Blue-green slime hurtled from the throat of a new body. It dripped down the chin as the eyes of a new boy awakened.
"Was it done just as I requested?" A voice called from the mouth dripping with slime. Another voice came from a dark corner,
"Domri found the body you spoke of and I used it to make most of your flesh, the rest is a thin mizzium plate under the skin, as requested. It was made pliable and the bones will survive the shifting."
"What about the ring?"
"I infused it into your blood, after liquefying it, of course."
"Thank you, Hampton," Wilson said, looking into the eyes of his savior, "I really do mean it." Hampton's only response was a cold,
"they're waiting for you upstairs, and my debt is repaid." And with that, she strode up the stairs, never looking back down to him. Wilson dawned a red shirt, his black vest, a brown D-ring belt, and on old hat that had been retrieved from his other corpse. It was a black fedora, or so it was called on earth. His friends Wesly and gabby used to steal it from him, and he would have to tear I from their hads just to make it to class on time. Those days were easy, and full of fun. He didn't have to plan a war. He climbed up the stairs on his hands and knees, and scarcely made it to his chair on a table of the guilds. There were ten others there. The eight remaining guild leaders, Domri and his shield-sister Katherine.
"Before we begin everyone must know hat the enemy will be upon us in a matter of hours, if not less. We are here to discuss strategy, not to decide who leads," Wilson said.
"I have already ensured their allegiances," Kathrine added.
"Good. Then let us begin. The Gruul will form the vanguard..." Wilson said, continuing to discuss their battle plan until it was fully formed. The Gruul would form the vanguard, followed by the Boros, Rakdos, and Golgari. The Azorious would form the rearguard, followed by the Simic, Selesnia, and Orzhov. They would prevent the Izzet and possibly House Dimir from charging them from the back. Wilson turned his head to Domri, and suddenly his eyes lie with shock.
"Next time you're going to impersonate someone, pick someone alive." Wilson said as he leapt from his chair and transformed into a werewolf upon will, striking down Lazav, the Dimir mastermind. He sank his claw. Deep into his face and cut the flesh down to his skull, all the while biting down on his throat with a jaw made of darksteel. Wilson kicked the body down the hall and returned to his chair, not a drop of blood on him.
"When Bolas lands what defensive position do we take?" Aurelia asked.
"You don't. You rush him and you get to him before he can hit you aggressively." Wilson replied.
"What if he flees?" Borgy grunted, shifting in his chair.
"I have prepared for that as well. There is an army of titans on the other side of the point at which he will land. They are led by an indestructible robot, commonly called a myr, and I will most likely be charging from that side with them." Wilson responded.
"Very well," Borgy said, "let us prepare."
The march to reach the landing zone of bolas was long, but eventually they reached it. Wilson's morals stemmed to slip from his chest, and his thoughts constantly returned to Chandra.
"Hey, you alright?" Katherine asked, concerned about how he would fare in the battle ahead.
"I sacrificed her just for an edge on Bolas. But, that's not what bothers me. What bothers me is that she's just a number. Her death is just another in the genocides I caused, she'll just fade awa-" Katherine left a sharp red mark on Wilson's face.
"You need to keep your mind clear! I can't lose you and these people need you! You did what you had to and it was necessary!" Wilson simply nodded and continued marching. A chronarch came rushing up to him, heaving and red-faced.
"Wesly," he huffed a few times, "was looking into this. You might need it. The chronarch hurried off into the distance. The tablet he had been handed was square, but the runes were distinct.
"Doorway to nothingness..." Wilson muttered, shocked that the artifact still existed. He rushed it under his robes and marched on. He would let no one else die.