Okay, welcome and I am Petey. I do fiction-y things because reasons. I've had this story in development for a while, but have only resumed hammering out the finer details as of recently. All you need to know is that I upload about once a month, here or elsewhere. I highly recommend checking out the other stories on my profile if you like this one. Although there's only one other right now. Thanks for listening, probably not understanding, and reading.

Oh yeah, and the obligatory disclaimer.

All characters, concepts, worlds, and content owned by existing companies/authors belongs to them; I own only the content I create and post here and elsewhere, and any resemblance to other real or fictional characters or ideas is merely coincidental. All submitted characters will have their creator's name stated in their debut chapter; I do not own characters of that status, but only have permission from their creators to add them to the story.

~ 1 ~

Its beginning was shrouded in anger, its end in mist, and its existence in a sea of blood. This war had raged for millennium, the influence of both sides bleeding even into other dimensions to spread the war across all universes. Countless heroes had fallen to its terrible might. Knights, sorcerers, archers, gunmen… none of it mattered, for they were food now.

"Heeeeeeyaaaaah-ha-ha-haaaaaah…. It's been a while since I've had a meal this big…more meat than the Garden of Eden though. Hehehe…"

Through the darkness of the battlefield, he saw the evilly sparkling eyes of the beast gazing at him, knowing full well nothing stood between the two any longer. This was it. If only it could have been avoided.

"So…" he mused, slowly closing the distance between them, "it's come to this. Your brawn to my blade. Shall we end this, old friend?" The footfalls of the dark behemoth sent ripples rocking across the slimy purple muck below him as he crept.

Dark laughter met his words, violet light gleaming from within the monster's sharp-toothed mouth. "Hardly friends. We're much closer. Hahaha-haaaaah."

He grimaced, though it was true in a strange, cosmic way. His hand reached to his shoulder, enjoying the surge of power that coursed through him when he gripped at the blade on his back. The metal hissed as the sword emerged from its housing, the motion tossing his long white hair along his shoulders. The blade was impressive, to say the least.

A massive, razor-sharp tower of silvery metal dictated the hulking hilt on the blade. Right from the base, the blade spanned five inches across, a gold fuller linked to the cross guard reaching towards the massive blade's curving tip. The metal was engraved with many symbols, power swelling in each. Where the cross guard hit the grip there was a large red orb, ivory spikes being straddled by extended golden prongs on the guard. Set right beneath the jewel on the guard was the grip, rich white bandages wrapping it tightly. A pointed ruby red pommel ended the sword at its bottom.

"Byahaha-aaaaaaaah! That toothpick, "Dejhir"? Puh-lease! Were they all out of real swords in "hero land?"

The man sighed through his nose, knowing full-well these were hollow taunts. "This is as real as real can get. If you still doubt the team we make, then face us and know your error."

Still chucking softly, the monster came to rest before the warrior, gazing down at him. Bellowing a roar to shake the earth, he raised a heavy fist high above him, and brought it down with his full might.

Fiery power leapt from the warrior's blade, a giant burning fist forming to meet that of the beast. With the blow reflected away the man darted beneath the giant's stumbling pillars of legs, vaulting off of a bony toe and scaling the ribs with his sword. No matter the irked thrashing of the beast the fighter couldn't be shaken away, and soon he found the blade above his eyes.

"Besting you 'til you breathe your last is a task above any so far…I am no exception. The least I can do…" The knight lifted his blade skyward, thunder cracking in the distance, "is take your sight!"

Amidst the thrashing, the blade managed to find its way into the behemoth's left eye, ushering forth a terrible shriek. Mouth agape the beast heaved violet flames, both beings lost in a hellfire storm, and all matter of land for miles around followed.

Surfacing for what felt like the first time in ages, the young man greedily gasped the air around him. He gave a bassy grumble as he whipped his soaked golden hair away from his icy blue eye. Defeated, he watched the water bubble beside him.

One could see his features clearly while he swam, due to the clarity of the water in the spring. His skin seemed part of the pale tan sand of the pool, many harsh scars scrawled along his, well...everywhere. He was lean and toned, but not bulky - the body of a swimmer, almost. He was bereft of all body hair save for the golden stubble on his jawline and chin. His long yet regal face had many scars, as well, where there wasn't metal. His wavy mane of gold hair just kind of fell where it wanted, usually just hanging over his ears and making cloudy bangs.

However, there was a quality about him that was a bit standoffish. His arms and forelegs were clad in shiny metal, his toes and fingertips sharp, shimmering points. It was all jointed superbly, as mobile as real limbs. His left shoulder and up to his eye followed. His affected eye was sealed away with a ruby red pane of glass; in fact he admired how the color was similar to that of the big red Andesine gemstone embedded in the left shoulder's plates. He hadn't lost his limbs; it had become natural to assure people he still had them when they asked. In short, he needed the metal and that's all he'd say about it.

"…mmmm-Bhwah!"

Rising beside him was a friend of his, a bit younger then he, with long, straight blue hair and deep ocean eyes. Her looks would seem odd if not for the strange genetics of her race. Her skin was also very pale, nearly white, but smooth and healthy all the same.

A scaly blue vest clung to her average bosom, leaving her midriff open. Hugging her ample hips was a knee length skirt of the same scaly nature, black tight shorts covering her thighs. Some simple black sandals kept her feet safe.

"Ee-hee! Lost again, Lance!" she chimed, her giggles bubbling out of her. Sure, he was bummed, but her laugh always put him in high spirits. A small grin hit him, him responding "Yeah, yeah, save it, Azei – you're training to take over Oceanus' place, after all. Your teacher's made of water, so of course you'd wind up basically breathing it."

Her peeved expression put an even bigger grin on him. "Oh, don't whine, you baby. I'd say grow a pair, but gills would probably help more."

"Hah! If only I could. Woulda helped with naval training for sure." He quaked with sarcastic laughter, rising out of the sea and onto the sand. Giving his neck a few pops with a quick turn, he got his stuff from the shore. Palm glowing with light, his figure dried in seconds, and he redressed quick as a flash.

His thin armored feet were strapped into some heavy, steel plated boots with a pointed toe that reached up towards his knees. A pair of well-worn, loose brown trousers was seated on them, made of heavy denim and with deep pockets. On his body he wore a heavy crimson jacket that made his build a mystery, with a heavy trench-coat collar to boot. Tracing down the back of the coat was a mosaic of golden threads that converged onto a large ring etched between his shoulders. An upright golden triangle was centered in the circle. The sleeves of the coat had been virtually burned off to the shoulders, which left his steel arms out to shimmer in the sun. His pointed metallic fingertips glinted light as he fiddled with his belt.

Fussing a bit with his gear, he gave a wave behind him. "Maybe see ya' when I'm off work. Take care of yourself."

Her words gave him pause. "Don't forget, tomorrow old Gliver's passing on the throne. First time for ten thousand years that the monarch's changing, I hear. Will you be stationed there or are you free?"

"I'm free, but I have a feeling I'll be there keeping the peace anyway. I'm assuming I'll see you there. Looking forward to it." With that, he leapt into the palms surrounding the small cove, using them as springboards to travel in the canopy and beyond quite quickly.

A great tree spread its branches over much of the town's noble residential area, the light flitting through the sparkling leaves. These buildings were more ornate and large than those of the outer reaches of the city, sometimes distastefully so, yet were usually overshadowed by the glistening golden leaves on the tree limbs above.

The young man, having leapt his way through the miles of mythical forests bridging the beach to the city, was poised more than two hundred feet above a humongous castle. His metal claws held him to the pale yellow bark. The fortress was planted at the base of the tree's northward side, the spires at its corners just barely poking at the lowest branches.

Gaze focused at the back balcony, his claws slipped from the bark. The wind slicked back his hair, made his face tingle as it rushed past, and filled him with energy. As he dove toward the palace below, he mentally readied himself for his shift.

An ancient monarch sat on his throne, the guiding light of his kingdom. For ten thousand years he had ruled, which had been his dream since the kingdom itself was young. Growing up with one's kingdom sounds almost like a work of fiction, yet Gliver knew that should any such fable be told it would be inspired by events of his own life; after, all, he was one of many who had come before order itself, let alone folktales. But that in itself is a story for another time.

Even though he still donned the heavy, ivory armor of the Kings of Light, his bones were growing old. Far too old to stand up to the governing routine he had followed nearly his whole life. As he rested on his marble cathedra, his young, snowy haired daughter on her own chair beside his, a thud on the balcony shook the entire room. As he smirked at the sort of calling card he had enjoyed for the past several years, he noticed his daughter rolling her eyes. In a sort of fatherly way he found this amusing, his grin growing beneath his bulbous nose and bushy white beard.

"Ah, there you are! How was your time off, hmm?" came booming from the old giant on his throne. Lance lazily waved as he stood, the armored guards stationed on the balcony regaining composure after being jarred by the human meteoroid. "Enjoyed it, but I'm ready to get back to work. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Trotting into the room, he readied a jump into the rafters above, the ideal area to scope for potential threats. "Eh, actually, Lance, I'd like to show you something. Rather, I'd like Xynya to show you something."

As out-of-the-blue as the proposition seemed, he had an idea of what was going on, following the gleaming haired maiden into a room behind Gliver's massive throne. As the two tread a marble hall, she spoke. "As you know, there are a multitude of Divine Arms that deserving guards are granted for outstanding performance. Many are being used right now, but there are several remaining for your selection." Dryly, he spoke"Oh, so I'm getting one of those? This ain't just 'cause you dig me, right?" The princess found it in herself to grin. "Of course not. We don't give Arms away to just anyone, no matter if they're seductive or not." "Oh. Good to hear that I'm seductive. Thanks." "I didn't mean you, you idiot" she deadpanned. "Just pick the Arms you want. You can train later."

The hall opened up into a large, dome-shaped room, hooks lining the walls for what once was dozens of godly weapons of all kinds. However, there were only a few left scattered around the walls. Massive, shining clawed gloves, a long barreled musket with a wood grain finish and golden vines weaving around it, a silk-roped whip with a weighted spike at its end, a pair of dense, plated boots with sapphires inlaid in the ankles, a heavy looking metal viola with a bladed bow, and a large chain hammer.

"So," Lance began, eyeing up the weapons, "I just get to choose any one of them?" Xynya had a cause for thought at that question. Turning to him she took his hands. "It's just whichever one feels best in your grip."

He took a breath, reviewing his selections, and gazed into her violet eyes. "M'kay...what if I don't want one?"

Knocking on the corridor wall interrupted their shenanigans. A lean, yet towering, golden armored knight peered down at them. "Advancements on the gates, your Highness. Sir Lancelot, your aid is also required." There was no more joking in the atmosphere. "Artorius, sound the alarms and relay instructions to the army. I want everyone stationed in phalanx, with healers in back and ranged between." Proper as it was this order left out someone important. "Forgetting anyone? You know, the guy you hired to give orders like that?"

Xynya began clearing her throat as Lancelot's remark. Turning to him, she addressed him "Ah, yes. Sir Lancelot, I want you to station yourself at the north gates. After you select a Divine Arms." Hand floating from pocket to chin, the guard gazed around the room. "Fine. How about..." he mulled, staring at the instrument, then the musket. Hurriedly, however, Xynya clenched and thrust the hammer into his hand. "Now go."

Sighing, he clipped the hammer to his back and the three left for battle.

Rushing to the front window of the throne room, the two only saw what could be described as utter destruction. The outer walls of the city had been torn apart, hordes of malformed creatures pouring into the streets. Centaur-inspired skeletal men with massive crickets for legs, pulsating blackened hearts on the backs of speedy flesh hungry rats, airborne mages, cloaked in rags bloodied from propellers having been jammed into their backs, the list continued. It was a living nightmare.

However, the mutant army was dwarfed by the sea of demon soldiers, appearing human aside from curled horns jutting from their temples, pale gray skin, sharpened fangs, and violet lights burning in their angry eyes. Their ranks were of a dangerously versatile range of groups; powerful knights, alluring sorceresses, trigger-happy grenadiers, sturdy monks, dexterous assassins, and speedy healers.

And they weren't hesitant in the least.

They began ripping through the first responding golden knights, the divine wizards and archers only slowing their advance. No race had the advantage: human, angel, alien, beastman, lizard folk, not even Harpies could assault from the air. The city had gone from buildings to an ocean of undulating violet and gold, shoving at each other for supremacy.

"This…this is awful…" Xynya could barely contain her shock, gasping air through the cage her fingers had made over her mouth. "I…We have to evacuate those who remain, Lance. Artorius will lead the army. You go to the East Plaza. I'll take West." As she turned to leave, her wrist was gripped, tethering her. Gazing up, she found her father kneeling over her. "I will take West. You get to the safe room" boomed the giant, drawing a colossal gladius from his hip, the sun themed cross guard gleaming with his ivory plate armor.

"Oh no, ya' don't."

Lance had spoken, his back to them and the mammoth chain hammer resting in his hands. "Xynya is taking the throne tomorrow, Glive'. She can lead just as well as you. She takes West, you take East." He turned his head, calling out. "And I bust heads."

Before anyone could object, he vaulted from the tower. Crashing down onto his sturdy feet he dashed for the front lines, the hammer cocked at his right hip. Feet powerfully kicking against the ground, he arrived in mere moments. Muscles tensing, he swung the hammer upwards so hard he flew with it dozens of feet into the air, sailing above the sea of violet invaders.

"Heaven's Envoy, clear the area!" he wailed like thunder, the hammer's head glowing with light power as it hung from his shoulder, ready to be swung. Landing hard and fast, the massive mallet's head let loose an explosion of divine energy that blew a house-sized hole in the earth, and sent a parking lot's worth of dark soldiers flying. "Remember what you fight for, people of the Divine City! Not to protect just the monarchy, but the citizens as well!" he bellowed to the divine army.

Many found energy well in them through their struggles, making quicker work of foes than before. They wouldn't let the innocent fall victim to invasion.

It had been hours of fighting. How many was it? Most had lost count, but a sunset had replaced the afternoon sky.

Lancelot had been beating down foes left and right, taking serious damage as he gave it. Many javelins had skewered him, he had been left burned and battered, and cuts riddled him. 'I have to just keep it together…man it's hard with all this pain…' Arms burning from exertion, and lungs raw from dust and use, he found himself on his knees. Pain consumed his whole body. 'I can't let it out. I need…to just do what I've been doi-'

"Ah!...kgh..."

He was torn from his thoughts by a surge of terrible pain. He didn't want to look down…but he wasn't strong enough right now to say no. He found a spear of dark energy through his abdomen, dripping red.

His vision blurred by exhaustion and pain, he stared at his assaulter. She was a bit short, with a curvy body and horns that angularly spiraled back. Shining violet eyes were part of her flawless features, elegant black lips and pointed ears on her innocently round face. Hugging her body was a tight, black, one piece silken suit, her limbs guarded by bulky, black leather armor. A deep crimson cape whipped around behind her. His gaze fell again to his wound, vision going dark and hearing being clouded by a faint ring. He heard silence...it was a terrible feeling.

'Got him.'

It had been a long day of bloodshed, a lot caused by him. The demon's numbers were definitely thinner than they were in the afternoon. But it was over for him, her spear in his gut and his maul hammer dropped from his grip. 'It's a shame he had to die. He really could fight. Kind of cute, too. But this place…' her spear coming out of his flesh with a satisfying snap as she thought, 'is rightfully ours.' The darkness used to make the pike fizzled out of existence as she turned her gaze to the palace. Their last place of refuge, about to be crushed by their forces, and no golden soldiers left to stop them. It almost made her smile….

"RRHAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHH!"

A terrible wail redirected her attention. 'That was…chillingly powerful.' Scrutinizing my surroundings she readied another spear. 'Whatever made that sound is in for…a…fight…'

"I...did get him, right…?" she stammered, "No one could be standing after taking a spear to the gut." Yet, there he was. Wrapped in fire, and on his two feet. "You will know my power...Even confined, I will not let death take my new body!" he roared at her, a fiery ball of energy building from the gem on his shoulder. 'This is…bad.' It just continued to grow, his right hand grabbing it and hefting it above his head.

Fighting wasn't a good plan. Her dark spears burned up when they touched the flames spreading from him. Can magic even burn up? This wasn't the time to think. She screamed. "RUN, NOW!" Many nearby soldiers turned, then seemed to regret it, then ran for their lives. She would've done the same at this point.

"End in fire!"

He brought his hands apart, causing the huge swirling globe above his head to burst with volcanic power. Her vision was bathed in bright flames, and her skin stung with pain. This was the only feeling before blackness filled her vision.