Disclaimer: I do not own MapleStory, or any other references or shoutouts to other series that appear in this story. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of characters or events to real-life persons or events is purely coincidental.


A/N: Well guys, sorry it took so long to get this one up, so I made it somewhat longer than average to compensate for it. You'll find quite a lot of story progression here and not so much meaningless action, something that I'd taken a months-long break just to regain my writing spirit enough that I could actually churn something like this out.

Well, without further ado, here is the next chapter of WEAPON X.


The Marauders: Episode IV

WEAPON X


Kulan Fields, Gray's Prairie

Greetings, Logan. The mouthless alien's voice rang mentally in Logan's mind, and its eyes curved inwards in the Gray's equivalent of a smile. Long time no see.

Oh, just perfect… Logan thought to himself. The big cheese…

"And who the hell are you supposed to be?" The Dragon Knight spat out defiantly, still struggling futilely against Zeno's iron grip. "You'll excuse me if your face doesn't ring any bells, because you look like you were still around when Bera itself was wearing diapers."

To Logan's surprise, the old Gray before him did not react with offense, and instead laughed a deep, throaty, mental laugh, brimming with mirth.

Ah, still as violent and vulgar as ever, I see. You're no different from the time I saw you as a child. The Gray's voice continued ringing in Logan's head, and the Dragon Knight raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" He asked sardonically, quite disbelieving of what he was hearing. "I don't recall meeting a muppet audition reject ever before in my life."

Well, I'm not surprised that you don't remember me, Logan. The Gray said in an obviously bemused tone, and Logan was starting to get a very bad vibe about where this conversation was headed. After all, it was I who erased your memories in the first place.

He's the one who- what in the hell! "What the hell are you talking about, old man?" Logan snapped, his eyes narrowing. Just what did this old geezer in front of him know…?

Almost infuriatingly, the old Gray's eyes simply slanted in mirth, and its condescending laughter echoed throughout the Dragon's Knight mind. My, my, you really don't remember, do you, Logan? Well then, allow me to refresh your memory…

The old Gray made a gesture, and Zeno abruptly released its hold on Logan's neck. Coughing and gasping for air as the sudden pressure on his windpipe was released, the Dragon Knight fell to the ground, landing unceremoniously in a heap.

You were nothing but a nondescript citizen of Ludibrium when we first found you.The old Gray's voice continued to sound through Logan's mind, even as the winded warrior struggled to catch his breath and find his spear again. Homeless, nameless, naught but a feral child. An unfortunate orphan whose parents had either abandoned you at birth, or were unlucky enough to die within the first few years of your life.

"My parents…" Logan muttered, clenching a fist. Damnit, he's right. I have no memories of my parents… at all.

You were not missed by the city even after we… relieved them of your presence, The old Gray continued. But thanks to you, we now had the first human test subject of our very own supersoldier project, our counter to the UNSC's SPARTANs – Project WEAPON.

"Project WEAPON… and let me guess, Zeno's a product of that project?" Logan snapped as he finally located his Fairfrozen on the ground nearby and snatched it up, standing in a ready stance but stopping himself from attacking – he wasn't about to pass up on the wealth of information the old Gray was giving to him now.

There were nine previous failures in Project WEAPON before you were brought in as an augmentation subject – we were puzzled by the causes of the previous failures, so we decided to change our test subject instead of our testing procedures. With the similarities between Gray and human physiology, we believed that we would be able to discover what went wrong with the procedures… and we were right. The Chief Gray continued with his explanation, almost completely unconcerned with the fact that Logan had managed to rearm himself, though Zeno was already snarling and beginning to fidget.

You were given the code-name WEAPON X, to signify that you were the tenth subject of Project WEAPON. We erased your memories, and kept you sedated. We set you through procedures to train you to be obedient, to perform instructions without hesitation – the perfect soldier. All this was tested upon you first to discover why the previous nine Grays had failed to accept the procedures. But the culmination of it all was the augmentation procedure meant to transform a Gray into a WEAPON.

"Augmentation procedure…" The Dragon Knight whispered, his knuckles clenching involuntarily even as his entire body began to bunch up uncomfortably. This old Gray… there was a truth resonating in his words that even Logan could not deny. Could this… truly have been what happened to him?

The procedure was flawlessly executed on you. The Chief Gray's voice continued to echo through Logan's mind, even as thoughts and questions began to whirl through the warrior's mind. Your body accepted the augmentations without complications, and we gained the knowledge needed to make the entire process work on a Gray. But you gained something we had not expected – a hardened mind, capable of casting off even our most potent drugs and psychic dampeners.

You tore yourself free from your bonds. You became the personification of animalistic rage. You beat a bloody path out of the facility we kept you in. Nothing we threw at you could stop you. You left a trail of bloody destruction in your wake… and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen… and with your help, you made WEAPON XI possible.

Clenching his teeth in disbelief, Logan shifted his stance again, and levelled his Fairfrozen again at the old Chief Gray, despite the intimidating snarls that Zeno was giving off.

"Nice tale, Gramps. But I don't remember nothing about it." The Dragon Knight growled, mentally preparing himself to draw upon the mana necessary to perform a Dragon Roar. Zeno and the old geezer might not be completely affected by it, but it would stun them and buy him enough time to make a quick escape to get his bearings back – the leverage in this situation was completely one-sided, and it didn't take a genius to figure out which side the odds swung in favor of.

But against his expectations again, the old Gray simply chuckled, and raised a hand, pointing two fingers in Logan's general direction. Well then… if you do not believe my words, then I can simply just show you firsthand, what you did to the WEAPON X facility in your escape.

"What are you-" The warrior didn't even get to finish his sentence. The Chief Gray made a gesture, and suddenly Logan fell to the ground, crying out in pain as he clutched at his head.

It felt as though two red-hot iron pokers were being pressed into his skull, a sharp, piercing pain unlike anything he had ever experienced. A scream of agony ripped itself forth from his throat, but that soon died away as a sudden rush of sounds and images abruptly barrelled forth from the crevasses of his mind.

The Dragon Knight caught the sensation of surgical tools slicing into his body, so many machines and intravenous tubes plugged into almost every imaginable spot on his skin. He recalled sprinting through bare, winding corridors, a hideous helmet-like device strapped to his head, force-feeding him images and sounds and forcing him to react accordingly to them.

His breath was harsh in his throat, and his blood pounded through his heart and body, racing through his veins and arteries. He remembered sinking psionic blades into virtual targets dictated to him through the device, disembowelling them without a shred of hesitance. He remembered sinking energy daggers up to their hafts in living victims, having thrown them from yards away with pinpoint accuracy. And through it all the sound of his mind kept on repeating itself, the enraged, feral roar of a caged animal, desperate to escape from its captivity.

But as the sounds and images continued to assault him, Logan slowly staggered to his feet, a hand still clutching at his head as he continued to endure the barrage of memories.

After a decade's worth of images, the Dragon Knight seeing his child-like body fast-forwarding its way into maturity, Logan finally began to recognise the final images coming to him – the memories of his escape.

The Dragon Knight remembered how he had, upon the night of awakening from his augmentations, had torn his way out of the immersion vat they had contained him within in a frenzied rage, roaring like a beast that had finally broken free of its bonds as plugs and tubes from all over his body were snapped off.

Logan remembered that he had murdered the two scientist Grays that were in the same room as him with his bare hands, striking them so hard with his fists that by the time he was done with them, they were nothing but bloody pulps on the floor. They had tried to seal the facility in a complete lockdown, but nothing was to stop Weapon X from escaping.

Logan had literally beaten the door down, all ten inches of durasteel and titanium. Bleeding from over a dozen places on his body, Logan had torn apart the first Gray guard he saw, and stole the alien's wrist bracers, using the training they had forcefully imparted on him to carve a bloody path out of the science facility with his stolen psionic blades.

But the thing that unnerved Logan the most was the emotions that came with the images. He remembered how he had murdered the Grays that had kept him imprisoned for a good decade, and he remembered how he tore them apart like animals, like he was an animal himself…

And he remembered enjoying it.

Shaking his head in disgust and appal, Logan forced himself back upright and focused his attention on the Chief Gray, despite the now-massive headache that he was experiencing. His memories being returned was one thing… but he was still in the presence of a very dangerous enemy, and surrounded on all sides by nothing but hostiles.

If anything, the implications of his new revelations had to wait until he was in a much safer location.

"So… you gave me back all my memories… If you didn't come here to kill me, then why did you bring me here? Just to remind me of what I truly am?" The Dragon Knight said through gritted teeth, picking up his fallen Fairfrozen again as he stared warily at the old alien, whose expression was now unreadable.

Well, Logan, I merely wanted you to see what you had made possible. The Supreme Chief Gray's mental voice rang through Logan's mind once more. You were the final piece of the puzzle, Logan… you made WEAPON XI possible.

"So then… what the hell is weapon eleven supposed to be, then?" Logan asked expectantly, but the Chief Gray didn't answer.

Instead, the old alien raised a hand and gestured at Zeno, to which the cybernetic behemoth immediately began to stride forward towards Logan, cracking its metallic knuckles.

For the briefest of moments, Logan had time to wonder what the hell he had gotten himself into before a massive fist slammed right through his shields and sent the Dragon Knight flying, turning his entire world black.


As the Dragon Knight slowly faded into obscurity in the distance, Zeno growled in satisfaction, and turned to its master, awaiting its next orders.

He will undoubtedly survive that fall – Zeno, you fool, need you have struck with so much force that you immediately sent Logan back from whence you had brought him to us fro?. Aldaris thought in frustration to himself as he lamented how Zeno had oversimplified his orders to destroy the Dragon Knight as swiftly as possible.

Turning to face the rest of the Grays gathered, Aldaris extended his mind throughout the field and mentally broadcast his orders out to all of the Grays present in the field, Zeno included. Scour the forest and bring that human back here! Alive if possible, but I want his body intact for further study after he has been collected!

Moving as one as they acknowledged their leader's order, the entire army of extraterrestrials mobilized at once, with Zeno at their head, as they crashed right into the forests of Omega Sector in pursuit of Logan.


Somewhere, in utter darkness…

He floated within absolute darkness, a blackness so pervasive it permeated everything it touched. He raised a hand in front of him – he saw nothing but blackness.

Time had no meaning here – he knew not how long he had been floating. It could have been an eternity… it could have a few seconds.

But slowly, the darkness began to recede, replaced by the comforting glow of dawn. As he blinked his eyes, slowly adapting to the light, he began to see the clouds surrounding him… and before him, the female figure that was floating serenely, her back to him.

She was a vision of perfection, just as he remembered her. Clad in pristine white robes, her auburn locks flowing smoothly, river-like over her slim, curved figure, angels paled in comparison next to her.

But as she slowly began to turn, he saw that something was wrong.

Her visage was twisted in sorrow, her eyes betraying a pain unlike any other on this earth. Tears flowed forth from her eyes, an indistinct, glittering stream, and almost instinctively, he immediately reached out to wipe them away.

"Tricia…"

And the moment she heard his voice, the sorrow from her visage disappeared, immediately replaced by a look of relief, her eyes widening in realization. Her gaze locking onto his, she smiled, and he reached out for her.

"I failed to save you…."

The regret and anguish in his voice was clear as day. But as though that didn't matter at all, she simply smiled at him forgivingly, and extended her hand towards him.

His heart leaping to his throat, he all but lunged forward, reaching out with his own… and the moment his fingers touched hers, her flesh began to disintegrate, disappearing into hundreds of tiny motes of light.

Gasping, he could only stare in shock as her entire body was consumed before him by the light. As her head, the last of her, began to disappear, the very last words that she remembered whispering to him resounded throughout his very being.

"James… Thank you…"

Shaking his head in denial, he made to lunge forward to grab a hold of what was still there, but suddenly the darkness returned, binding his arms and legs in place, leaving him to struggle futilely against his bonds.

"Tricia… Tricia!" He screamed, pulling uselessly at the darkness that held at him like iron manacles.

"I swear it… I swear I'm gonna get us out of here! Together, Tricia!"

Sobbing in grief as the last vestiges of her presence faded away, he was alone once more, floating within absolute darkness, his screams echoing uselessly throughout the endless void.

"TRICIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"


Marauder's HQ

He awoke to a world of pain, a piercing agony assaulting him right behind both of his eyeballs. As he returned to the world of the waking, James Price Cyrus groaned in pain as he crashed right into the worst migraine he had ever experienced in his life.

"Ah, you're finally awake." The crusader heard a familiar voice speak from his right, though he could not see who the speaker was due to the fact that his eyes were scrunched completely shut due to the pounding in his head.

"Painkillers. Now." The exhausted warrior croaked out in a rasp as he extended a hand, and James heard a chuckle before he felt a glass being pressed into his hand. Without a second thought, James immediately opened his mouth and sloshed the liquid in – the cool, crystal-clear taste of a chilled power elixir ran down his throat, and the crusader let himself enjoy the little piece of heaven.

The rest of the glass immediately followed suit in several gulps, and James finally set it down, letting out a loud gasp of relief as he felt the throbbing in his head lessen significantly.

"Shit… what happened back there, Hiroshi?" The crusader said as he attempted to sit up, only to fall back into bed as the world suddenly began to spin around him. "Whoa… shit, what the hell was that?"

"You overexerted yourself, James." The crusader heard the Outlaw's voice coming from somewhere to his right. "That technique that you cast required far much more mana than your body had at the time – it drew directly from your life force instead. Your body had sustained incredible damage when we rushed you to the infirmary – your eyes in particular had taken a bad hit. We healed the damage as best we could, but your eyesight will still be a bit blurred."

"Long as I can still see where I'm going, I'm fine with that." James grunted as he finally managed to creak his eyes open a crack – true to Hiroshi's word, his vision was a tad fuzzy, but he was still able to make out minute details if he focused enough.

Grunting as he swung his legs off the bed, James pushed himself to his feet… and wobbled woozily for a few seconds, grabbing a hold of the bedside table immediately to steady himself.

"I wouldn't be coming out of bed just yet if I were you, James," The crusader heard Hiroshi say in a reprimanding tone. "The power elixir still needs time to do its work."

"I'll be fine, I'm just gonna walk it off." James grunted in reply, forcing himself back onto his feet and ignoring the spinning in his head. "What's more important right now is, what the heck did I do back there that cost me so much mana?"

"You awakened your Mangekyou Sharingan, that's what you did." Hiroshi stated gravely, and for just a moment, James stopped breathing purely out of shock.

"I did what?"

Sighing, Hiroshi walked over to a nearby table in the infirmary and picked up a tray that James had failed to notice earlier, placing it in the crusader's hands.

"Remember that Scion you fought earlier, Zabuza? This is all that's left of him right now." The Outlaw stated, and James stared wide-eyed down at the pile of ashes that lay on the tray in his hands, a pile no bigger than his thumb.

"Holy smokes…" The crusader whispered in horror as the memories slowly came back to him, and he sat back on the bed, his eyes wide with realization. "I remember what I did…"

"Damn right you do." Hiroshi said curtly, taking the tray from James' hands and setting it down. "James, you of all people should know how dangerous using the Mangekyou Sharingan is. Yet I saw you using no less than two Mangekyou techniques, back to back. Do you have a death wish?"

"I know, Hiroshi, I know…" James muttered regretfully as he buried his face in his left hand. "Gods, what have I done…"

The crusader could scarcely believe himself – from the history texts that Hiroshi had gathered, what the Marauders knew about James' eyes was that there existed a level beyond that of the ordinary Sharingan. A level of power unheard of in modern Bera, but also one with deadly cost: the Mangekyou Sharingan.

According to the history texts, the most commonly used method of forcibly obtaining the Mangekyou had been through the murder of one's best friend, but apparently the trauma of losing Tricia had been enough to allow James access to its power, though he couldn't truly ascend his Sharingan until it had fully matured… and it did so right in the middle of the earlier fight.

The two stood in silence for a while, Hiroshi leaving the crusader to stew upon the implications of his actions. After a moment, Hiroshi broke the silence again.

"There is another thing about the attack. Apparently this was to be more than an abduction – their assault on us was partially a diversion. While we were busy fighting Zabuza, the rest of them were infiltrating the rest of our headquarters."

Exasperation clear in his expression, James let his arms fall slack, and he stared up at Hiroshi, praying that the news the outlaw had was not what he thought it was.

"Please tell me it's not what I think it is."

"It is, James." Hiroshi said pensively. "They've stolen Tricia's body. It's presumably back inside the Sharenian ruins with Ergoth now."

Almost immediately, the fatigue and pain that riddled the crusader's body disappeared, replaced by a burning sensation that crawled underneath his skin – something that felt too akin to the rage he had felt when he had cast the technique that had murdered Zabuza in cold blood.

James' fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. With barely controlled movements, the crusader reached out with a trembling hand and forced himself upright off the bed.

"Hiroshi… I need the strongest calming draught you have. Right now. Before I run out of this room and storm Ergoth's stronghold right here, right this moment." The crusader spoke, his lips trembling with the visible amount of effort he was putting into keeping himself under control.

Understanding how close James was to breaking, Hiroshi hurried to a nearby cupboard and pulled it open, grabbing a bottle of clear fluid and immediately handing it James.

Almost immediately the crusader uncorked the bottle and downed the draught, gulping it down as fast as he could. Within seconds the bottle was empty, and the crusader set it down on his bedside table, sighing in relief as his hands began to stop shaking.

"Do you need a moment?" The pirate asked as James slowly calmed down, but to his surprise James shook his head.

"No. I know what I have to do next." The crusader stated, and got off the bed with surprising vigor, walking past Hiroshi and heading straight for the door. "I have to go visit his grave."

"His grave?" Hiroshi quipped, turning to face the departing warrior. "You sure you wanna go there? It's a bad time now to be going out there alone… Ergoth's assassins are prowling this land, no doubt about that. And you're still vulnerable to psychic attack from him."

James stopped at the doorway for only a moment, and turned his head slightly towards Hiroshi to indicate he was listening.

"I'll deal with it when it comes to it, Hiroshi. But I have to see him. Now."

Realizing that the crusader was already set, the pirate merely shrugged nonchalantly. "All right, if you insist. Ethan is on watch right now, and I'll be in the library doing research in the meantime."

When he had finished speaking, James didn't reply, but instead left immediately, soon disappearing down the corridor, leaving Hiroshi alone in the infirmary.

Well, don't say I didn't warn you, James. Hiroshi thought with pursed lips as he considered what he knew about the crusader's bloodline. I have a bad feeling about this. But whatever you find over there, I hope it helps, because I don't think you're going to like what I found out about Ergoth while you were unconscious.


An hour later, in the West Domain of Perion…

The wind audibly whistled about the clifftops of Perion, softly rustling the small batch of flowers that lay resting atop a peak that overlooked the warrior town.

Amongst the flowers lay a sword, flat on its side, its blade rusted and faded with age and neglect. But even still amongst the corrosion and cracks that beset the metal, the red jewel that lay embedded in the centre of its hilt still gleamed brightly, the one piece that stood in firm defiance to the bleak state of the rest of the blade.

The sword lay there amongst the grass and stalks, softly surrounded by their gentle touch as the flowers swayed in the wind… and soon, the gentle dirge of the wind was soon drowned out by a distant roar – a roar that steadily grew in volume.

For several seconds, the roar grew louder, and louder, and then suddenly died down to a low growl, as within moments, a sleek black motorcycle had pulled over a few yards away from the batch of flowers.

The growl of the motorcycle's engine was suddenly cut off as the rider cut the power to its engine, and there was an abrupt audible shifting of gears as a slot suddenly popped out from the bike's side, popping out the hilt of a Heaven's Gate.

A gauntleted hand clamped down on the greatsword's hilt, quickly sheathing it over its owner's back, and there were several quick footsteps as booted feet began their stride towards the sword fallen amongst the flowers.

Just a pace away from the grass, the footsteps suddenly stopped, and an armoured knee knelt down on the ground, the gauntleted hand placing its palm atop the grip of the fallen sword's handle, picking it back up. The blade was briefly raised, and then there was a sharp stabbing sound as the sword was plunged tip-first back in front of the batch of flowers it had fallen amongst, dirt and fallen petals sent scattering in the wind by the force of the impact.

The gauntleted hand's grip remained upon the sword's handle for several moments before it hesitantly let go, and James Price Cyrus slowly stepped back from the Devil's Sunrise that marked the spot where his father had died before his eyes.

The young warrior was silent for several moments, contemplating the marker before him, and began to finally speak in a low murmur.

"'I will live on for you as well.'" James muttered in melancholy, never taking his eyes off the sword that his father had previously wielded, alongside the Heaven's Gate that now rested across his back. "You know that's what I had decided…"

With a grim expression, James closed his eyes as the memories began to flow back…


"So you wanna be a Hero? Heheh, hang in there, junior." Jake Giles Cyrus said approvingly as he reached out and affectionately ruffled his ambitious ten-year-old son's hair.


"Hey!" Jake shook his son's shoulders as James lay on his back on the ground, the fourteen-year-old youth completely exhausted and covered in bruises. "You feeling all right?"


"Say…" The bruised, beaten crusader said to the barely conscious James that he now carried over his back. "So what are you gonna do now when we finally get back to Perion?"


The grin never left his father's face as he locked eyes with James, and Jake continued his long trek onward, holding his swordsman son upright over his back as he continued the journey home.

"We're buddies, right?"


A cramp in his leg finally forced the crusader to a stop, and Jake stopped in his tracks, taking a moment to rest.

A single breath inwards though, and Jake was good to go. Breathing in deeply the fresh mountain air, the crusader closed his eyes, and relished the feeling of closure.

At long last, the battle was over once more, and he and his son were free to live on with their lives again.

And the crusader was about to take another step forward when an arrow suddenly whizzed by his head, whistling past with barely inches to spare.

Cursing, Jake immediately sprinted towards the nearest dead tree and ducked behind it for cover. Shit! I didn't expect them to find us so quickly… I have to get behind the rocks!

Shifting and tightening his grip on the barely conscious youth on his back, Jake held on tightly to his son as he prepared for the sprint of his life.

"Hang on James, we're going now!"


With a rasping gasp as the stitch in his side flared again, Jake came to a stop just behind a massive outcropping of rocks, just enough to give him some reprieve from their pursuers.

Slowly, he set his son back down on his feet, and guided the nearly comatose youth to a sitting position resting against the rocks.

With a silly grin as he gazed upon his son, he shook James on the shoulder a few times for good measure, and held back a snigger as the young swordsman slumped over to the side and muttered something about needing five more minutes.

Five minutes is all I'll need… Jake thought to himself wryly, and he got to his feet, setting his hand on the handle of his Devil's Sunrise as he turned around and began to walk off, ready to face his destiny.

And unbeknownst to him, just as he had turned his back, James had begun to stir, and caught sight of his father just as he had begun to leave.

Squinting against the impossibly bright light, James began to reach out a hand slowly, silently pleading for his father not to go, and the young swordsman watched helplessly as Jake Giles Cyrus slowly disappeared into the whiteness…


"My dreams… My pride…"


Slowly, with a weakened, bloodstained hand, Jake raised the handle of his Heaven's Gate upwards, gently placing it in the hands of a shocked, stunned James Cyrus.

"They're yours now." Jake said, a smile on his face, despite the rain dripping into his eyes, despite the blood that flowed freely from his wounds and down his face, despite the numerous arrows sticking from his body, and despite the massive, bleeding hole in his chest.

With the knowledge that death was moments away from claiming him, Jake released the handle of his Heaven's Gate into his son's grip, and went on into the light with a satisfied smile.

"James… You are going to be…"


The crusader finally let his head roll back, hitting the soft, rain-soaked ground beneath him as his eyes finally closed, and James was alone on the Perion clifftop, his screams of grief echoing hollowly in the wind as the rain continued to fall.


"… my living legacy."


"Back then, I swore that I would never forget." James murmured, his head bowed to the sword that represented everything that he could remember of his father. "But… I…"

The crusader hesitated there, the words stuck in his throat. How, oh how to convey his current predicament to his father here?

Cursing his weakness, James clenched his fists as he grit his teeth and struggled to find the words. Back then, he had made a promise to inherit his father's will and power, to do his father's memory proud – yet now, he did not even have the power to save Tricia from Ergoth's grip, how could he possibly do honor to his father's memory like this?

And then there was still the matter of his recently-awakened Mangekyou to deal with. Deciding that that would make at least something good to start on, the crusader opened his mouth to try to explain to his father, when suddenly a spike of pain stabbed into his head – crying out in pain as the sudden attack caught him off guard, James collapsed to his knees on the ground, kneeling before his father's sword.

The molten spike of pain lodged in his head pounded again and again, a burning piledriver that drove out all other sensations and left nothing registering on his senses but burning, pounding pain – and throughout the entire experience he could hear a deep, thundering voice resounding through his mind.

Stop pretending to mourn… It said, as James struggled to open his eyes, and immediately cringed as his Sharingan flared to life involuntarily – despite the agony overriding his senses, the crusader immediately knew that his now hated nemesis' hand was at work here.

… nor is there any need for this fabricated fit of frustration… The voice continued to thunder in his head, and James could hear the condescension in it. Struggling against the pain, the warrior attempted to rebel against Ergoth's influence and get back up onto his feet… and immediately collapsed onto his side as his legs gave out beneath him.

Gasping for air as the pain consumed him, James writhed helplessly on the ground as his vision slowly faded, the blackness returning to consume him.

… because, brother…

… you are nothing more…

… than a lowly snake.


Gray's Prairie, Omega Sector

As the light slowly returned to his world, Logan John Shepard shook his head in bleariness as he dazedly blinked his eyes, trying to determine exactly where he was again.

The Dragon Knight slowly tried wriggling his toes and fingers, trying to determine if he still possessed all of his digits, and sighed in relief as he realized that everything was still in working order.

Gingerly picking himself up from the ground where he lay, Logan winced as he realized just how many destroyed trees he had left in his wake. Astonishingly, throughout his entire literal crash course through the forest, the BFG had somehow managed to stay clamped onto the magnetic holders on the back of his suit – the same went for the pair of M6D pistols and single SMG still strapped to his hips and thigh.

Whatever he had in the way of ammo though, was dismal – his entire combat harness had been ripped away, and whatever rounds he still had on him were what he carried within the loaded clips of his weapons.

Glancing around, the Dragon Knight spotted his Fairfrozen lying fallen just a few feet away, yet another stroke of blind luck, and Logan thanked the heavens as he sprinted forward and quickly recovered his fallen weapon.

A quick check revealed that the weapon was roughly unmarked – a few pits and scratches here and there, but nothing that wasn't expected from a routine mission. Repairs and maintenance could always come later at the Marauders' HQ.

Slinging the spear across his back just under the BFG, Logan snatched up his single remaining SMG from his thigh holster and slid the mag out to perform an ammunition check – verifying that the magazine was indeed full and ready, the ex-soldier reinserted the magazine into the SMG and racked the charging handle, chambering a round.

A sudden rustle of movement from behind caught Logan's attention, and his motion tracker lit up on his HUD, showing a quartet of red dots just twenty-five metres behind his position, one flitting around much faster than the other three which were slowly travelling towards his position in a straight line. Realizing that he was a sitting duck in the open, Logan quickly darted towards the nearest tree log that had the most plant growth, flattening himself against it.

They came into sight much sooner than he'd anticipated – at first, a Zeta Gray zipped right into the clearing, keeping aloft via its signature levitation, followed just a few moments later by two Barnard Grays and a single Ultra.

Just one Ultra? Logan thought to himself, smirking. This'll be a piece of cake.

The Dragon Knight kept completely still, melding completely into the foliage as the Grays moved past him, totally unaware of his presence…. and just as the two Barnards walked past him, their Ultra superior directly behind them, Logan struck.

The Grays never even knew what hit them – as far as High Templar Ultra Karass was concerned, all he saw was a green blur that suddenly appeared out of nowhere, immediately flooring the two Barnard Zealots in front of him with one blow each. The two zealots went down in a flash, their personal psionic shields flaring uselessly as whatever hit them ploughed through almost effortlessly.

Then as their assailant finally came to a stop, Karass caught just a brief glimpse of it – the green-armored human that Judicator Aldaris had ordered them to find and bring to him. Apparently it had immediately disabled both the Barnards with him by delivering bare-handed blows, as not even the large frozen spear that it carried across its back was being used.

Rearing back his right arm, Karass summoned the might of the Khala that he possessed, and channelled it into a miniature psionic storm that was contained within his palm.

Burn, heretic! The High Templar shouted as he thrust forward the storm that he held within his hand, and blasted it in the human's direction. I channel the light of the Khala!

But with unnatural speed, the armoured soldier sidestepped the majority of the blast, just allowing but the tiniest of grazes, the psionic lightning of the blast splashing uselessly over a golden shimmering barrier that surrounded him.

Up above, High Templar Zeta Telos had spotted the ruckus and was visibly preparing himself to unleash a barrage of psionic blasts – however the human, unexpectedly, somehow managed to spot the airborne High Templar and immediately snatched up one of its firearms from its thigh holster and released a barrage of gunfire at Telos, forcing the Zeta to release control over the energy he was harnessing and move, dodging and weaving through the air as bullets pinged off his psionic shield.

But before Karass could even blink, the human was suddenly in front of him, delivering punches at a rate that the High Templar didn't think humans were even capable of achieving. His own personal psionic shields weathered the beating admirably, but they were failing quickly – if he did not do something soon, the human's blows would soon break through.

Throwing himself backwards, Karass focused all of his psionic might upon the individual before him, and hammered it down with the decisiveness of a lightning strike – the human reeled as though physically struck, and the golden barrier surrounding it shimmered again, this time much more strongly.

In a flash though, the human recovered, but Karass had seen all he needed to see – his Templar training had allowed him to spot that the barrier, protective as it still was, had been visibly strained as it had weathered his Feedback assault.

We are the blades of Aiur – we stand as one! The High Templar suddenly heard a mental shout, and he rejoiced his brethren's return to the battle – the two zealots that their assailant had floored at the beginning had finally recovered themselves, and were rejoining the fight, as depleted as their psionic shields were. Our fury is boundless!

The two low-ranked Templar charged forward, psionic blades flaring forth from the bracers on their wrists, and they slashed at the armoured human, their psychic voices roaring. But with impossible dexterity, the human evaded their blows, twisting around the first zealot's strike and slamming his entire right arm into the Gray's neck in a Lariat manoeuvre, instantly flooring it and shattering its spinal cord.

The second zealot stabbed forward with its own blades, and the human caught the Gray's arm, twisting it around and placing the zealot into an arm lock before violently reversing it and essentially tearing the Gray's arm completely free of its socket.

The zealot's dying scream echoed throughout the clearing for just a second before the human grabbed the Gray's neck and snapped it, resounding through even Telos' and Karass' minds, and the two High Templar redoubled their efforts to bring the human down.

There was a sudden blur forward, and Karass suddenly found himself with a gauntleted fist buried in his gut, his shields just barely surviving the force of the blow. His own body recoiled backwards from the force of the punch, nearly folding in half, and Karass couldn't even react as another armoured fist slammed into his chin in an uppercut, snapping his head upward as the human shouted a word in his own language that Karass did not comprehend, but understood enough that it sounded vaguely like "Shoryuken".

Desperate for some breathing space, the High Templar activated his own psionic blade on his right bracer and swung his arm forward, attempting to at least force his assailant backward. But before his arm had even begun to move, a vice-like grip suddenly crushed his wrist bracer, and Karass found his right arm completely immobilized as the human held it at his side with ungodly strength.

There was the sensation of a thin barrel-like object being jammed into his abdomen, and suddenly an entire series of rapid, staccato impacts slammed against what remained of his shields, completely depleting them and peppering the combat suit that he wore.

Karass dimly heard Telos mentally shouting for him to get out of the way, but the High Templar was so dazed from the numerous blows and impacts that he barely even registered his comrade's shouts – as a result, he felt the human in front of him suddenly let go of his arm and leap unexpectedly to the side, and the very last thing that High Templar Karass felt was the bright, sizzling energies of his comrade's own psionic blasts burning away at his body.

Rolling back up onto his feet as he barely dove out of the way of the Zeta's energy bolts in time, Logan discarded his empty SMG and began to draw one of his two remaining pistols as the Ultra he had just disengaged was completely incinerated by the blasts that had been meant for him. Roaring in shock and outrage as it realized what the Dragon Knight had tricked it into doing, the Zeta suddenly shot forward, another pair of psionic blades flaring to life from its own wrist bracers.

Preparing himself, Logan barely managed to draw his Fairfrozen in time to block the savage assault, the Zeta attacking with a fury uncharacteristic of the Grays that were normally at its level. However, though furious, the Zeta's assault was sloppy – spotting an opening so wide even a second-jobber could have taken advantage of it, Logan retaliated with a spinning kick that connected with such force the Zeta was sent flying into the nearest tree trunk, its psionic shields flaring with the impact. Landing smoothly on his feet, Logan drew his second-last pistol and aimed it at the Zeta, prepared to deliver the killing shot.

But the alien recovered far faster than Logan had expected, and unexpectedly, it abruptly turned tail and fled, speeding away amongst the trees and disappearing into the canopy.

Cursing, Logan fired several parting shots at the Zeta, but they pinged uselessly off of its remaining shields, completely ineffectual. The Dragon Knight swore an oath as he emptied the rest of his magazine uselessly at the fleeing Zeta, and realized that he could not afford to let the Gray get away to alert the rest to his position.

Guess there's no time like the present to use it, then! Logan decided, and raised his Fairfrozen, dropping down into a wide stance and sliding his other hand down its shaft, the side of his body facing the Gray that he could still see fleeing.

The Dragon Knight's eyes narrowed, and he envisioned the end that he saw for his prey, the creature that fled for its life before him now. His lip curling in anticipation, Logan brought the power forth from himself, and channelled the mana into his Fairfrozen, releasing the seal placed upon his spear.

"Ikorose, Shinsō." [Shoot to Kill, God Spear]

The Dragon Knight took one step forward, thrust his Fairfrozen forward with one hand in a mighty motion, and immediately his spear's shaft suddenly extended in length, streaking forward with the swiftness of a speeding bullet. Before the Zeta even knew what had hit it, the Fairfrozen's speartip and neck had suddenly burst right through its shields and erupted from its chest, gruesomely skewering it in mid-air, and leaving it hanging there.

Abruptly, the speartip retracted, and the Fairfrozen returned to its normal length in Logan's hand, leaving the Zeta's corpse to tumble to the forest floor far below. Exhaling as he returned the Fairfrozen to its holster over his back, the Dragon Knight quickly began to move off as he heard a distant roar of rage, one that he recognized to be Zeno's – obviously the behemoth had recognized the death knells of its comrades through the Khala, and was intensifying its efforts to find him.

Let him come, then. Logan thought to himself, and disappeared into the foliage surrounding him again, preparing himself for his next ambush. He may have gotten the drop on me before, but not this time.

He had spent more than a decade wondering about his past, about what had truly happened to him, and now that he finally knew, his blood was screaming out for vengeance against those that had perpetrated such crimes against him.

Clenching his fists, Logan started to draw up the plans that he would need to properly fight against the entire Gray army plus Zeno, and began preparing himself for one of the biggest fights of his life.