The Hero of Oakvale examined the ornate mask in his hand. He had defeated Jack of Blades whilst he wielded The Sword of Aeons and had again a few moments ago when he had taken the form of a Dragon. His sword, Avo's Tear, was on his back beside a neglected longbow and quiver. Whilst he surpassed all others with his bow as he did with sword and spell he always felt more at ease wielding the latter two. He was clad from the neck down in a suit of platinum and gold Battle Armour that Archon himself had worn.

"The battle is not over yet. You must destroy the mask!"Scythe urged through the Hero's Guild Seal.

Wear me…

Jack's demonic voice came out of the ornate mask, barely more than a weakened whisper but still haunting.

Wear me and you will have power unlike anything even you have felt…

The Hero advanced on the edge of the great rocky platform and looked into the lava below.

Wear me and the world will bow at your feet…

He began to raise his arm over the edge of the cliff.

Wear me and you will be immortal…

He hesitated.

Sensing his hesitation Scythe spoke again. "Cast it into the fire!"

The Hero drew his arm back.

"Destroy it!" Scythe bellowed.

"No." He raised the mask to his face.

Flame and red lightening spurted out of the Hero. Power, the one thing the Hero desired above all else, surged through him. He had been the most powerful Hero Albion had ever seen, even more so than William Black had been at the pinnacle of his power according to Scythe, but now he was something more. Was he the new incarnation of Jack? Or a malevolent Hero, possessing power that none before him had? There was no end to one and beginning to another. He was both Jack of Blades and The Hero of Oakvale, and Albion was his…