Neptunian Theory: The Return of The Phantom
by MilesThorn
Chapter 1: In Which we Begin our Tale
In a darkened room, far away from all life as we know it, a lone man entered with barely a limp. With a slouched countenance and a breath quite rasp, he hobbled in a straight line towards his eventual goal, the light from the outside being the only guiding force for him.
The ghastly room let out a sigh of dust, having waited for another soul to enter its abode for nearly a century. The walls with their dilapidated paint, and the furniture with the fabric worn with time; such a familiar presence to this man, who merely shook his head at an age gone by. He cared little for the room then, and now when the time came for him to finally return to it, he felt a saddened expression he hadn't felt since his youth.
At the very end of the room, just at the edge of the outside light, rested a rather elegant box styled as a coffin. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds, amethysts, and all sorts of gems dotted the fine structure, which was slowly losing its golden glow. All the pictures drawn upon it, which detailed the adventures and life of a long-lost soul, slowly etched away with the dust, leaving behind a shadow of what was once its former glory. The being did not mind for the lost work; such elegance meant little to him these days.
Alas, with weakened legs and a tired outlook, he arrived at such a creation. With the swift move of a hand, he carted away all the dust lying above on the surface, and marveled at the action he was about to do. Only the tiny insects that sought refuge here could witness his rather abstract decision this day. He observed the crevice as if it was his own painted canvas, and with a hefty sigh, he placed his rather metallic hands underneath the cover.
With the mightiest of heaves, his weakened frame was able to find the strength to lift the old cover straight off. It landed with a thud on the other side, kicking up the dust that formed itself into the air. The man paid no heed to the oncoming thicket, instead choosing to look down into the contents. Even without the proper ability to cry anymore, a rather depressing and nostalgic emotion swept through him. If he could, he would lie down and let the emotions out like rain on a summer day.
Inside the box, laying still as if slumbering, was the presence he sought for nearly a century. Their robes, still clean and tidy, matched perfectly with their sleeping posture. He placed a hand upon their worn cheek, hoping that, perhaps, they would feel the warmth of life radiating from it. Such a beautiful, tragic sight for him to behold. How long he waited for it.
"I'm...sorry I took so long..." the man mumbled to himself, overlooking the item that still pulled at his heartstrings. "I've never meant for you to wait. If...If I had the power, you would be with me since day one."
A little bit of dust dared to dirty its dress, and he swatted it away; nothing should ever dare stain the beauty of the being before him. "You must be so tired of waiting on me. I never was the best with time, I hope you remember!"
He even let out a hearty laugh, and kneeled before the box; though his knees were simply not designed to kneel, he would never prove to be rude towards the one soul he cherished the most. He placed his robotic arms together, and within his head, a prayer was sent.
"Those words I give every day," he let another laugh leave, "perhaps I won't need them much longer!"
With an amen stated, he forced his old body up, struggling as his legs tried their best to defy him. Even in his state, it seemed age wanted nothing more than to claim him. Was such a thing even possible anymore? Life works in mysterious ways.
Another stroke of the cheek, and if he could, he would allow a smile to be etched upon him. This sorry state this person was in; soon, in his eyes, such a state will be nothing but a terrible memory. All those days of wondering, worrying, beating himself up over it...it will all be over. Relief can finally return to his palette of emotions.
Preparations were almost complete.
With a sorrowful sigh, he turned away from the box, and looked towards the doorway. On the other side, sounds of shuffling feet and haunting music played over and over. Everyone outside was more than prepared for the great event he had planned. Not a single being in this whole building stood still or even took a tiny break; they all were frantic, rushing to get whatever task they needed finished as done as humanely possible.
He couldn't be more proud. Now, it seemed, it was his turn to get his own task done as soon as possible.
He turned again to the box, and let out another laugh. "It's almost time, my love. Your wait for me will finally come to a close. You...you won't have to worry about a thing anymore. I assure you that!"
He leaned against the box, looking down upon the contents. The light before him suddenly darkened, as another soul suddenly came in. Unlike this old soul, this one was youthful, anxious, and prepared to say the greatest thing the old being ever wanted to hear.
The young man, clad in silver armor much like the days of the medieval age, prepared a salute, and swallowed as much air as his lungs could hold. Today, in his mind, would be the best day of everyone's lives.
"Sir, preparations are completed! Awaiting your orders!"
The old soul looked up, but never at the younger one. A tiny cackle, almost too silent to be heard, came from his old lungs. "I see," he muttered, before walking around, grabbing the cover and placing it back on the box. The young boy ran up to help, but the old man shooed him away, still never taking sight of him. "Well then, get everyone ready. The red letter day is upon us!"
The young boy, sheepish in his stance, saluted once more with a "Sir!" coming out, before he ran back out, ready to fulfill his next major assignment.
The old being looked down at the box, and another feeling washed over him, only this time it was not of sadness, but of satisfaction. For once, a happy feeling returned to his worn heart.
"Your wait is over, Milady. Today, we make history once more. Today, you will join me again in our bliss. Today, you shall watch as your enemies crumble before you."
With another hearty laugh, the man hobbled out of the room, closing the door but taking care not to lock it. He knew that, unlike every other day that passed, this room will see its importance finally fade away.