"Look alive, sunshine.
109 in the sky
But the pigs won't quit.
You're here with me,
Doctor Death Defying,
I'll be your surgeon,
Your proctor, your helicopter,
Pumping out
The slaughtomatic sounds
To keep you live.
A system failure
For the masses,
Anti-matter
For the master plan.
Louder than God's revolver
And twice as shiny.
This one's for all you
Rock and rollers,
All you crash queens
And motor babies!
Listen up!
The future is bulletproof!
The aftermath is secondary
It's time to do it now
And do it loud,
Killjoys,
Make some noise!"
Killjoys: Rebel Heaven
Chapter 1
How the hell did this happen?
That's all I can say. How the hell did this happen? I have no idea where I am, well that's not entirely true, I have an idea but it's a bit of a stretch. Then again, I saw a familiar dragon just shooting like a rocket across the sky and in the five minutes since I got wherever the hell I am, I nearly died six times.
But I guess no matter where the hell I am, right now, it seems that these people, and beasts and monsters and whatever else, need me.
Don't ask me why I think this, after all, what can I do?
But there is something that tells me different, a voice that's saying, "A man is only limited by two things; his pride and his will."
Maybe this is crazy.
Maybe it isn't.
But there's one thing I know.
Whatever I do, I will give it my all.
I guess I'll rewind a bit, go back some to how this began. After all, there might be some clues to how the hell this happened to me in the first place. That and I might have been going too fast.
When, from what I can gather, it all started was this morning. I was late for college, so since my parents weren't there to stop me and I was desperate, I decided to ride my bike. Hey, it's an hour and 15 minute walk from my house to the college, and I had half that to get there on time, cut me some slack!
Anyway, I managed to make it in time and locked up my bike on the bike rack, running like hell up the stairs for the third floor. As I got into class, the boredom of a Monday started to set in, sapping my energy…
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Michael slid into the seat, resisting the urge to slip his backpack under his head and fall asleep. College, unlike high school, wasn't free, and despite what his parents said, it was obvious he'd never hear the end of it if he failed, but doing the work was something he needed to keep up on if he wanted to keep going, but, back to the class.
Math, the worst of his subjects, it wasn't that he was slow, far from it from his teachers. He was supposed to be extremely bright; math just didn't always come very easy. Perhaps it was the step skipping he did at the beginning, shaky foundations lead to a shaky building, but that didn't matter at the moment.
The teacher gave a lecture, and Michael hadn't brought his book, so he couldn't hide his face behind it to use his IPod, not that he was ignorant to the fact that he shouldn't but it was those small things that were hard to resist. He focused as much as he could, when he heard something. It was a small voice in his head. He wasn't crazy; he heard voices all the time. Hell, he even would talk with the characters from his video games and his book projects from time to time. This was somewhat different. This time, it didn't seem like it was a voice that he'd created.
Have you ever tried talking to yourself? It's somewhat pointless, because when you speak, you already know what you're going to say, because it's coming from you. This wasn't like that, Michael couldn't tell what the voice was going to say beforehand, and that sent a bell off in his head.
'Help… Can you hear me…? You have too…'
That was strange, but he went to his next class quickly, more concerned with being on time than voices that spoke to him.
…
But…
He couldn't shake thinking about that voice. It was familiar, and he knew it, but he couldn't quite place where he'd heard the voice before. Despite needing to focus on school, his thoughts wandered, a small part of his brain trying to piece the mystery together while the rest of it focused on class.
The time was 10:28
Michael got to class, but now the voice was at the forefront of his mind. Where had he heard it before? 'Was it telepathic communication? Did someone try to contact me through my thoughts? Most people don't think that is possible…' then he smiled to himself, '…good thing that I'm not most people, then.'
It was true, what most people put off as just fiction, he'd decipher and take apart, pretty much automatically, seeing how it might be something real, how the science his society depended on could be used to bring the fantastic to the realistic world. It was like this every day.
But now he had to think about class, and once more had to fight falling asleep. Though this time, he had something to occupy his time and keep him attentive. 'I know I've heard that voice somewhere before, but from where and from who would be the questions I need answered. What's more, why would someone want my help? What can I do, besides talk their ear off? Unless they actually had some resources or need my thought processes themselves, then the situation might be one I can aid. But the question still remains, who is it?'
Class proceeded unhindered, and once it was over, he left, actually having time to relax, since he didn't have any more classes.
It's too bad that the thought creases forming on his head wouldn't go away, then.
'Why is this nagging me so much?'
'Because I know this voice from somewhere.'
'But the where is the question. I know the voice is familiar, but why can I not place the source of it? This is the first real life mystery I've been a part of, and I intend to take it apart like paper in a shredder.'
The time was 11:10
Michael grabbed his lunch bag and proceeded to the classroom sized 'cafeteria' the campus had. It was disgraceful. Not that it was covered in filth or anything like that, it was perfectly clean, but most of the computer labs, hell all the class rooms in the building had more space than in here. The campus wasn't even in charge of its own vending machines. That was a bit stupid, really.
But, regardless of the absurdity, it was irrelevant the size as long as they had a working microwave and food for sale in the school store.
Michael ate his lunch in silence, his food disappearing quickly as he ate without thought, his mind wandering. Some ideas came together in his head. Some of them were familiar, others not as much. But he couldn't make that voice leave his mind at peace.
Then he heard it again.
'Please…Hear me…we need your help…'
Now he was sure that it wasn't imagined. He would most likely have added a foul word in there just to throw people off; it was a habit that he hadn't shaken. But now he knew that the voice was real, so he couldn't help but wonder if it worked both ways…
'Yes, you asshole, it does! Now are you going to help or not?!'
THAT seemed more like he thought it up, but still…
Michael shook it off. Something didn't seem right. There was a sense in the back of his head that made him want to shy away from this strange set of circumstances.
And there was another that wanted him to jump in, not just to save lives, but to experience the adventure that he craved so much.
So, he sat at a computer screen, and when in doubt, type.
The long, dark hallway stretched before him like the green mile of an old prison…
No, that just seemed wrong.
…like the inside of an enormous snake…
Ew, now that was just a bad image and didn't fit the picture in his head.
…like a silent fart in a crowded elevator…
Where the hell did that come from?! Then he remembered, Yu Yu Hakusho, the Rando arc, Kuwabara to Urameshi before the first fight of the third round, when Urameshi was trying to guess which of the contestants Rando was. With that little brain fart, Michael decided to pack in the author work for the day, and started walking.
'…let the door be written between the two truths…'
He froze. This was another new voice, making three. This one was odd, it seemed totally new, and it sent chills across Michael's back. He started moving again.
'…let one reality be exchanged for another…'
Now he felt like breaking into a run, but instead forced himself to slow his walk down a bit, so that he could focus on what was being said.
The newest voice, unlike the others, seemed to have a sense of disembodiment, unlike the other two which seemed to come from someone; this seemed to come from something, something Michael really didn't want to meet at the moment. The next thing to happen really gave him the chills.
'…midday to midnight…'
"…and midnight to midday…"
'…at this auspicious point of change, balanced between our two worlds…'
"…all the laws of nature are now obeyed and the requirements fulfilled…"
'…the door now opens for the one…'
"…that answers the call…"
That was seriously freaking creepy. Not only were new people popping up in his head, now he was speaking along with them in some weird spell that he had no idea of what it would do to him! Michael started to break into a run.
'…the path is only open to he who chooses to walk it. Thus, it is your decision. Do you choose this path?'
"I do…"
And he tripped.
As his body started to fall forward, he saw something that lay on the ground in front of him. A tear, no, a crack that seemed to form on the floor that he hurtled to. It had an edge like an infinite rainbow, constantly shifting colors and making a beautiful but mind-bending display. Within the border of the rainbow crack, a distorted image like it was in a badly focused glass. He couldn't tell what it was on the other side, but it did NOT look pleasant. Finally, he caught sight of a thin fabric that seemed to be wrapped around the crack on the ground. It was a thin line wrapping across the crack, and it seemed to be made of words, like a spell given shape and released to keep the 'door' open, or maybe to hold it together. It looked very fragile, and so, with one last ounce of sense, Michael twisted just enough to fall on the crack without touching the 'word thread'.
And as he fell into it, one thought crossed his mind before unconsciousness.
'This seems awfully familiar somehow…'
…
Darkness…
That was all that was to be seen. Nothing but pure darkness all around him. Michael got up, or down, or stood in the pitch black void that he had fallen into. He walked around, looking for a bit, and trying to find something, anything, he could see other than darkness. But there was nothing to be found. The very ground he stood on was invisible, yet he knew he was standing on something because he could feel it.
This whole area seemed weird. For one, it was pitch black, no light source, no texture to the ground, nada. Second, he could see himself and his things fine, despite having no source of light whatsoever. And third, there was something that was nagging him at the back of his mind, something that had been mentioned earlier that he couldn't quite remember. The thing was, it seemed important, like it would explain everything. What was it?
'I believe the line you are looking for is 'let one reality be exchanged for another'.'
Michael jumped. 'What was that?!'
'Who, not what, you simpleton, good god, I'm supposed to pin my hopes on you? What a sad state of affairs I have fallen to.'
He looked around, but Michael couldn't find the source of the voice. 'Don't tell me someone else is taking up a bunk in my mind. Any more personalities and I might as well be schizophrenic.'
'Hardly, I'm not 'in your head' as you put it. I'm right here, in front of you.'
'Where? I can't see you.'
'Tch, fantastic, it seems you and I are not destined to meet yet.'
'Yet, what do you mean yet?! Where am I, what is going on?!'
'Oh, come now, Michael. You of all people should know where you're going. You are attached to it, after all, quit playing stupid!'
'I'm not playing stupid, stupid! Where am I, where am I going, how am I supposed to go anywhere when I can't even see where I am?! How do you know my name?!'
'Well then, perhaps there is a good reason why you can't see me after all. Well, no matter, you best get going.'
'Going where?!'
'You'll see. Now go, it's not good to keep the ones who called you waiting.'
Before he could say anything else, Michael felt himself trip again, only it was more of a 'trip' than actually tripping. His center of gravity flipped, and he fell into the darkness toward another hole like the one before, but with a few differences. One, the thin line of words holding it together seemed to border it this time instead of go right across, and two, the image was much clearer, but it was changing so much that it was no wonder he couldn't tell what it was before, the image wasn't coherent.
Then he fell through and landed on his face.
…
"Waugh!"
He fell into the dirt headfirst, landing with his legs in the air for a moment before they fell, to allow him to try and pull his face off the ground, his mouth full of dirt and grime.
"Aw, yuck! Ptui! That's just great, I talk with a strange voice that says its right in front of me, says a bunch of weird things, and then drops me on my face somewhere I don't know! Great, now I'm in a strange land I…don't…know…"
His rant tapered off as he watched a large purple scaly something just flit through the air over his head. It started to breathe fire on the charred and abused landscape. Michael climbed a hill to get a look of the land.
To say what he saw was insane would be an understatement.
(Song of the moment: Hypnotica by Two Steps from Hell)
Before him lay a destroyed land, ruined and corrupted by the fires of war. A forest lay burning to the east, creatures of all kinds, even those he was told didn't exist, sprinting for safety. To the west lie a castle, shattered and broken, sagging in all its stone glory like a wounded boar, catapults and battering rams hammering away at the walls, soldiers using weapons of all kinds to kill and burn and pillage the surrounding homes. To the north, icy mountains, plagued by flying beasts and contraptions from every age of man, and some not even of man, dancing the ballet of death upon the cloud-breaking stage of the ice and rock mountain tops. In the center of it all was a field, where soldiers waged war of all kinds. Hideous beasts and menacing automatons fought against their own kind and others, fighting some force that Michael could not pick out from his distant vantage point. When he looked back, he saw desert, and more mountains, but unlike their frosty brethren, these mountains were red with the dust of high heat and lack of water.
When he turned back, the war in the field seemed to take a turn for the worse for one side. A large demonic boar took to the battleground, and started to tear into all soldiers left and right, ripping them to shreds and spreading blood, oil, and parts on either side of his warpath, like a walking, snorting, charging mower of death. Then the boar was knocked on his side by a large boulder, only for the boulder to unroll and start to pummel the helpless giant boar. Somehow, the beast escaped to live another day, and the ones that beat on it returned to the fight with renewed vigor, tearing into their enemies with vengeance unlike any other.
A large ship fired a rocket at the purple creature, which shot lightning from its tiny maw to destroy the projectile, and then started shooting flame at the aircraft, which started to in turn duck and weave to get away. Another aircraft, this looking very much like an engorged missile with a cockpit, fired a laser that missed the dragon, who dove down as fast as it could to get away. Then a third, very, very large craft descended from the skies with a familiar mustachioed logo on the side, targeting the two other aircraft and then firing large amounts of projectiles. Bullets, rockets, and even lasers were fired at the two enemy craft, both of which nimbly evaded the weapons and returned with weapons of their own, only for them to be caught in a yellow energy shield.
The castle seemed to be on the verge of a collapse, and just as a battering ram was about to deliver the final blow, a blue field surrounded the castle and pushed away everything and everyone trying to take it down before dissipating. A diagram appeared in the air over the castle, and then a column of fire shot down, appearing to incinerate the castle, only for the castle to continue to be standing, black particles dissipating from an unusual field that was projected around the building at the last minute.
Michael stood in awe of all of this, watching as one creature turned on another, as goliaths fought with tooth and nail against giant robotic monstrosities, hearing the sounds of countless lasers and arrows and swords clashing against armor, metal, and flesh in a cacophony of destruction, and he became a spectator of an unearthly war, a war that people would dream to see, but fear to see happen in the real world.
It looked like a war of gods of every breed.
He took hold of a flag embedded into the rock next to him, trying to catch his breath which left him for some reason. His eyes grew wide; he could feel the fear of death and pain invading his mind, even this far from the fighting.
And it scared the hell out of him.
(End of song)
When a rocket streaked over his head, nearly burning him in the process, he took that as a cue to head for cover. He sprinted, looking for cover as the war started to spread its seeds in his direction. Troops and crafts met their foes upon the dusty peaks that Michael had appeared on, ignorant to his panic and more concerned with the death of the enemy than the life of one teenager. Michael took to the rocks like a goat, moving as fast as possible, even going on four limbs to keep away from all the weapons that flew his way. He did grab a stray knife that nearly impaled his skull, making sure to have some way of defending himself if he was mistaken for an enemy. Then he saw it – an overhang among the stones, not very large, but large enough for a skinny teen with nothing but a stray knife and the clothes he wore.
Michael scrambled for it, taking a step back when he nearly got impaled on a musket shot before heading forward again. He ducked, bobbed, and weaved around the men and women fighting to the death around him, doing his best to avoid catching eyes or drawing attention. One man, with an arm covered in scales, got impaled by a spear and fell right in front of Michael's path. Michael saw this, and caught his eye.
He nearly gave. The pleading look that man had made him want to take the head off of whoever had done that, but he was too close to his goal to stray now. But he couldn't leave the man behind to suffer a slow death, or a more brutal one. So, Michael took his hand, the left one covered in scales, and started to drag him toward the hiding spot. Once the two of them got under the rock, Michael was able to breathe again.
The man with the scaly arm groaned in pain, and Michael crawled over to his side.
"Shh! I don't want to get found!"
"Please, help me."
"I, I don't know how! Keep quiet, I want to live, with all of my limbs attached preferably!"
"P-please help me. I'm scared, I don't want to die."
That struck a nerve. 'This guy is in the same boat as me.' Michael bit his lower lip, thinking. 'Well, I read in a novel where someone was run through with an arrow, and then they snapped it in half. That would be a good idea here; it would make it easier to pull out. But I need to make it break clean so it doesn't splinter, or worse. How do I-'
Then he remembered the knife. With his left hand, he got a firm grip on the soldiers right, "Alright, I have an idea. I'm pretty sure it'll work, but it might take a second. Just hold on, I'm right here."
"Thank you, thank…you…"
"Hey, HEY, WAKE UP!"
The soldier had passed out. Michael worked quickly, using the teeth of his knife to chew a slit on the shaft of the spear, enough to get a clean break without any splinters, and no complications. Taking the spear in both hands, he tried to get it to break, but it wouldn't budge. He used his foot, applying some heavy pressure to help snap it, and the spear gave. He flipped the soldier over, whipped out the other half of the spear, and then proceeded to take his shirt and cut it into a long strip to wrap around the man's midsection, and cover the wound. Now the bleeding was stopped, and he wasn't in immediate danger of dying, hopefully.
Michael dragged him closer to the point in the rock where it met the ground, hiding him from danger, and leaving him the more exposed one. It seemed like hours passed by around the pair, the sounds and emotions of war going on around them without end. A few bodies fell near the hiding spot, but those were dead before they ever hit the ground. A couple of times entire parties of soldiers came by, and Michael had to scramble further under the stone or risked being discovered and pulled out, possibly even captured and killed.
As time went by, the fighting moved on. It went deep into the hot mountains of this strange land, and as the last flag disappeared over the horizon, Michael let forth a sigh of relief. Now they were out of immediate danger, but a new question arose. When the soldier's teammates and allies were unable to find his body among the dead, would they come looking for him? Would someone come looking here and find his bandaged form, and him with his knife? Panic felt like it was about to rise in Michaels throat and project itself on the dirt. He had to get out of here, who knows what might happen to him if he got caught. So he started to rise, gripping his knife tightly in one hand.
The soldier woke up. His head, a bunch of dark skin and even darker hair with several scars, looked at him with blue eyes that touched the soul. Michael slumped, he couldn't abandon this man right now, and he needed help. Maybe getting him to his allies could get some answers, at the very least a warm bed and a meal or two. Michael got down on his knees.
"Hey, you sleep well?"
"Yeah. Thanks for the help. If you hadn't been there to get the spear out I might have…"
"Don't think about that, please. I don't want to be reminded of what went on while you were knocked out."
"Squeamish?"
"No, well, not really. It was the cries of all those people, of all the dead and dying in their final moments. I saw so much blood, and I was hidden here under a rock with you. I can even smell the rot in the corpses now. Its, its…"
"…horrifying, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"That's war, no honor, no real reward, just an excuse to make a thousand men kill a thousand other men for no reason than their leaders say so."
"If you look down on war, why fight in one?"
"I may not like it, but I'll be damned if I sit around waiting for someone to take my little girl away if I can do something to stop it."
There was a silence after those solemn words. It seemed this man was ready to die for his child, to keep her safe. That was a determination that felled countless evils, as Michael had read.
"So, what's your name?"
"I am Raziel, just a humble foot soldier. If I may be so bold, I'd like to know the name of the one who saved me, so that I could thank him properly. So, who are you?"
"Okay, I'm…"
Michael thought for a second. Would it be a good idea to give out his real name? He knew nothing about the laws of the strange world he appeared in, or of the power giving a name would have held over you, so…
"Let's just say I am a friend."
"Cautious one, aren't you, very well, thanks for saving my life, friend."
"Don't worry; I did what needed to be done."
Michael took the half of the spear with the blade, the part that had been stuck inside Raziel, and started moving.
"Where are you going, my friend?"
"I need to get moving. I have to find out where I am, and you need to get back to your friends in the army."
Raziel laughed, "I have no friends among those brutal killers."
"Just the same, you need to get back to them if you want to go home."
"Yes, I suppose you're right."
Raziel tried to stand, but his feet gave way under him and Michael caught him before any more damage could be done.
"You got hurt more than I thought. This is bad, we need to find a way to move you without hurting you any more than you already are."
"I'm fine, really."
"Liar."
Raziel let loose his warm, heartfelt laughter once more. "Ha! Ah, I needed that."
"What was so funny."
"Oh, you just reminded me of an old friend."
Michael looked around, searching for anything that he could use to carry Raziel across the desert-like mountains. He saw a chariot with a broken wheel, a horse stuck between rocks by rubble, and a stray gear, one that looked like it might work as a replacement…
The gears in his mind started grinding away, and he looked at the spear piece he was holding in his left hand. It wasn't very long, but the other half…
"What are you thinking, friend?"
"I think I have an idea. Pass me the long chunk of handle next to you, yes that piece, and just wait a little bit. I got something that might carry us both across this blazing wasteland.
With a two and a half piece of wood in both hands, his knife and spear point safe with Raziel, he set to work. He calmed down the horse with some soothing words, and with the beast relaxed, he started trying to loosen the rocks holding it in place. He rolled a fairly large stone at the top into position, the shaft of the spear below it. Making some calculating motions in the air, he gave the rock a quick shove, and it fell, landing on the wood just right so it wouldn't fall, but neither would the lever he improvised snap, and the debris shift just enough to fall apart and free the horse.
Raziel looked a bit surprised. 'That was very clever. I would never have thought of using something like that, that boy certainly has a bright brain inside his skull.'
Then Michael, with the horse's help, set to work getting the broken wheel off the chariot. He wiggled the already loose wheel a bit, and when it was loose enough, he got the horse moving, making the already weak wheel snap from the surprise of the yank from the horse.
Rolling the gear into place, he used a wall of stone nearby to help get the gear over his head, and then he lowered it gently onto the spoke. The gear fit perfectly, and then with some heavy rocks and an hour of waiting, the new wheel was finally in place and the horse was hooked up to the repaired chariot, with some instruction from Raziel.
Raziel took hold of Michael's shoulders as he carried him over. He placed his new friend in the chariot, being careful to make it so he wouldn't fall out, and then he took the reins.
"Do you know how to drive a chariot?"
"I think so. The horse responds to pulls from the reins. I pull the left one, it goes left, I pull right, and it goes right. Snapping the reins gets us going, and then pulling on both reins makes the horse stop."
"You seem very knowledgeable for your age."
"I like to read," he said, and then he snapped the reins, setting the horse in motion for the now empty valley…
As they descended into the valley, Michael asked his friend a few questions.
"So, where are your friends?"
"They're in the castle to the west."
"So you were part of the defending army I take it?"
"Yes, look out keep your eyes on the road!"
A sharp turn avoided a collision with a fallen giant robot spider.
"Sorry!"
"Don't apologize, keep your eyes forward! I thought you said you could drive a chariot!"
"I said that I thought I could! I don't get much opportunity to practice!"
After a few more close calls, with night now falling around them, they arrived at the castle. The guards at the front lowered their weapons, which seemed to have a lot of variety, but stopped when they noticed Michael carrying Raziel on his shoulders.
"Hey, it's Raziel!"
"Hello, Begralo, it's good to see you."
The other three soldiers escorted Raziel inside: a dragon man, a talking tiger, and a bronze robot. The human one named Begralo stayed back to thank Michael for bringing Raziel home.
Michael shied away from it, "It was nothing."
"Nothing? We thought that he was dead! His little girl will be so relieved to find out her father is okay. We owe you for this."
"You don't owe me anything."
"Liar, come on in, let me buy you a drink, you deserve one for what you did tonight!"
Michael, helpless before the oppressing personality of Begralo, was herded into the castle. As he entered, he noticed a familiar symbol. It looked like a dragon, but all the pieces were not connected, and the head of the dragon was very familiar.
It was a triangle constructed of three smaller triangles stacked into a flat pyramid, with a triangle shaped opening in the center.
'The tri-force, that's the Zelda royal family crest. That can't be, but if it is, then…'
'…where I am…'
'…is Hyrule.'
