Heroes

by C A Withey

Doom, Unreal, Duke Nukem, Heretic and Quake cross-over. Rated M for Mature language.

Heroes

In the center of what surely must have been the innermost depths of Hell knelt a man, elvish by birth, with skin both fair and taut over a slim but muscular frame. Hair long and dark cascaded in a controlled descent through braids down his naked back. Piercing eyes, wild and feral, looked about him as this man named Corvus merely watched nervously, too fearful to act, as this world spat the worst at him. He clutched his hardwood staff with whitening knuckles as he stole glimpses of violent men, both raging and mindless, from where he hid behind dirty metal crates. Upon them the soiled, distorted reflection of the room was not so different from the actual world itself: dirty, spoiled, and claustrophobic. It was naught but a brutal maze of rigid angles, twisted steel, and oppressive death. The blasts of controlled explosives echoed loudly and remorselessly in his tender ears. Fired rounds and voluminous reports erupted from any dozens of mechanical weaponry. The casings of spent bullets and fallen men littered the grounds like tossed refuse upon only another trash heap. The air itself, as oppressive as the war raging endless all around, was thick with smoke as if lit from a thousand tobacco pipes. And nowhere in this place was there a cold panel of steel not dripping with fresh crimson.

How did he get here? Corvus wracked his brain, his thoughts made desperate by the brutality he witnessed. His course had been set: he had been chosen by the surviving peoples of Silvermoon to set forth and quest to the vile Serpent Rider to end his oppression upon the elven folk. It was a noble goal, but not one he had taken lightly. The road to the Serpent Rider promised to be long and arduous: it was filled with Turned Peoples and the Rider's wretched minions.

But, despite all odds, Corvus had quested well. He had battled the golems that was the Turned People, freeing the souls of his brethren. He had disposed of fiendish imps, empty knights beyond death, and impossible liches of great power. He had evicted these demons from his once proud city, followed them to the depths of their Hell, and then continued pressing on even to the Serpent Rider's under-sea dome, engaging him directly.

That sorcerous banshee had summoned his occult worshipers to his side as they battled, making Corvus' final battle the most difficult of all. But with his magicks and his weapons, Corvus cut down those unholy acolytes and then struck a mortal blow to the Rider's own serpent.

Standing above his hard-fought adversary, Corvus prepared the final blow which would lift the curse upon his people and bring an end to all the evil that had befallen his land.

But here Corvus was now: cowering behind fleeting shelter in a world of metal and fire whilst men of all types sought only to destroy each other. How could this be? What could have happened to so drastically alter his sure course?

There was a robed man—this Corvus remembered well. He stood there, in the under-sea fortress, alien and starkly out-of-place. Serpentine minions came from all sides to dispatch of him but in a blinding flash of light they had all vanished.

This had caught the attention of the two assailants nearby. Corvus turned—so too did the Serpent Rider—to look upon the face of a dark-skinned man with a face like steel and eyes of ice. Even as he stared down at Corvus and the Rider he stared right through them, beyond them, as if they scarcely existed to this man.

And before either could react, a flash of light consumed them, and Corvus was left deposited in this Hell, his battle left unfinished.

The piercing scream of a rocket ripping through the air overhead brought Corvus back to the present. Lost within himself, he emerged from his reverie to find that he was locking eyes with another. He ducked down quick as he could, fearing that his hiding place had been compromised. This new stranger, however, merely scoffed and turned aside in search of new victims.

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

Duke didn't claim to know what was going on. Nor did he care. As far as he was concerned, he was kicking ass back on Earth, shoving his size twelve boots down the throats of alien scum everywhere. Then some dirty negro in a bathrobe showed up out of nowhere and teleported him to this place.

When he had first arrived, Duke had taken one look around and recognized this place for what it was: a spaceship. Bound to parts unknown with the crew either missing or holed away behind some security hatch.

Duke looked down at the rifle laying at his feet, saw the other bastards coming at him with their own weapons, and it all clicked into place. He picked up the gun and let loose, blowing the other sorry sons-of-bitches straight to Hell.

Humans, aliens: they're all the same on the other end of a gun. They both bleed.

It was only a sorry few that didn't make the effort worthwhile. Like that shirtless pansy-bitch hiding behind the crates. Wouldn't even fight back. Worthless bastard.

Duke moved on, letting his newly found rocket-propelled grenade launcher lead his course.

Blasting through a few more meat bags, Duke came across something he had never expected to see: a woman. She wielded a beefy gun and was toting it around like any bastard with a big pair. She looked tough as nails and pissed off to boot, like one of those bitches that never seem to get off the rag, but had a great set of knockers hiding behind her body armor. Duke was suddenly reminded of all the warm, supple strippers back home that would be all over him when he wasn't frying aliens. Despite everything else, Earth's invasion had definitely given him more than one good fuck. Save a bitch from being probed and watch her clothes fall off at her feet.

Slutty chicks and a thousand aliens to kill. Life couldn't have gotten any better.

Until it was all taken away from him. Duke swore he'd kill that dirty bastard if he ever saw him again.

But here before him was a hot little bitch with a gun of her own—and that only made her even hotter. It was time to see how big those tits really were and tap that tight little keg between her delicious legs.

"Hey, bitch!" His voice rang out over the battle raging around them. "Get over here and suck Duke's dick!"

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

Gina was not having a good day. Her entire week hadn't been much better. Herded aboard a prisoner transport ship bound for the worst prison moon in the entire galaxy wasn't even half of it. The real fun began when the ship crashed on some God-forsaken rock, supposedly some new uncharted planet. Only thing she new for certain about this place was that instead of dying slowly and painfully over years of torture, she would now be dying slowly and painfully from the hostile alien races that had long since claimed the planet as their own. Or perhaps one of the indigenous creatures might kill her first: one of the hundreds that fired rockets out of their fucking arms or the ones as tall as a house that threw enormous boulders around like children's toys. Or maybe she'd even die of starvation! If the local, friendly population hadn't of helped her out she may not even have lasted that first day.

And now, to top things off, she was stuck aboard some crummy ship full of stinking, sweaty men that all wanted to kill her! Boy, had this been the last week of the month, that would have just completed the picture.

Mostly, Gina was trying to keep to herself in the midst of this madness. Let the men kill each other off, then come in later for a few quick, easy kills. And should any goons bother her in the meantime, she knew how to take care of herself.

One particular goon would prove to be worse than the others, however. Gina stood crouching upon a grated metal stairway watching the advance of the most unlikely person she had ever seen. In maddening contrast to the suits of body armor everyone seemed to be wearing, in walks a man whose nothing but one big muscle. His chiseled chest carved lines in the thin red beater that clung desperately to his body for fear of falling. His bare arms were tree trunks carved with overlapping bulges of muscle as if they were each fighting for dominance. Below the beater were blue jeans topped by a belt buckle the size of Texas. And above it all, unbelievably, was a swirl of bright blond hair, cemented into perfect posture, and dark sunglasses. Unreal.

With sinking dread, Gina caught him staring at her. And then pouring from his mouth came some blatant profanity that didn't warrant repeating.

"Why did it have to be all men?" Gina yelled to the gods. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Hefting her own rifle, her and the blond-haired hormone danced around the room, exchanging shots and finding cover. Gina unloaded red rounds in a fury, trying as hard as she could to keep Mr. Sunglasses at bay, who appeared to be enjoying their exchange of bullets more than what was healthy. And the profanities never dried up from his ever-running mouth. He had quite the imagination when it came to his own body.

The occasional rocket he sent flying her way wasn't helping matters any. He blasted aside the barrels she had been kneeling behind, sending Gina sprawling to the ground. On her back, she reached for her gun only to find a big black boot standing on it.

"You gonna spread 'em wide for me, bitch?"

Her own boots were steel-tipped, which Mr. Happy-pants no doubt learned when Gina planted a fierce kick up between his legs. He toppled, groaning, dropping his rifle to hold his special gun.

Gina retrieved her own rifle from the floor.

"You just remember that I let you live," Gina said down to the writhing form of masculinity. "Even through you don't deserve it." then she turned and left the room.

Feeling quite disgusted at fighting in general and men in particular, Gina began to explore more of the deck. It was nothing like her prison ship had been, or the many other ships crashed upon that rock. She couldn't be sure which part of the galaxy it could have been made or even where they were now. The few windows she came upon offering a view of the space beyond did little to illuminate their position.

The fighting was deescalating. Most of the men thrown into this vessel were either laying cold upon the deck or holing themselves up somewhere. Such is why, lost in the mystery of their present location, Gina was surprised to come upon a man kneeling before an open console. Dozens of wires and circuits were spilling from the panel, and the dark-haired man of a medium build was poking about them with interest. His rifle sat forgotten on the floor beside him.

Gina's first instinct was to shoot while she still had the advantage. He was completely absorbed in his work, oblivious to her and the world. It would be easy, and might save her a needless firefight later on.

But she wouldn't. Despite the fact that he was just another man, it would be just too much of an indignity. Instead she advanced upon his location, gun at the read in case he tried anything fancy.

When at last her footfalls no longer fell upon deaf ears, the man turned casually around to reveal a scarred face, worn down by many battles, but it was a face that also held a soft composure. A single "oh" escaped his lips not in panic or even surprise, but more as a companionable acknowledgment. He sounded less like a man in battle and more like a performer who has remembered his lines only a moment too late.

He made an effort to reach for his rifle, but it was a halfhearted effort, as if it were only out of duty and not to preserve his life.

Gina saw no threat here. He looked as dangerous to her as a trained circus mouse.

"Forget it," Gina said aloud, pointing her weapon to the ground. "I'm not going to shoot you."

"Good," returned the man with a kindhearted reply. "That would have put rather a large dent in my work here."

Despite herself and the insanity of the world around them, Gina's lips curled into a secret grin while the man's back was still turned to her.

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

When John was abducted to be stashed aboard this flying murder house, he didn't really mind. As far as he was concerned, he had already died and his efforts were purely futile. Perhaps all of this was a mere recess from Hell: the murder going on around him was an intermission between never ending waves of demonic forces. Whatever the case, he took to the gray-robed stranger immediately, hoping for escape. To some effect, his prayers had been answered.

John soon afterward found himself upon an interstellar transport full of homicidal men. They may have been yet more zombies transformed by the sergeants of Hell, but they appeared normal on the surface. If there was some driving force causing these otherwise normal people to take up arms against each other, John couldn't fathom what it might have been.

But it was the spacecraft itself that interested John the most. The technology behind it may have been similar to the computers previously running the Phobos base.

Foregoing the battle completely, John hunkered down in a distant corner of the ship and pried off one of the electrical panels. Loosening the wiring and removing the electronic components proved to be infinitely fascinating. Never had he seen anything like this technology.

The war reached his room briefly and shots echoed in the tight space while the unfortunates cried out in pain and surprise. Then just as quickly as they had moved in, the survivors abruptly left in search of new areas. John has remained out of sight, completely uninterested in the fighting. He scanned the slain laying scattered upon the metallic floor and was reminded of the much more sinister foes he had been fighting only a moment ago. The corridors of Hell were decorated with so many bodies like these: impaled, hanging, or heaped against a wall. He wondered idly why these people, strangers to him, were even fighting each other in the first place. Drug-induced frenzies, perhaps? Emotional deterioration? They didn't appear to be fully in control of their wits as they screamed and jeered and fired upon anything that moved. Perhaps they were a devolved people—a reversing sub-set of the human race.

It would remain a mystery: unsolvable and elusive, unlike the mysteries of this ship, John hoped. He returned to his investigations, eagerly prodding at every device he found within the panel. He wished he had a proper set of tools on his person.

A pair of footfalls, slow, methodical, and markably different from the men before, came upon John's position. He turned, realizing all too late that the situation, for reasons unknown, implied that he was supposed to arm himself. When she waved their armaments away—and indeed John was surprised to hear a female's voice in such a place as this—he complied eagerly.

"Don't you find this all fascinating?" asked John as the woman knelt down beside him. He was gesturing to the opened panel but was referring to everything.

The woman stuttered, in-comprehensive. "Fascinating? You call a banged up ship full of murderers fascinating?"

"Is it not?" John questioned as if it were all too obvious. "Did you not wonder why we're all here, or how we got here, or why the others act the way they do?"

John held no qualms about so quickly inducting this woman, whom remained without a name to him, into their own private posse and excluding all the rest by default. Did the others of this ship not all act like the same type of madmen? Should not the sane band together to benefit their mutual survival?

"I did," assured the woman, "but I was more concerned about remaining intact at the time."

"A fair assessment," John reasoned. "And now that it would appear that imminent dismemberment has passed, what are your thoughts?"

Both shared what they knew, including their names and their similar experiences with an individual in gray robes before arriving here in a flash of light. But neither John nor Gina were comfortable discussing their affairs before this recent abduction. Their pleasantries covered only the immediate present and could not, or would not, extend to the past.

Some time during this exchange, a third individual, yet unseen by either, marched onto deck. His brown armor was battered and dirty, looking a thousand years old and full of use. An unremarkable helmet of matching brown framed his impassive face and covered his bald scalp. He looked at the two kneeling behind the crates, his eyes cold and assessing, appearing as devoid of life as a walking machine. His expressionless face never changing, he leveled his shotgun towards his targets.

"Don't shoot!" John cried, turning toward the newcomer. Gina, in the meantime, was already sighting her rifle.

The stranger's reaction surprised them both. "Yes, sir."

Gina looked down at John incredulously, unbelieving, while John just looked back at her with his shoulders shrugged.

"Do you know what's going on here?" John posed, unsure of whether the reply would come from the stranger's lips or his shotgun barrel.

"No, sir."

At least he was polite, John surmised, even if a little mechanical.

"Lower your weapon!" Gina ordered fiercely, her sights never leaving his head. And he did so, continuing to follow their every command.

"Who are you?" John asked, standing to get a better look at their latest arrival.

The stranger's response was immediate and rehearsed. "Ranger, sir. Fellow soldier of the Slipgate Complex."

"Never heard of it," Gina assessed critically. She continued to sight him down with her rifle. Even immediately she had been mistrustful of this man, and hated him already for reasons she didn't fully comprehend.

The soldier, Ranger, said nothing to her. Perhaps because it wasn't a command, John reasoned.

"Come over here and defend our position," John offered. Gina eyed him crossly but said nothing.

Ranger did as bid, marching into position behind the crates and leveling his shotgun at the entrances. Gina maintained a weary eye upon him whilst John resumed his tinkering of the electrical panel.

He wouldn't be allowed to work for very long.

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

In a flash of light the world was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. Without any warning they all found themselves suddenly elsewhere: Corvus the elf, Gina the convict, John the marine, Duke the hothead and Ranger the soldier. All five were instantly reunited and placed inside a small receiving room. Corvus marveled at it all, wondering what type of magic made it all possible. John found himself wondering what type of technologies could make that kind of instantaneous travel possible. And Gina and Duke immediately brought up their arms against each other—Gina in self-defense, and Duke because he didn't believe the battle to be over. He was the first to pull this trigger, discovering in the process that their arms were no longer operational. Gina followed suit experimentally, discovering hers to be equally disabled.

"Damn it," Duke spat out, throwing his broken weapon to the floor. He started toward Gina with fists raised just as the room's solitary door slid upwards into the ceiling. In walked a man clad in a rigid green uniform. He stood tall and proud; his gait was as rigid as his pressed outfit. His hands were clasped behind his back and his chin was raised as he looked down at the others. His gaze was cold and unfriendly as he stood beneath the room's singular hanging bulb. A small entourage followed in his wake, each of them bearing rifles that looked much more operational than their own weaponry.

"My name is Colonel Jax," stated the newcomer. "And you five are our newest recruits, courtesy of the boys at the Centerworld Citadel."

"What manner of place is this?" asked Corvus, who looked more than a little overwhelmed. He gazed about the room and the others with eyes wide as saucers. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Pipe down, pretty-boy, and you might learn," Colonel Jax snapped. "At the request of the Bloodmatch administrative board, you were all chosen for us by the Centerworld Citadel to be recruited for the Games."

"What the hell does any of that mean?" Gina demanded. "What 'Games' are you talking about? None of this makes sense."

"For those of you who have been living under a god-damned rock, it means you get a chance to be famous," Colonel Jax continued. He enunciated each word with exaggerated meaning, as if speaking to a child. He put particular emphasis on the word 'famous.' "The Bloodmatch Games are currently the highest rated program in any of the interstellar channels. You'll get to be on T.V. How nice for you."

Four of the five present understood, at the very least, the ramifications of that last statement but were left with even more questions. The fifth, however, was sadly left behind. "What is this T.V. that you speak of?"

Colonel Jax looked with naked disgust over at the half-naked pretty-boy standing in the corner of the room. He thumbed a hand-held radio hanging from his combat vest and spoke into the empty air.

"Where'd you pull these people out of, Vance? Preschool? They're dumb as shit!"

Gina crossed her arms over her chest and tried to kill this 'Colonel Jax' with her gaze. Duke, in the meantime, was devising more tangible ways to kill everyone in the room and escape out the door. This whole ordeal was really starting to piss him off to no end.

"Thank my dumb-ass nephew for these helpless bastards," crackled the equally hostile voice coming through the radio. "He's the big nerd over here. But he claims these five can fight. He says he's seen them in action, or some shit like that."

"Is that so?" Colonel Jax replied, unimpressed. "Well, we watched how they acted during the simulation and the administrative board was, shall we say, less than impressed. Only fucking half of them did any goddamned shooting at all!"

"Simulation?" John thought out loud. No one heard him.

"Ain't my fucking problem, now is it?" raged the invisible being speaking through the radio on Colonel Jax's jacket. "You got your men, now I want my money!"

"It will be your fucking problem if the board doesn't pay you for them, now won't it?" Colonel Jax stormed right back without any hesitation.

This caused the other party some hesitation instead. There was a pause on the other end, during which the only thing that could be heard was the low crackle of static through the radio. Then: "what about live-fire?"

"Haven't done that yet," Colonel Jax replied. "These monkeys would blow their own asses off."

"I'll get back with you. I gotta go find that little weasel Steve and throw him around a little."

Colonel Jax switched the radio off, killing the static. "Fuckin' bastard," he muttered into the air.

The five were left to absorb that entire exchange. Gina was the first to speak: "Are we prisoners here?"

"We're all prisoners to money." It was no answer at all.

"Slaves, then?" Gina persisted. She was suddenly reminded of the docile Nali, natives of the planet she had lived on for the past week. They all lived as slaves under the control of the invading alien races. Each of them were being worked to death in the tarydium mines. Suddenly she loathed this Colonel Jax far more than ever.

"I wouldn't think of it that way," Colonel Jax replied, sounding very much as though that was exactly how he thought of it. "Think of yourselves more as mercenaries, hired guns whose contracts have just been bought by the Bloodmatch board."

"Fuck this," Duke spat out. "I'm nobody's bitch! Nobody tells me what to do!"

"He's right," Gina admitted, though it pained her to do so. "I don't recall signing on for this gig."

"Didn't have to," Colonel Jax replied, his voice staying cool in sharp contrast to everyone else's yelling. "According to me and the rest of the whole goddamned Network, you fucknuts are don't really exist at all. Your entries are nowhere in the system. You're like ugly little figments of my over-active imagination."

Colonel Jax grinned at his own wit. No one else did.

"Is this real enough for you?" Duke yelled out, swinging his fist at Colonel Jax's smug grin. One of the guards stepped forward, drawing an electric prod and shoving it directly into Duke's chest. With an audible crackle of electricity that caused everyone's hairs to stand on end, Duke's body dropped to the floor. He lay writhing in pain, moaning and cursing, his extremities twitching beyond his control.

Two more uniformed guards stepped forward, shackled Duke's arms and legs, and hauled his twitching body out of the room. Colonel Jax collected the electric prod and looked down at it lovingly, a cruel smile twisting his ugly face.

"These were used for cattle once. Then they were given a bit more juice and were recommissioned for riot control. Would anyone else like a taste? There's plenty of juice to go around."

He waved the riot prod in front of each of the remaining four, as if tempting them.

"So we are prisoners, then?" Gina assessed coldly.

"Think what you want," Colonel Jax returned. "But if you play nice and eat your veggies, we might let you out of the playpen now and then to walk around with the grownups."

"I'm going to need one of those handcuffs," Gina said flatly, "before I do something I might regret."

"An honest woman! I appreciate that. Wish we had more like you. You got enough spunk in you to maybe stay alive for a while. Try not to die too quick—you'd be a it with the viewers. Waiter! Give the woman what she ordered."

Another guard stepped forward, strapped Gina's wrists together, and marched her out of the room. Colonel Jax turned to the remaining three.

"Who else needs a complimentary set of fine jewelry?"

"Were we in this room the entire time?" John inquired, curious as a child. "Was that all just a convincing holographic simulation? If so, how did you program the AI? How many human characteristics did they really have?"

"Oh, God help us, we got ourselves a math nerd," Colonel Jax groaned. "Boy, have you ever seen a woman's vagina outside of magazines and porno's?"

John blinked several times, his mental cogs trying to keep up with the blinding pace with which this man was randomly changing subjects.

"How is that in any way relevant here?"

"I have a new name for you. Virgin boy. Funny as hell. You see me laughing?"

He wasn't.

"Now get your ass on out of here, Virgin boy, before my testicles start shrinking. God, just being around you makes me want to join a church choir and sing 'Hallelujah!' Now get a move on!"

Before he could protest further, one of the guards pulled John away and out of sight.

"God damn it, I'm surrounded by retards. The worst part of this job is taking these dumb-ass recruits and pulling their heads out of their asses." He approached Corvus, looking him up and down as if judging a cow for slaughter.

"You look like a goddamn tree-hugging hippie. Do you live in a tree house and eat tofu and do nothing all day but spread your own shit around your fields for fertilizer?"

Corvus stared back at him, puzzled and hopelessly lost.

"My people will surely perish if the Serpent Rider is allowed to live," he pleaded. "Please, you must return me to my own world."

"The hero of your race, eh?" Colonel Jax interrupted. "The last good man of your kind on a quest to save your people from the great evil, after which it's happily-ever-after for everyone?"

"Yes! Yes, you understand, then!"

"Yeah," Colonel Jax assessed. "Yeah, I understand. I understand that it's all a crock of shit! Wake up, Dorothy, you're not in fucking Kansas anymore! I'm the big bad wizard around here, and I don't give a damn who you think you are or what piss-ass tree-hugger land you're from. You're in my world now, and if you don't pull your head out of this deluded fantasy of yours, I might just shoot you myself! You got that?"

Corvus paused for a moment, staring up at Colonel Jax. "You're a wizard?"

The sound of Colonel Jax slapping his face with his palm echoed throughout the entire room.

"Oh my God, I can't believe this! I can't fucking believe what I'm seeing here! Someone haul this helpless bastard out of here before I end up shooting myself in the face just to be rid of his company!"

The escorts came and took Corvus away, all the while Colonel Jax kept speaking to the room itself. "God damn it, I'm going to have to assign one of my men to follow that dumb bastard around just to remind him to breathe! I can't fucking believe it..." He turned and approached the only remaining recruit. "And what's your story, then? The only remaining survivor of some disaster? The warrior chieftain of your tribe? The leader of the rebel faction? I can't wait to hear this one."

"No, sir!"

"No, sir?" questioned Colonel Jax, looking genuinely surprised. "No, sir? Well, did those bastards accidentally bring me a bonafide, real-life soldier?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Well, I'll be damned!" Colonel Jax actually laughed as he turned back to the guards. "Look it here! One out of five may actually be useful. That's fucking amazing." He turned back to the recruit. "What's your name, son?"

"Ranger, sir."

"Ranger. I like that. Be a good boy around here and I'll see to it that you're taken care of. You understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, good." Colonel Jax clasped a hand on his shoulder and led him out the doorway. "I like you. You're like a cool wind blown down from the heavens after having to deal with assholes like those. They're not friends of yours, are they? No? Good. You're better off that way. Now, follow me and I'll show you around..."

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

There were no force fields like it was felt there should have been, nor were there any consoles of glowing lights to sabotage nor electric panels to prod at. There was only concrete in the walls, a single bare bulb, and cold hard steel for the bars of their prison door.

Duke sat upon the hard bench brewing like an evil storm cloud. His arms and legs remained shackled. Gina, who had volunteers for the restraints, was allowed them off once incarcerated. She paced irritably back and forth, restless. John knelt upon the dirty floor looking about with mild bewilderment.

Corvus arrived last. He allowed himself to be led into the cell, even thanking the guards as they bolted the door and turned to leave. The gesture reminded Gina of a lost child, pathetic and alone. But here in this place, were they not all lost themselves?

At least one of them didn't seem to think so. "What the hell you thanking them for, dumbass?"

"They were performing their duty as assigned to them," Corvus replied to Duke's spoken jab. He looked around the small cell uneasily, unsure of his place in this new environment. Gina thought to console him, as small as he suddenly looked, but no words would come. She resumed her pacing instead.

It wasn't much later before they heard, "this sucks."

"You sure complain a lot," Gina observed without sympathy.

"Fuck you."

"It's true," Gina persisted. "And has it not occurred to you that you're not the only one here?"

To this, Duke remained silent. He looked at nothing but a point in space a thousand miles away.

"Such harsh words," Corvus assessed, speaking to himself. He had chosen a far corner of the cell to settle himself into. "Why do the people of this world use such a demeaning tongue for no reason?"

"We're not of this... place, either." Gina was quick to correct him but slow to use such a word as 'world.' It seemed apparent that this was a different planet, yes, and one might think the two words to be the same, but the elf was placing a stress on the word that she wasn't comfortable with. It was as if he used 'world' not to describe just another planet, but something of a much grander scale: something that Gina wasn't prepared to comprehend.

"But you and the others speak and act much like the men that brought us here."

Gina halted her steps and looked at the man anew. His pointed ears and long braids made him seem like a creature of fantasy stories, a creature unfit for their civilized life. As out of place as they all seemed to be, it was clear that this man was far more out of his element than anyone else. She sympathized with him.

"Who are you?" Gina asked.

The man introduced himself as Corvus of Silvermoon. It was unclear whether he referred to this place as a city or a country. He went on to explain his quest to free his people from the Serpent Rider's tyranny and how he was battling the evil sorcerer just as he was pulled here.

"Now without my presence, Silvermoon will surely fall to the Serpent Rider's wrath. My people are in danger! Our captors know not what they do by bringing me here!"

A hero. A savior of his people. Just like the Nali wanted her to be, Gina thought harshly. She was a warrior sent by the gods to strike against their alien slavers as if with holy fire. But she was just as alien to that planet as those creatures had been to her. And her only thought had been to escape, just like she had escaped the battered hull of the Vortex Rikers.

She was no hero. She never had been. That's why she had been on-board that damn ship in the first place. But here, sitting before her, alone and helplessly out of place, was the real thing: a bonafide, story-book hero.

The mere thought disgusted her more than she could ever explain.

"Yea, well, that's too bad," Gina said bitterly as the conclusion of his tale. "We all got our own stories and places we left behind."

"What's your story?"

This last question was asked by John who had thus far remained silent. They turned to see him squatting down in the corner still.

"Well," he persisted. "You said everyone has a story. What's yours?"

Gina stared down at him a long moment, silent, while she decided how she should answer a question like that.

"I was sent to liberate a distant planet from an invasion of hostile aliens," she replied at length.

Duke scoffed at it, and Gina whipped to face him.

"Do you have a problem with that, blondie?" she snapped defensively.

"You wouldn't have been sent in space to kick alien ass since they were here attacking us on Earth."

"The aliens were invading Earth while I was stranded?" Gina asked bewildered.

"Yeah," Duke replied, smiling haughtily. "Buncha ugly little fuckers, too."

"What do you mean, 'stranded?'" John posed, curious.

Gina dismissed him offhandedly. "Ran out of fuel. Were the aliens big and green, some seven feet tall with blades that extended out of their arms? Hard as hell to kill?"

To this, Duke looked momentarily puzzled. "No. Smaller, pink skin, ugly as fuck. Kinda looked like walking bugs. And very easy to kill. They explode nicely with a well-placed rocket blast."

"That's not who I was fighting, then," Gina realized, more confused than ever. "Were they a different race of aliens, perhaps?"

"The Earth I left behind wasn't under attack by aliens by all," John piped up suddenly.

"What are you suggesting?" Gina posed.

"Different existences, perhaps?" John offered. "Different realities, or dimensions? Something of that nature? That would explain these discrepancies."

"You're talking about some science fiction stuff?" Gina replied, critically, unconvinced. "That kind of crap doesn't happen in real life."

"You were just discussing killing aliens on a different planet," John observed flatly.

"What's your point?" Gina shot back.

"Only that when all the rational explanations have been exhausted, the only ones left are the irrational."

"I don't know," Gina replied with a shake of her head. "That's still just insane." She turned to Corvus. "What about you? Any aliens attacking Earth where you come from?"

"I know not what this 'Earth' is that you speak of."

"That helps prove my point." John assessed.

"I don't know. Maybe. It's still too unbelievable. The universe is big enough that we just might be from distant planets. And we all look the same. And three of our planets just happen to have the same name. Could all be a coincidence."

"You believe so?" John asked politely, but was quite skeptic.

"Not really. But it's more believable than 'magical' parallel worlds. We have found lots of planets similar to Earth capable of sustaining life. I just left one of them behind."

"Well, it's true that we can't know for sure right now," John conceded. "Our captors should be able to shed some light on the mystery."

"You haven't shared your story yet, anyway," Gina said diverted the conversation back to what she hoped to be saner grounds.

"Me?" John replied, surprised. "Not much to tell, really. My life was pretty dull."

"I find that hard to believe."

"It's true. I was just relaxing at home enjoying some television when I got pulled here."

Gina stared down at him critically, slow to believe such an unimpressive tale. He met her look with a hard gaze. In it, she saw something that looked like hatred burning in those eyes of his, and she was startled by it. She decided to let the matter drop.

"Well, dumbass, what about you now?" Gina said turning to Duke.

"What about me?"

"What's your story? What were you doing before you came here?"

"What is this, an AA meeting?" Duke protested. "'Hi, I'm Duke, and I'm an alcoholic.'"

"At least we have a name for an asshole, now. Now what were you doing before all of this?"

"Suck my dick and I'll tell ya."

Balancing on her left foot, Gina brought her right boot up inches from Duke's face.

"You two have met already, yes? I can reacquaint you two again if you've forgotten."

"We have enough enemies out there already," John spoke up. "We don't need to be making more in here, too. You two should play nice."

Gina resumed standing on both feet. Her pacing also resumed. After a moment, Duke spoke.

"I was just kicking alien ass and scoring with babes all up and down L.A. since they started their invasion."

"You had time to sleep with cheap whores while saving the world from aliens?" Gina asked incredulous.

"Who said anything about saving the world?" Duke replied simply. "I was just going around kicking ass and taking names. Those bitches are real grateful when you save them fro those alien bastards—grateful enough to do anything you ask..."

His voice trailed off leaving untold stories of his sexual exploits hanging in the air like a foul smell. He grinned viciously.

Feeling more disgusted than ever, Gina barked out a harsh guttural cry of disgust before pacing more vigorously than ever.

"Is that how all men of your world behave?" Corvus questioned.

"God, I hope not!" Gina raged. "Though why, of all the people, we got stuck with this miserable pervert I'll never know!"

John looked around suddenly as a recent revelation dawned upon him. "Wasn't there someone else? A fifth person?"

"A warrior in brown armor," Corvus confirmed.

"Right. Well, if he's not here with us, then where did he go?"

"Don't know, don't care!" Gina ranted viciously, still frustrated. "Maybe he's off taking a piss. Or maybe he's off 'scoring with chicks' in some broom closet somewhere! Who the hell knows?"

"Or, more likely yet, he didn't make Colonel Jax angry like we all evidently did," John analyzed.

"He's a bastard, anyway," Gina remarked. "Screw him, screw his new friend, and screw this whole fucking place. I'm sick of being here."

"You're starting to sound like me," Duke remarked with an evil grin.

"Shut up!"

"Well, there is nothing for us to do but wait, regardless." John observed.

Gina grunted, a gesture which could have meant anything. She continued her pacing. The others waited.

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

The ancient forest standing tall all around them bore an undeniable majesty. Enormous trees, wide as houses, soared to amazing heights before spreading out wide boughs in a canopy nearly as high as the clouds themselves. Around the base of these many woodland giants the ground rose and fell like a restless sea captured in motion. Ferns and grasses grew proud and unhindered in the open terrain between trees. They, like the trees themselves, stretched to impossible heights, as if the entire forest were crafted only for giants to walk about in.

Corvus stood at the base of one of these trees, his head pointing straight up as he studied the reaching branches so high above him. He was completely oblivious to his own surroundings, including both his gun and his teammate nearby. Gina looked down at his firearm, laying dirty and forgotten in the dirt. Then he looked up at Corvus studying the bark so intently. Then she looked back down at his firearm again.

She hefted her own gun, fingering the CO2 canister to ensure that it was properly sealed and checking the pellets in her clip. Their team had been given the blue paint balls.

"That's not going to do you much good on the ground, you know," Gina said offhandedly.

"What an amazing tree," praised Corvus, his head still looking straight up. "It's as high as a mountain."

"Yes, amazing. You're going to get shot, soon."

Corvus gripped a few of the vines that ascended from the base of the tree and tested the deep groves that grew in the thick tree bark.

"Now what are you doing?" Gina sighed as her question hung in the air with no answer. She decided to ignore her only teammate, realizing that it would be up to her entirely to defend their objective. She back tracked, following her footprints back ten meters to circle behind another wide tree to their flag, dangling limply from atop a shiny metal pole stuck in the earth. It, like their ammo, was blue.

"What a dumb idea," Gina protested to the flag itself. "Testing our weapons capability and team-tactics with two flags and paintball guns. What are we even doing here in the first place, anyway? Practicing for the big event on TV? Oh boy, can't wait for that."

A twig snapped behind her. Gina swung around, paintball gun held up and ready, to see the ferns and bushes swaying in a slight breath of a breeze. She honed her eyes for movement, surveying the terrain back and forth, but found nothing. After a moment, she lowered her weapon and traced her path back to Corvus only to find him missing. His blue pellet paintball gun remained exactly where he had dropped it, resting forlorn in the dirt.

"Great. My teammate disappeared. Now it really is just me here."

"Not quite, baby."

Gina crouched low, surveying her surroundings once again. The egotistical and arrogant tone of that voice was instantly familiar.

"Just you and me here in this big ol' forest, babe." Duke strode out from behind a nearby tree, about ten meters from where she currently stood. His hands were spread out at either side as if trying to reason with her, and his dark shades and bright red beater seemed even more out of place here in this forest than on the spaceship where she first saw him. His paintball gun loaded with red pellets was pointed at the dirt.

The wide, confident grin that he wore as he marched directly towards her revealed his intentions perfectly, and Gina wasted no time opening fire on him. He cursed loudly in surprise, dropping to the ground and rolling behind a tall stand of ferns.

"Bitch! What was that for?"

"It's what we're here for, dumbass!" Gina called back gleefully, happy to have an excuse to shoot any kind of gun at him, even if it wasn't lethal.

"No, you're here to suck my—ah!"

Gina had spotted his black glasses standing out loudly between the much lighter ferns and opened fire. A hail of paintball pellets arced over his position, raining down on him in a pastel shower. One lucky shot smeared his glasses and another added a bold stain of blue on his dirty red beater before he could roll away. Gina pursued, suddenly unmindful of the flag or anything else. She had only one intent, and that was to paint that pervert one solid color before this game was through.

They darted between trees and behind bushes, trading ample amounts of pellets and hostilities, ignorant to the fact that John, who was counting on Duke's ability to distract the enemy's primary defender, had taken the blue flag. He was hurrying along back to his own red flag some distance away, staying crouched low and constantly vigilant of the ground around him. He rose over a low high, leaped over a shallow embankment and dodged a fallen branch, growing more and more confident that both his enemy and teammate were completely distracted so far behind. His victory was assured.

He rushed around the base of the tree near his flag and came suddenly to a dead halt. His red flag was missing. He grew suddenly nervous as he stood there with his paintball gun in one hand and the enemy flag waving prominently in the other. It might not be long until the others notice its disappearance. But where could his have gone?

He scoured the area around where the red flag had been, checking low under all the nearby bushes and circling every tree within thirty yards. Growing more and more frustrated, he looked back across the playing field. From the sounds of it, his own teammate and his enemy were still locked in their own private battle, having forgotten the game utterly. So if they did not have his flag, then that would leave the only remaining player in this game—the elf. But he was nowhere in sight.

John was calculating how much time had progressed since he last saw his own flag and how far Corvus might have made it with his flag in that amount of time. He was debating which route to take to double back through the woods when Corvus himself, red flag in hand, leapt down from a high branch and knocked John flat on his stomach. The blue flag landed awkwardly beneath him, jamming his arm between the metal pole and his own body weight. He cried out in surprise and a momentary burst of pain coming from his twisted arm. His paintball gun flew into the dirt two meters away.

Corvus jumped back onto his feet and twirled his flag pole before him like a baton before shoving the end of it down into the small of John's back, pinning him to the ground.

"Ow!" John cried out again. He twisted his head around to fix Corvus with a stern look. "What's the big idea? I thought this was a paintball match."

"The meaning of this contest is unclear to me," Corvus admitted. "But this weapon is far more efficient than the strange ones we were given."

"But that's our flag!" John protested. "It's not supposed to be a weapon at all."

"Is it not?" Corvus asked, looking curiously at the metal shaft which held the red flag that draped over John's body like a curtain.

"No," John assured him. "Those are supposed to be our weapons." He gestured to his paintball gun far out of reach. "There."

Corvus followed his gaze with a disapproving stare. "Those weapons are clumsy and inefficient."

"But they shoot so you can protect yourself from a distance."

"It did not protect you."

John opened his mouth to protest, chewed over Corvus' statement a moment, then closed it again. At length, he shrugged. "Guess I can't argue that. Well, now that you have me pinned here, what are you going to do? Take both flags back and capture them?"

"How do you mean, 'capture' them?" Corvus questioned, his head cocked to one side. "Do I not already have them captured, and you along with them?"

"Well, no, not technically. It's not considered a capture until you take both flags back to where yours was standing."

"Why? I have them both here."

"Because that's the rules!" John blurt out, exasperated. The end of the flag pole was beginning to dig painfully into his back. "You have to follow the rules in order to win."

"I have no intention of winning," Corvus admitted easily. "I intend only to impress our captors so they might grant me passage back into my world so I might continue my quest to save my people."

"But our captors are impressed by you winning," John countered quickly. It was Corvus' turn to think about his response.

"No," he said at length. "I have you. I have both colored items. My ally is preventing yours from assisting you. It is already clear that we have won this battle, so I'll be able to return to my people once more."

"I don't think it works that way," John replied. "Colonel Jax isn't going to whisk you away back to your home just because you won at capture the flag. It's not going to be that easy."

"Likely so," Corvus replied solemnly. "But if there is even any slim chance of my swift return, I must take it."

"I see." John sighed as best he could with a sharp flag pole pinning him to the dirt. "I respect that you're in such a hurry to get back home to finish your noble quest. But me, personally, I wouldn't mind sticking around here for a little while. I still don't really know what this place is for sure, but I like it better than where I was before."

"You must not be on any type of quest to save your own people, then," Corvus reasoned. "How fortunate."

"Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly..." John hesitated. "Let's just say that I'm pretty sure I was too late, anyway."

"Then you had given up?" Corvus accused, his voice suddenly sharp.

"No, no, nothing like that. I just... lost faith. In my own quest."

Corvus grunted, nodding his head slowly in understanding. He said nothing beyond that, though.

It wasn't long after that that the flags dematerialized right out of their hands and the playing field was reset. This time Gina and Duke were paired together. They spent the entire round shooting their rounds at each other, allowing John and Corvus to easily sneak up to their flag and steal it. That round ended quickly, and the next soon began afterward.

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

"Alright, assholes, listen up!" Colonel Jax greeted each of them in his customary manner. "You're in a live firing range. It's time to see if you monkeys can figure out which end to point forward."

Each of Colonel Jax's latest test subjects were lined up in front of an outdoor range that extended out to a distant tree line. In the distance were lined up five painted targets. It was only one more of his many training simulations. Resting on the tables before each of the five recruits were handguns and ammunition clips.

She couldn't speak for the others, but Gina was beginning to feel unsettled by all of these instantaneous transitions. Only a moment ago she was doing her best to cover that asshole Duke in paint in the middle of what felt like a woods. Then without any warning, she found herself standing on a grassy firing range with that bastard Colonel Jax barking orders at them once again. There was no transition between them. It was like she was flipping through a series of bad dreams.

Worse yet, while the scene around them changed, her wardrobe remained dirty, mud-streaked, and smeared with both blue and red paint. Duke looked like vomit from a child's painting. But why did neither John or Corvus have a single fleck of paint on them? What had they been doing during the last round?

Colonel Asshole was instructing them to pick up and load their weapons. Gina put aside her idle pondering and approached the table before her. The handgun was light in her hands, like cheap plastic, and bore no identifying markings anywhere on it. It looked starkly generic, almost fake, like a child's toy.

"Is this thing even real?" Gina mused. "I feel like I could squeeze too hard and break it."

"Real enough to put a hole in your head to let the sunshine through," Colonel Jax retorted sharply. "Now load the damn thing and shoot your targets."

Gina shoved the clip into the handle and cocked the weapon. She stood at the end of the line, which meant she needed only to take a sidelong glance to her left to see the others. Next to her, John had the weapon pointed upwards and was studying its design in detail. The overly-simplistic design of the firearm had no doubt caught his attention and she wasn't at all surprised to see him studying the thing so intently rather than shooting it. On the other side of him stood the very colorful Duke, who had pistol loaded and ready, sighting it down the field. He happened to glance down at her, just as she was looking at him. Their gaze met briefly. He grinned maliciously, then pointed the firearm directly at her and pulled the trigger before she could react.

The gun clicked uselessly in his hand. A moment later came a loud zap of electricity followed by shouts of pain.

"The point of a team, you useless maggots, is to learn how to work together, and not try to shoot each other every chance you get!" Colonel Jax yelled angrily, the electric prod still sizzling in his hand.

"I'm not working in any goddamn team!"

Duke's defiant outburst was cut short by another stab of high voltage from Colonel Jax's prod. Duke crumpled to the ground, sweating and gasping for air.

"Some mules learn harder than others," Colonel Jax assessed coldly. "The stupid ones just need to be beaten more. They learn eventually."

Gina felt a sudden sharp stab of pity for Duke, seeing him down on his hands and knees and laboring for each breath he took. She wondered just how much voltage was in one of those prods to make him hurt so much.

But then she quickly remembered that Duke was a sexist, egotistical bastard and shoved the thought from her mind.

"What are you waiting for?" Colonel Jax yelled. "Shoot the targets!"

They did as ordered. Gina raised her pistol and started firing immediately, trying to shove all thoughts from her mind. She just emptied the clip, feeling the recoil in her hand, trying to take out her aggression on her target down the field. When the clip emptied, she just ejected it, shoved in a fresh one and kept firing. She imagined that the cardboard cutout she was filling with holes had Colonel Jax's face on it. Or Duke's face. She couldn't believe that asshole actually tried to kill her! She'd love to shove her fist down that bastard's throat and give him another kick to the balls just for good measure.

Further down the line, the others were firing as well. Duke was picking himself up, slowly and painfully, to retrieve his firearm and start shooting. John was shooting as well, but his bullets were missing the mark by miles. His target had only been hit a few times, and even those were far from the painted circles. Ranger had rejoined them, firing from the opposite end of the line. He simply stood there firing and reloading, firing and reloading, so much like a machine that it was a little unnerving. And just as unnerving was the deadly accuracy of his shots. And Corvus, stuck in the middle of the line, wasn't sure of what to do at all. It was him that Colonel Jax approached first.

"You seem confused, tree-hugger." He voice was deadly calm, and void of any surprise. "Can't figure out which end to point forward?"

"The weaponry of this world is so strange to me," Corvus answered earnestly. "Why does your kind use mechanical devices to shoot tiny projectiles at each other?"

"Because we got tired of throwing the guns at each other, so we decided to make them shoot."

"And why are we shooting a representation of a person?" Corvus persisted. "Is this to imply that we'll be killing others like us? What did they do to deserve such treatment?"

"If your mouth shot bullets instead of talking, you'd have killed an entire army by now."

Corvus thought that over, perplexed. Colonel Jax didn't give him the opportunity to reply before moving on. He noticed that Duke had already recovered from two shots of voltage from his prod and was lighting up the target. He was actually impressed. Anyone who could take that kind of abuse and still keep fighting would be useful as a soldier. He'd just have a tough time house-training the bastard to sit and stay like a good bitch. But once he was finally broken, Colonel Jax saw good potential there.

And then he walked up to John. He stood there, firing every once in a while, holding his weapon gingerly like it was going to explode in his hands. And his bullets were going everywhere but forward.

Colonel Jax was about to write him off as a useless idiot... until he noticed something.

The electric prod burst to life in his hand and he drove it hard into John's spine. He shrieked in surprise, his gun flying from his hand as his body fell to the ground writhing in pain.

What Colonel Jax hadn't anticipated was a hard fist coming out of nowhere drilling him hard on the side of his jaw. He recoiled, staggering back, and rubbed his aching chin. With fire burning in his eyes, he looked up to see Gina standing there before him, fists clenched and adrenaline pumping. She was breathing hard and heavy and had a crazed look to her. She looked ready to beat him to a pulp.

His guards launched forward and retained her, but she looked ready to rip their heads off along with his. Curious. Colonel Jax regained his composure, standing at his full height, and approached Gina. All of the others, except Ranger, had stopped firing and turned to look.

Colonel Jax deactivated the prod and whipped her hard across the face with it, carving a line into her cheek that beaded with blood. The blow didn't do a thing to extinguish her sudden rage.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Gina raged. Everyone knew she wasn't referring to herself getting whipped. "He wasn't doing anything to you!"

"He was acting like an idiot," Colonel Jax replied, turning to John. He was standing back up slowly, holding his back and looking at each of them with a bewildered look. In the background, Ranger was reloading.

"And not an idiot like him," Colonel Jax thumbed towards Corvus. "A genuine idiot who couldn't wipe his own ass with a map. No, you were pretending to be an idiot, which is far worse. He's the real thing—you're not."

"What are you talking about?" John replied, confused.

"Stop acting like an idiot and pretending that you don't know what's going on!" Colonel Jax roared, threatening John with his prod once again. "If you keep up this stupid act of yours, virgin boy, I'll kill you myself! Now, pick up that weapon and shoot the target!"

"But he was doing that when you,"

Another quick strike across her face brought her lips to a halt. The bitch had spunk, but she was really starting to irritate him. "Shoot the target!" Colonel Jax demanded.

Hesitantly, John picked up the weapon from the ground. He looked down at it with a peculiar look, a look of remorse and sorrow, like seeing it reminded him of something terrible from his past. And then he pointed it forward and fired. The shot sailed well over the target. Colonel Jax clipped him hard on the back of his head with his open hand.

"Don't shoot at the target... shoot the target!"

John hesitated once more. All eyes were on him. He looked around him, seeing the anger in the Colonel's face, seeing the blood bead down and drip from Gina's chin, seeing the look of intensity on her face: her gaze held a stark desperation that startled him. He wondered about her, briefly, then turned back to the target. The targets around him were riddled with holes while his own was almost without a single puncture. He swallowed once more, closed his eyes a brief moment, then lifted his gun, sighted, and fired.

The bullet punctured the target square in the chest. The bullet blasted away the X in the very center of the red bulls-eye.

"Again."

John lined up the shot and squeezed the trigger. The report echoed in their ears as the second bullet flew through the impact hole left by the first, nicking the side of it only slightly.

"Again."

The third shot blasted away the X in the center of the bulls-eye on the target's head.

Colonel Jax grunted, satisfied. He clapped John on the shoulder. "Now keep shooting like that."

He stepped away, leaving John to continue firing, except that this time he was tearing holes into each bulls-eye instead of shooting wildly. He approached Gina, still restrained by his guards, to see the look of naked bewilderment on her face. She turned to him, eyes wide and jaw slightly ajar.

"How did you know?" were the first words from her lips.

Colonel Jax signaled to his guards to release her. Her wrathful fit had long-since past. She was no longer a threat.

"I'm not as much of an idiot as you may think," was his simple reply. "Now, back in line and keep shooting."

Gina submitted. Colonel Jax stood back, looking at each of the test subjects given to him. Assessing them. Four of the five targets were dotted with lethal holes in their chest and heads. Colonel Jax was amazed that they were not only operating the weapons with trained expertise, but also shooting with notable accuracy. Perhaps Mr. Vance wasn't completely full of shit for sending these guys.

Of course, there was still the tree-humper. He seemed to have given up on the firearm all together. Yelling and beating wouldn't work with him like it would the others. Colonel Jax would have to find some other carrot to get that turtle to do what he wanted. And for that he'd have to contact Mr. Vance again.

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

Leaving his guards to babysit for a little while, Colonel Jax stepped away from the firing line and thumbed the radio on his jacket.

"Mr. Vance, I need a word with you."

The radio hung silent a moment while a barrage of bullets echoed in the background. And then, in a crackled voice coming from the two-way radio: "Yeah, I'm here. What do you want?"

"I have a matter to speak to you about concerning your latest batch of recruits."

"Yeah, I had told that dumbass nephew of mine to find some fodder to send to your little games," Mr. Vance began. "I was smacking him around a little earlier today. Turns out that those useless recruits he sent you were from some goddamn video games, or some shit like that. First comic books, and now joysticks. I swear that little bastard is going to die a virgin. He sure as hell didn't get that from my side. It's his mother's fault."

"Mr. Vance," Colonel Jax barked sternly. He couldn't possibly have cared less about the fat bastard's life story. "Mr. Vance! I don't give a damn where they're from. I just had a question about one of them."

"Yeah, so we're getting ready to send you five more meat bags," Mr. Vance continued, heedless to Colonel Jax's statement. "Just send those useless ones back and we'll replace them with generic soldiers you can program however you like."

"That won't be necessary." Colonel Jax replied.

"What do you mean? You said they were useless, so we're prepared to take those five back, destroy them, and replace them with five new ones as per your request."

"I didn't say they were useless, you idiot, I said they were dumb as shit. But never mind that now. I have a question about one of them!"

"So you don't want those models replaced?" asked Mr. Vance through the crackling of the radio.

"Hold off on that for now," Colonel Jax replied. "That shouldn't be necessary."

"Alright, well, why the hell are you calling me, then?"

"I'm radioing you because I have a question about one of them!"

"Then why didn't you just say so?"

Colonel Jax was fairly certain that, were they speaking in person, he would have strangled this Mr. Vance right then and there.

"Mr. Vance, one of them in particular is having problems adjusting to,"

"Hang on a second," Mr. Vance interrupted.

Colonel Jax growled in frustration, grinding his teeth together. This fucker over the radio was pissing him off more then his five latest acquisitions. Who did he think he was talking to?

A long moment later, Mr. Vance's deep bear-like voice returned over the radio, and this time it was accompanied by a high-pitch whine that spoke in words.

"I got my nephew here with me," Mr. Vance explained.

"Hi!" said the high-pitch whine. He sounded like he was fresh out of diapers and just into kindergarten.

"He's the one who's responsible for those bastards in your possession," Mr. Vance explained. "He can answer any of your questions about them."

"Very well," Colonel Jax replied. "One of the new recruits is having problems adjusting,"

"Call me Steve!" squeaked the droning voice. Then it added: "this is so cool!"

Which was immediately followed by Mr. Vance's grinding voice yelling at the other one telling him to not be such a useless prick. Colonel Jax couldn't decide which one was more irritating. It had never been more apparent that they were related, and much more closely than Mr. Vance might prefer.

"Shut the hell up and listen for a second!" Colonel Jax yelled, his patience exhausted.

Both voices silenced.

"One of the new recruits is having problems adjusting to our weaponry," Colonel Jax explained. "He acts like he's never seen a gun before. I can't get any use out of him."

"Which one is it?" squealed Steve, the nephew.

"The hippie-looking, tree-humping faggot of a man. Some kind of shirtless elven bastard, or whatever-the-fuck he is."

"Oh, you mean Corvus!"

"Sure. Whatever."

"Heretic to the Serpent Riders. Savior of the people of Silvermoon. Vanquisher of the great,"

"Shut the hell up!" Colonel Jax raged. "I don't give a rat's ass who he is or where he's from. How do I get him to not be such a useless bitch?"

"Well, he's not going to know anything about our modern weaponry," Steve explained. "He's not used to fighting our kind of wars."

"What the hell is he good for, then?"

"Well, he's done his share of fighting. He's seen probably just as much combat as everyone else you have there."

"How could that be possible? He's as vicious as a house cat."

"Like I said, he's not used to fighting our kind of wars," Steve explained. "His battles were against mighty, fictitious creatures using his own personal weapons: a staff, a longbow, and a leather pouch."

"Fictitious? What does that mean, exactly?" Colonel Jax questioned, suspicious. "Fairies and gnomes and magic dragons—shit like that?"

"Similar," Steve replied. "But not exactly."

Colonel Jax sighed. This tree-humper was going to be nothing but a real pain in the ass for him.

Mr. Vance's ugly voice dominated the radio once again. "If that recruit is a problem, then we'll take him back, destroy him, and send you a new one—one that actually knows how to use a real weapon."

Colonel Jax considered it a moment. It would make his life easier, he was sure of that.

"No, not yet," Colonel Jax replied at length. "Give me a few days with him, then we'll see. In the meantime, send me the coordinates to his Dreamscape. He didn't come here with any of that gear, so I presume it was all left behind?"

"We don't keep any of their personal belongings here," Mr. Vance was quick to explain.

"Right. I'll just go get it myself, then. If that fucker can't use a gun, then maybe he'll be more useful with his own weapons. Over and out."

"Good luck with that."

Colonel Jax sighed again, releasing the radio on his jacket. He turned back to the firing line, watching four recruits fill cardboard cutouts with holes and a fifth recruit standing there with a thumb up his ass. He hoped this upcoming field trip would be worth it.

If a tree-humping hippie like him could survive in his world, how bad could it really be?

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

"Why did you lie?" Gina posed. She sat perched on the edge of the concrete slab that served as their luxury couches from within their prison suite. Complimentary room service was being delivered on metal trays and consisted of the kitchen's finest: a tin of water, a chunk of bread, cold meat and apple sauce. Five trays were being passed through the bars as she spoke to John.

"I didn't." John was swirling the contents of his cup, studying it intently. Gina wondered what if anything he learned from looking at random shit like that.

Corvus had volunteered to accept the trays from the guards, and was passing Gina hers. She accepted it then studied her own water. It looked like water. She tasted it: very watery.

"You did," Gina replied offhandedly, poking at her bread. "You weren't hitting the broad side of the barn until Colonel Asshole talked to you."

John spooned through his apple sauce. Seems like an odd side to be served in a jail cell. Corvus passed out the last of the trays, thanked the guards, than sat on the cold floor and began to eat. Ranger was sitting prone in one of the corners, facing away from everyone, not saying a word to anyone, and was eating vehemently as if they were going to take his rations away in thirty seconds.

Duke was finger-painting a smiley face on his bread using his apple sauce before washing it away by pouring water over it.

"You shouldn't waste that," Corvus observed companionably. "You don't know the next time they'll feed us."

"Goddamn hippies," Duke muttered. His finger-painted did not cease.

"The Colonel is forcing us to fight for him against our will," John replied coolly. "I was simply trying to fight back."

The entire time he spoke, John's gaze was downcast, and his head hanging low. He was eating his rations mechanically—without any interest or feeling. To Gina, he looked positively morose. He looked defeated.

"What's your deal, anyway?" Gina persisted. "You don't like guns or something? I seen the way you looked at those pistols—like the damn thing was gonna come alive and bite you."

"I just don't like fighting is all."

"Bullshit!" Gina replied. "That's bullshit. None of us like fighting—except maybe the asshole with the haircut. And the strange soldier guy that never talks."

Duke flipped Gina the finger without ever turning away from his meal. Ranger made no reaction.

"So at least half of us don't like fighting, at any rate," Gina admitted, somewhat sheepishly. "Nevermind, that doesn't matter. You're a hell of a shot—better than I am, even. You don't learn that from sitting around playing chess and watching the Discovery channel. Who trained you to shoot like that?"

"Duck Hunt."

"Don't give me that crap," Gina demanded, exasperated. "Seriously, what were you doing before you came here? Who were you fighting for? You look like a soldier. You shoot like a soldier. And you're wearing combat armor that I've never seen before. So? How about it? What's your story?"

John set his tray down on his lap. He sat upright, stared up at the ceiling a moment, then turned toward Gina. "I wasn't doing anything when I got abducted. I was sitting at home reading."

"You told me you were watching T.V. before," Gina remarked.

"I was reading in front of T.V."

"Goddamn it, John!" Gina yelled. "What the hell is so important that you have to be an asshole about it?"

"It's nothing."

"Fine. Whatever." Gina leaned back against the prison wall and folded her arms across her chest. "Don't tell me. I don't give a fuck. God, I'm surrounded by asshole men!"

John said nothing, but turned back to his meal. Eventually, so too did Gina.

They ate in silence. Just as he had handed the trays out, Corvus also collected them and set them in front of the cell for collection. No one spoke, and the silence was growing oppressive and thick. Gina was getting fidgety. As much as she didn't like her company, she liked the silence even less. John was repressed somewhere within his own thoughts—he had that thousand yard stare going on. No doubt he was thinking about what he was doing before he arrived here, that selfish bastard. Ranger was in the corner, sitting there like a damn statue, not moving, not even breathing from what she could tell. What the hell was his deal, anyway? Too good to talk to the rest of us? And then there was Duke, and she sure as hell wasn't going to talk to that prick. So that only left one...

"Tell me about yourself."

Corvus looked up from his thoughts, surprised to be addressed specifically. He looked over at Gina. "I've already told everyone my story. I am the chosen of my people at Silvermoon to lift their curse and slay the evil Serpent Rider."

"Yes, yes, you told us that. But there must be more to you than that. Tell me about yourself."

"I..." Corvus hesitated a moment, uncertain. "I don't know what to say."

"Tell me about Silvermoon, then."

"Ah, it is a grand city, with houses for thousands and a sprawling capital. The city is punctuated with grand high rises and graceful architecture. We have an amazing library, full of tomes and arcane knowledge, and a public forum where we discuss the matters of the city. And our market is vast and full of fish and fruits from across the land. Or, at least it was."

"Before the curse?" Gina reasoned.

Corvus nodded. "Our grains withered and died, our fruit rotted, and our water blackened. My people were quickly succumbing to the Serpent Rider's disease. They turned pale like a corpse and were driven mad with blood-lust. They lost their wits. They turned their weapons against each other, killing men, women, and children alike. Those of us not affected by this plague were hunted by them and cooked like animals to be eaten.

"That's..." Gina was lost for words. The image was horrifying beyond what she could have imagined. "God, that's horrible. I'm sorry. I really am. That's just terrible."

Corvus nodded, looking very somber. "Indeed. I thank you for you concern. We hid the village elders away, and they appointed me to hunt down the Serpent Rider and slay him, lifting the curse upon our people. But the Rider had called forth creatures from beyond the gates of the afterlife, bending the spirits of my people against their will even after their life had ended. The undead army ravaged our city while they attempted to hunt me down and kill me. When that did not work, he summoned creatures from the fiery lakes of Gehenna to harvest my soul for the afterlife. Eventually, he ordered his army of cultists and serpentine magicians to stop me. I kept pushing onward, mindful that the elders could at any moment be discovered, and my journey be in vain. But now that my quest can no longer be pursued, I fear I may already be too late for my people. I have failed them."

"But that's hardly your fault!" Gina reasoned. "Colonel Asshole is the one who stole you away from your quest and stuck you here with the rest of us."

"As true as that is, it does little good to know that it 'wasn't my fault' when the elders, and the rest of my race, were left to be slaughtered at the hands of the Serpent Rider and his minions. They can not hear my apologies if they are dead."

"Well... yea, alright, nevermind then." Gina was feeling sorry she ever struck up this conversation at all. Corvus was one depressing son-of-a-bitch.

"I imagine by now that the streets of Silvermoon are overrun with beasts, and that the forests and wilderness of my world are being consumed by demons and the undead. I pity anyone left alive in that place now."

Gina nodded, but said nothing. She was afraid to say another word lest she hear even more depressing stories from the others. No wonder nobody was talking to anyone else in here.

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

Rifle held at the ready, Colonel Jax shifted the pack of ammunition slung over his arm and looked around. Above him rose a vast dome constructed of what appeared to be glass—glass which was holding out the ocean above. And judging from the waterfalls pouring in from various cracks in the dome, it wouldn't be there for much longer. Before him, leading into the center of the dome, was a grand temple covered in tiled mosaics depicting various images. The ground beneath his feet was covered in large slabs of stone, painted blue. The paint was fading, chipping away from the rock, and the slabs rose and fell unevenly as vegetation shoved its way through cracks. The sound of rushing water echoed everywhere, and the stone slabs he stood upon were slick with moisture. The air was chilled, no doubt from the cool ocean water pouring in all around him.

Around him, beyond the reach of the temple's base, the ocean water had collected into its own lake, turning the temple into an island in the middle of a bubble. The water level was rising by the second.

Colonel Jax squinted up the stairs that led to the temple's interior. From beyond its walls, over top the sound of gushing water, he heard the distant rattling of what sounded like rattlesnakes. Beneath that, as quiet as a whisper from where he stood, droned the murmuring of dozens of deep voices.

Steeling himself, Colonel Jax hefted his rifle and charged right up the stairs, shoving his way into the temple doors and lighting up everything in his path. His rifle barrel blazed to life as he saw the impossible: inside was an enormous complex, full of winding corridors, and each of them populated with insanity. Cultists in dark robes floated—not walked, but flew in the air—towards him, shooting not bullets or spears but glowing spheres of energy that charred the air around them. They were like bubbles of electricity that flew directly at him, ignoring gravity completely. Then beyond those freaks were six-foot tall snakes with arms, dressed in full body armor, standing upright on their tails and wielding sticks that shitted out a light show from their pointy ends. Past those weird mother-fuckers were eight-foot tall beasts with thick brown hides that wielded foot-long claws and belched fire. They were accompanied by skinny fuckers with tails and circular blades for hands that made the most god awful racket when they opened their ugly little mouths.

For all of their fucked up appearances and laser light shows, not one of them understood that flashy lights and sharp objects did not stand up well to a thirty-round-per-second semi-automatic machine-gun. It was literally like bringing a gun to a knife fight. Colonel Jax needed only keep his distance and blast these ugly fuckers back to hell.

With a path of nightmarish bodies left behind, each of them left to rot in a pool of their own blood, Colonel Jax soon came to the temple's courtyard, high above the rest of the complex. Once there he saw, lying heaped in the center of the room, a staff, a bow, a pouch, and a book. Curious, he slung the rifle over his shoulder and approached the pile. Mr. Vance's nephew didn't say anything about a book.

Littered beside and around these items were the bodies of more cultists and serpentine guards alike—along with the corpse of one very large, very nasty looking green serpent. In many ways it resembled what he considered to be the typical image of a dragon, except without any wings.

As he knelt before the items he sought after, a bellowing voice echoed throughout the chamber.

"Ah, ha! You have returned!"

Colonel Jax pulled his rifle back down, holding it out before him as he looked around. The room was large, with the walls rising up and opening to give a view of the fractured dome above. More mosaics depicting the creatures he had encountered, and a man in robes, were tiled into the walls.

Standing up on a ledge some ten feet above him, Colonel Jax saw the man who was depicted in the mosaics. His robes were long and dark, covering his entire frame, with a thick hood that obscured the features of his face.

"The mighty Corvus, hero of the people of Silvermoon, has come again to try and take the life of the mighty Serpent Rider and save his people from certain doom!"

"I'm not the tree-humper, dumbass," Colonel Jax said bluntly. The Rider seemed to not hear him.

"Though you may have slain my Serpent in our last battle, you'll find that I am not vanquished so easily! Prepare yourself, Corvus of Silvermoon, for I will show you no mercy!"

"I'm not the goddamned tree-humping, hemp-smoking hippie, you stupid son-of-a-bitch!"

"Pleading for your life will do you no good, Corvus!" cried the Rider as he ascended into the air and floated slowly down to the ground where Colonel Jax stood.

"You're not listening to a thing I'm saying, are you?"

"The time for words is over!" The Rider threw his hands into the air as he landed. His hood slipped back on his head, revealing the tell-tale pale skin and pointy ears. Colonel Jax saw this and knew what he was instantly.

"Aw, god damn it, you're just another tree-humper, too. Jesus Christ, there's more than one of you?"

Glowing energy was building in the Rider's outstretched hands. Electricity crackled from his fingertips as a vicious smile spread across his face. He began to laugh maniacally as Colonel Jax lifted his rifle up to his shoulder, looking through the sights. He started forward, closing the gap between himself and the Rider.

"Time to meet your maker, Corvus of Silvermoon!"

"Time to cut your hair and get a job!"

The Rider thrust his hands forward, preparing to launch a volley of energy directly at Colonel Jax, when the barrel of his rifle pointed up at his head and fired twice. The Rider collapsed backwards upon the stone slabs, blood pouring from the head of the corpse.

Colonel Jax shouldered his weapon, looking down at the body of the man he has just killed. He grunted, a gesture that could have meant anything, then turned around and started gathering up the pile of gear. Suddenly the sound of an immense explosion tore through the air. The ground shook violently beneath him, the walls of the temple collapsed around him, and across the dome overhead spread enormous cracks like a spider's web. Then a moment later, it collapsed completely—enormous shards of glass and a million gallons of water flooded down from what used to be the ceiling.

Without a moment to think, Colonel Jax yanked the Translocator from his pocket with one hand as he gathered up the gear, book included, with his other. He punched the button for his home coordinates on the cellular phone-looking device and a Nexus gateway opened up immediately before him. He leapt through it just as the water smashed down onto the shattered floor of the temple where he had just stood. The gateway fizzled and collapsed in the water just behind him.

II II II II II II II II II II II II II II

"I got your shit," Colonel Jax announced suddenly. Unceremoniously he dumped Corvus's retrieved belongings onto the concrete floor.

Colonel Jax's simulation technicians had this time planted all of them inside a concrete bunker high up in the mountains. From outside the open windows, snow glistened on the ground and coated the trees. The bunker itself was nothing but a single room, sunk into the ground with only a single entrance. Long, narrow windows lined each side.

At the very center of the room was a single concrete slab with a selection of weaponry resting upon it. It was around there that they had been gathered.

Corvus rushed to the pile, kneeling down quickly to look through his belongings. He placed his hands upon each item, just feeling them as if in disbelief that they still existed. His eyes went from one item to the next, his face alight with surprise and relief.

He came upon the tome last, hidden under the rest of it. It was black with a gray skull adorning the front of it and was locked with a black leather band. He looked at it reverently, taking longer with it than he had the pouch, bow, or staff.

"You gonna ask it out on a date or what?" Colonel Jax jeered after a moment of watching the tree-humper's exaggerated reunion.

"This tome," Corvus tried to explain, his voice full of emotion. His eyes were welling up as he looked down at it. He ran a loving hand over the surface, tracing out the contours of the skull shaped out upon the cover of the book. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"It's a damn book. You gonna stand there and have sex with it, or what?"

To everyone's shock and amazement, no one less so than the Colonel himself, Corvus leapt forward and locked the heartless man in a tight and emotional embrace.

"Thank you, thank you!"

"Aw, Jesus Christ, get the hell off me you stupid tree-humper!"

Colonel Jax shoved the elf away, with some effort, and promptly brushed himself off trying not to look flustered. Gina grinned inwardly, imagining how awkward that must have been to be hugged my the man he undoubtedly hated the most of all of them. That was a memory she would keep forever, even after she escaped from this damn place and tried to forget the rest.

"I thought these had been lost forever!" exclaimed Corvus. "With these, I can return back to my world and continue my quest! You have given me hope for Silvermoon where I had all but given up. I truly thank you!"

"Now hang on there just a minute, slugger," Colonel Jax replied. "I just played your little errand boy so I could go get your toys from home so you wouldn't be such a worthless bitch-ass. Now that you have your little security blanket and your little stick, maybe you could show me why you're not such a useless little piss-ant?"

The light dimmed from Corvus's face as he looked suddenly dismal. "You mean, I will not be returning to my world to save my people, then?"

"They're not your concern anymore, chosen one. Now show me what the hell I went to your Dreamscape to fetch. What's your little bow and walking stick and man-purse do?"

Corvus knelt down once more over his belongings, putting each on one-by-one. The bow he slung over to hang on his back, the pouch belted onto the side of his hip, and his stick he carried in his right arm. The book he picked up, holding it gingerly and reverently like it was the spittoon of Jesus Christ himself, and placed it on the concrete slab next to the other weaponry.

"These... are my weapons. These are the items I chose to battle the Serpent Rider and his minions."

"A walking stick, a pouch of dirt, and a bow with no arrows," Colonel Jax replied skeptically. "And a book. What are you gonna do, read them a bed-time story? I'm waiting to be blown away here."

"They are more effective than you may believe."

"I sure as fuck hope so. Anyway, as for the rest of you assholes, I got you some weaponry a little more suited to your personalities. Dig in, boys and girls!"

Pulling away a thin sheet, Colonel Jax revealed a selection of firearms each far more potent than the plastic pistols they were handling before. Duke stepped up first, eager to claim the weapon that was clearly designed to be his: a large, cylindrical machine of a gun designed to spew out rocket-propelled grenades. Left on the slab was a long-barreled sniper rifle, a dull yellow tube hollowed out with an enormous ejection hole, and a strange weapon with two different barrels, each of them rectangular in design instead of round.

When the remaining three didn't step forward to claim their weapons, Colonel Jax stepped forward to make it a little more obvious.

"Virgin boy!" Colonel Jax said. He lifted the sniper rifle and threw it at him. "Catch!"

John held the weapon upright, turning it in the light as was his way.

"This type of weapon isn't what I'm used to."

"Cry about it. Bitch!"

"You're not a big believer in names, are you?" Gina remarked crossly.

"Too hard to remember. Catch!"

Colonel Jax lobbed her the faded yellow cylindrical tube. She caught it, looking as confused as John. She spent a quick moment studying as intently as John studied everything he saw.

"I don't even know what to do with this damn thing," she admitted flatly.

"Figure it out. Your ammo is down here. Load it up."

To her amazement, Colonel Jax tossed her a gray shell as big as her fist. She only just caught it awkwardly in her other hand. "My god, these things are huge!"

"All the women tell me that," Colonel Jax replied, the serious tone of his voice never once fading. It took her a moment of thinking back on it to even figure out it was a joke.

"That just leaves you, soldier boy!"

Obediently and quietly, Ranger gathered the offered weapon and stood there, straight-backed and looking directly forward. The son-of-a-bitch actually saluted.

"Thank you, sir!"

"What the hell are you thanking him, for?" Gina asked harshly. "You don't even know what that thing is, do you?"

"Oh, it's just your average double-barrel rapid fire nail-gun is all," Colonel Jax answered smugly. "Don't you recognize one?"

"A double-barrel what? Nail-gun? Are we putting together a house?"

"Not exactly. So now that everyone has their shiny new birthday presents, I want to see them be put to good use. Your objective is simple: people will be coming down the hills to kill you. You win by not letting them kill you. Any questions?"

"When's snack time?"

Colonel Jax ignored her. "Be back soon. Have fun!"

And then he was gone, dematerialized just as quickly as when each of them get transported from place to place. They were alone, the five of them: in a concrete bunker surrounded by a forest in the winter.

Just as soon as he was gone, Duke and Gina pointed their firearms at each other.

"Mine's loaded. And I know what the hell it's used for," Duke observed, his voice aggravatingly suave.

"Well, I don't know what mine is or how it works, but I'm sure it could kill you somehow."

"As much fun as you two have doing that, we may have other concerns at the moment," John pointed out politely. He was sighting down his scope and listening to the faint but growing sounds of approaching engines. In the distance, through the trees he could see snowmobiles approaching.

From another direction, the tell-tale woop-woop-woop of a different motor appeared, this one from the air. And from the sounds of it, there were quite a few.

Despairingly, Gina gave Duke a final look then tipped her weapon to the roof.

"I'll be the bigger man here."

"Kill you next time," Duke conceded.

Ranger was already at one of the windows, kneeling and sighting his... nail-gun... out at the snow-covered trees. Gina decided that this occasion called for her falling in line, and she took the example of the mechanical 'soldier boy.' He appeared to be the only know who knew what was going on. Or that was just an illusion created by his mindless obedience and utter silence.

With a moment's tinkering, Gina popped the enormous shell into the barrel of her weapon and pointed the business end forward. Such is why from behind her she didn't see both Duke and Corvus march right on outside the bunker.

"Hey! Where are you two, going?" John called after him from where he was perched with his sniper rifle.

"If indeed we must battle, then I choose to battle from a safer place," explained Corvus as he walked up the concrete ramp and stepped out onto the snow.

Behind him, Duke just shrugged. "What he said."

"This is a concrete bunker!" John replied exasperated. "How much safer can it be out there?"

But they were already outside. John watched as Duke carried his meaty firearm and climbed up onto the very top of the bunker, where God and the entire world could see him to shoot him down.

Corvus, in the meantime, had disappeared amongst the trees.

"Those guys are crazy," John muttered under his breath before re-sighting his rifle.

He watched the approaching snowmobiles off in the distance kicking up a storm of snow in their wake. They swerved from between the trees, the men wearing thick goggles and white and gray snow camouflage.

He sighted and fired, aiming at the machines they rode upon instead of the people themselves. One after another his rounds echoed through the small bunker as he systematically disabled the machines they rode upon. After six shots he ran to the concrete slab at the center of the room, reloaded, and grabbed a handful of boxes to bring back with him to his perch.

From atop the bunker, standing amongst the snow in his heavy boots and contrasting the background starkly in his blue jeans and red beater, Duke raised his weapon to the oncoming helicopters and fired. A satisfactory recoil kicked back at him as a guided missile flew from the rocket launcher and sailed straight and true toward the helicopter, destroying it in a spectacular show of explosions and flying debris.

Smiling like a fiend, Duke fed his machine another round and quickly fired it off. "Now this is the fuckin' life!"

His calls and cheers were heard well within the bunker itself.

"He's going to get himself killed!" John complained between shots.

"Good!" Gina replied eagerly. "Let the dumb bastard get his head blown off."

Approaching the window Gina and Ranger guarded there came a contingent of ground soldiers, each of them carrying automatic weapons and wearing more snow camouflage. Ranger spotted them before Gina and opened fire at the trees, his weapon spewing forth an unbelievable amount of long-tipped projectiles per second. His shots viciously tore up the tree line and sent splinters of wood flying with every puncture. The nails themselves must have been no less than four-inches long and thick enough to be rail-spikes.

"God damn, that's a nasty weapon!" Gina observed with no shortage of bewilderment. "Have you used something like that before?"

He didn't even turn away or stop firing as he replied with his mechanical, "Yes, ma'am!"

He was scarcely worth talking to, but he was formidable with a firearm, Gina had to give him that. She was glad Ranger was on their team.

Another helicopter plummeted to the ground after an ear-shattering explosion tore it to pieces in the air. Duke began yelling out more cat-calls after every shot, much to Gina's irritation. He was clearly having too much fun at this.

A rain of bullets brought her head back to reality. Ranger ducked down quickly beneath the window and Gina followed suit just as the invading army started to return fire with their own automatic weapons.

Ranger lifted up his weapon shooting blindly over the window. The enemy broke their fire, retreating behind the cover of trees and shrubs. Gina decided it was about time she got into the fun as well.

She stood upright, pointed her dull yellow cannon forward and pulled the trigger. With a vicious recoil that nearly took her arm off, the enormous shell she had loaded burst apart right in the chamber. Metallic fragments of the shell several inches in diameter spat from the end of the device at high velocity tearing apart everything they touched. It splintered trees and felled quite a few more with only the one blast. She heard the screams of the men as they were punctured by the accelerated debris from where they hid behind the trees.

Looking down at the cannon in awe for the briefest of moments, she bent down to reload it and fired it again just as quick as she could. This time it spat out the entire shell whole, causing it to explode upon contact with the ground, blasting away a small crater in the snow and dirt and sending several soldiers flying.

She ducked down the wall once more as they returned fire.

"Nevermind," Gina said exasperated. Her breaths were coming quick and there was a wild, unrestrained look in her eye. She spoke to Ranger as she said, "I like mine better!"

Under a barrage of bullets spat down from the machine-gunners on the choppers, Duke retreated back down into the relative safety of the bunker. His grin stretched from ear to ear as the rocket propelled grenade launcher still smoked in his hands.

"You looked like you enjoyed yourself," Gina sneered at him.

"As do you," Duke replied. "I saw what that gun of yours can do. Very nice. Looks like fun. I'm almost jealous."

"You should be. Got tired of standing out on the roof with a giant kill-me sign?"

"The rain started to get a little heavy. Had to come in before I caught cold."

"Uh, huh."

Each of the four securing a different window, each of which facing separate compass directions, they shot and blasted and sniped apart the incoming army. The foot patrols were closing in on John's side, who was thus far refusing to shoot any of the men themselves but continued to disable their vehicles. But with their transportation disabled, they simply approached on foot with machine-guns blaring away. It wasn't long before he was overwhelmed.

"I need backup!" he called out in fright, ducking down underneath the window. A hail of bullets flew in and ricocheted over his head. Both Duke and Gina turned to assist, each eager to use their new-found weaponry. Together they used their explosives and blasted the approaching line straight to hell.

"How the hell did you get overwhelmed? You can kill them a mile away with that thing!"

"Because I haven't been killing them at all!" John admitted. "Who are these people, anyway? Why are we supposed to be killing them? What did they do to us?"

"They intend to kill us, and that's plenty good enough for me!" Gina yelled right back, launching another flak shell out the window to burst apart in an explosion of dirt and snow.

"But why kill these people at all? Who are they?" John persisted.

"John, you're a nice guy, but shut up and grow a pair before they kill us in here! Ask questions later!"

One look at her steely resolve, the fire in her eyes, and the massive flak cannon in her hands gave John the encouragement to follow along with the group, for now. He spun around, peeking out from the window only enough to aim and fire. This time he had no choice but to shoot them in the chest, lest one of the bullets from their machine-gun spray took out his eye.

They each one took their stations up again and continued to blast apart the enemy lines. So busy they were ducking fire and blasting away enemy troops that they never noticed Colonel Jax reappearing in the middle of the bunker. He looked around himself, immensely satisfied with what he was seeing. Carnage, but not just any carnage: controlled carnage. Intelligent defense. The first semblances of teamwork. The Bitch and the Arrogant Fucker had clearly taken a shine to their new toys. Ranger was doing what Ranger always did, which was exactly what he was told. Colonel Jax almost found himself wishing that Soldier Boy had an ounce of personality in him so he had a reason to smack him around a little. When someone came to him battle-ready and without the need for training, it made his job dull.

And even the Pussy was finally scoring a few kills with his sniper rifle, after all this time. And it was the Bitch who kicked his ass into making him do it. All the more reason to be satisfied that his work here was nearly complete.

But where was the Worthless Idiot in all of this? There were only four people in this bunker. The fifth was missing in action.

"Where's the Worthless Idiot?" Colonel Jax yelled out angrily.

Gina looked back at him for a moment in surprise, then turned back to the killing. "He went to take a leak."

"After all that work I went through to get that bastard his Barbie dolls and dresses, he's still just as useless of a bastard as ever!"

The last few words of his angered rant were swallowed by an ear-splitting cry. It sounded like an eagle or some enormous bird, but amplified a hundred times, so much so that the men and women in the bunker reflexively covered their ears. It scared them, to say the least, and everyone except Colonel Jax cowered backward, hiding down underneath the window to peek outside.

A massive bird teen feet across emblazoned in raging flames was flying down towards the ground at a breakneck speed. The massive phoenix shrieked once more, causing the enemy to kneel on the ground with their ears covered. The phoenix flew straight forward, massive burning wings extended outright, and when it hit the ground it erupted in a massive explosion, bigger than that of Duke's rocket launcher or Gina's flak cannon. Soldiers and equipment flew into the air as the blast uprooted trees and left an enormous crater.

"What the fuck was that?" demanded Colonel Jax as he rushed to the window to see. A second later, an arrow bathed in a red cloud soared overhead and sunk itself deep into a tree. From that arrow a cloud formed, spiraling above the arrow and growing outward quickly. From that red cloud fell droplets that ignited the trees and rained acid upon the unfortunate soldiers caught underneath the storm.

Catapulting into view from his perch high atop a tree, he sighted and shot arrows three at a time, each hitting their marks square in the chest. He landed, rolled and sprang upright, using his quarterstaff to pole vault right on top of two other soldiers. Swinging the staff around him, he beat and spin and danced like an acrobat around that damn pole of his, kicking and hitting every soldier near him into submission.

His immediate threats dispatched, he knelt down on the ground and rolled behind another tree just as more soldiers opened fire on him. He reached a hand quickly into his pouch, pulling forth a small handful of sand which he sprinkled onto the arrow he was notching as he worked. Turning out from behind the tree quickly, he fired into the crowd, the arrow hitting the ground between the soldiers then promptly exploding in a massive ball of flames.

From behind him, there snuck three soldiers trying to gain an upper hand on his position. But Corvus saw their approach and dipped once more into his pouch of dust. Waving his hand around him, dispersing the dust into the air as he turned, a tight blue ring appeared to expand out from around him, sending the approaching soldiers flying onto their backs. Using his quarterstaff once more, he cart-wheeled over to their position and twirled it around, striking all of them on their heads.

"Damn it," Colonel Jax cursed irritably while Corvus approached from through the trees. "I may have to think of a clever new nickname for that asshole."

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"Well, it seems that I'm done with all of you useless ingrates, after all," Colonel Jax said, his voice as soothing as a porcupine's ass. "Congratulations—you all learned how to not be useless retards. It brings a fucking tear to my eye to see you all go. Do you see it here? Running down my cheek?"

Gina rolled her eyes while Colonel Jax gestured with a gloved hand to the stark dryness underneath his eye.

"If we have finished here, does that mean I may at last finish my quest in my home world?" Corvus pleaded.

"Fat chance, tree-humper. It means that the Bloodmatch administrative board has decided to not throw all your asses to the curb. You heroes get to be famous TV stars. Just try not to die too quickly—you'll ruin my reputation."

"Your concern is underwhelming," Gina replied sourly.

"This Bloodmatch... what is it?" John asked, apprehensively. "What will we be doing there?"

"It's the latest sport, slugger. Dip-shits like yourself line up to blow each other to hell in a variety of interesting locations. Billions of people watch it on television. It's a huge money-maker."

"And we're just supposed to, what, perform for the camera?" Gina snapped.

"That's the idea. Unless you want one of the other teams to shove a rocket up your ass. All that's left is to transport you sons of bitches out of this facility and send you all packing to the next Dreamscape. Which I might as well start right now. Alright, shut it down!"

That last he yelled aloud to the air around him, pointing his head upwards as he bellowed.

At his command, the area around them began to darken. Colonel Jax, the two guards with him outside the metal bars, the concrete cell block and everyone in the prison all began to dim and fade into darkness.

Everyone was left blind for a moment as every light faded away into obscurity. Then, slowly, they began to regain their senses. It was nothing like the sudden, jarring transitions from one place to another like they were beginning to grow accustomed to. No, this was much slower, and felt far more real.

Gina found herself now laying on a stark white bed, not unlike what she would see in a medical facility. Her and the other four were laying on lining the walls of a long bunker lit by low-hanging fluorescent bulbs. Nearby, computers hummed and beeped in time to their own private song. Medical officers covered in white scrubs stood around them, busying themselves with the computers and the tubes leading from the machines into their arms.

It had all been one crazy, Gina was deciding: just a drug-induced dream, and they were just now being woken up.

"So was none of it real, after all?" John analyzed curiously, looking around bewildered at the long bunker.

"All of it was real, dumb ass." That voice, at least, had not changed in this slightest in this new place. "I just needed to use a more controlled environment to make sure you didn't blow yourselves up."

"That explains the annoying way you pulled us from place to place," Gina analyzed, feeling slightly hungover and suffering a decent-sized headache while attempting to sit upright. The medical staff removed the drip from her arm and pulled the electrodes off her skin. At length, she did manage to sit upright, swinging her legs off the bed as she did so.

Nearby, she saw Colonel Jax standing in his full military attire, free of any electrodes, tubes, or anything else that might have connected him to the machines. All the other beds lining the facility appeared to be empty and unused.

"Then how did you come and go from our... what would you call it? A shared dream, then?" Gina asked, still foggy from the sleep and the painful throbbing of her head.

Colonel Jax grinned. "You might call it that exactly, in fact. And I came and went a different way—the way I'll be showing you all in a moment. Now get up! There's people waiting for us."

Their clothes were the same as when they were first abducted. Gone were the faded paint stains on Duke's ridiculous attire, or the dirt and sweat covering each of them during their days of training. It evidenced the fact that they had been laying here the entire time since their abduction—their bodies, at least. Who knew where their minds had been.

"Fascinating," said John, predictable as always. From behind him, Corvus was thanking the medical attendants politely while Duke was staring at their asses through their scrubs.

Whether real or not, some things didn't change.

"I've never seen such technology to link the minds of people," John continued.

"Your about to see a lot of things you haven't seen before, virgin boy," Colonel Jax replied. "Now move your ass!"

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The five of them marched behind Colonel Jax, each of them feeling groggy and docile from whatever drugs they had been given during their time in stasis—that was, except for Ranger, who appeared unaffected as ever. He marched on like the poster child for the whole military. Bastard.

Thoughts came slowly—slow to form, slow to evolve into coherent questions—but at length, running over the last few days in her mind, Gina turned to Corvus, asking, "Where'd you get the arrows?"

"Pardon?" Corvus asked, turning to her.

"The arrows. In that last mission, you started with a bow but no arrows. Where'd you get the arrows from."

"They were no arrows," Corvus confided. "What you saw were little more than sticks, sharpened to a point with a knife I took from one of the soldiers. I relied on my enchanted sand to make them fly true."

"When the hell did you find the time to knock out one of the soldiers, steal his knife, and carve arrows from tree branches? You were only gone a few minutes!"

"It was longer than you may have thought. I find that wars either speed or slow the flow of time."

"I suppose so."

They walked the rest of the way in companionable silence. At the end of the low, concrete bunker was a metallic door, which Colonel Jax lead the others through. In it was a small room with a single light—and an enormous block of machinery standing free in the center. It resembled an enormous rectangular cube, taller than it was wide, covered in darkened consoles and electronic readouts. Standing not far from that enormous machine was a tall, skinny door frame.

Colonel Jax approached the machine, removing a small device from a pocket of his jacket as he went. It resembled a cross between a calculator and a cell phone. Into this machine he began entering a set of coordinates on its keypad. As he worked, the machine in the beginning of the room began to come to life with a growing humming and a twinkling of LED lights and displays.

Once the machine was fully operational, a doorway like that of a clear night sky reflected upon never-still waters appeared in the door frame. Lining that door of midnight was a frame of swirling clouds and mist, all blue and purple in color.

Duke looked at it, disbelieving, and was the first one to speak. "I left my drugs back home, right?"

"I hope so," Gina replied. "But, yes, I see it, too."

"Incredible," John said, studying the doorway from all sides.

Oddly enough, it was Corvus who was the closest to knowing the purpose of that device when he said, "A magical doorway."

"More or less," Colonel Jax admitted from beside the machine. "The Bloodmatch board gave us this freaky device when we were tasked with finding new blood for them. Never been through one. Hope it doesn't kill you. Regardless, it'll take you to their Dreamscape, so off you go."

"And we're just supposed to... walk through that?" Gina asked, doubtfully.

"Either that, or I throw you through it. Either way, this is goodbye. Now get the hell out of my facility."

"I'm not going through that thing!" complained Duke before Colonel Jax pulled out from under his jacket the same electric prod they had become so acquainted with during their training. He clicked it on, and the tip buzzed to life with the crackle of electricity.

"I believe you two were good friends, but I can reacquaint you with it if you like."

"So those things were real, too?" Gina observed.

"I already told you—the whole damn thing was real. Now step into the crazy-looking death trap before zap each of you into unconsciousness and throw your bodies through it!"

"Could you at least call it something different?" Gina hazarded, halfheartedly.

One-by-one, with Ranger resolutely in the lead, they stepped through the Nexus Gateway to enter the Bloodmatch arena and whatever else waited for them in that new place.

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Heroes.

The end for now. Send comments/questions/requests for more content to CAWithey (at) Gmail (dot) com.