A/N: thought I'd put this little thing together. This idea came to me while I was watching stand up comedy and listening to the My Chemical Romance song that this is named for. So, I hope you enjoy.

UPDATED: fixed a few things :)


Chapter 1

The shrill, metallic ringing of the analog clock echoed in the large room. The room was tinted in all shades of red and orange, made from an amalgamation of stone and metal components. The luxurious bed that sat in the room was adorned with sheets of the finest fire silk, pillows filled with some soft material that couldn't be named if anyone wanted to.

... And then, the groggy queen underneath them, trying to drown out the alarm. With a final groan, Phoebe, the Flame Princess of the Fire Kingdom, reached out and stopped the alarm. The heat of the kingdom was far too much for any digital clock's electrical components or insulators to handle. She made a mental note to get some engineers on that. Tiredly, she climbed out of the bed and made her way to the vanity mirror.

Flame Princess leaned on the table and yawned widely. Her hair was its usual bonfire style, her bangs swaying gently against the sides of her face. She set about brushing her hair out, looking into her reflection. Her odd, radioactive green eyes set her apart from the rest of the Fire Elementals, but she liked her eyes. Hair brushed, she dressed in a deep colored gown made of a surprisingly light material that flowed with her movements.

The throne room was boring.

It was a simple fact of life.

She hated sitting around all day, but enjoyed helping her people. Flame Princess disliked how stuffy her council was and how small the room seemed to get throughout the day, but it was her job. Her job as acting queen was one that she quite enjoyed, especially with Cinnamon Bun to help her out from time to time. Though, even with her knight at her side, the duties had been quickly piling up. It wasn't as simple as people lining up in front of her anymore.

There were people coming at her with suitor requests, major trade offers, pushes for her to make alliances, and now there was talk of her having no heir. She was 17, for Glob's sake! Sure, she was by no means immortal, but she was young! Her brow furrowed her brow as she sat down in the throne and crossed her legs. "Is something the matter, Highness?" Cinnamon Bun asked.

She replied coolly, "I'm just thinking over the inquiries from the people."

"The suitors?"

"Refused."

"Is it Finn?" he asked.

Flame Princess paused. For some strange reason, she could never bring herself to be with someone else. A few months of "cooling down," so to speak, she found that she may have misjudged Finn, having not listened to his explanation for deceiving her. But, on the other hand, his actions during her father's revolt were unacceptable. Until he matured, she would continue to be his friend, but she could never be anything more to him with a kingdom to be devoted to.

Finally, she replied, "I don't know, CB."

The day passed at a snail's pace. Giving someone this, accepting something from that- renew the flame shield on that person! All of it was as dull as dull can be, but if it helped her people, then it was worth it. Night fell on another day. "Goodnight, Highness," the pastry man called to her from one end of the hall.

She called back, "'Night, CB."

Slipping into a nightgown quickly, she fell into her sheets' embrace.


"Help me."

Undefined figures stood facing each other. They charged each other and clashed in a huge flash. The voice spoke again, "Hear my voice, Highness. Hear it!"

The Cosmic Owl cried out.


Phoebe sat straight up in her bed, a fraction of a second before her clock went off. There was a brief moment of fear before she decided to shake it off. Whatever that owl thing was, she wasn't entirely sure that it was good. The throne room, once again, was where her day was spent. The monotony of it, however, was soon to be broken.

A guard from the gates of the palace jogged down the isle and kneeled in front of her, "Your Highness, there is an outsider at the gates wishing for an audience. He's injured, but... He's armed."

"What?" she leaned forward anxiously, "Did he attack? Are you hurt?"

The guard paused for a good while, "No. No, he didn't. In fact, he's waiting rather cordially for a man with an injury. What is your command?"

"Let him in. I'll see what he wants."

The guard got up and went back to the gate. Cinnamon Bun seemed less enthused, though, "Are you sure we can trust him?"

Flame Princess answered, "How can we expect others to trust us if we're too cautious to give them our trust?"

"I suppose that makes sense..."

As they finished speaking, the outsider (they assumed) came it. The monarch was astounded to find that he looked human. Finn had told her that he was the only one left, which had gotten him down. But, this man, he had to be at least 20 years old. His body was well defined and muscular.

The upper body was left bare, with the exception of a strange cloth that wrapped about his shoulders, over his neck and lower face. It effectively covered part of his nose and ears, then the loose part of it came over his right arm like a miniature cape, just below his elbow. His trousers were black and looked comfortably loose with a utility belt thrown haphazardly over them. They were tucked into a pair of black leather boots that stopped short of his knees. There were two golden wrist braces on his wrists that seemed to have magical qualities, if the glow was anything to go off of.

The man's eyes, oddly enough, were a light shade of lavender and his hair, an incredibly dark purple. The hair itself was thick and stood on end on the right side. His bangs came down to hang just above his eyes in a couple of thick locks. And finally, the sword on his back rested in a black scabbard. The hilt was the classic cross guard, but the handle was in two sections, suggesting it was supposed to be two handed.

The pommel was metallic and shaped as a triangle with the base being curved. (Think Isildur's sword's handle) True to his word, there was a stream of blood running down the arm covered by the mini cape. He spoke, "Please, Highness. I'm asking for your help."

"First, tell me your name," Phoebe said.

The man swiped his good arm, "There's no time for that! I was being chased earlier. The only reason I waited was out of hospitality, but it will catch up to me soon!"

Flame Princess crossed her arms, "Your name. Total honesty and transparency. That's the law here."

His eyes widened, "Are you insane?!" he looked behind him briefly before turning back, huffing, "My name. My name doesn't matter. Please, just address me as Amun."

Just then, there were sounds coming from outside. Grunts and cries of pain echoed through the halls. "No!" Amun hissed, "It's here."

"What's here?" Flame Princess's eyes narrowed.

Before he could answer, whatever it was slammed itself against the doors once, twice, and a third bashed them open. Amun reached up with his good hand, his left, and unsheathed the sword, holding it with relative ease. The blade pinched where it met the cross guard and was about the length of his entire arm. There was also a line of thin, elegant runes etched into the blade on both sides. "Pastry," Amun commanded, "Stand guard over her Highness. If this thing takes me out, it absolutely cannot get to her!"

Cinnamon Bun brought out his lance and readied himself, "Right."

The beast was almost amorphous. It was a greyish form, muscular and tall, standing at eight feet tall. It had no face, no ears, no distinct features. Despite being completely nude, there was nothing to specify gender. The only to be said about it was that it had claws.

Its fingers were elongated and sharpened into claws, easily identified as the cause of the wound on Amun's covered arm. Phoebe herself got up and clenched her fists, effectively igniting her flames brighter. Amun charged the monster at full speed. It, in turn, let out a terrifying screech, from where, no one was certain. The human swiped the sword right to left, only for the monster to jump over it.

He lunged, making to pierce it, but it dodged just right of the blade. It made its own move, driving its head into the stomach of Amun. He retched and dry heaved, down on one knee. As it tried to slash him with its claws, he rolled away. Finally, he dashed to make a hit.

The sword came across its back, drawing a deafening squeal of pain. The beast swiftly turned and backhanded Amun away, packing enough strength to send him straight into the wall. The impact knocked the sword from his hand and caused him to yelp in pain. He hit the ground with a thud. Then, the monster turned its head to lock on the princess.

Cinnamon Bun stepped forward, "Beast. You shall not pass!"

It replied with a screech as it charged. The knight met the charge with gusto of his own. Claws dug into the lance, which suddenly came back into its face. Cinnamon Bun spun on his heels and powerfully slashed at its torso. Another cry of pain from the monster.

The small victory, however, was short-lived. It retaliated almost immediately with a connecting slash from its claws and a punch to the pastry man's face that knocked him out cold. Finally, it came to Phoebe. A series of guttural clicks that could only be described as a laugh disturbed her, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Her hands flared up into two fiery dagger-like blades.

Although she had the power, she didn't have the speed that the monster had. It was easily weaving around the series of slashes from her hands and managed to get its own small hits it. Finally, it ran at her, but dragged its claws against the flooring. It flung up a massive amount of dust and debris into her eyes. Flame Princess yelped and rubbed at them frantically.

It charged at her. No! I let my guard down!

"Y-Your Highness!" Amun cried out.

She prepared for the inevitable, but only heard the sound of tearing flesh. There was no feeling, just the sound. Her clouded vision came around the more she rubbed at them until she could see again.

The monster's claws were inches from her face. But, from its chest protruded a shorter, pure white blade. Black blood oozed over the blade, quickly ebbing life from it. The sword yanked out and with a quick swipe, its featureless head rolled off of its shoulders.

The body collapsed and revealed the victor. "Finn!" Phoebe gasped.

Amun slowly got to his knees. His chest and back throbbed from the impact of the attack and wall. He looked to see a young man, 17, with a blue aura about him. The adolescent wore cargo shorts and a t-shirt, both different shades of blue. He wore something on his head; it was furry and thick and had... bear ears?

Indeed, it was like he had taken a polar bear's skin and cut the head off, only to cut a hole where his face was. The fur was more than enough to cover most of his neck and part of his shoulders. How he wore it in this heat was beyond Amun. He spoke, "You okay, FP?"

"Yeah," she replied, "Thanks, Finn."

Finn sheathed his sword in the strap on his pack, "What was that thing?"

He crouched down and picked up its head, thoroughly intrigued. The viscous, black liquid leaked from the bottom of it as he examined it. "That's one of his 'emissaries,'" Amun said.

He approached slowly, clutching his his injured arm under the cloth. "Who are you?" Finn asked.

"Allow me to explain that."


Alright! New story! Let's get this party started! Next chapter will explain who this mysterious Amun is and what the deal with that creature was. So, until next time...!