a picture. Have to go to school now.

Nodding to myself I moved on to the picture, something that turned out to be a much more satisfying piece. It portrayed a girl in her late teens with short, reddish-brown hair and a freckled face, in a small, dark room. She appeared to be locked in a closet, sitting cross legged with a laptop showing the title screens of two movies: Descent and Them. What was more, the girl's face, lit from the solitary glow of the laptop screen, was crying. Screwed up with emotion, fear, stress, and sadness seemed to be forcing their way out. As if o add to this spectacle the picture was ever so slightly blurred, as though the hand holding the camera had been shaking.

Closing my eyes I leaned back in my chair, the smile still playing across my face as I pictured the girl as she had been watching the movies. Locked in a small, dark room at 4:20 AM torturing herself with two specific horror movies. The anguish my mind's eye placed into her expression was energizing and I felt wonderfully refreshed. The girl would be going off to school now, the endings of those particular movies tormenting her all day.

All according to my will, of course. It had been her first task I'd given her in the game: Wake up at 4:20 AM and watch the linked movies in order. Send proof to administrator. Naturally I had linked those two movies on purpose. The first one, Descent was an excellent starter telling the story of a women's descent into madness. It's ending had been so horrific it had been cut by some theaters before showing. Jane had been treated to the full version though. I wasn't about to start out half-assed. Them was more specific to her situation, specifically the fact she was now going to school right after watching it. It's psychotic murders had turned out to be children, teens just about the same age as she was, finishing off by heading to school like on any normal day as if no hideous and twisted deeds had been done the night before. It would be a very interesting school day for her.

Shutting off my computer I stood up and stretched. Jane's expression of anguish and fear stuck in the back of my head rather pleasantly. Navigating my way through the semi-cluttered room, dimly lit by sunlight slipping between the partly closed window shutters, I made my way over to a small cabinet resting by the side of my bed. From the inside of which I pulled I worn, but still in good condition, notebook labeled quite obviously as my own: Philipp Budeikin's Blue Whale Game Player Log. Flipping through it to my newest participant, which was of course Jane Smith herself, I noted down her completed first task, adding a side note that it had been exceptionally successful in starting the emotional isolation process. Done, I tossed the book onto my bed and prepared to get ready for the day. It landed messily, sitting open on a random page. Somewhat irked I reached down to flip it closed, though not before noting what page it had landed on. The last page of Player seven's, Stephanie Jones', log, every task labeled as complete right down to the last one:

'Send a goodbye message and commit Suicide.'

Day 10

The sun was bright. Annoyingly bright. I really did prefer the dim interior of my room, but at the current moment I didn't really have a choice. Across from me sat Kevin Hilden, probably the only person I could relatively call a friend. He was also the reason I was to be found sitting outside at a park table under a blazing sun.

"Look, Kevin," I started, but he cut me off.

"I'm not interested in your excuses this time Philipp," He told me sternly, "I'm not obtuse enough to think you actually have money to pay rent with."

"Well what do you want then?"

"Just to talk, and hopefully it'll remind me why I bother to support you."

To this I just responded with an exasperated look. It was true Kevin had been providing me with food, electricity and the likes as I was currently living in a spare room in the apartment he ran. Supposedly I had to pay rent every month, but it'd been over a year now with no money passing between us.

"Hmmph. I'm sorry my job is nonprofit."

Kevin rolled his heavy set eyes at me. "Yeah, you 'job,' which is what, an internet game? You still doing that Blue Whale thing?"

"Of course I am, it's my life's work." I said, a note of pride in my voice. It had taken me quite a while to build up the internet community to make Blue whale possible.

"Don't you just kill people who are gullible enough to let you play mind games with them?" Kevin asked, as if trying to reason with a kid playing pretend.

"No!" I exclaimed, somewhat offended. At Kevin's continued skeptical look I hurried to explain, "Look, it's a long process. It starts before the game actually starts, but the whole purpose is to clean society of those with no value. Sort of like how you don't let certain people stay in your apartment complex because their just the trash of society. There's a whole community based around suicide I've gathered together on the internet. I get to know them, I choose a target and find out everything about them before convincing them to play. I only choose those who I deem worthless and push Suicide on them. What I'm doing is helping society in the long run."

Kevin considered this and shrugged. "Why a game anyway? If you wanted to clean society by killing people just go to their homes and kill them yourself."

This question just pulled a sigh from my lips. "Do you know how Blue whale works?"

"Of course, you give some kid a bunch of tasks then make them commit suicide."

"It's more complicated than that. The whole thing is a process, something I had to use every skill and technique I learned when studying to be a psychologist to make. I have to make them realize who they are, realize they aren't worthy to live in this world and that it would be better for them to die. No man can decide that for someone else. I may be able to see the truth of their worthlessness, but only they themselves have the right to sacrifice themselves for a better world. So I send them on a journey of self-realization, 50 days to bring out that noble desire to kill yourself and stop causing harm to the rest of society."

Kevin just shrugged again. It occurred to me how odd this might be too an onlooker. Two people sitting, relaxing at a park table talking nonchalantly about killing people. Ever since I'd started Blue Whale I'd known it would never be accepted by the public at large. But Kevin thankfully understood me, he knew I never did things without thinking it through first, even if he did make me explain why over and over again.

I yawned deeply, and Kevin chuckled. "Another long night starring at your computer playing mind games?"

"Shut up, I just got a bad night sleep"

"What, did the air conditioning break? I've been getting complaints about that old system from some of the other tenants."

"Well, it is a piece of junk but no, just a weird dream about my latest player."

"Ha, looks like she'd playing mind games on you. Careful don't go jumping off bridges now!" Kevin warned with a laugh.

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Shut up already. It's probably just my dead conscience trying to make one last bid. I'm not about to stop anything though."

Kevin waved his had as if shooing away my determination. "Yeah yeah, tell me about this newest player anyway. You were all excited over her."

My face lit up and I pulled out my phone. 'Oh yeah, Jane's great! I haven't had someone get this into the game in a while. Check this out, it's from today's task. I had her do something to secretly tell the world she was a blue whale." I showed him my phone, now portraying a picture of a blue abstract painting with lines swirling in a peculiar pattern. Kevin didn't look very impressed, but before he could comment I pulled up a second picture, this one a live shot of a beached whale's carcass. "Look at the shape of its skull." I told him, gave it a moment, then swiped back to the painting. Now that the comparison was side by side, it suddenly became apparent that the odd swirls were not random abstract design, but a depiction of a dead whale's skull and bones. The empty eye sockets. once only seen as a swirled line, seemed to stare at whoever looked at the painting.

"Isn't that amazing? She painted that herself, Jane's an artist. Absolutely amazing, being able to hide the message of Blue whale so plainly in sight and keep it hidden. I think she's drawing more as well on her own time. Even with a task." I said excitedly, putting my phone away.

Even Kevin, who wasn't really one for art, seemed impressed, though somewhat confused. "If she's such a great artist why does she need to be cleaned from society? Isn't her talent reason enough to let her live?"

I shook my head, "There's a lot more to it than just whether or not a person is talented. But rest assured she deserves to die. I think she's realizing it faster than most is all."

Kevin shrugged again. Then his phone buzzed. Grabbing it he stood up saying, "Well, I have an appointment I need to get to. You can stay in the room for now." And he hurried off, talking fast into his phone. I mimicked him and stood up myself, heading off to the apartment complex. I really was tired of that stupid sun.

Day 20

I woke up in a cold sweat, the sheet tangled around my body, my hands clasping the blankets so tightly it actually hurt slightly. For a split second I didn't move, only stared at the nothingness that I could see with my face pressed into my pillow. Then twisted and turned, looking around the dusk-filled room wildly. She had been so near, her voice so real it couldn't have just been a dream. But as always my room was empty apart from myself.

Forcing my sheets off me I scrambled to my computer, hurriedly turning it on and going to my special message server. I needed proof Jane was where she was supposed to be, that she had done the task to herself properly. I'd fallen asleep after sending her the 20th day's task, only to be exposed to an extremely troubling dream. Somewhere inside of me I knew it was only a dream, that what I had seen couldn't have been real, but all the same my nerves refused to calm down until I'd seen the proof of today's task.

I found what I was looking for immediately, a response to my message containing the day's task. As always it contained a picture, this time of Jane's own hand and arm. At first glance both seemed to be covered in body paint, exquisite patterns and shapes, all working to emphasis the beautifully drawn whale along the length of her fore-arm. But I knew better, after all I was the one who'd told her to do this, and the truth was visible on her hands. Jane's finger nails had been clipped, clipped so far back that her fingers had bleed profusely. And each drop of crimson, sanguine liquid was used to draw that art along her arm.

Apart from successfully calming me down I found the bloody drawing rather impressive. she'd even shaded the whale slightly by thinning the blood in certain areas. Smiling at the knowledge that Jane had been able to mutilate herself so beautifully without complaint, I moved to shut the monitor off again. Only a second message from Jane caught my eye. Confused I opened and read.

J: Admin, I don't want to do this anymore. I am scared of this game. I want to Stop.

Anger flared up inside of me at the sight of the words. Nearly three weeks into the game and she thought she could just stop? Perhaps I had misjudged her. Her exquisite art had made me assume she'd been dedicated to the game but it seemed she was just a weak little girl after all. I definitely hadn't made a wrong choice in pushing the game on her.

A: You know you can't back out now. You have to finish the Game.Angered I typed my response back quickly, and to my surprise Jane's response came back almost immediately.
J:Please, I don't want to play anymore!

A: No, it's too late. You have to play. There will be consequences if you don't

J: Shut up What can you do? I don't want to play!

A: I know everything about you, Jane Smith. Don't make me do anything we might regret.

J: Why do you know my last name? Go away, you monster!

A: I told you I know everything. But you have to Play Jane. I wouldn't want to get your family involved in this.

J: Leave my family out of this! They don't have anything to do with you. and I'm not playing anymore!

A: You WILL play, or your family might start having little 'accidents.' I'm not afraid of doing it Jane, but you and your family will be punished if you try to run away from this.

J:No! Please! I just don't want to play, don't hurt anyone else!

A: If you don't want anyone else hurt you have to play Jane. It's that simple.

J: Why are you doing this? Why are you making me play such a horrible game?

A: You already know the answer to that Jane.

J: Please. Please I don't want to anymore. I know I'm not perfect but I can't take it anymore!

A: That's too bad Jane.

J: I'll fix myself! I'll do anything! Just let me stop playing!

A: I'm sorry to hear you feel like that Jane. I hope your family will still know how to smile afterward I'm done.

J: Don't do anything to my family!
J: hey come on, they don't have anything to do with this!
J: please, I don't want them hurt because of me!
J: Say something! You won't them will you?
J: Don't hurt them! Please... I'll do anything.
J: alright I'll play! I'll play the Blue Whale game just please don't hurt my family!

A: Alright. I won't hurt them, but don't try to get out of playing again, or I won't be so lenient. Goodnight.

Smiling, I exited the chat and shut off my monitor. I thought back to my dream and decided I'd been ridiculous for being scared over it. Jane couldn't harm me, I had her under my thumb afraid of me. It was true I knew quite a lot about her, I always did some extensive study into my players, so I definitely had enough information to hurt her or her family directly. Whether or not I'd actually do it, well, luckily no one had pushed me that far yet. I really did prefer to push them to do the killing themselves and keep my hands clean. It was much easier to avoid being tracked by the cops that way.

Still, as I flopped back down onto my bed I wondered what I'd do if I really had been pushed to having to do something to her family. Would I be able to do it? Going and personally hurting and killing people was a lot different than making them hurt themselves. It made me somewhat curious what killing manually would feel like. Would I feel dirty? contaminated by the blood on my hands? Or maybe it was actually more fulfilling to do it myself. Maybe it would be more like sport, where it was a test of my skills and the harder I worked to kill the more satisfaction I'd get.

Maybe I would try it sometime. Sounded fun.

Day 30

Stick 13 needles into your skin over your heart send proof to Admin
Send task.
Wait, do your daily research, planning, and general daily activities.
Get a response of proof.

This had been my cycle of life for a while now. To outsiders it would seem as though I was in a rut, simply repeating the same thing day after day. To me though the endless cycle of sending tasks and receiving proof, interrupted only by research into possible future players, was not tiring. Not by any means. It was hard work, looking into future players, and the surge of pleasure I had each time I saw a player carrying out my orders was ever present. Whether it was self mutilation, climbing to dangerously high places and listening to specific music, waking up at 4:20 AM to do deeds in the dark, or whatever task I had set that day, I always found their completion extremely fulfilling.

Today was no different. As I received and opened today's proof I was pleasantly surprised to find Jane had again added her own twist to the task. The picture, a shot of the area between the top of her breasts, featured my 13 needles stuck into her skin in the shape of a heart, presiding over the space where her actually heart was beating. A single Crimson drop, created from the combined needle pricks, fell down the interior curvature of Jane's breasts as though the heart could do no more but cry a single tear. It struck me as quite symbolic, the was the heart of pins seemed to be crying, though I expected my adolescent self would have looked past that and simply gotten excited over the skin exposure.

Shaking my head at the mental image of myself doing this as a teenager, I stripped down and got ready for the night's sleep. It really was a wonderful feeling, being able to rest for the night with such a pleasant picture in my mind's eye. The heart shedding a single tear. What a great picture! Maybe I would frame it and hang it on the wall. And with such thoughts I drifted into the oblivion of sleep.

I found myself standing in the darkness. There was nothing around me, I could not see what I was standing on, there was merely an endless, oppressive darkness. Then from behind me came the sound of heavy breathing. I whirled around and discovered none other than Jane standing there. Her redish hair falling all the way to her ankles, her head bowed to the invisible ground. She was naked, standing there in the darkness covered not in clothes but a red shining liquid, something I couldn't mistake as anything other than blood. It flowed over every part of her body from her armpits down. It dripped from her finger tips, swirled on her arms and legs in mysterious patterns, but what really drew my attention was that all seemed to come from one spot: 13 needles stabbed into her chest in the shape of a heart.

I couldn't speak, my voice wouldn't work. The blood flowing across her body cast a maleficent aura as Jane slowly raised her head, staring accusingly at me. She opened her mouth, but uttered no words. A scream, a blood curdling scream layered in the worst madness and depravity the mind can fall into emanated from her mouth. I clasped my hands to my ears but with no avail, the sound was causing me physical pain, every inch of my skin burned and screamed their own torture in response to the call of insanity.

And suddenly Jane was moving. Her mouth had closed but the scream went on and on burrowing its way into my very soul. She stepped toward me, raising her blood clad hand to her chest where the needles lay embedded in her heart and with a force and expression of horrific disgust she wrenched the pins from her skin.

Immediately the blood covering her body solidified into what appeared to be a fishtail, so that Jane appeared a crimson, blood red mermaid. She raised the needles high, and despite the darkness the blood on their sharp points seemed to shine with that terrible aura. And then I felt their sharp, cursed points pierce me as Jane thrust them down over my own heart. Blood Flowed like water from their points, faster and faster it flowed until I was suddenly found standing in a puddle of my own blood. No, not standing, sinking. Slowly I felt myself sink into the crimson liquid as Jane, waving her fishtail, which looked rather like a whale's tail. Her eyes watched me sink under my own blood with, cold, unforgiving eyes. They were the last things I saw when me head fell beneath the murderous pull of my blood.

Day 40

It was searching day. My second favorite day of the entire day. Yes today would be the day Jane went out and scouted a place to die.

The process was pretty simple. Jane had already found several sites where she could kill herself, today she'd visit each one of them and I'd choose one for her. Normally I'd choose based off of the player's history and personality. One player I'd had hang themselves off a school roof. The girl had given up everything for the school and I had felt it appropriate that the school should get her soul as well.

Jane however was going to be a special case. Originally I had planned to give her a glorious, symbolic death site, one that would fit her artistic style. But over the last few weeks I had grown to hate the girl. Nearly every night I had been tormented by nightmares of her. Often it involved retribution for a task I had given her, but occasionally they'd become wild and confusing with unrelated scenes, sometimes of police, hanged girls, tall office buildings, or many, many people staring at me.

But if there was one thing in common each dream had they all seemed to end with me dying. Whether I was drowning, decapitated, hanged, shot, or some other method each dream I watched myself die at the hands the Blue Whale Game's current player. And I was sick of it. I wanted nothing more at this point but to be rid of her and the mysterious torturing dreams that seemed to come with her. If I hadn't been so dedicated to completing the game properly I'd have killed her off early, but that would wreck the Game's system. If it got out that one of the players had been allowed to die early I'd lose control of the community and the game itself.

As such I still had 10 more days to bear her presence in my dreams. But I was going to get a small amount of revenge today. For I wasn't going to let her have just any suicide spot. It was going to be the most painful, the most humiliating spot I could find for her death. Visions of her being mauled ran through my mind, pictures of her being suffocated danced in my head, I even fancied having her carve her own heart out.

First thing was first though, I needed to go through the spots she'd already scouted out. The first few were simple enough. The railroad tracks. A back alley with an old tree she could hang herself on. A nearby pond large enough for her to drown in. In most cases these would have been excellent choices. The idea of having her hang undiscovered for days in a back alley would have been quite appealing if I was sticking to my usual picking methods. But as it were my feelings kept me from being satisfied with any of the locations.

The next one however, was perfect. At first it seemed pretty plain, simply jumping off a tall building to her death. But Jane had claimed it a was a special location so I gave her the chance to explain. Taking her phone -which was live streaming for me to see the suicide spots- Jane tilted so I could see what was below. It appeared to be a popular street square. Bands were playing, people were doing acts for money. Restaurants lined the road. It was your typical hang out point. But below the edge of the building were two very important factors: First, she wouldn't be jumping off to her death, but instead hanging herself from one of the many flagpoles jutting out of the side of the building. Second, was that she'd be hanging right in front of a large Television screen, known locally as "the big Screen" it was famous for showing live concerts in the evening and the news during the day for anyone in the square to see.

Slowly the scene dawned on me and I saw myself standing in that square, watching the big screen like many of the other night goers. When suddenly a shadow crossed its view. A young girl with Redish hair, hanging lifeless from a flagpole. Her dead body on display for the whole square to see. I could already feel a shiver running down my spine. Quickly I messaged her:

A: This is perfect. Hang yourself from those flagpoles.

J: But I was going to just jump off.

A: No, hang yourself. It will be better.

J: Alright then.

A: 10 days. It's a date.

Day 50

I was standing on the roof of a tall building. Below me I could see a plaza square full of people. They all seemed frozen, staring and pointing at something below me on the wall of the building. Why weren't they moving? Whatever they were gawking at must be something quite astonishing to have drawn so much attention.

Beside me a voice spoke. "This is your last chance, Philipp."

Turning I was surprised to see Jane, standing there bundled in a coat and scarf, also staring down at the frozen crowd. "What are you doing here?" I demanded of her. I didn't know why the sight of her made me angry, but something told me she shouldn't be here on the roof like this.

"This is where we agreed upon remember?" Jane pointed over the side of the building. Leaning over I saw a dark shape silhouetted against a large News screen. Whatever it was appeared to be hanging from a rope.

"What is that?" I asked in an astonishment mirroring those frozen down in the square.

"That's our fate, Philipp. Both of us are doomed." She responded in a straight voice, staring at me as if she could see right through my eyes into my very soul.

"But, that's impossible! You should be dead! Not me!" I argued. It simply didn't make sense. That shadowy shape could only have been Jane, suspended like a dead show animal for all to see. How could that be my fate as well?

"This is your last chance Philipp. Spare my life, allow me to live. Or this fate will be shared by both of us."

"Shut up! I am not going to be killed by some trash like yourself!"

"It's the only way Philipp." Jane kept talking in that simple, direct and honest voice. Her eyes told shimmered with a knowledge that was hidden from my own and it filled me with a deep anger that came out boiling.

"Do not mock me. you trash of this society! I am a chosen man, fulfilling a duty to the greater good, ridding the world of filth like yourself! You will be purged from this world, and I will be free from your evil clutches! Free I tell you!" And shouted at her advancing menacingly.

Jane did not flinch or back away, only looked at me with a tinge of sadness. "I'm sorry you feel that way Philipp. This was your last chance." And she turned away, walking to edge of the building in a calm, composed manner. A rope materialized around her neck as, without even a hint of hesitation, she walked off the edge and plunged to her death.

With a savage excitement I ran to the building's edge and looked over it, expecting to see the limp body of my accursed enemy hanging there. But to my surprise there was no body, no hanging girl. No suicide.

Without warning I felt a strong push on my back. My body leaned far over the edge of the building. Too far. I couldn't catch myself. And suddenly there was a rope fastened tightly around my own neck. Below me I could see every person in the square, no longer frozen, but moving, making a commotion, all pointing up at my plummeting body. I seemed to fall in slow motion, turning in midair to look up at the person who'd thrown me to my death. And there was Jane, not with the burning hatred she'd had in all the other dreams but with that same sad, pitying expression she'd worn before jumping off herself.

And then I woke, lying face down on the floor of my room.

I brought myself to sit up, my body shaking. To my surprise I found my face wet with tears. I wiped them off, glad I was alone in my room. What
had that dream been? None of the other nightmares had been like it. There had been no screaming, no torturing, no revenge, no confusion, the only similarity came in that he had, once again, died at the hands of the person who he was supposed to be killing.

Standing up I held to my computer chair to steady myself. I had decided weeks ago that I would not be scared off by mere nightmares and this one was going to be no different. sitting down I slowly logged onto my computer, and then to my message server. I needed to give Jane her final task, the one this entire 50 day long game had been leading up to: Send a goodbye message and commit suicide.

Even in my tired and shaken up state I couldn't help feel a little excited as I pulled up Jane in my messages to send her the final task. But to my surprise Jane had sent me a message already. It was labeled: Goodbye. Curious, I opened it to find nothing but a link to her facebook page. I'd seen her facebook countless times, why was she sending it to me now? I clicked the link anyway, my curiosity too powerful.

The page loaded and my mouth fell open. There was a single new post, a picture with a caption. The picture itself was a view from the top of the building she was going to suicide off of, the noose sitting obviously on the edge of the roof. The caption was only one word: Goodbye. She'd completed her 50th task. She'd finished it exactly how I had every player finish it. She'd finished it without ever being told what to do.

I felt something change in the back of my mind and I began to laugh. A wild, maniacal laugh that didn't have any sense to it. She was dead. She was dead and I was free. Jumping up from my chair I through my arms up, cheering and laughing hysterically. It was all over. Her curse would be broken now, her dead limp body hanging in the view of the whole public. And I was free.

Turning I threw myself back onto my bed. Later I would always wonder how I was able to fall asleep while my emotions were running so high, but sleep I did. I slept not knowing her death would lead to a manhunt, nor that it would lead to my capture and arrest. I didn't know it was going to lead to a life in prison until I myself committed suicide in my cell. All I knew was that that night I slept Nightmare free for the first time in fifty days.

[LKWayvern]

Wow, these four weeks have really flown by, huh?
Welp, it’s been fun. Still no entries from Prankster Platoon, but the entries I did get were really good. I’m not kidding, this was really close.

Predestination
By @Nobleanobii of the Gracidea Order

They don’t necessarily distract from my understanding of the story because I can tell what you mean, but I’m noticing a few confusingly worded phrases and typos…
‘Not winds’? Alright then.
Three xokhafels and three angels, him? I don’t suppose that Muzapo is among them?
Oh hey, more Hamilton references. From the same song. ’so how you gonna get your prophecy through?’
I like how Parlim and Seray speak. Apathetic almost, yet still polite and eloquent. I just really like when characters talk like that.
Interesting comments about American politics.
...I know who rainbow xokhafel is but I forget their name and I am so happy that they’re supposed to win you have no idea.
Maykrotot was originally destined to win? Interesting.
Seeing behind the scenes how the angels rig everything is interesting…
I sort of suspected Mikey had a crush on Rox but I tend to be really oblivious to romance, both fictional and real, so I wasn’t sure… Guess I was on the right track!
Two foot height difference. Is it weird that I find that adorable?
I can’t remember this xokhafel’s name either but they were a part of Haskotte, weren’t they?
So it was a tent, NOT a room!
Poor Mikey. I’ve read too many stories where trying to prevent the fulfillment of a prophecy ends up in it coming true.
Muzapo and his friend I forget the name of are going to be partners? Huh. No wait… Or is it Maykrotot’s kid? Probably the latter actually.
Interesting… I’d like to learn about these two other hybrid-seers.
A heart attack? Never heard of visions causing anything like that before.
Labor camps… The disabled not being allowed to live… Those make it kind of reminiscent of the Holocaust…
So far Mikey kind of strikes me as morally grey, and kind of a jerk, but not necessarily evil… Hm…
Aeotts? Some kind of Alsondysi deity?
I like Araxie.
Heh. Heheheheheheh. Butterfly effect.
How long has the Angel Regime been in control of the planet, and what’s the natural lifespan of a xokhafel?
Oo, spraypainting~ Is that how Mikey’s ‘artistic’? Not a medium I see mentioned very often in media…
Ack no don’t hurt the xokhafel waiter, we just met him but I already want to love and defend him--
So, are you saying that the angels consider themselves to be perfect? Some kind of race of perfect entities? A ‘master race’ as one may call it?
Ah, right. Angels don’t have a xokhafel’s talent with language, so hearing the xokhafelian language from another perspective is really interesting!
Can’t even know for certain what his last words were… That’s sad.
And they didn’t even pay. Wow. Jack***.
...Mm. That did get the point across that angels really aren’t good or nice if that’s a common occurrence. But it could also probably have been easily removed from the story. If it had been a xokhafel or angel involved in the incident that was killed or doing the killing that we had been introduced to previously, and had gotten to know, that might’ve make it feel a bit more significant, and made a major impact.
Interesting reinterpretation of the Bible…
‘I’m more of a cat person anyway’ Okay that’s funny.
Maykrotot’s capable of ‘interrupting’ Mikey’s visions? I shall eagerly await more of that.
What’s this? Zhamos and Parlim having a parley? Unexpected…
Welp. Guess they’re kind of doomed right now…
Wait a second. This actually kind of reminds me of 1984-- a dictatorship with a firm hand on all the rebellions because it’s controlling them already.
!!!!!!!!!!!! IS THIS A SJO
I REALLY FREAKING LIKE THE SJOS
OH MY GOD IT IS A SJO WONDERFUUUUUUUUUULL
Angel biology is very interesting…
So this is all occurring at the same time as Butterfly Epoch? I thought it may have been after the events of Butterfly Epoch, but before the get the kusanagi.
Interesting about the bullets, too. Foreshadowing?
Aw. That whole little paragraph, with the betsweis’ morbid humor, about visiting Alsondysi someday… And Mikey’s thoughts about them being expendables and easily replaced. I found that sad…
The queen has to die? Aw… We haven’t talked to them very often, but I thought she was nice… Certainly innocent. And she wanted to follow xokhafel tradition, so she couldn’t have been purposefully malevolent.
Damn, Zhamos. Make up your mind. Are you a double agent or a triple agent or what??
Well then. Bye bye, Zhamos. Will Mikey get away with this…?
Habiltis too? Aw…
Before I thought Mikey was just sort of morally grey and jerkish, more an anti-hero than a true villain. But yeah, he’s definitely more a villain now I think. He's crossed several lines.
Oh no, is Araxie going to die too?
Oooo… Confrontation with your boyfriend… Can’t exactly kill him, can you, Mikey?
Unless…
Unless this is the prophecy coming true, thanks to Mikey’s efforts to avoid it.
Crap. He did fulfill it…
Ooooooh no not the flashback to innocent times!
Aaaaaaaa why are we going to other innocent times!?
Okay, this doesn’t quite apply to what you did here. But I don’t usually like it when right before or after someone dies we have a monologue or flashbacks or whatever to try and make the audience care for them more. It feels too fast and rushed and forced to make me actually care for them. You’ve been building up Rox and Michelangelo’s relationship all throughout the story though, so I don’t mind the flashbacks here.
‘I strike him right between the ribs. I walk towards him but I am ushered away.’
Will the Hamilton references never end?
On a slightly more serious note, remember what I said last week about references kind of ruining a serious moment? You’ve improved. I caught the reference, and it was nice, but I think the fact that you didn’t quote it word for word kept the atmosphere you wanted to make.
And… Well then. Quite the downer ending.
I like it.
No, seriously, I love the ending. The was just an excellent cutoff point. It’s implied that Vasnika was killed, but not outright stated, and the fallout isn’t described. It leaves it all up to the imagination. It doesn’t drag out the falling action at all, which is wonderful. Dragging out the falling action or epilogue can just seriously annoy me sometimes.

Originality: 10 points. Compared to other entries, you once again went crazy with worldbuilding, expanding more on the culture of Angels this time instead of the xokhafels. Your angels are certainly far from the hot beings of pure good I most often see and I love it.

Characters: 9 points. You had the largest cast of characters by far and they were all wildly different, when comparing personality, morals, and motivations. I loved it.

Coherency: 7 points. While I loved the story and the plot, and could follow what was going on, it seemed at times like you were almost wandering. It could use some polishing up, I think.

Spelling and Grammar:[/i] 7 points. I found quite a few typos, or awkwardly worded phrases.

[b]Total: 33 points.

Making Mad
By Neo Emolga of the Steel Scavengers

Oooooo, an actor. This character has my deepest sympathy already.
And a character who’s a toon? I’m reminded of Who Framed Roger Rabbit.
...Singe has my intense pity. Then again, the villain of a kid’s tv show. I wasn’t expecting that. So kudos for that.
I’ve noticed a great deal of your protagonists tend to get very sarcastic. Singe is no exception.
I personally tend to really like ‘Dreamworld’s. Dreamworlds can be extremely fun to play with. Especially the laws of physics in them. But the Sugar Kingdom… Yeah, poor Singe. That definitely sounds like one of the more boring ways to do a Dreamworld.
Although, I have seen ‘sugar kingdom’ done once in a very good webcomic, but the comic was more parodying that sugar kingdom idea than anything else.
‘Sinister, stinky, stunk’. Well, now we all know Singe’s got a gift with alliteration. Villain parts can be really fun, I’ll admit, but being typecast really isn’t very fun.
And our ‘heroes’, the Ready Teddies. With the expected powers. Or, some of them.
What’s this, meta-humor? I love meta-humor. I never meta humor I didn’t like.
Oh, jeez. Yep. Singe gets my pity.
The theme song was a nice touch. Cheesy as hell, but a nice touch.
Many alliterative names… Singe, Roland, Punchy, Peter, Paula, Wesley, Wilbur…
How does one paint a picture of sticky glue?
Oo, we’re going with improv now?
Now that’s a waste of two perfectly good banana cream pies. Then again, this is the magical land of sweets and diabetes, so presumably they have more than enough to go around…
‘The power of dreams and creativity’. I have seen an anthropomorphic personification of dreams and nightmares. He’s the polar opposite of these guys, oddly enough.
Getting chewed out by a director is not a fun experience, and arguing with a director is extremely inadvisable. Say goodbye to your jobs, Ready Teddies.
‘Maybe’? Girl, you’ve been on this show how long!?
Glad Singe’s career turned right around. Happy ending, I suppose~ And a nice twist on that quote in the end, too.
Here’s one thing that kind of bothered me, though. I’d have liked it more if we could’ve seen a bit more of characters like Roland and Pete. You mentioned once about how they were strikingly different from the parts that they played, but I think it would’ve been more apparent if you’d used more ‘show, not tell’. You showed rather well the sickening sweetness of Ready Teddies, and the jerkishness of the Teddies’ actors, but I would’ve loved Singe interacting with people he liked, because up until the very end the story was more or less Singe ranting and being sarcastic. A little variety in emotion before the end would’ve been nice.
Also I’ve gotten curious. Has Singe had to interact with a fan? What’s that like for him?

Originality: 8 points. I have to say, I did NOT expect the parameters and theme to be used exactly like that. While I have seen those archetypes and tropes a bit too often, having the characters all be actors in a TV cartoon with those tropes was a really lovely twist.

Characters: 7 points. While I did like Singe quite a bit, he seemed to be the character to get the most focus and characterization. While others were definitely major parts of the story, being the object of Singe’s spite, I don’t think they quite measured up to other characters.

Coherency: 9 points. I could definitely follow the story extremely easily, and it flowed very well. Nothing really felt forced, based off what I knew of all the characters.

Spelling and Grammar:[/i] 9 points.

[b]Total: 33 points.

Blue Whale
By Morzone of the Steel Scavengers

‘Them’? Is that the one with the giant ants because I really liked that movie. Then again, I really like ants. So I may be in the minority, I’m not sure.
Aaaaah… I’d heard about the ‘Blue Whale’ game. I was wondering if this story would be about it or not, I was kind of hoping not…
This is the first and only entry in the entire PXFire Creative Writing competition to actually get me unsettled and kind of uncomfortable, so congratulations Morzone. I’m not saying that this is a bad thing. In horror, it’s actually kind of hard to get me freaked out. But two things likely to get me very freaked out is suicide and self-harm, especially if a person is being manipulated or mind-controlled into doing either. So this is probably going to be a rather memorable entry for me…
‘Job is nonprofit’. Yeah, it better not be giving you a profit…
Congratulations. Your villain protagonist is definitely the only one that gets no sympathy from me, and has pretty much utterly disgusted me at this point.
While I’m really not okay with self-inflicted injuries and deaths, I do have a morbid fascination with serial killers… And Phillip’s words and reminiscent of several of them.
The ending I liked. Jane getting her revenge, and Phillip getting punishment.
I had to take some breaks from reading this at points. It’s not because it wasn’t well-written or anything. I thought it was well-done, and interesting. It’s just I personally am not the most comfortable with this subject matter, and sometimes my emotions can get a little overwhelming. I’ll try my best not to let this influence or bias my judging, though.
That said, I’d like to congratulate you on the characterization of Phillip. Very few villains have ever actually made me feel legitimately disgusted by them. In addition, I’ve done quite a bit of research on serial killers, and I think you’ve gotten the personality of one down extremely well. If I were awarding points based off of how villainous the protagonists of each story actually was, as opposed to the categories I’d already picked, you’d definitely get the gold.

Originality: 7 points. I’ll admit, I was surprised by using the Blue Whale Game as the subject of your entry.

Characters: 9 points. Like you said before, I thought you did very well with Phillip’s characterization. Kevin also intrigued me-- he seems to have more morals than Phillip, and yet he doesn’t call the police or anything. It piques my curiosity about what kind of a person he is, how he’s friends with someone like Phillip…

Coherency: 9 points. It actually flowed very, very well. The characters actions all felt very natural, it was rather well paced.

Spelling and Grammar: 9 points.

Total: 34

Like I said. VERY close. Excellent jobs, everyone.

[Morzone]

I'm glad you liked it! Well, as much as you could while dealing with the suicide/self harm stuff. Sorry if it was too unsettling at points. I have a knack for describing Horror/gore in rather extreme ways without realizing it. I've always been kind of shut off to reading about pain or horror, I just can't get into it the same as if I saw it in a movie or something, so I end up describing it as hard as I can or it feels too cheesy.

I'm not entirely sure what being able to recreate a serial killer's mentality without extensive research says about my personality, but I'll take what I can get. I did do some research into the blue whale game though, mainly through some newstories and the wiki, so I tried to have it mirror the real thing as much as possible. (IE, according to the wiki Phillip Budeikin is the name of the person who claims to have created the game) I woke to a news articles on a blue whale victim the day after the 2nd prompt was released, and I sort of noticed that it fit all of the requirements if I told a story from the admin's view. (The girl in the story drew blue whale pictures like Jane did) Originally I was thinking of switching to the victim's parent's view right at end. They'd have dreamed everything about the game and woken up to check on their kid. Wasn't sure if I wanted to find out and save the kid (cause obviously their dream had reflected reality) or if they would wake up to find them missing/committed suicide due to the game. Just in case, you know, you needed an even more morbid ending.

As for "Them," unfortunately it's not the one with the ants. It's actually a horror movie (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Them_(2006_film)) that was originally french. (It had a different name in French but I went with the English version)

[LKWayvern]

I'm glad you liked it! Well, as much as you could while dealing with the suicide/self harm stuff. Sorry if it was too unsettling at points. I have a knack for describing Horror/gore in rather extreme ways without realizing it. I've always been kind of shut off to reading about pain or horror, I just can't get into it the same as if I saw it in a movie or something, so I end up describing it as hard as I can or it feels too cheesy.

I'm not entirely sure what being able to recreate a serial killer's mentality without extensive research says about my personality, but I'll take what I can get. I did do some research into the blue whale game though, mainly through some newstories and the wiki, so I tried to have it mirror the real thing as much as possible. (IE, according to the wiki Phillip Budeikin is the name of the person who claims to have created the game) I woke to a news articles on a blue whale victim the day after the 2nd prompt was released, and I sort of noticed that it fit all of the requirements if I told a story from the admin's view. (The girl in the story drew blue whale pictures like Jane did) Originally I was thinking of switching to the victim's parent's view right at end. They'd have dreamed everything about the game and woken up to check on their kid. Wasn't sure if I wanted to find out and save the kid (cause obviously their dream had reflected reality) or if they would wake up to find them missing/committed suicide due to the game. Just in case, you know, you needed an even more morbid ending.

As for "Them," unfortunately it's not the one with the ants. It's actually a horror movie (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Them_(2006_film)) that was originally french. (It had a different name in French but I went with the English version)

Usually I really enjoy psychological and cosmic horror... Especially horror podcasts. ESPECIALLY the mind-screwy ones.
Murder, gore, and body horror I'm okay with, oddly enough. I was the only person in my English class not grossed out by body horror when we watched District Nine.