I'm Sorry this took so long, I know I said I was already working on it back in August or whenever, but I recently started a new course at my local college (Level 2 Engineering Diploma, if anyone is interested) so I've been swamped in coursework, and add on another author I used to be kinda close to faking his own death for some sick joke, so I've either not had time or I've not been in the mood to type this up. Anyway, it's finished now (whenever I end up posting this) so Enjoy! Fun piece of trivia, most of this chapter was typed on many of the 30 minute bus rides to and from college…

Last Time: "J-James? Is that you? It's me… I'm your little sister…"

Chapter 8:

As soon as words came from Morgana's mouth, Ender's eyes went wider than they'd ever been before a painful burst of memories erupted back into his mind from hidden deep within his sub-conscious. As he staggered backwards, he clutched his left eye in a way that he didn't notice the three approaching women. He fell on one knee and Lynelle was instantly by his side, Marie standing defensively over them as Aria stood in shock. This was unnoticed however as he slipped into his memories…

The sun was strong as two black haired, purple eyed young children, a boy wearing a simple beige shirt and brown trousers and a girl in a simple white sundress ran through a light forest near the edge of the desert they lived in.

"Come on, Morgana! You're falling behind!" called back a 12 year old Ender, or James before his true name was lost to the Fires, his face clean and without scars or blackened flesh.

"That's no fair, Brother! You know you stupid boys are faster than me!" an 8 year old Morgana complained back, earning a good-natured laugh from the boy, who slowed down to let the younger girl catch up. She struck her tiny fists against his arm a couple times as he continued to laugh before a sad howl caught their attention. The younger girl looked at the boy, who frowned in the direction it came from.

"Brother…"

In response, he gently grabbed her hand and began to lead her closer towards the howl. "Stay close. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."

"O-Okay…"

As they made their way towards the source of the howl, it wasn't long before they picked up on the sounds of cruel laughter, wounded whining of an injured pup and the tell-tale thump on boots against an animal's body. James' frown came back as they came to the edge of a large tree and four boys around his age came into view. They stood around a young wolf, its snowy white fur matted with blood in places, taking turns to kick it, eliciting a pained whimper. The half-ender boy growled lowly before he turned to his sister.

"You stay here. I'll get rid of them."

"No, You'll get beat up if you go over there…" she protested, clinging onto his arm to stop him going.

"So I should just let it die? Just because those boys are stronger, it doesn't mean they can do whatever they want."

"I know, but…"

James smiled back and ruffled her hair a bit. "Have you forgotten who we are? I'm your badass big brother and you're my super-smart little sister. Together, we can do anything, remember?" He held up a palm, and she smiled back.

"Yeah, we can do anything." The half-ender little girl smiled back and they high-fived. After he quickly thought up a plan, she stepped out from behind the tree and yelled at the boys.

"Hey, you stupid boys! Stop being mean to that puppy! Stupid meanies!"

The boys stopped beating the dog and glared at her. "What was that, little girl?

"I said stop being mean, you stupid-heads!"

The boys stepped away from the dog and started walking towards her. "Stay out of this, pip-squeak, unless you want us to beat you instead."

Instead of being frightened, Morgana just smiled. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, you dummy boys."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

The answer came in the form of a rock being thrown from behind and smacking the back to the tallest one's head, sending him to the ground with a rather nasty cut. They turned to see James on a low tree branch, with a bag of rocks and another in his hand.

"Because my brother will be angry, and he's scary when he's angry."

After a second, she grinned and bolted to the tree her brother was in as he threw another rock, hitting the tallest one, still on the ground with scraped knees, square in the face. He scampered and away, crying and beaten, as more rocks were throw, his friends following not long after. James hopped out of the tree, grinned at his sister and raised his hand for another high-five, which she returned and grinned back.

A pained whimper brought them out of their victory moment and their attention snapped back to the injured wolf, which was now trying to limp away while keeping an eye on the two siblings. James approached slowly, and the wolf's eyes snapped to him. In response, he lowered his body and made a calming gesture.

"Shh, I'm not going to hurt you. Shh, shh, shh."

After many minutes to James gently trying to keep the animal calm, it finally let him touch itself. Gently, he stroked its muzzle, head and back, the wolf occasionally whimpering when he brushed a sensitive wound, James gently apologising each time. Slowly Morgana approached with an outstretched arm, smiling as it lifted its head to sniff and lick at the offered hand…

The memory tapered off there, but soon another one took its place, one which Ender tried with all his conscious willpower to ward off.

"No, anything but that! Please don't make me live through that again! Isn't once enough?!"

A small village in the desert was quiet as most residents settled inside their homes to avoid the darker creatures lurking in the night. Inside a small sandstone family home, James and Morgana were settling into their beds as a young woman in her early thirties with coal black hair and warm honey-brown eyes wished them a goodnight as she picked up the empty mugs they had been drinking warm milk from. A snowy grey wolf rested at the foot of James' bed, sniffing softly at the covers, having grown attached to the boy after a tense three weeks. The two children were just drifting off as the beast's head shot up and he growled, waking the siblings.

"What's the matter Rynn?"

He growled again and barked at the window, prompting the sibling's mother to re-enter the room with a confused expression.

"What's got him in a fuss?"

James gave her a clueless look. "I dunno, something outside…"

His mother retained her confused look as she crossed over to the window. She peered out at something in the distance and froze. James' curiosity got the better of him and he joined her at the window. Outside, approaching from the dunes was a warm glow of torches. A lot of torches. Slowly, those torches gave way to show a mass of soldiers. Held high above them was a banner to which every ender and half-ender's blood ran cold. A stylised golden cross imposed onto a sky blue banner with two crossed swords behind it; The Holy Church's Purification unit.

The woman took a few steps back in shock, the mugs slipping from her hands and shattering on the sandstone floor, spilling a little left over milk on the soft lilac rug. "No. No, no, no, this can't be happening." She whispered to herself. "We need to leave. Now."

The swung open with haste, revealing a young enderman in his mid-thirties, wearing a simple brown tunic and beige trousers. His dark purple eyes held a light of concern and worry as they flicked between his wife, the shattered clay cups and his son. "Honey, What's wrong what happened!?" His voice held an obvious worry as he spoke with a slightly distorted accent that all Enders held when speaking human languages.

"It's them. They're here, they've found us. Darling, we need to take the children and leave."

The Enderman's purple and lilac eyes widened before they narrowed again, becoming harder than obsidian. "Collect their things and your own and run to the forest. There's a refuge for hunters we can use to hide them. I'll warn the village, if they haven't seen them already."

Suddenly, everything was in a flurry of movement. Essential items were thrown into leather rucksacks and the next moment the siblings were hurried out of the door in an attempt to escape the approaching murderers.

A pity they were too late.

As the family turned the last corner leading out of the village, a fiery hail of flaming arrows rained upon the village, catching crops and wooden structures and setting them a blaze. A cacophony of screams filled the air as the ring of steel being unsheathed echoed across the village, only to be followed by the sickening tearing of flesh brought about by the swords of the 'men of god'.

The sibling's mother suddenly jerked to a halt as the familiar blue tabard came into sight. The soldier turned to them and drew his sword as she went for the steel hatchet at her hip, but before he could take a step, an arrow flew past the family and buried itself in his eye. The siblings' mother turned to its origin and smiled in relief as her eyes rested on the ebony figure of her husband, bow in hand as he ran towards them and gripped his wife in a tight hug.

"That was too damn close. We need to leave, now!"

The mother nodded wordlessly and grabbed the siblings' hands as they ran between the burning buildings. Another fleeing family caught up with them and a few words were exchanged as they ran as a group, weaving around burning husks of former homes and cooling bodies of past friends and collegues. As they ran past the local liquor store, an explosion ripped through the wooden walls of the building as the flames caught the volatile liquid and ignited it with astonishing force. The escaping group was thrown in two directions as a burning wall collapsed between them. The last James saw before darkness clouded his vision was his valiant little sister fighting against the other family's hold as they ran, screaming out for and trying desperately to be with her older brother.

The light returned after what seemed a small eternity as a blurry figure gently shook his small shoulders, another figure crouching near them, silhouetted by the flames. Blinking rapidly, the figures took shape into his mother, who was still gently shaking him, and his father, who was watching the area with his bow in hand, ready to defend his wife and son. James shook his head to clear it as he stood up, his mother lightly grasping his arms to help him up. She smiled at him a little bit to raise his spirits and opened her mouth to speak—

Until a glittering, golden arrow flew straight towards her, piercing her chest and rupturing her lung. She staggered and fell onto her back, choking on the blood filling her lungs.

"Arielle!"

Her husband screamed before he turned to the source. Standing, a golden bow with an angelic design held relaxed, casually, in his outstretched hand, was a soldier adorned with a sky blue half-cape on his left arm, embroidered with the same thrice-be-damned golden cross: a Captain. A second and third bowman accompanied him on his right and left and, as the Captain disdainfully turned his nose up at them, both let loose an arrow from their own bows, striking the enderman twice in the chest. James' father let out a feral growl as he retaliated, even as his own life drained away. The steel-tipped arrow landed a savage strike against the guard's helmetless head, burying it though the back of his throat. Finally, with a victorious snarl, the light faded from his eyes and he fell forwards, lifeless. James was frozen in shock and grief as the other guard snapped out of his own shocked stupor and cautiously approached the enderman's cooling body. Callously, he nudged the corpse with his foot, as if to illicit a response. When none came, he grinned and kicked the dead father's head with a dull click thud of leather boots against bony flesh.

As he watched, the grief gave way to anger and the flames of rage flickered to life within the 12 year old spectator to his disgraceful act. Slowly, his hands searched the coarse, ash-covered ground until they met a sharp metal edge and his fingers drew the object's handle into his palm. In a burst of rage-induced speed belaying of his small frame, the boy crossed the distance and sank his new weapon into the guard's abdomen. The short, silver blade slipped deep into his flesh, blood flowing freely from around its edges and the pair froze, until the light faded from the man's eyes. His body slumped and fell to its knees then down to the side as James stared numbly at the cooling corpse, his rage slowly fading and giving way to a new feeling, something cold something…primal. Breathing heavily, his vision began to cloud as lilac fog tinted his vision. Shivering violently, he blinked rapidly trying to dispel the fog before his eyes were screwed tightly shut. Suddenly, he doubled over in a sudden burst of pain, staying like this for a second before he stood up again. When he stood be possessed an aura no 12 year old boy should ever hold. Cold. Primal. Deadly. The Aura of the Predator, as the village spiritualist used to call it. His eyes opened slowly, sharply defined with new, predatorial senses. The sight of them alone would have been enough to cause nightmares, if anyone lived long enough to see them. His amethyst Iris blazed with feral light and his clean white sclera were stained a murky lilac. The trauma of seeing his parents invoked a primal rage inside James, and now his Ender-born nature had taken hold. And as such, the Nightmare of Yttria began.

With a terrifying calm, he walked over to his fallen parents and kneeled between them. Slowly and with care, he pulled the arrows from their corpses and closed their eyes. He lowly murmured a short prayer in a language that not even he would have understood if he were still human before he removed two matching rings from his parents' ring fingers, each a simple silver band with a softly glowing orange gem.

"I'm sorry Mother, Father, but I need to borrow these…"

He apologised as he slipped the rings on and returned to his standing position before he clenched his fists, activating the orange gems' true nature. The glow increased and then suddenly disappeared as orange flames flickered to life from the Blaze rod shards polished to look like gems, quickly shooting up his arms and blazing into life in his eyes. They danced in their true colours before violet colour quickly overwhelmed them and they became a new tool of destruction for the vengeful Ender-boy to use. With eyes aflame with violet fire, he strode over to his first victim and callously pushed the corpse onto its back and brutally ripping the dagger out of his stomach in a grisly display of gore before he crouched low and prowled towards the village, and his prey. The predator had retrieved his claws, and the now the hunt had begun.

It wasn't long until James was surrounded by death. Death he had caused, yet he was strangely calm. 14 soldiers lie dead around him, death evidently varied between, and many more lie in the village behind him. Most were slashed or stabbed, no doubt by the blood soaked dagger in his hand. A few were impaled on their own weapons, or those of their comrades. A pair of twins shared such a fate, each with the other's sword hilted in their stomach; their hands still frozen by rigor-mortis. An unlucky few faced the power of his flames directly, charred and blackened bones in place of flesh, muscles and even a man's entire face. One man was even ripped to pieces with his bare hands, his armless socket still leaking what little blood his had left and his knee snapped the wrong way.

Only a single man adorned in the attire of a Captain stood, seemingly oblivious to the slaughter of his comrades. His stony features were cracked with a smug expression, even as James looked directly at him, cold murder in his monstrous eyes.

"I always knew you freaks were nothing more than monsters, but thanks anyway for the perfect demonstration. When I report this to the leadership, we'll have authority to 'whatever's necessary' to you monsters. Especially your pretty young women, haha!"

The captain taunted, yet James remained unfazed. He simply looked at the man. After a second he replied evenly as he slid the dagger into his belt, without a hint of intimidation, but it wasn't his voice. The voice he spoke with was darker, twisted and warped like an enderman's scream twisted into words.

"You seem confident in your own survival." He stated as he retched a steel sword standing up from a fallen corpse. The sword was just over half his height, yet he wielded it his one hand as he flicked it up to point it at the man. "Care to put that to the test?"

The man grinned. "You're out of your depth, you half-pint little monster, but I guess I'll take your challenge." The ender-boy just stared impassively. Annoyed by the lack of a response, the guard charged forward as he drew his unusual sword. James reacted by moving so fast he almost blurred out completely, scoring a deep gash in the older man's side as he dashed past. He slid to a stop as the wounded captain forced himself to remain standing with enraged fire in his eyes, contrasting with the cold, literal flames in James' own.

"I, Gabriel Mich-herilov, refuse to fall to some brat like you!" He forcefully swung his sword in front of him before roughly standing in an open fighting stance. James' eyes settled on his weapon and a primal urge to back away from it sparked in him for a second before he crushed it mercilessly. The guard must have noticed it as he grinned and moved his sword slightly.

"Do you like it? It's a personal creation of mine; Ender-Termina! Using the pearls I gathered from slaughtering you monsters, I infused them into the molten shape of a diamond sword and gave birth to the most beautifully ironic tool to slaughter even more of you un-godly freaks! Now, fall to this blade and DIE!"

He was moving before he even finished his sentence and the primal ender-boy only just managed to block the blade in time, earning a small scratch on his cheek for the trouble. He dived backwards to avoid the return sweep, and raised his sword to defend against the next attack as the captain chased after him, sword still swinging wildly. He blocked a slash from high on his left and stepped away from the following stab to his right, before he retaliated with a high stab that lightly bit into the guard's neck. James' primal speed and strength met Gabriel's skill and bloodlust slash for slash, and stab for stab.

Suddenly, a flash of light broke the momentum and time slowed as James threw his head back and a golden arrow streaked past his face, an arrow that would have killed him if he hadn't of moved. He turned his head to look at the source, briefly making out the shape of another man in a captain's uniform with a golden bow in hand before pain lanced up his arm. He turned back to see the diamond blade of Gabriel's sword embedded into his flesh. With a spiteful laugh he ripped it out, and James staggered back as the red fog descended again.

"I knew you weren't all that tough. In the end you're just another freaking little shit. Fuck lot of good those eyes of yours did ya!"

He kept speaking but James couldn't hear him anymore. The only thing he could hear was a quiet voice whispering steadily louder.

"…em…"

…

"…them…"

…

He struggled to hear them, so he called out into his mind.

"Who's there? What do you want?"

…

"…ll them…"

"What do you want from me? What do I do!?"

…

"KILL THEM!"

The voice roared, and something inside of him snapped. For a second time, he could feel the primal urge, but now it was stronger, more violent. It called for blood, and he answered before his consciousness faded.

His closed eyes snapped open as the violet flames spread from his eyes followed by black hardened flesh, like burning wood. His hair turned an ashen grey and grew to his shoulders. His legs and arms became longer and his body became more built. When it was complete, his skin was entirely black; his eyes still burning with violet flames and he looked as if he were 19 or 20 in age. His physique was slim, yet with enough power to overcome a fully grown ox. Before he had a chance to ready himself, Gabriel was assaulted by a fist like cast iron, throwing him backwards with great force. As he landed, he could feel the broken ribs in his chest and he cried out in pain. He looked up to see the almost fully-Ender James approaching with his sword still in his hand. As he drew closer, Gabriel could see blazing purple cracks spreading along the blade, tiny flames licking at their edges. He swung his sword and the guard scrambled backwards out of the way, feeling the heat from the blade singeing the hairs on his skin as it passed. Panicked, he scrambled to his feet and tried to attack, but when their blades met, the straining steel of James' blade could no longer contain his surging power and exploded violently into violet flames and shards of metal, throwing the captain back a few metres.

A lingering smoke remained for a few moments. A few tense seconds ticked by until a gust of wind picked up and cleared the smoke, revealing James, clothes slightly singed but unharmed. He threw down the hilt of the shattered sword; the only thing left of his weapon and started to walk towards Gabriel. The guard scrambled to his feet, hastily readying his weapon as his enemy drew closer. James stepped within attacking distance, and he swung his sword wide from the left, with the intention of slashing across the hybrid's chest.

The blade stopped short as James grabbed his arm before driving his knee into the guard's solar plexus and twisting his arm behind his back, forcing him to drop his sword in the process. He struggled out of the grip and retreated a few metres backwards. Gabriel flexed his hand and his eyes widened as he realised he no longer had his blade. He watched as James picked it up and gave it an experimental swing before turning his attention back to the guard. B y reflex, he bolted towards the nearest corpse, grabbing the sword and raising in a panicked block. The futile attempt did nothing to prevent his death.

James swatted the blade away with a slash to the left, and a sudden instinct rose up inside. Following that instinct, he willed the intoxicating power blazing in his eyes down the length of his arm, as if the sword was calling for it. Angular veins of glowing purple light spread across the blade like an intense chain of lightning strikes as he applied more power, pushing until he felt all the power leave his right eye. As he forced the last ounce of power into the blade, Indigo flames burst to life like fire across oil, starting near the handle and forming a tight cloak of indigo and violet blaze.

He followed up with a rising slash that severed his right hand and half of his lower arm completely. The afflicted man screaming in agony as he stumbled back, his cauterised stump still sizzling, until James slashed him across the chest, deep enough to cause extreme agony but not deep enough to kill him, and he screamed an even louder, more agonised wail. Growing tired of his screaming, James focused and time seemed to slow as he lunged forward with a low, rising slash that tore clean though his left thigh, fluidly following with a horizontal slash that took off his remaining arm, carrying the momentum into a half spin. He brought the sword up next to his head, tip pointed at the slowly falling guard, his body coiled like a viper for the attack. He stopped for the briefest moment to growl.

"Die!"

With that, he brought his sword up in a steep slash rising from right to left that tore the falling guard's body in half in a grisly spectacle of blood and gore. The bisected corpse hit the ash-covered ground with a sickening wet thud as James relaxed his pose, dispelled the flames and inspected his new weapon. The gleaming surface, now soaked in blood, showed no sign of breaking under the stress of his uncontrolled power.

'No sign of damage or decay. Good length, diamond edge means no need for sharpening, sturdy blade. Well made, deplorable origins. It's a good weapon, and an even better symbol of revenge.' He mentally appraised before he tore off the man's cape and used it to clean the blade. Retrieving the sword's sheath from the corpse he secured the weapon to his back and glared in the direction the other captain with the bow had retreated before he set off in the same direction.

It wasn't long until he caught up to the blue-caped man. As he came to what used to be the village centre, large chunks of debris in place of old market stalls, The man was stood; waiting, with his back to the approaching predator, whose foot caught a loose piece of rubble and it skittered across the ground. The man looked over his shoulder with an arrogant smirk as over a dozen hidden archers sprang out to unleash their deadly hail. To anyone one else watching, James became a blur and trail of indigo flames as the familiar feeling of his instincts took over and time slowed again.

The colours faded to grey as he focussed his whole attention the hail of steel destined to impale him. In a real-time split second, he re-ignited his weapon and slashed upwards to deflect and incinerate the first three arrows simultaneously, carrying the momentum of the strike into a full back-flip to avoid the next two narrowly passing underneath his head, finishing with an upward strike that mirrored his first, deflecting the next into the ground and splitting the one after into two splintered pieces. In a split-second, he burst forward, deflecting another arrow as he ran. His eyes flashed teal under their blazing cloaks and a shower of sparks replaced him as he felt himself shift and warp. He reappeared behind the first group of three and swung his sword downwards, biting deep into the first man's spine as his comrade stood in shock. The assassin capitalized on it and drove the blade clean through the second man's stomach, before hauling the corpse in front of him to block the third man's retaliatory strike. Before he could load his next arrow, James kicked his friend's corpse into him, knocking him to ground and slashing his throat with the silver dagger he kept on his belt. The remaining 9 bowmen reacted as only they could, unleashing as many arrows as they could. They did little to stop his assault as he deflected or completely burned them away. He vaulted off of a low, ruined wall and leapt into the next group of three. He landed between the three before he lunged at the guard in the middle as the other two drew their swords even amidst their shock. His blade pierced straight through the man's heart and emerged on the other side before James threw his head to the side to avoid a blow that would have torn out his right eye, countering with a backwards heel kick to the man's face that threw the guard at least half a metre sideways. He spun in a half circle in time to lock swords with the other man as they struggled for a few seconds before James palmed his dagger and, with a lightning fast movement, slashed his throat. An enraged roar alerted him that the second man had already recovered and was charging him. James earned a moderate gash as a result of a failed block with his dagger, the smaller weapon unsuccessfully diverting the full-length sword away from him, biting into his hip slightly. Contrary to a normal wound, blood didn't flow as a liquid but instead a thin red smoke drifted from the wound, getting caught in the lazy wind and dissipating and his eyes flashed with rage and he gripped the sword's handle in two hands, bringing the blade up and cleaving it into the attacker's shoulder, splitting him in half from shoulder to hip.

A slow, patronising clap drew James' attention and he turned. As he was striking down their allies, the other 6 bowmen had re-grouped and formed a slightly curved firing line with the golden bow-wielding captain at the centre. He took a step forward, but the 6 readied arrows made him reconsider. The burning in his eyes, different from the literal fire, told him his spacial warp was out of the question, and he wasn't close enough to reach them with his sword as well as deflect all of the arrows. Stuck for options, he just glared at the leader.

"Well, I must say, you gave us quite the show there monster. we could have used someone with your talents, especially that delightful flame trick, but alas; your little rampage ends here. Farewell to The Freaks' last hero, we'll take good care of your people, just like we did to your village here." Said leader taunted as he raised his hand with an arrogant, shit-eating smirk, his underlings drawing back their bowstrings, ready to fire. The reality of his situation ran through his mind and his body went a little colder. Despair threatened to creep into his mind as he thought of his parents and his little sister.

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Mother, Father, Morgana. I couldn't live for you, I wasn't strong enough.'

His eyes clouded his grief and he watched uncaringly as the half-dozen barbs began their death-delivering path. It was of little importance now, there was nothing he could do. Every escape route would be intercepted by an arrow.

Suddenly, Time froze as a voice entered his mind, pulling him away from his mind. It was soft, caring and motherly. It was a memory of Arielle, his mother.

"Aw, you're my own little knight! You're going to grow up big and fight off all monsters, aren't you?" His eyes widened. This was from his twelfth birthday, when he said he wanted a toy sword to 'fight all the bad guys'.

"You're so cool and strong! You're amazing, big brother!" Morgana, his precious little sister, after he scared off a group of boys from the district capital that were trying to pick on her.

"Remember; when I'm not here, you're the man of the house! It's up to you to keep your mother and sister safe, you hear?" Kyrian, his father, before he left on one of his hunting trips.

"Fight…"

"Strong…"

"Safe…"

"Fight…"

"Strong…"

"Safe…"

"Fight!"

"Strong!"

"FIGHT!"

His eyes snapped back to the real world, still frozen in time, and then narrowed. He gripped the handle of his sword with both hands and willed the blazing power remaining in his left eye down his arm as time began to spin again. The tight flaming cloak became an unruly violet and indigo blaze as the blade was filled with more power than it could contain. The sword was drawn back to his right as the arrows drew every inch closer and with an animalistic roar, he swung, forcing every inch of his power out of the blade. A blazing arc of purple flames carved its way through the air, meeting the incoming arrows, turning the wood to ashes and tips to shrapnel slag as the flames burned away the very atoms that formed them and releasing their energy as tiny explosions that forced them apart. The flames didn't stop there as they kept travelling, tearing the bodies of the assembled guards in two, as if a huge red-hot blade had cleaved them in half. The captain only barely escaped that fate as his golden weapon took the brunt of the force, absorbing as much power as it could before it cracked. Still, two deep cuts scored deep into his hips, forcing him to his knees. James could feel an onset of exhaustion from his release, but fought through it as he walked closer to the kneeling captain.

"H-how?! The Nether star in my Holy Rectifier was supposed to negate your demonic powers! How!?" he stammered and growled, trying to scramble away, his 'holy' weapon forgotten. James just fixed him with a cold stare that promised nothing less than brutal murder. He picked up the discarded weapon and it reacted to his touch. The golden colour evaporated from the strange metal frame underneath as its angelic design became more angular and dark. The ground cracked and a torrent of salt-sized crystals, a dark purple almost black, fused to the new weapon and gave it a new, sleek black sheen. His mind's eye, or rather his void-given instincts, recognised it as Obsidian, the so-called Cursed Stone, un-mineable to but the hardest of pickaxes and imbued with the innate power to link the Overworld and the Nether.

"You claim to fight demons when you can't recognise the power of the void. No good, no evil, just the darkness that brings light. Even your own weapons betray you when faced with it. Now you can face the flames of the void and Burn."

With that he grabbed the fleeing man's ankle and dragged him backwards until he grabbed his whole foot and twisted it with a sharp movement. The bone snapped with a sickening crack, and the agony the captain felt was known though his scream. He tried to lash out, but James just grabbed his hand and snapped his wrist, so the captain fell back screaming anew. His power all but expended, James knew he couldn't sustain his Ender body for long as he felt small portion of his own wrist turn to ash. The captain went cold as the ashen flesh fell, laying witness to daunting sight beneath. He was looking straight into the infinite darkness of the Void itself, filling James' flesh as muscles and bones would. Ashen smoke poured from the cracks spreading from the hole, giving the monster before him and even more horrifying, wraith-like appearance and it sparked a primal fear within him. Rocks, rubble, even small knives were hurled franticly at James as he slowly approached, until a small brick connected with his forehead and threw his back. A small grin appeared on the captain's face, but quickly disappeared and turned to pure terror when his head turned back. Almost half of his decaying face was torn off, revealing a blackened skull with animalistic fangs and a dim violet light in his exposed socket. He roared and strode closer, and the captain whimpered in terror, eyes wide, until a smoking, ashen and bony hand grabbed his throat and lifted him up.

"This game is over, and your life is forfeit. Now suffer." James snarled as he shifted his hand slightly, so that his fingers were digging into his lower jaw and, with his free hand, tore out the captain's throat. As he began to sputter and choke on his own blood, James squeezed his body for the last ounce of power it could spare. The smoke emitted from his cracked body multiplied as a small violet flame danced down the arm still holding the man by his ravaged neck. The moment it reached the exposed flesh, the inferno ignited and flames tore down his throat. Flames poured from every opening as the captain burned alive in his own skin, screaming in total agony until it all went quiet. The smoking corpse dropped from James' grip and his ender body turned to ash.

Tears stained James face as he stumbled forward and he fell to his knees, his head in his hands as he sobbed softly. And then he screamed: He screamed for innocence lost; He screamed for the death of those closest to him. He screamed until he couldn't scream any more. And it went black.

When he woke, James was gone. He had been consumed by the flames that burned away his village and many others; in his place was the nameless avatar of revenge that would fall upon the church so many years later. He had no idea of who he was anymore or why he was even still alive, but he knew his purpose: Revenge, and Retribution.

Slowly his memories returned, but not all of them. The trauma had sealed away the most precious thing in his life, so that he would focus on his task. His path of blood had already begun; he just needed to learn how to walk it.

A/N: That's that for the chapter, next up is the Mistral City Assault and disaster strikes Freedom's Wings. For those of you interested in my other work, I shall be ending my poll and starting my next story on 2:30PM GMT, Friday (the day after this was posted), so get your votes in while you can. The reason is…

I'm putting this story on a Hiatus for a short time as I focus on my other works, because it is starting to become a drag for me. I'm sorry for my regular readers, especially the ones that have been with me from the beginning (especially IHateCliffhangerz, thank you mi domina). My posting speed was atrocious enough as it was, but now it's going to suffer even more.

Sorry, but that's all for now, ReaperAsOfLate