BOOM! Another rocket burst way too close to Ryouta. The debris that gently caressed his left shoulder was evident of that. "Hey!" he shouted, "no fair, my character's missing!" His complaint existed only to mask his terror.
Behind Ryouta was what remained of a large parking garage overlooked the recent field of debris he now clamored out of.
Utop this building, was a young man, pale with rosy cheeks. He donned thick black glasses, a paper boy cap, fall apparel (though it was in the middle of June!) and a confident smirk.
This strange young man was accompanied by a large, green cyborg-looking man, who handled a large futuristic rocket launcher with precision and care.
"Hey, don't actually hit him okay?" the boy commanded of the warrior twice his size.
"I won't," he replied in a curt, grizzled tone.
Ryouta, still running from the two, felt his lungs starting to give up on him. Where was his champion? Wasn't he supposed to defend him at all times? "Edward!" he shouted, with all the breath he could muster, "Where are y-"
He was cut off by the appearance of shadow, which now flooded in around Ryouta. He looked up to see, a giant concrete statue! And riding on his shoulder was his champion, an infuriating smug look about him.
"Sorry I'm late," he shouted sarcastically, "It took me forever to find enough concrete to transmute my friend here."
Ryouta looked up at Edward and then lowered his head in a sigh of relief.
"Hmm," the strange young man breathed from the garage, "So that's the FullMetal Alchemist? I thought he'd be taller."
The young man on the roof jumped up from the heater he'd been sitting on and looked over to his champion, "Well chief, looks like it's now or never!"
The Master chief nodded in agreement, reloaded his rocket launcher, and flew off via jetpack to face his latest foe.
It was time to finish this fight!
Fan Fight Royal!
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Three weeks earlier…
"Ryouta! Hurry up! We're going to be late, man!" Ryouta awoke, startled by the voice of his best friend, and roommate Danny.
Groggily, he pushed himself from the bed, and struggled to find the right clothes and materials needed for the following day.
"Hey Danny!" Ryota started, as he noticed a strange void in his right pocket, "Do you know where my phone is?"
"How should I know, man? Just leave it, we have an exam in twenty minutes!"
Ryota searched furiously through clothes and his generic brown school bag, and had just given up, when he heard a buzzing coming from the living room of the small one bedroom apartment.
"Thank god," he breathed aloud. He turned the screen on, and felt his heart sink as he read the pixilated black text in front of him.
Hello! And Congratulations! You, Ryouta Fujimoto, have been selected to participate in the "Champion's Clash!"
A Golden Magistrate will arrive momentarily to aid you in selecting a champion, as well as enlighten you as to the rules of the clash.
The winner of this year's clash will acquire one free wish!
Good luck, Champion!
Sincerely,
-The Order of the Golden Magistrates.
"No way…" Ryouta gasped aloud.
"What is it ma-" Danny's normally cool composure was interrupted, as he read the message himself.
"Man, this has got to be a prank right?" Danny joined in Ryouta's disbelief.
"I'm afraid not, young man. I am proof of of your invitations legitimacy." The deep raspy voice came from a newcomer dressed in black robes, black shoes, and a priest collar. He seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
One might mistake the elderly, clean shaven, caucasian man as a priest; were it not for the Crux Dissimulata tattooed on his forehead, or the bodyguards accompanying him.
"A-A Golden Magistrate?!" Ryouta stammered, unsure as to whether he should lay down prostrate or run away.
Where could he run though? The guards already controlled the door, and his dorm was too high to jump from.
"Yes, " the magistrate began again, "who else would I be?" he chuckled. "Now my boy, let us get to work!"
"To work?" Ryouta echoed.
"Well, yes, we must begin searching for a suitable Champion!"
Just then, the conversation was interrupted by the sudden arrival of a powerful blue glow, emanating from Ryouta's left hand.
"What the hell?!" Ryouta cried in fear. The glow pulsed rapidly with his heart beat, growing faster and faster, as if desperately calling out for a response.
"Well my boy, it seems you're in luck, it would appear a champion has chosen you!"
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"Hello, I'm Donna with Channel 13 News! Well folks, it looks like that time again. After nearly a decade of silence, the wish granting scroll, known as 'Solomon's Scroll' has once again appeared and has chosen seven lucky participants."
"For those of you who may not remember, or did not witness the horrors of the last Champion's Clash, Solomon's Scroll is a mystical scroll, that randomly appears at seemingly irrational intervals. Reports of the Scroll's appearances go back to the 1500s, around the same time as the formation of the 'Golden Magistrates."
"Every time the scroll appears seven participants are recruited to fight, sometimes even to the death, in order to claim one wish from the Scroll."
"However, the participants do not fight themselves, usually, but rather summon champions to fight for them. Theses champions, unlike the historical figures chosen in the popular anime 'Fate/Zero,' are completely fictional. All one needs to summon a character from their favorite fictional book, or movie, or video game, is something pertaining to that character, or a copy of the fictional work itself!"
"We are all excited, to see who will win this Champion's Clash!"
"In recent ne-"
The artificial glow that once lit the office, now vanished at the click of a button. The silence that filled his office, his kingdom, comforted him; but did nothing to lessen the unease he felt.
"The Champion's Clash…" he mumbled to himself. He'd never found these "Games" so interesting himself, save for the one occurrence.
However that was years ago, he was far more naive in that time. Back then he'd never suspected he'd be selected as a participant!
He couldn't allow such an opportunity go to waste (not that the Golden Magistrates would let him). However, he had no idea what "Champion" he'd chose.
He sat, ran his fingers through his fading hair, and breathed out a short sigh…
What was that game he'd spend hours playing with his college roommates?
It had a rather peculiar name...what was it?
His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his personal intercom, "Mr. Wright, a, um… a Golden Magistrate is here to see you...sir?"
Her Concern didn't faze him, sheer joy filled his thoughts as his memories finally returned from their exile.
He knew exactly, who he'd choose as his Champion!
"Send them away Ms. Wesker…" he started, "I've already selected my Champion, and I intend to join the fray!"
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The glow emanating from Ryouta's hand now grew brighter, and brighter, nearly blinding those around him.
"Well, my boy, " the Magistrate began, "Don't keep him waiting! Simply clench your fist and you will have selected your champion!"
A fresh wave of adrenaline shot through Ryouta, he had no desire to have any part in a Champion's Clash! He just wanted to pass the exam!
Fear gripped Ryouta, but the whisper of curiosity, with it's lips dripping with honey, tormented Ryouta's logic and fear.
It wasn't long before curiosity wormed it's way into his mind, and almost moved for Ryouta.
Everything inside Ryouta's body and mind screamed in protest, but curiosity is a funny thing.
He clenched his fist…
An explosion of light blasted through the room, and dissipated into darkness within milliseconds. Like the flash of a camera.
Suddenly, on his knees before him, was a young man, presumably a young adult (though his height argued contrary.)
Shirtless, covered in strange red markings on his chest, forearms, and head; and with blond hair braided down to his mid back.
He, slowly, lifted himself up, and looked around, almost panicky.
"Al?" he whispered.
"ALPHONSE?!" he now shouted, looking up at Ryouta with a look of both fear and confusion.
He then shot Ryouta a dirty look, and sternly asked one fatal question,"Where's my brother?!"