Firstly, Happy New Year everyone! We've now passed the six-year anniversary of this story too! Which really isn't an achievement considering the long hiatuses and all but we'll treat it as a sort of good thing regardless. I wish I could have had this chapter done so I could have released it on the anniversary date but I got caught up with some other fanfic stuff I hope to start properly soon and some of my own personal writing. And just some plain laziness too of course.
But all right then, on we go to Chapter 51. Wow, can't believe this story has been so long. Kind of weird in retrospective. It definitely ballooned out more than originally intended. Apologies for the delay, though this chapter is nearly just as long as the last one. Honestly, this just because I feel like I have a lot I want to add to the character of Simon, just like Blaze last chapter. A big part of Pull Back the Curtain was reconciling how I write my characters now with how I used to write them. As a result, I was using those flashbacks to re-contextualize Blaze as a character and also add some new depth to her. I also procrastinated like hell on this chapter for reasons I'm not quite sure myself. So again, sorry for the delay. Though with how this is tracking, we'll be finished by May hopefully if I stick to one chapter a month. Which…I mean…could be worse. Anyways, on to the lovely review responses.
Eternal Nexus Warrior: To be fair, I don't usually bust out 2000 word chapters. Then again, this one is also pretty long XD. Sometimes you just happen to have a lot of ground to cover. Honestly, a chapter's length should be based on the content that needs to be covered. There's nothing wrong with a short chapter as long as it achieves what it needed to and doesn't feel like it's beating round the bush. In other words, I try not to unnecessarily stretch out chapters because that would just be padding. I also try not to write superfluous short chapters anymore (something early chapters in this story suffer from to be honest). Either way, I'd argue managing an average of 6000 words per chapter is pretty good so I wouldn't be too worried. Anyways, yes, Viper is dead. This was always going to happen in some form or another from the moment he was introduced. And you are correct; the name does originate from the Yu-Gi-Oh! GX character. At least, if my memory is correct that's where I got the name. I started this story long ago that I can't really remember some stuff. That's what happens when you take such long times to update LOL. Also, five reviews to go. It'll be interesting to see where this ends up overall.
Omega Darkseid: You are correct, 2200 words in a chapter is something to behold. I surprise myself sometimes XD. Yeah, Viper's endgame was always going to be a double-cross, and it was going to be Blaze for a long time now. Her paranoia of him and him finally revealing his true colours was always the endpoint for their arc and solidified Viper as a side-villain for this story even if he only really did one or two villainy things since he was undercover for a lot of the story. His legacy will have an impact later however I should note.
Silverish-WhiteOtter: I must agree with you, it has indeed improved. Happy to see you thought the chapter was great too. Season 2 is in an interesting place currently. You'll know more about it once we get to the end of this current story. Honestly, I'm not surprised that you've changed Mana as a character over the years. I think everyone is almost always fine-tuning their OCs as time goes on. I know I'd write Max differently now if I started this story this year. That makes it an interesting challenge writing them though. Because I've slowly tried to in-story change Max to make him more how I want him to be even though that doesn't entirely line-up with my original vision of him. Even some of the OCs in this story I'm changing up (Blaze being the obvious example from last chapter). Also, I very much appreciate the offer about willing to hear any ideas. I may indeed take you up on that offer in the future.
All right, it's time to get into things. Right now we're about to see Simon take center stage to fight Hermes. We're inching closer and closer to the finale. But first, Simon must overcome his fears and defeat the Chaos Messenger. Remember to REVIEW as always if you feel like it or have something to say or comment on. Hope you all enjoy. Oh, and thank you to galaxykingcaycay for favouriting and following this story. Always nice to know that there's new readers around. Now, on to the chapter!
Chapter 51: The Brave and the Bold
-In the Not Too Distant Past
"There is something not quite right about that boy," Griff warned as Simon closed his bedroom door behind him. The boy glanced at the spirit before yawning and slumping down onto his bed.
"You say that about everybody," Simon couldn't help but comment with a smirk as he turned over onto his left hand side whilst trying to get into a comfortable sleeping position.
"You saw the power of that boy's final attack," Griff pressed as he purposefully hovered over his master, arms folded. He glared down at Simon with narrowed eyes. "There's something more going on here than meets the eye."
Simon couldn't help but roll his eyes as he yawned again and waved the spirit away. "Dude…seriously," he said tiredly. "I don't think it's that big of a deal. I thought it was pretty impressive too. But I wouldn't go as far to say it's anything worth investigating."
Griff frowned in response. "Why did you decide to challenge that boy in the first place?"
Simon groaned as he turned over to look up at his friend. He spread his arms and legs wide for maximum comfort before speaking. "The dude said he couldn't sleep. I told you already that he had a nightmare, screamed so loud that the entire dorm probably woke up and then I found him in the courtyard. He looked like he needed something to occupy his thoughts and a bey battle seemed like a good idea."
"Is that all?" Griff huffed with narrowed eyes.
"You know me," Simon replied quickly. "I'm a nice guy. I help people out when they seem like they might be in trouble."
"He could see me though," Griff pushed as he floated down closer to Simon. "No one else has ever had that ability. Don't you think this is something to look into?"
Simon genuinely considered this for a moment. "You are right that it is peculiar that he could see you…but…he seemed just as shocked as you and I were. He hasn't encountered spirits before. So it's unlikely we'd learn anything from talking to him. And it's not like we can just go and talk to someone about it either. You and Drake have always been a mystery."
Griff looked at Simon for the longest time before floating over to the chair near Simon's desk and sitting in it. "I just don't like this."
Simon sat up to look at his spirit partner with confusion written across his face. "What don't you like exactly?"
"The Academy."
"What about it you don't like?" Simon couldn't help but ask. His curiosity had been peaked. "I mean…I think it's pretty good. I've always liked the idea of going to a boarding school and so far everything seems to be in order. Food here is great. There are plenty of nice people around. The facilities are all clean and intact. What's not to love?"
Griff looked away. "Drake and I have sensed something here…something wrong. It's hard to describe…it's like a sensation or a scent. But we can both sense it. It's weak or maybe vague…but there's definitely something here. And it unnerves us. Just promise me you'll be careful."
Simon grinned as he lay back down and folded his hand behind his head. "Come on Griff," he stated confidently. "It's me. I can take on anything that comes my way. I reckon you're just being paranoid. I was scared when I first saw you and Drake but you both turned out to be fine. So stop worrying. This is going to be a good year."
He reached out to the lamp and flicked the switch off, bathing the room in darkness. He closed his eyes and almost immediately drifted off to sleep. Griff watched him for a few minutes before standing.
"You're a good kid Simon," the spirit murmured to himself as he vanished. "I hope that optimism of yours never fades. And as for there being nothing wrong…I sincerely hope you're right."
-The Present
The pebble hit the water. As expected, the calm surface of the water rippled outwards, disturbing its reflection. Simon watched grimly as his double vanished into blobs of colour. He waited till the water was still again and his reflection returned to cast another stone.
"Some say insanity is repeating the same action over and over and expecting a different result."
Simon brushed his hand through his hair as he turned to see his Griffin-Human hybrid spirit standing behind him, arms crossed. The spirit seemed concerned, a look of uncertainty in his eyes.
"I sense you are scared Simon," Griff stated after a moment. He looked up to see that his master had turned back to face the lake. "You cannot hope to remain here and let everything blow over."
"I don't intend to hide if that's what you're asking," Simon muttered back a little defensively, his voice noticeably a little on edge. He casually cast another stone into the water and watched it splash.
"Then what are you doing?" Griff asked as he slowly approached. "Casting pebbles over and over again doesn't exactly seem like some master grand plan for victory to me."
Simon bit his lip as he cast another stone, though his throws were getting more noticeably sloppy over time. He grabbed his injured wrist and looked down at the water. "I'm just getting my nerves together is all. There's a lot of pressure on me right now as you can probably guess."
Griff stood next to Simon and looked down at the water. Because he was just a spirit, he had no reflection to gaze into. There was almost a sadness to it all as he looked upon the empty space where he should have seen himself.
"I know you're afraid Simon," he said after a moment. "I can sense those emotions swirling around inside of you. But this is no time to delay the inevitable. Your nerves aren't going to go away in time. Your resolve isn't going to suddenly become as hard as steel. Sitting around here isn't going to help you. I'm not sure anything can help you."
Simon cursed as he violently threw his next rock into the water, watching the liquid splash up into the air from the impact. He followed this up by throwing rocks in at a rapid pace, disrupting the calm surface as much as he could. Griff watched calmly from beside him, continuing to stare down at where his reflection should have been. Finally, once Simon had exhausted all of his rocks he fell to his knees and lowered his head.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do Griff…" he said quietly. "I want to be brave but…I just can't be. This whole year has been nothing but an increasing amount of insanity…and I think it's finally all hitting me at once."
Griff finally looked to Simon and placed his talon-hand on the boy's shoulder. Being a spirit, he could not physically interact with the real world and thus, could only simulate the action by hovering his talon-hand at the right height to make it look like the two were touching.
In a sense, it was an empty gesture because existing on separate planes obviously separated the two, but perhaps the thought was ultimately more powerful and significant. Although he could not feel Griff, Simon could sense his presence and understand what his friend was doing without having to look up and see the talon-hand.
"I'm sitting here in the dirt in my pajamas," Simon joked darkly. "Whilst the world is about to end. I find it hard to even believe this is all really happening."
"I sense you need this time to vent," Griff noted. "If it'll help you in some way right now then perhaps it is best for you to proceed. The catharsis will be good for you."
Simon chuckled lightly in response as he rubbed his good hand through some dirt. "It's just…at first…it was easy to ignore the darker implications of everything. Yeah…some of it was pretty bad…horrific even…but when you've grown up hearing stories about Gingka Hagane and then suddenly you're in one of those stories…"
"The stories make everything seem less complicated," Griff interrupted with a light huff. "Legends have a habit of unintentionally glorifying and romanticizing horrors. So when you find yourself seemingly within one of your stories, it's easy to go into denial. To shut yourself off and turn a blind-eye to details you don't want to have to think about. But everyone has a breaking point. Death especially is a line not crossed without notice. Tonight has been very hard on you I sense."
"I just can't believe Max might really be gone," Simon sniffed back. "He was just always so optimistic and happy. It seemed like he could take anything and go through anything fine. He seemed invincible and now…"
"You wouldn't expect him to be the first one to fall in battle," Griff offered as he pulled back his talon-hand and sat down next to Simon. "But sometimes the ones you expect to live forever are the ones to die first. There is a saying I've heard that God grants his favourites early death."
Simon spat at the ground. "Was that supposed to make me feel better?" The bitterness in his tone was sharper than a knife, and he scowled at the ground for a moment before his expression softened. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I shouldn't be taking my anger out on you…you're just trying to help."
As I said," Griff continued, undeterred. "You clearly need this time to vent. Your anger is understandable."
Simon took a deep breathe before continuing. "It just feels like the walls are closing in on me. As I said, earlier on it was easy to ignore the implications of everything that was happening…but now…especially in the face of Max's potential death…all the pressure is on my shoulders."
"For the first time," Griff elaborated for him. "You truly understand the consequences. You understand what it means if you lose."
Simon looked away. "It's not just all of that…it's…I'm doubting whether I should be even here right now."
Griff seemed genuinely surprised by this and turned his head to the boy. "What do you mean?"
Simon sighed deeply as he picked up another stone and threw it into the water. He watched the splash with a hollow look in his eyes. His lip quivered as he spoke. "You saw what happened when I tried to stand up to Azrael? He snapped my wrist and I folded in an instant."
"Azrael is powerful Simon," Griff quickly returned. "Knowing when you're beat is not a sign of weakness. We still don't even quite know exactly what he is or what power he holds. Not backing down in the situation you were in would be a sign of foolishness if anything."
He reached out to Simon but the boy pulled away, not that it really mattered since the spirit was intangible. The Gryphos blader gripped his head for a moment before standing up and walking over to a tree. Leaning up against it, he grasped his injured wrist with his good hand and examined it.
"Don't you get it Griff?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "I'm terrified. I'm scared. I don't want to do this. I don't want to be here…"
Griff bowed his head. "You're afraid of losing. Afraid of dying." It wasn't phrased as a question.
Simon grinned grimly as he slid down the tree. He lowered his head in shame, letting his silver hair fall over his eyes. "I can't keep kidding myself anymore Griff," he sniffed, trying to keep himself together. But he could feel the tears coming on and could not do anything really to stop them. "I could die today. I'm supposed to go to that Monolith, fight whoever's there to the death probably and help save the world."
"Simon…" Griff started to say after a moment but trailed off, genuinely unsure what he wanted to say. By this point, Simon had curled up into the fetal position as he rested against the tree, crying quietly to himself.
"Please Griff…" the boy said through his tears. "Please don't make me go. I thought I was brave enough. But…I don't think I have the courage to do this. I'm not like the others. Like Mana even. She didn't have to say yes because she wasn't as apart of this like the rest of us. But she went anyway. I just don't have it in me…"
He looked up at his spirit partner, fear evident in his eyes. He was no longer a brave soldier fighting a war against Nemesis' Heir. He was just a kid way in over his head. A boy who just wanted to put his head down and wait for everything to blow over. His denial over the war in which he was fighting had finally worn off. Now that the full effects of it had sunk in, Simon's will to go on had collapsed.
"Please Griff…" he pleaded. "Please don't make me go. I don't want to die. I just want this to all be over."
"Simon," Griff huffed lightly as he walked over to the boy and stood over him. "There's nothing to be done now. I get it, you're scared. You can't take any more of this. But there's nowhere to run now. If you don't stand up and fight, no one will." He rubbed his eyes before continuing. "There is no choice here. You must fight today or everyone dies."
"I just…I don't think I can do this," Simon responded quickly through tears as he covered his face with his good hand. "I'm just a teenage boy and I'm being asked to fight not just for my life but for so many others. Do you understand the pressure I'm under right now?"
Griff closed his eyes. "Look…"
"Do you understand or not?" Simon snapped angrily. The spirit before him was startled and lost what he was going to say.
"If I lose we all lose," Simon snarled at Griff through gritted teeth. His sadness had suddenly turned to frustration and rage and he needed someone to take it all out on. "I'm just a kid. I'm just a fourteen-year-old kid! I have so much I want to do with my life and today might be the day that's all snuffed out. I'm being asked to bet my life on a game of Beyblade. Do you understand how ludicrous that all sounds? Do you?"
Simon's voice was now getting louder and louder with every sentence, the rage from within fuelling him to even stand up and stare right through his spirit partner with fury. "You know I don't believe in God. You know how much death scares me. Therefore you must also be aware of how terrified I am by the situation destiny has forced me into. If I lose, I don't know what's going to happen to me. I don't know if there's an afterlife or a heaven or hell or nothing. Nothing could terrify me more than being asked to confront my own mortality today. And yet," he spat out. "And yet, here I am."
He stepped forward quickly till he was face to face with the startled Griff who couldn't manage to find any words to respond with. "I've already seen one friend die tonight. I could very well be next. The world is on the brink of destruction. And I'm standing here in my pajamas. You tell me my reaction is uncalled for."
Griff looked at the silver-haired boy for the longest time before sighing in defeat. "You're right Simon. You're right to feel angry and scared. But our hands are metaphorically tied. We've been painted into a corner. Nothing I say can ultimately make you feel better. I see that now. Regardless, you have a job to do. We have a job to do. All I can offer you is my aid when the time comes."
Simon stepped back as the spirit began to fade away. "I think this is apart of growing up. Realizing that in life sometimes there are no easy answers."
Simon stared at the spot where Griff had once stood for a moment before turning his head to see the Monolith looming over him in the distance. It was still as large and ominous as always. It just stood there, fading into the dark background of the endless black sky. It's pointed top almost made it look like a weapon, as if it was going to launch itself into the sky and pierce the heavens. How fitting that the accursed structure looked like it was in defiance of God. A god Simon didn't believe existed mind you but the metaphor worked well enough regardless.
"Alright," he said after a moment, licking his dry lips. "If there is a God up there, please have mercy on my soul." With a grim expression on his face, he marched onwards to what he hoped wasn't his final resting place.
"Oh Max. There is no other side. This is it."
Maxwell "Max" Smith's eyes opened. He was lying on the ground. His usual outfit was on him. His belt and bey gear was strapped to his hip. His breathing was slow but steady. His hands had been placed over his belly, folded as if someone were preparing to lay him to rest. Of course, the boy found this thought unsettling and quickly pulled his hands away. He spread his arms and legs wide as he gazed into the endless void above him.
It was like a surrealist painting of the night sky. At first glance, one would assume they were somehow floating in space. After all, there was blackness everywhere and it stretched beyond what the eye could see. There were also the stars one could see in every direction they looked. But there was something off about the whole thing. The void was eerily silent but in a way that made it seem purposefully sinister. Max couldn't really describe it; he just knew the silence was wrong. The other issue was that the void ultimately didn't seem coherent. It was as if he could see the edges of something that wasn't really there, and so the space seemed to be just a little distorted in patches.
The other eerie thing was that Max felt calm. Unlike his other adventures in voids of some sort, he didn't feel immediately concerned about where he landed. Things were definitely off in this void like all the others, but it didn't come across as overtly hostile. His heart didn't start beating like crazy. He wasn't waiting for an attacker to emerge from nowhere to strike him. He wasn't waiting for disaster to strike. He felt…at peace.
He quickly realized he didn't really want to get up. He didn't really feel the need to do anything actually. He was surprisingly content with where he was. He could just lie there all day and watch the stars go past. It was so peaceful, so calm. And yet…he couldn't quite fully shake the feeling that something was off. The paranoia was still there in some form, nagging him in the back of his head. There was this concern that he was supposed to be doing something. Or that something was about to go horribly wrong.
Max pushed those feelings down. He was in a good state right now. Why ruin it with pointless worries and overthinking? Where he was right now was beautiful so long as you didn't think about it too hard. The view was spectacular; the air clean and there was no distractions for miles around. It was a paradise. Why would he want to leave? Why should he leave? He was happy here.
Or was he? Dammit. He had been thinking about it too long and now he was arguing with himself. He sat up after a moment and looked himself up and down. He seemed fine. But then he started trying to recall how he'd gotten here in the first place. And then it all came rushing back to him. Zygor had apparently begun his final preparations to bring forth Nemesis' Heir. Monoliths had risen from the ground. Jaden Grace had appeared before him and his friends, intent on saving her own life by taking one of theirs. Max had stepped forward to save Kiara and agreed to a battle to the death.
"Am I…dead…?" Max looked around with uncertainty now. Was this why this bizarre place felt so weirdly calming? Because it was a purgatory of some sort. Or an afterlife? Had Jaden killed him and sent him here? Is this what awaits everyone after death?
"OK," Max muttered to himself with uncertainty as he stood up and patted himself down. "I'm physically all here. Or…at the very least…what counts for physically in this plane of existence…I think. What am I supposed to do now?" He glanced around the void. "Could I really just lay here for eternity?"
He slapped his forehead suddenly to snap himself out of it. "Wait!" he proclaimed as he spun around. "But what if I'm not dead? What if this is a trap of some sort or a test? I can't really just sit here then can I?"
There was a moment of silence.
"Fuck!" he cursed, grasping the sides of his head in frustration. "Even if I am supposed to do something, how am I supposed to figure out what it is? There's nothing here to give me an indication of doing…well…anything. Hell, even if am dead and supposed to just accept this…there isn't exactly a sign telling me that either. You know, if this place is heaven, they really skimped out on the signage. And here I thought the creator(s) of the universe wouldn't be so cheap and/or lazy."
He looked down to the ground. "But…maybe this is all there is? Maybe I'm just supposed to lie down and enjoy the rest of eternity here. All alone." He grimly stared at the ground for a few seconds before slapping himself and shaking his head. "No, that can't be right. Surely this isn't all there it to it. Right?" He looked around with uncertainty. "How did I even get here?"
As he tried to focus, he suddenly developed a splitting headache. He fell to his knees, crying out in pain as he clutched his throbbing head. "That's… right," he said in strained bursts. "Jaden came back…and we had to battle…and whoever lost…would die…and my body couldn't…handle the shock…and I…"
The pain suddenly stopped. Max slowly removed his hands from his head and let them drop limply by his side. He stared into space for a while before speaking to himself. "I was losing." He gulped. "I remember falling down and closing my eyes. I just wanted it all to end." His head lowered with every word until he his gaze was directed at the ground. "I really am dead aren't I?"
"No," a voice interrupted. Max's head shot up and he looked around in confusion. "You're not dead yet anyway as far as I'm aware."
A figure suddenly emerged from the void. At first, there was only an outline, as if the void itself was warping and changing to form the being. The awkward blob eventually grew and expanded to have arms and legs and eventually a cape even. Then it began to grow features such as a face, ears, nose and mouth.
Max's mouth fell open. He had not seen this person since the end of The Battle of the Dorms tournament. "Luther? What are you doing here?"
The old man managed to smile as his body finally seemed to have finished forming. He looked himself up and down for a moment before resuming his conversation with Max.
"I'm not quite sure myself to be honest," he admitted with a shrug. "I don't even know where we are exactly?"
Max frowned and titled his head. "How did you get here if you don't know where here is?"
"That's the riddle of it all," was Luther's cryptic response. Max's expression soured and he comedically slapped himself in annoyance.
"Dude, seriously?"
"In all honesty I'm not entirely sure that I'm even here," Luther continued as he examined the void around him whilst stroking his chin.
"Urgh…how do you make less sense every time I see you?" Max groaned as he slumped his shoulders.
"Consider this for a second Max," Luther explained as he took the boy by the shoulders and forced him to stand up straight. "You might be dead. How do you know that I'm really here and that this isn't all happening inside your head? How do you know that you're not on the verge of dying and that this is just you hallucinating as your brain and body shuts down? How do you know you're not in some sort of limbo and that I'm just some sort of weird illusion that this place has created simply to comfort you? How can you be sure of anything?"
Max bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. "Um…" he took Luther's hand and removed them from his shoulders before taking a step back and wearily raising his arms as if expecting an attack. "Dude, wouldn't you know all of that considering you're…you know…you? Do you not know how you were sent here or anything? Or why you were sent here?"
Luther raised an eyebrow. "I'm just telling you everything I know Max. I don't know how I got here or why. I'm just trying to make some educated guesses."
"But you are a person right?" Max replied, skeptical. "You'd know if this was just happening inside my head or if you were an illusion because you wouldn't actually be a person."
"But if I'm programmed to be such a way then I wouldn't know," Luther returned with. "If either of those are true then it means I was created with the sole purpose of making it seem like the real Luther was here and thus, I wouldn't be aware of the nature of my own existence."
Max groaned and rubbed his head. "My brain hurts and I think I've gone cross-eyed. But wait…why did you jump to the conclusion that I might be dead in some form of another if you don't know what's happening?" He grinned smugly, believing he'd outsmarted the existential questions put forth. Unfortunately, Luther had a counter.
"Again," he reiterated. "If I was programed per say to be here, I'd have that knowledge. Especially if you are dead. Alternatively, I gave it on some gut feeling. Like maybe I was told beforehand of my mission but had the specific memory erased for some unknown reason. Either way, it still leaves my being here a bit up in the air."
"I guess I am starting to lean towards the 'this is all just happening inside my head' explanation," Max admitted with a shrug. "Near-death experience maybe. I'd probably prefer that to death at this point to be fair. So what do we do though?"
"I guess find a way to get you back to the land of the living," was all Luther could suggest. "I don't know what's going on here anymore then you do. Heck, you might be manifesting me right now subconsciously so you simply have someone to talk to."
Max narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "The fact that you keep talking like that either makes it seem you're hiding something or that you're right. But if I made you like this to help calm myself and starve off insanity or whatever, why would you keep hinting at your own existence in such a way… argh…my headache is coming back from all of this."
"There's a pretty simple answer to your question Max," Luther responded as he folded his hands behind his back. "You know deep down that I'm not here but another part of your brain is telling you different so there's a conflict of interest. Your brain is fighting between believing what it wants to believe and accepting reality. Hence, in the scenario where this is what's happening, you see me and are taking to me but also keep having to doubt whether my existence is definite."
Max face-palmed himself. "Alright…enough debating with myself…or you or whatever!" He threw his arms up in frustration and crossed his arms in annoyance. "Let's just try and figure something out. And here mum wanted me to do a philosophy course. I knew she was crazy for suggesting such a thing."
"So did you want to fill me in on exactly what happened before…well," Luther gestured to the void. "This all happened?"
Max looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Wasn't that what the Orb of Vision was for?" he asked bitterly. "You could view our world (mostly) through it and all? Explain that one?"
Luther grinned. "Do you assume I spend all my time spying on you or something? That would be a bit stalkerish wouldn't it? I do not want to know what you get up to in the shower or anything like that."
"Aright fair point," Max scowled as he turned away from the older man. "So, a bunch of Monoliths rose out of the ground on the island. Jaden Grace showed back up. Turns out she was alive but barely and wanted to kill Kiara to sustain her life. I stepped in, and we ended up agreeing on a battle to the death." He looked back to Luther to confirm the old man was following. He nodded to indicate Max could continue. "Unfortunately, the battle field required us to wear these chains that would suck our energy as the battle went on. I couldn't use my Order powers and the sudden loss of energy made my body go into shock and then…nothing."
"I can see why you might think you're dead," Luther admitted. "That all does sound very…like you're dead."
"Not helping man!" Max snapped in annoyance. "We need to find a way out of here. Or perhaps back to the land of the living if that's what we're dealing with."
"You don't seem to be all that concerned that you're potentially dead," Luther couldn't help but note as the two began to walk, hoping they'd stumble upon something that could help them in the void.
"Well…" Max replied as he tried to find the right words. "I mean…you're dead and you ended up in the Realm of Order. If I'm really dead and ended up here…its sort of comforting to know that there is an afterlife or something. Or maybe this place could be better described as limbo."
"But doesn't the uncertainty make it scary?" Luther continued. "You might not be dead. This might be just be where you go when you almost die. Or you're just inside your own head." Max grunted in agreement. "But doesn't the idea that you're perhaps close to dying cause you any stress?"
Max rubbed his arm sheepishly. "I mean…I guess…" Damn, why was he having such a problem grinning today? "I tend not to think of death and my mortality too much. I mean…I'm only a teenager…I have other things to think about. And really, I don't think anyone wants to get too caught up on thinking about their ultimate fate."
"Sometimes I think you might be a bit wiser than people give you credit for," Luther noted with a hint of amusement as he looked down at the shorter boy. "That being said, I might be you, so you could argue that this is just you being self-congratulatory."
"Way to deflate the compliment," Max said with a roll of his eyes. Suddenly they both stopped because a door had materialized before them. "We've been walking in this direction for ages. We would have seen the door prior to this. Unless I'm even more unobservant than people say I am."
Luther stroked his beard as he approached and then examined the door. It was fairly standard in design, brown oak with a black doorknob. There didn't seem to be anything to be weary of and yet the door simply being there felt weirdly ominous. Just like the void, it felt calm and peaceful at the same time as feeling oddly eerie.
"Do you think this is it?" Max asked after a moment. Unlike Luther, he had remained rooted to where he was and hadn't approached the door at all. He was staring intently at it, almost as if he was expecting the door to pull out a gun and shoot him.
"It would appear so," Luther replied as he slowly raised a hand and knocked on the door. The sound echoed out but the door remained still. Wherever it went to, there was no answer on the other side.
"I don't like this," Max admitted as he bit his lip and clenched up his body. "This all feels a little too convenient. We want a way out and then a door appears. Heck, maybe you showing up is convenient too. What if I'm being played? I could be walking to my actual death or something."
Luther considered this as he folded his arms. "That is a possibility. But at the same time, this void seems endless. There isn't an end in sight. Even the ground we stand on isn't exactly a ground per say. You can see the void below us after all. There isn't truly an up or down or a right or left. The stars we can see don't even stay in the same place. They move as we do. I've been watching carefully. I don't think there is another way out. Perhaps the door did just appear because you wanted it to. But perhaps that's the point. You have the option to leave."
"Right…" Max swallowed hard as he slowly walked towards the door. Although the void was absolutely silent, he felt as if he could hear his footsteps anyway. His breathing seemed unusually louder. The door seemed to be beckoning him to approach. There was like a sucking noise that he was certain was only being picked up by his ears. And it was getting louder and more violent. Violent like how a group of bees or wasps might sound when their hive or nest was disturbed.
But when he reached the door the sound stopped. Everything went silent again. His right hand twitched, as if eager to take the doorknob and see what was on the other side. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. His eyes searched the door for some sort of flaw or indication that something was off. His paranoia had never been this high, but he felt uneasy about all of this. Or was that the void trying to trick him into staying? Was it tempting him by making freedom appear wrong and dangerous? Was this all just some big mind game? Luther, if it was even really him, was in on it too perhaps? Were they all here to encourage him to leave or to stop him? Or both? Or was this really just all in Max's head trying to rationalize his feelings and decisions?
"Fuck, my head hurts," he swore as he grabbed his head with both hands again. "Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?"
"Perhaps it isn't," Luther spoke out. The Swordsman blader ignored him but he chose to continue regardless. "Perhaps you've simply been presented with a choice. You can either stay here or leave. There are only two options. You're making it seem complicated because you're conflicted. The complication arises from you not wanting to make a choice. Thus, in your own mind, you make it seem convoluted so justify how tough it is to decide."
"Yeah…. no," Max shot back as he finally turned to look at the older man. "I don't know where I am or what the circumstances are. So there simply being two options doesn't suddenly make this all not complicated. There are so many factors and variables to consider that are just unknown."
"That is also true," Luther conceded with a bow of his head. "Or perhaps that's just how you've decided it to be in your head. Maybe you do know what's happening but you secretly don't want to go back so you create a scenario where everything seems uncertain."
Max's eyes glazed over. "Fuck this cryptic shit," he groaned to himself. "I'm just picking something and going." He grabbed the doorknob and twisted. The door creaked open revealing nothing but blackness. "Well…that doesn't look ominous at all," he deadpanned.
"Good luck on wherever it takes you I suppose," Luther said with a nod. "If you do get back to where you need to be, I also wish you luck on stopping Nemesis' Heir. You're likely going to need it."
"Your lack of movie references makes me think you really aren't Luther," Max couldn't help but comment as he looked at the man questioningly.
Luther shrugged and gave a sly smile. "Hasn't really been a moment for one," he pointed out. "Or, I'm not actually Luther and that's why. Who knows? Nothing seems certain here. Perhaps that's the point. You don't know and you're not supposed to ponder on it too much. Perhaps the question you should be asking is why you may not want to go back?"
Max looked at him for the longest time, apparently legit caught off guard by the question. "I don't know…" he admitted sadly. "I'm pretty sure I want to go back. I don't want to be dead. I know I have a job to do too. But…maybe there's something appealing about just relaxing here and not having any worries. Perhaps there's something peaceful about death. I thought I loved living. I mean…I do love living. But when I first got here…it was just so peaceful. It was incredible. Fuck…I'm questioning everything now. My headache is coming back too."
"Perhaps it's something to think about once you step through the door," Luther offered calmly as he put a hand on Max's shoulder as he stood a little behind him.
Max gulped as he peered into the darkness on the other side of the door. "Wish me luck. If it turns out this door actually leads to death or something…I'll see you on the other side maybe."
Luther smiled sadly suddenly. "Oh Max," he said. "There is no other side. This is it."
"Excuse me?" Max questioned with a frown. As he turned to question the old man on this statement however, Luther used the hand he had on the boy's shoulder to push him through the door. Max screamed silently as he fell into the unknown. He couldn't feel anything as he fell, not even gravity. Was he even falling then? All he could do was scream where no sound existed. Where no feeling existed. Where nothing existed. He didn't know it but he was vanishing. First his feet and legs went, then his arms and chest. Within a moment his head was gone too. Maxwell "Max" Smith ceased to exist.
Hello darkness my old friend.
Simon moved at a decent pace. But his walking wasn't steady. His movements lacked conviction, and his steps seemed to shift from side to side on the path as if to waste time. In truth he really was trying to waste time. He wasn't thinking about how in reality he should have been in a hurry. How time in fact was quite short. The end of the world was at hand and he was…casually strolling to his destination. It wasn't nearly as epic or dramatic as it perhaps should have been.
Simon was content with this though. He didn't really want to reach his destination. He didn't want to face what was at the end of the path. But he also knew he'd have to eventually do what needed to be done. So he decided to meet this problem halfway by walking at a slow pace. The only issue was, it meant he was alone with his thoughts. And his thoughts weren't exactly pleasant. They were pretty dour and depressing actually all things considered. His fears and paranoia and insecurities were all floating around in his brain, mixing together like some toxic concoction.
"Stop dragging your feet," a voice snarled at him from behind. Simon didn't flinch nor react to the sudden appearance of this figure. He kept walking at his gradual pace undeterred in fact. The dragon-human spirit scoffed at the boy's silence.
"You can't ignore me Simon," Drake added as he floated in front of him in an attempt to force him to converse. Simon seemed to be looking straight through the spirit though as if he wasn't there. This was particularly difficult to do since Drake had a human body with scaly skin, clawed hands, wings and a long snout and horns. Was pretty hard not to flinch when you saw that. No offense to dragon-human hybrids of course.
"If you want to talk about something, it better be one hell of a conversation," Simon said after a moment. "That's all I'll say."
"Don't try my patience," Drake threatened, quick to temper as usual. Unlike Griff who always had a more calm and collected approach to things, this spirit was known to be easily set off. "I'm trying to help you so try not to run that mouth of yours too much."
"Aye, aye captain!" Simon replied sarcastically with a mock salute before reassuming his tired expression and slack posture. "Anything else you wanted to say?"
"You're very lucky I'm intangible," Drake snorted as he showed his razor sharp teeth. "Or else I might be tempted to knock some sense into you."
"Ah," Simon laughed mockingly. "Physical abuse. I'm sure that's totally been an effective method to helping people in the long-term. You really know what you're doing don't you?"
"Alright, what is you deal?" huffed Drake as he folded his arms and floated along in front of Simon. "I've seen you in some bad moods but nothing like this. You're never been shaken to this extent."
"First time for everything I suppose," was Simon's response with a shrug. "People change. And in drastic times drastic things can happen. End of the world for you I guess." He walked straight through Drake when the spirit stopped moving in reaction.
"Stop this Simon," Drake stated firmly. It wasn't quite a demand, and in fact, the restraint the usually fiery spirit was showing here was sort of frightening. He remained facing away from the boy and thanked God when he heard Simon's footsteps stop. He remained facing away from Drake just as the spirit did for him.
"There's nothing left to talk about," Simon insisted. "I said everything that I needed to say to Griff. Talking isn't going to change anything at this point. All we'll end up doing is arguing in circles. So unless you have some new information to inform me of, there's nothing to discuss."
"You're coming at this from the wrong mindset," Drake retorted quickly. "You're letting your pessimism and frustration with this scenario dominate your emotions. You cannot walk into the coming contest feeling this way. Your mind needs to be calm. This is no time to let your feelings cloud your judgment."
Simon barked out a laugh before falling to his knees in hysteria. He gripped his stomach, hurting from the sheer amount of laughing he was doing. Drake finally turned to face the boy, stunned by his reaction.
"You're killing me here Drake," Simon cackled. "You are impulsive and so easily enraged. And you're going to float there and judge me on letting my emotions run wild." He looked over his shoulder and shot the spirit a sly smile. "It's a bit late to take the moral high ground isn't it?"
"This isn't the time for fooling around!" snapped Drake as he floated right up to Simon. The dragon-human wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. He had been trying his best to actually restrain himself for once, but Simon was pushing all the wrong buttons.
"You want to know why I'm like this?" Simon bit out with an acidic tone. He stood up and glared directly at his spirit-partner. "Look around Drake!" he waved his arms in the air crazily, gesturing for exaggerated effect. "Seriously, look around you Drake! The world is on fire! The academy has become a battleground! Max is dead! I'm about to fight a battle to the death! I might die! You get that? I could die tonight! I'm only fourteen so of course I'm fucking terrified! I already said this all to Griff! I don't want to be here anymore! I want to run and hide and cry! I wish I had listened to you two at the start of the year and hadn't come here! But I've made my bed, and now I have to lay in it! So forgive me if I'm a little on edge! Forgive me if my emotions are currently a bit all over the place! But I'm a fucking teenager about to fight for the world and his life! So don't fucking tell me I can't feel scared or terrified or angry right now! I reckon I'm being pretty reasonable all things considered!"
The two stood there for a moment with only Simon's heavy breathing being heard. Drake was frozen in place, watching the boy who he had watched grow up from a young age in a new light. He didn't recognize Simon Nikso anymore. Something had happened over this year. Something had finally snapped within the boy.
"So unless you can magically fix all of this or suppress all the emotions I'm going through right now!" Simon berated him. "Just shut up! OK? Just shut up! Because I can't deal with all of this shit right now!"
He turned and stormed away, once again fuming with anger and frustration. This just had not been his day. He tried his best to see the silver lining, he really did. But he just couldn't put a smile on his face. He couldn't do what Max could do and smile through the darkness. He couldn't keep kidding himself. Everything had gone to shit and he was going to be mad about it.
Drake watched him walk off with tried and sad eyes. "Friedrich Nietzsche from Beyond Good and Evil." Simon paused, genuinely taken off-guard by the sudden reference. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched Drake fade away as he spoke. "Whoever fights with monsters should see to it that he does not become a monster in the process. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."
Simon swore under his breath before he continued his walk. He didn't look back. Instead he took out Gryphos and began examining the bey over. He went over every edge and part of it to distract himself. Now that he was getting closer and closer to the monolith, he could feel his heart beating faster. The sounds around him suddenly seemed to become sharper. Every twig snap, every bush rustle seemed to set him off. He hugged his bey like a teddy bear as he kept look out with wide eyes like an owl.
Hermes stood at the base of the monolith, grinning like the devil. His hood was currently up, obscuring his face from Simon's perspective. As soon as he noticed the man, the boy stiffened and his walking ceased. He stared at Hermes absolutely too terrified to do anything else. Seeing the looming monolith up close also added to how intimidating everything looked.
"Come closer child," Hermes called out with a small laugh. "Closer I say," he added when Simon remain rooted to the spot. Still the boy did not move. Hermes was now feeling even better; his confidence could not be anymore bolstered.
'This boy?' he sneered in thought. 'This boy is the one they send to defeat me? This shall be one spectacular fight.'
He pulled down his hood so that Simon could see his face now and gave a small wave. "Mr Nikso!" he called out. "If you wish to run, now would be the time. If not, simply standing there does nothing but waste precious time. Time that you and your friends cannot afford to waste. Every second you lose means more chance an innocent soul is taken." His lip curled up when he noticed Simon growl and clench a fist. "That's it my boy. Use that anger to fight. The only way to stop all of this is to defeat me in a ritual battle." He spread his arms wide. "So, will you step into the arena of death? Two men enter, one man leaves. Make your choice."
Simon breathed heavily as he slowly began to walk to his side of the arena. He tried not to look at Hermes or the monolith in the sky, finding the imagery too intimidating for his likening. So he kept his eyes down at the ground, watching his feet creep closer and closer to the inevitable. But was that inevitable victory or death?
"Allow me to introduce myself!" Hermes declared as he bowed dramatically before pulling out his launcher. "I am Hermes – The Messenger of Chaos! Loyal disciple of Lord Zygor and follower of Nemesis' Heir!" He pulled out his bey and attached it. "Thus, my bey is Chaos Messenger! Based off the Greek God himself, I will help lead this world into a new age. The Greek Gods faded from this world, and they will soon return in the new reign."
Simon swallowed hard as he slowly pulled out his launcher. He looked at Gryphos for the longest time before attaching it at last. However, unlike Hermes, he didn't move into a combative stance and instead let his arms hang at the sides.
"So how does this all work?" he croaked out. He still wasn't really looking at his opponent, instead focusing on a spot to the man's right on the ground.
"It's quite simple," Hermes explained. "Souls are a very valuable energy source. Bey battles are a clashing of the souls. When executed properly, the energy they generate is exponential. Our battle shall aid in the resurrection of Nemesis' Heir. Of course, doing nothing will matter little as the monoliths act as conduits to absorb souls. The only way to stop this is to defeat me. So, are you ready?"
Simon bit his lip as his hands shook slightly. His injured wrist from earlier seemed a little twitchy too. He growled to himself, trying to push through his fears. He stood up straight and prepared to launch. "Fine. Let's get this over with. If I win, I live. I lose, I die."
"Is that not but life," Hermes mocked in return, his British accent reaching new levels of obnoxiousness. "Every second something new happens. Maybe that will lead to death. Or maybe we'll keep living. Every moment of our lives is a roll of the dice. So, let's see who the dice comes up better for."
"…Right," Simon replied with unease. "Let's go."
"Three!" cried Hermes.
"Two!" added Simon a bit half-heartedly.
"One!" they declared together.
"Let it rip!"
The two beys spun into the arena but didn't immediately choose to clash. Instead, they both seemed to remain at their own side of the arena as if having a good old western standoff.
"A glorious new era will begin here!" laughed Hermes as he flung his arm into the air. The monolith shook as the symbols on it lit up and a blue beam burst from it's pointed top and hit the dark sky. Simon watched in horror as the sky turned blue and began to swirl around the large structure like a storm. Blue lightning even crackled throughout the sky. "The age of a better world!"
"Get him Gryphos!" Simon called out in a panic, flinging his arm out. "Knock Messenger out of the arena with a single blow." His bey surged forward, building up power as it crossed the arena to get to its opponent.
Hermes simply grinned at all of this as he ran a hand through his spiky hair. "Special Move: Pillars of Destiny!"
The ground began to rumble, throwing Gryphos off course before thick, stone pillars shot out of the ground and covered the entire arena. Simon could barely see Hermes now through everything and had even completely lost track of Messenger in the maze of pillars.
"What the heck is this?" Simon groaned in annoyance.
"Strategy of course," Hermes explained smugly. "You don't really think I wouldn't have planned this all out? This is my moment to shine. It will be a monumental moment in history and I want to make it as grand as possible. I've been preparing for this grand battle for a long time now. I want the history books to have a grand story to tell."
"Whatever," Simon waved him off. "It doesn't change anything. I'll just break through all of this! Let's heat things up Gryphos! Special Move: Burst Blast!"
Gryphos lit itself on fire as it began charging around the arena at high speeds before it charged headfirst into a pillar, smashing it apart. "Now knock them all down!" Simon cried as he pointed forward, commanding his bey to destroy all the stone structures.
"Interesting strategy," Hermes couldn't help but comment as he watched the opposing bey rip through all the pillars, clouding their surroundings in dust and ash. "But you're also leaving yourself wide open to an attack!"
Simon's eyes widened in shock. "What?"
"Begin your assault Chaos Messenger!" ordered Hermes as his bey finally emerged. As Gryphos was busy slamming through pillars, an angelic being with a bow and arrow emerged onto the field. "Special Move: Chaos Arrow Shot!" Clearly based on the Greek God Hermes, this being took aim with its bow and arrow and launched the projectile at Gryphos.
"Get out of the way!" Simon cried in desperation, but it was too late. The arrow hit its mark and exploded on impact, sending Gryphos flying through the air and crashing into the floor of the arena. The explosion was so shockingly large that it fractured the structure of all the remaining pillars and they all collapsed in on themselves, blanketing everything in thick grey dust.
Simon held a hand over his mouth and eyes to stop any ash from getting into his face. He waited a moment for the dust to settle before looking up at the arena, desperately scanning it for any sign of his bey. Panic was setting in. He couldn't have lost this early surely? He coughed through some ash as he cried out to his bey. Finally he saw a glint and found his bey was still spinning but covered in soot.
"Good job Mr Nikso," Hermes commended as he applauded lightly in a taunting manner. "You survived. Good thing too. After all, it'd e a shame if you died so early on. We have to put on a good show after all. Can't disappoint my future fans."
Simon growled. "You think this is funny or something?" he snarled. "Is this a joke to you? Is this why you're doing this? For glory or something? Do you not care about the fucking lives you'll ruin! The despair you'll bring to so many people? Does none of that fucking matter to you at all?"
"Oh Simon," Hermes cackled. "I'm hurt. Of course I care about all of this. I didn't get where I am because I had no interest in aiding Nemesis' Heir or Lord Zygor. I got here because I believed in the cause." He let out a malicious smirk. "That doesn't mean I won't lavish in some of the benefits of our victory though. Every generation needs its pantheon of heroes. So knowing in advance I'll be one of them, why not spice things up a little?"
"You make me sick!" Simon snapped back at him, letting his rage overtake him.
"Yes, that's good," Hermes mused. "Use that anger. Channel it! Now let's have a grand show! Strike at me with all your hatred!"
Simon immediately gave in to the temptation. "Destroy him Gryphos!" he roared. "Run right through Chaos Messenger!" His bey shot forward and there was a monstrous battle cry as a dragon-gryphon hybrid burst from the bey. The creature bared its teeth as it streaked towards the enemy.
"Counter," Hermes stated casually, unwavering in the face of the mythical creature lunging at him. "Special Move Messenger: Chaos Staff of Ruin!"
The angelic being remerged, only this time wielding a staff with two snakes coiled around it instead of a bow and arrow. The Angel planted the staff into the ground as if to use it like a shield, not intending to meet Gryphos' charge.
"Burst Blast again!" Simon fumed as his bey beast roared and let out a burst of flames from its mouth. The fire spewed out and slammed straight into The Angle's staff. Surprisingly, it held firm and the flames were redirected outwards, keeping The Angel safe from harm.
"Fine!" snapped Simon as he flung his closed fist out. "Run right through that angel instead Gryphos!" The beast let out another roar as it charged head first like a bull, only to miss when The Angel nimbly dodged out of the way. Now standing at the side of the creature, The Angel raised its staff and slashed at the beast's side. It roared in pain and so too did its master.
"Fuck!" Simon screamed as he fell to his knees, clutching his now bleeding side.
"That was just a taste," Hermes snickered. "We've only just begun! Strike him now Messenger!"
The Angel obeyed, raising its staff once again and slashing repeatedly at the panicking Gryphos. The creature bellowed as its body was suddenly covered in wounds and it eventually shattered from all the built up damage.
"Now relish in that pain!" Hermes laughed as he flung his arms out. Simon could only moan and shout in pain as the wounds his bey beast received were similarly inflicted on him. His clothing was now starting to stain with blood and he could feel his head becoming foggy and light. The blood-loose was getting to him.
"Now for the main course," continued Hermes with a deadly glint in his eye. "Special Move Chaos Messenger: Fog of Fallen Dreams!"
Simon couldn't even muster a reaction as Messenger's spin grew strange and erratic, eventually somehow producing a mysterious dark fog. It expanded over the entire arena before continuing beyond that. The silver-haired boy could only close his eyes in terror as he was enveloped in the unknown mist.
"Simon…Simon…Simon… where are you going Simon?"
Simon opened his eyes. He was no longer at the bey arena fighting Hermes. He was no longer on Academy Island. He was in the woods. A specific section of the woods near where he used to live. He recognised it instantly. But something was off. The angles seemed wrong. The way the dead trees reached towards him with their branches seemed impossible, like someone had stretched a painting out. He couldn't seem to stand straight either as if the ground was not level. The sky also didn't exist. Instead it was a blank black canvas with red leaking through the side.
"Where are you going Simon?"
The boy himself turned to see a younger version of himself wandering through the woods. His hair was roughly the same although he was noticeably shorter then and not as thin. This younger Simon also had a bulging backpack on, and he seemed to be struggling to walk with the enormous weight on his back.
"Where are you going Simon?" asked Griff again, as he floated behind the small boy. Drake was there too, though he was resigned to silence currently.
"I'm going away," the past Simon explained with a whine. "But this stupid backpack is so heavy. Since when did clothing weigh so much?"
"This isn't going to solve anything," Griff scolded. "None of this was your fault."
"Yes it was!" past Simon shot back, refusing to look back at the spirit. "Mum and dad…they wouldn't fight if it wasn't for me. It's because I can see you two…they think there's something wrong with me."
"They just don't understand is all," Griff sighed. "None of that is your fault. If anything, it's likely our fault for being bonded to you. Only you can see us."
"So there is something wrong with me then?" the young Simon sniffled before falling down, unable to stand the backpack weight any further. He threw the straps down and leaned against a tree to cry to himself.
"Running away won't solve anything boy," Drake admonished as he and Griff floated down next to the silver-haired boy. "We can only do so much to protect you too. But we're only spirits and our powers are limited in your plane of existence."
"Mum and dad can't protect me either," young Simon whined back, tears flowing down his cheeks like a stream. "They're always too busy yelling at each other and fighting! That's all I ever see them do! They're not like you two! I just want things to be like they used to…back when everyone was happy."
"What you're describing is a utopia Simon," Drake couldn't help but explain. "You were too young then to remember some of the bad times. The world isn't a fair place and mankind is a very flawed species, history all but proves that. Your parents don't just fight because of you…they fight for other reasons."
"I just can't take it anymore," cried young Simon as he desperately attempted to dry his tears on his sleeve. All he did was make it dirty from the snot running down his nose. "I can't sleep one more night in that house with the yelling on the other side of the door. I can't go back."
"Simon…" Griff intoned calmly as he floated down and placed an arm on the boy's head. "Sometimes we have to face things we don't like. Sometimes we have to just put on a brave face and move forward. Life is never going to be an endless stream of highs. That's not how it works. I understand the situation you're in is hard for someone your age. But you mustn't entirely blame yourself nor should you believe running away is the answer. In this instance, running away is like skipping a hard question on a test. Yes, you don't have to think hard on what the answer is but you haven't actually completed the question have you?"
The past Simon tried to calm himself as he looked up at his two spirit partners. He managed a smile, comforted by their very presence. "So…what do you think I should do?" he asked.
"We go back before your parents realise you're gone," Drake jumped in immediately. "If they never find out, it'd be better for everyone. What they know won't hurt them."
"But even if we do get caught," Griff added quickly. "Then we'll face the consequences together. That's the other thing about life. You have to be willing to face up to the mistakes you made and accept the consequences for your actions."
Past Simon nodded at the two spirits before slowly picking himself up off of the ground. He wiped his tears away on his sleeve (again) and adjusted his grip on the straps of his backpack. "I'm ready," he declared with determination in his eyes. "You'll help me find my way right? You won't leave my side?"
"Never," Griff responded with a smile.
"We're with you till the end," added Drake with a wink.
With that, the three set off back the way they came. Present Simon watched with intrigue as his past self vanished into a fog. He stood there alone for a few moments, taking it all in. He couldn't peel his eyes away from the spot where his young self had fallen down. He wanted to say something, to shout out to his past version. He wanted to tell the boy everything that would happen in the future. To tell him what he could go to make things right. But he couldn't open his mouth. He couldn't find the words.
"That was very touching," Hermes cackled. Simon spun around immediately, his good fist catching the older man in the jaw. There was a loud crack but Hermes laughed through it as if it was nothing. "That's some swing you got kid. Too bad I'm not really here. That probably would have hurt in real life too. Oh well."
"Why are you doing this?" Simon snapped at him, fists raised even though fighting would do nothing in this place.
"I wanted to see what made you tick," Hermes explained as he brushed some strands of hair from his eyes. "I wanted to see what path you took that brought you here. It was very touching."
By now, his diabolical laughter was really getting on Simon's nerves, and he was gritting his teeth and seething with rage at the man that stood before him. He had never loathed another human being so much. But the fact that he'd dare forcefully see another's personal memories was a step too far for the Gryphos blader.
"So tell me," Hermes mused as he folded his arms and looked down at Simon. "Did your parents divorce in the end?" Simon desperately tried not to flinch but he couldn't hold back. The memory was too painful. Hermes of course caught this and leapt on it. "I'm so sorry. No child should have to go through that. That's just how the chips fall sometimes. Although it seems like you had a hand to play in all of it."
"Shut up," Simon snarled as he lowered his head, letting his hair fall over his eyes.
"You couldn't stop talking to those spirits could you?" Hermes continued to prod. "They were your best friends after all. But only you could see them. So on top of the strain already on your parent's marriage, they also had to deal with a child whom they thought had something wrong with him."
"I said shut up!" Simon snapped, a little louder this time. He was trying to restrain himself so much that he was digging his nails into his palms.
"You even ended up falsely diagnosed with schizophrenia," barked Hermes, who was enjoying twisting the metaphorical knife in the boy's heart. "Is that why once they divorced you tried your hardest to not let others know of the spirits? Is that why you stopped talking to them so often? Is that why they went away? You stopped being who you were because all you ever caused was trouble."
"I SAID SHUT UP!" Simon bellowed as he tackled Hermes to the ground. He sat on top of the man, who did nothing but laugh, refusing to even try and defend himself. Ignoring the pain in his bad wrist, the silver-haired boy began landing blow after blow against the older man's face. Blood poured from his nose and busted jaw, but still he cackled like a maniac. His eyes were wide and seemed to penetrate Simon's soul. Speaking of Simon, he was in a rage. He ignored the blood that was staining his hands as he inflicted the pain he had always wanted to. All of his repressed emotions of anger and frustration with the world were finally coming out. And nothing was going to stop him till he felt satisfied.
"So much anger!" Hermes shouted with glee through the blood on his face. "So much fury! So much pent up rage! That's it Simon! Let it all out! Show me your inner beast! Show us all the real you! Show us all the monster you were always meant to be!"
Despite how clear it was he was being manipulated by the taunting, Simon could not stop himself. He had never felt such glee in his life. Throughout his whole life he'd forced himself to stay quiet, to not let his anger explode out. But in this moment, he realised how much he had been kidding himself. He thought that if he was nice enough eventually the world would be nice back. But that wasn't true. As he began pounding Hermes with one hand, his other found a nearby rock. Raising it above his head, he roared with triumph and brought it down against the man's chest.
But the stone never met Hermes' heart. Instead, it connected with the ground. The world transformed around Simon, catching him off guard but also snapping him out of his violent trance. He stumbled around confused for a moment before his surroundings seemed to stop spinning and settle. He was at the academy again. But the actual buildings were all on fire.
Once again though, everything was wrong. The angles were all exaggerated and stretched out and distorted. The flames rose to unrealistically high heights and the world seemed to spin as if on a conveyer belt of some sort. Simon could not get his bearings at all, instead he felt sick and ill. He stumbled and fell on all fours as he tried to keep his head straight.
"Simon…" a weak voice called out. It was a cry of pain, from a familiar face. Simon's blood ran cold as he slowly turned his head to see Mana. She was stumbling towards him, clearly severely wounded. Her body was covered in black burns and her clothing was all torn and shredded. A singed hand reached out towards him.
"Simon…please…help me," she managed to say before falling to the ground face-first. Simon screamed at her in horror as he awkwardly got to his feet and ran over to her. As he tried to pick her up off of the ground however, her body disintegrated into ash.
"No… this…no!" Simon shouted to himself as he stumbled away from Mana's ashes in horror. "This isn't real!" he snapped at no one in particular. "This is just a dream! Or some illusion! Get out of my head Hermes!"
"Simon…" called out another voice. This time it was Kiara stumbling towards him with outstretched hands. "Why didn't you help us?" Simon felt bile rising in his throat as he saw a stake sticking out of the girl's chest. Blood was pouring from the wound at a rapid pace, so much so that Kiara's body was losing its shape, like a balloon that had been deflated. "Why didn't you do more?" she asked before her skin fell to the ground in a pool of blood.
"This isn't happening!" Simon yelled as he gripped his head with both hands. "I need to get out of here! I need to wake up!" He closed his eyes as he dug his fingernails into his skull. "Wake up Simon! Wake up!"
"SIMON!"
His eyes burst open in horror to see Max before him on his knees. The boy was crawling on the ground, which seemed to have a mind of its own. Hands of dirt were emerging from the earth and pulling Max down into it, sucking him under.
"Simon, help me! Help me!" Max begged through tears. Acting on instinct, Simon leapt up and dashed over to his friend, successfully managing to catch Max's hand with his own. Unfortunately by error, Simon had reached out with the hand which had an injured wrist, so when he attempted to pull his mate out, he cried out in pain. He instinctively let go too, falling back as he cradled his injury. He had unfortunately left Max vulnerable to the demonic earth.
"Simon!" The brunette screamed. Simon gasped in shock when he realised the gravity of his mistake. He could only look into Max's eyes as he was dragged beneath the ground. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hypnotise him.
"Why didn't you save me Simon?" was Max's final words before he was gone.
Simon slapped himself with his good hand. Then he did it again to ensure his felt it. Then he did it a third time for safety. Then he did it a fourth time because why the hell not? "It's all a dream Simon," he fast-talked to himself through his hyperventilation. "Hermes is just messing with you. The gang isn't dead. You didn't do anything wrong. Max isn't dead…."
He foolishly cursed himself for his choice of words and angrily slapped himself again. He kept doing it on repeat, hoping he might manage to slap himself awake and free himself from Hermes' terrifying illusion. Eventually his check was red raw from all the slapping and still he'd failed to awaken.
"Drake…Griff…" he whimpered to himself as he fell down and covered his head with his hands as if a bomb were about to detonate. "Help me…someone please…anyone…help me."
"Help you?" Hermes spat with a chuckle. Simon looked up and screamed in terror. His surroundings had changed yet again. He was no longer standing in the academy grounds but rather in a graveyard. It was foggy, as you'd assume, and muddy. Rain was pouring down like there was no tomorrow and lightning flashed as if this was a laser-light show of some sort. What really shook him though wasn't how soaked to the bone he was or how his pants and shoes had sunken into the mud earth.
No, what shook him was the line of tombstones circled around him. They weren't just any random tombstones; they belonged to all the people closest to him. Team Nova Flare was all there as was his parents and even Drake and Griff. Everyone he loved was dead. Hermes towered over him, his image contorted and stretched out to appear taller. His nose had taken on a hook like appearance, which helped him to sneer down at the Gryphos blader.
"You're useless Simon!" be barked through the razor teeth his current form gave him. He reached out with his now long bony fingers and cupped the boy's chin to make him look up. "You're nothing! A failure who only does harm to those around you! First it was your parents, then the people you tried to explain your spirit friends to! Then your spirits had to stay away as much as possible just so you could be happy! And Max is dead isn't he? And when Azrael threatened you all, what did you do? Nothing!"
The disciple's hand quickly found Simon's throat and he was lifted up and thrown against a large tombstone that magically sprung out of the muddy ground. Simon hit it with a sickening crunch and collapsed into a shallow grave that had opened up. He quickly stood up in a panic and began clawing at the sides of the pit in a desperate attempt to escape. The pounding rain was already flooding the hole was in and his muddy shoes were constantly slipping and sliding. He couldn't get a foothold or a solid hand anywhere to pull himself out.
"Everyone suffers because of you Simon," Hermes hissed as he leaned over the grave to grin devilishly at the boy. "But remember, ghosts very much like to hold grudges. Why don't you show him what I mean?"
Simon gasped as zombie-versions of his loved ones and friends suddenly appeared at the top of the pit holding shovels. They laughed and jeered at him as they all began scooping up dirt and throwing it in the hole. Simon shouted and screamed for help, he screamed for someone to wake him up as he was slowly buried alive.
"Simon?" Max, perfectly normal, no zombie skin or anything suddenly leaned over the grave to look down and speak to Simon. "Is that you?"
"Max! Holy shit!" Simon cheered through tears of joy. "Please, you got to help me out of here! I'm begging you!"
Max titled his head and a grim frown formed on his usually cheerful face. "Why would I save you when you didn't save me?" The words hit like a punch to the stomach, and the silver-haired boy could find no way to respond.
"See you in hell Simon!" Max laughed, suddenly grinning like Azrael as his eyes turned black. He laughed maniacally as he lifted the large tombstone from earlier and threw it down into the grave. Simon screamed as his world was engulfed by darkness.
And just like that, it was over. Simon was brought back to the real world but worse for wear. He was currently lying on the ground, shivering like he had had been frozen in the arctic. His face was running with tears and snot and his eyes bulged open, as if he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.
Hermes' head flung back as he laughed to himself. "So fragile," he mused. "You're very much a special snowflake aren't you boy?" Simon either didn't hear or couldn't bring himself to respond to the insult. "I knew I was bound to rattle your cage but I didn't expect the cage to literally rupture like this." He taped his chin. "Who would have thought Simon Nikso would have such hidden insecurities. I suppose everyone has their secrets though."
"Simon!" a voice cried out near the boy in question. He didn't respond as Drake materialised beside him. He simply continued to rock back and forth on his side, as if trying to pretend that only he existed in the world. "Simon, you have to snap out of it. If you don't Hermes will win the battle. If you lose everyone loses!" Still no response. "Simon! Simon, are you listening to me? SIMON!"
Hermes licked his lips as he watched the vague form before him try to knock some sense into the Gryphos blader. Even with his Chaos powers, Hermes could not see spirits; that was in of itself a rare gift. However, with the right training one could start to break down the barriers that separated the two planes. He could make-out a vague ghost like image that was in fact Drake but he could not hear anything the spirit was saying.
"I can't properly see or hear you spirit!" Hermes called out to Drake. The dragon-human hybrid looked at him with wide eyes, not that the disciple could see that detail though. "But I do believe your efforts will be in vein to wake poor Mr Nikso from his little freak-out. I'm afraid he's too far gone."
Drake scowled at the older man (though again, Hermes really couldn't see this) before turning back to the shivering form of his friend. He so desperately wanted to hold the boy to try and provide some comfort or warmth but he knew his hands would just go straight through.
"Not exactly how I thought this would end to be honest," Hermes stated to no one in particular. That being said, he did seem like the kind of guy who enjoyed the sound of his own voice. "But you gotta do what you gotta do. At the very least, Simon's freak out in his head should make the tale juicy enough for the history books." He fondled his hands like a James Bond villain with a laugh. "Let's finish this shall we Messenger?"
His bey responded instantly and surged towards Gryphos, smashing into it and knocking it to the edge of the stadium. The bey was unable to defend itself without any commands or orders from Simon; it was simply forced to take the beating it was about to get.
"Chaotic Staff of Ruin!" Hermes declared, flinging his arm out dramatically. The Angelic Man appeared once again with his trademark staff. Using it like a hockey stick, it began bating Gryphos around, purposefully holding back just enough to not cause a stadium out for the opponent.
Through this barrage and assault Simon did nothing. Instead he starred ahead at nothing, simply complacent with lying on the ground in a panicked daze.
"Simon, it's me Griff!" the second spirit shouted desperately as he too materialised in a last ditch effort to get the silver-haired boy to stand up and keep fighting. "I understand what you're feeling right now, but you mustn't let it consume you! People are relying on you right now! The world is relying on you!"
"And I'll let them down," Simon whispered in response as he lay shivering on the ground. "Just like always…I'll let them down…"
"Barrage attack Messenger!" declared Hermes with a sadistic grin as he flung his arm out dramatically. His bey shot forward and began striking Gryphos over and over again across the stadium. "Now pummel him into the ground!" he added as his bey began drilling into Gryphos. Sparks flew as Gryphos was pushed into the surface of the arena, cracking its smooth exterior.
Hermes closed his eyes, not even bothering to focus on the battle before him anymore. To him, it was all over anyway. Continuing to focus was a waste of time. "How amusing that this is how it all ends," he noted with the tilt of his head. "Not even a real struggle…just the last desperate gasps for life before it's snuffed out like a flame." He opened his narrowed eyes at the boy in question. "Look at you…just a boy lying on the ground too frightened to even do anything. I almost pity you Mr Nikso. How cruel of fate to place you in such a position. How cruel of fate to force teenagers to fight a battle that would determine the future of the world." He shook his head in disappointment. "Don't cry my boy, this really isn't your fault. You just got dealt a bad hand is all. The one at fault is the one who decided someone as useless and pathetic as you was up to the task of saving the world. I hope they were fired for that decision."
"What do we do now!?" a panicking Drake snapped to Griff. "He won't listen to us! If he doesn't do something then Gryphos will sleep out and he'll have lost!"
"If you two spirits are forming a sort of plan," Hermes called out mockingly to them. "I'd hurry it up a bit. The clock is ticking ever so faster. Counting down to the end." He taped his wrist tauntingly as if he were wearing a watch. His smugness knew no bounds.
"I have one idea," Griff said after a moment. He looked down sadly at Simon. "We need to combine our energies to awaken a memory within Simon. We'll do what Hermes did, we'll piggyback off of his energy but this time bring forth a happy memory that might encourage Simon to continue fighting. To find hope instead of giving in to despair."
"Worth a shot I suppose," Drake huffed in response. "We better do this quick. You know what you're doing?"
"I think so," Griff replied as he reached towards Simon's head. "Be warned, we risk our own lives by doing this. It may be all or nothing," he warned.
"For Simon, whatever it takes," Drake responded immediately without hesitation. He nodded to his partner before placing his own hand on the boy's forehead. The two spirits began to glow, the brightness piercing the darkness of the night. Hermes stumbled back in shock, able to perfectly see the spirits for once.
"What the devil?" he stuttered to himself, legitimately caught off guard for once. "What in the blazes is this? Some sort of trick?"
"Remember Simon!" Griff called out as the blinding white light began to envelop the three of them.
"Remember Simon!" added Drake as the light finally swallowed them up and Simon found himself transported away from the battle.
There was a sudden calmness for the boy. His heartbeat seemed to have slowed considerably and he could remain still without shaking. He couldn't feel his own pulse racing faster than what felt humanly possible anymore. Cold sweat wasn't dripping from him. He couldn't feel the icy wind against his back nor hear the thunder in the dark sky. It was calm.
It took him a minute to realise that he was in Max's room. He couldn't quite figure out why it had taken him so long to recognise it. Perhaps it had something to do with the sudden peace he felt. He sat up slowly and rested himself against the wall, staring at the empty room. Suddenly, images began to flicker. It was images of people actually, that of himself and the rest of Team Nova Flare.
Simon's eyes widened in realisation. 'This is a memory,' he thought. 'This is us right before The Purge started. The night of our victory at the tournament.'
Despite the room not really being large enough to accommodate five teenagers, they had all managed to make themselves comfortable. Max and Simon had taken the bed, while Kenny had the chair at Max's desk occupied. Kiara had found a stool around somewhere and was sitting on that in the corner whilst Blaze was resting on the windowsill. Each had a can of VB in their hand, Kiara having somehow gotten her hands on some. "Something, something underground alcohol-ring" Simon recalled her explaining to them at some point.
"To victory," Blaze snickered as she held up her green can. The others followed and all awkwardly clunked their cans together with a laugh. "Now…let's crack these bad boys open."
"This is going to be great," Max cheered. "My first drink of alcohol!"
"You're kidding right?" Kiara glanced at him with disbelief written across her face. "Surely you've been to a party before or something right? Or you've snuck a drink from your parents' stash?"
Max shrugged and merely grinned. "I was too busy devouring all the free food at the parties I went to. And I guess I didn't ever see the need to steal alcohol from my parents. I was always getting along fine without it. But considering the occasion, I thought I might as well give it a shot."
"This is not going to end well," Blaze gloated under her breath. She fake coughed to ensure it was covered up and no one heard her. She cleared her throat as she looked at their leader. "Why don't you have the first sip Max? You did lead us to victory after all."
Max failed to pick up on the obvious sweet and sarcastic tone of the redhead's voice. Instead, he cracked his VB open and took a nice big swig. He then immediately spat it out into the nearby bin. Everyone else of course burst into laughter.
"That was nasty!" Max groaned as he let his tongue out and began desperately wiping it with his bare hands in an attempt to remove all the lingering taste of the beer. "How can people spend money on this garbage? It tastes like cat piss."
"It's an acquired taste sort of thing," Kenny explained casually as he opened his can and took a sip. It was clear he didn't like his drink too much either but he forced it down. "Beer especially is known for being quite bitter."
"It's typically considered a "man's drink" if you believe all that nonsense," Blaze added as she gulped down some of her own can. Apparently she was somewhat experienced with the drink as she seemed to get it down fine. "Though a lot of alcohol usually just isn't all that pleasant. It doesn't have that almost universal appeal as soft drinks. You want my advice Max, never go near wine or champagne."
"I'll try to remember that," he responded as he eyed his drink as if it were an enemy. He itched his chin in annoyance. "Man…why would teenagers want this though? It doesn't taste very good and it's so expensive in comparison to soft drink. I just don't get the appeal."
"If you're drunk the taste matters little," Kiara responded with a shrug. "There's also the whole teenage rebellion thing. I think the whole concept might just appeal to teenagers more-so than the actual drink itself."
Max looked at her blankly and shook his head. "I still don't get it."
Blaze rolled her eyes and laughed. "Of course you wouldn't" she couldn't help but snipe.
Max turned to her with an exaggerated angry face on. He even had his hands on his hips for extra effect. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh Max," Simon chuckled as he ruffled the other boy's hair as if he were a dog. "Sweet, naïve Max. You'll understand one day when you're a bit older."
"Come on Simon!" Max complained as he tried to get his hair back to the way he wanted it. "A man's hair style is sacred. Do you know how long it takes me in the morning to get it exactly right?"
"Five seconds?" Blaze wagered a guess as she stuck her tongue out at the brunette.
"Damn you Blaze," Max deadpanned in response, knowing she had him beat with just two words. "Still…" he glanced at his can wearily before taking a sip. He looked ready to pass out from it. "I suppose VB will have to do as our celebration drink. No matter how bad the taste is…" he grimaced.
"Still can't believe we actually won the tournament to be honest," Simon piped up with a sip of his own drink. "It feels good…you know? Despite all the crazy shit that went down and all the pain we went through it feels good to come out on top." He had a goofy grin on his face now as he brushed his hair with his hand. "I know saying we won a tournament when all this other insane stuff is happening sounds weird but…"
"We get it," Kenny cut him off, a smile also on his face. "Even in the face of insanity, the little things matter. It's… safe is the word I guess. Comforting almost. The tournament didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. But winning felt like a nice cherry on top of it all. Because it feels divorced from all the crazy stuff. It feels normal."
"That's certainly one way to put it," Kiara noted with a stifled laugh. Her eyes didn't seem to match her smile though. "You know…things are going to get hard from here right?"
"That's life for you," Blaze couldn't help but crack in response as she blew a stray hair out of her face.
Max's finger tapped his still quite full can of VB. "Unmei said that it's far from over," he stated after a moment. "And she said that the "Purge" is coming. Whatever that means but it sounds ominous."
"Damn," Blaze snickered to herself. "Wasn't aware you knew that word Max. Here I was thinking you were still on grade-school level when it came to English."
"Quiet you!" Max snapped back at her in an exaggerated manner, shaking a comedic fist at her too. "Point is, she said Nemesis' Heir was coming. And with whatever this Purge is on the horizon too probably…this might be our last night to just…relax?"
"Be ordinary teens and enjoy our victory you mean?" Kenny clarified as he sipped his bitter drink. "Just for one night. Sounds good."
"I can understand that sentiment," Simon pitched in again as he adjusted his position on the bed. "Things might go south from here so why not enjoy our last night before…whatever comes next comes."
"I can get behind that," Kiara agreed with a nod. "To being teenagers and winning!" she declared as she held up her can.
"To being teenagers and winning!" everyone else followed as they all toasted with their respective beer cans. During this of course, Max slipped from his position on the bed. He crumpled to the floor and his can was flung into the air. Of course, it fell right on his head and the contents were emptied into his hair.
"Why do you hate me God?" he deadpanned as he began comedically trying to brush the substance from his bushy mane before it sank in. The others simply laughed as this went on until he began furiously shaking his head like a dog, spraying the drops of beer all over the place.
Blaze being the closest got the worst of it. She gasped in shock before giving Max the biggest stink eye she could muster. "You…are so…DEAD!" Quickly putting her can down, she grabbed a nearby pillow off the floor and smacked the brunette silly with it.
"Pillow fight!" Kenny called out cheekily as everyone grabbed a pillow and began an all out brawl. Feathers went flying as pretty much everyone teamed up against Max for comedic effect. He complained through his never-ending laughter about how he was their leader and that they should respect him more. Every mocking complaint was met with a pillow to the face.
The present Simon watched on, invisible to everyone with a small smile on his face. Getting to experience this moment one again made him feel warm inside. It was moments like these that made him remember how much he loved his friends.
"Remember who you're fighting for," the faint voice of Drake whispered into his ear. He turned around and found himself gone from the memory. Now he stood in a black void with his two spirit partners. However, their forms seemed faint and were flickering like a malfunctioning hologram.
"This is what life looks like," Griff said, continuing on from Drake. "People who love each other. A family. Friends. The sense of belonging. This is what you're fighting for Simon. Don't you ever forget that."
"I don't know if I have the strength to do it though," Simon admitted as he lowered his head. "I already lost control of myself earlier too…"
"Human potential is limitless," Drake returned with as he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. Because of the strange void they were in, the two were able to actually interact with one another for once. "That means your potential is limitless too."
Simon's fist clenched and is injured hand shook. "I don't know if I can do it alone," he reiterated.
Griff reached out with his hand now and tilted the boy's head up. "You're never alone Simon. Drake and I will always be with you, no matter what. And your friends and the ones who truly love you will always be in your heart."
"Remember when you were young?" Drake asked. "You used to refer to us two as the Brave and the Bold based off that comic you read. Well Simon, that's not just us. You're that too. We've instilled those qualities in you. With them, you'll reach new heights and keep on soaring."
Simon suddenly seemed to realise that Griff and Drake didn't seem all that happy despite their words. "Guys…what's going on?" he questioned, his face now lined with worry.
"We have to go away for awhile," Griff admitted with a heavy-heart and downcast eyes. His body flickered again. "The energy we used to awaken that memory and bring you out of your shocked state has seemed to weaken our forms. We don't know whether we'll make it or not."
Simon's gasped in horror and pulled away from their arms. "No…NO!" he shouted angrily at them. "There has to be another way! It can't end like this? It just can't!" Tears were forming in his eyes now.
Drake and Griff calmly approached the silver-haired boy and wiped his tears for him before they embraced him in a hug. "No one's ever really gone Simon," Drake intoned. "And we might not be gone for good. One day, we might find our way back to you. But even if we don't, we'll always be with you in spirit."
"I…love you guys," Simon said after a moment through his tears as the void around them collapsed into a brilliant bright light. "I'll never forget you."
"What is happening?" Hermes demanded as the bright light finally subdued and Simon stood across from him alone. He was on his knees and his head was down, allowing his tears to splash onto the ground.
"What happened" he gritted out as he slowly got to his feet and stared down his opponent. "Is that you've failed."
"I see you've regained some spunk," mused Hermes with a lip curl. "It still won't be enough. Just look at your bey, you've allowed it to fall victim to my own and now it's going to sleep-out!"
Simon sucked in a deep breath before flinging his arm out. "Gryphos: Burst Blast!"
The special move turned out to be exactly what he needed. As Gryphos burst into flames, Chaos Messenger was flung back, unable to dodge because it was within such close range. As it flew into the air, Simon saw his chance.
"Burst Blast again and ram that wicked angel!" he roared with clenched fists. His bey obeyed perfectly, intercepting the opponent just before it landed, sending it crashing into the side of the stadium.
"One successful counterattack means nothing!" Hermes barked. "Besides, think of all the time you've already wasted?" He gestured to the top of the monolith, which was sucking in souls. "How many of your classmates do you think lost their souls because you were too busy lying on the ground feeling sorry for yourself?"
Simon noticeably flinched but did not give in. "I'm not letting your mind games suck me in anymore!" he snarled. "Fly up high Gryphos!" he shouted as he pointed to the sky.
His bey began circling the arena as high speeds before it launched high up into the air for an aerial assault. "Special Move Gryphos: Wingtip Scorcher!"
His bey caught fire as it fell from the sky, intending to inflict huge damage on Chaos Messenger from above. Hermes had other plans however. "Counter with the Chaos Staff of Ruin!" he bellowed out. His Angel bey beast appeared with his staff at the ready, and Gryphos' bey beast appeared in the sky to match. It roared before flying down and chomping down on the staff.
"Take him out Gryphos!" Simon declared with a fist pump as his beast's teeth tore through the staff, shattering it into two pieces. Hermes' eyes widened in shock before he immediately regained his composure and thought of a plan.
"Back away Messenger!" he commanded and his Angel flew back somewhat to avoid the razor sharp teeth of its foe. "Now strike him down with Chaos Arrow Shot!"
The Angel's bow magically appeared in his hands before he drew back an arrow and fired it at the dragon-griffin hybrid that lunged forward. It barely managed to avoid the incoming projectile, forced to turn and spin away as a result. This gave the Angel the adequate time to reload and fire another exploding arrow at its foe.
"Use your own long-range strike Gryphos!" Simon declared and his beast responded in kind by launching a stream of flames from its mouth. The fire caught the arrow mid-flight and detonated its explosive power early, causing both beasts to get caught in the disaster.
Both bladers held their arms up to shield themselves from the debris and smoke that came at them.
"You little shit," Hermes scowled. "You think you're hot stuff all of a sudden do you?"
"Yes!" Simon shot back immediately with nothing but determination. "And I'm far from done! Fly high again Gryphos! This attacks is for keeps!"
His beast roared before it and its respective bey once again took flight into the distorted night sky. It's fiery encasing made it stand out against the black and the blue flashes of lighting.
"You really think that same attack will work again?" Hermes snarled smugly.
Simon didn't even bat an eye as he threw his right arm into the air and proudly declared, "Descend Special Move: Inferno Destruction Ultimatum!"
As the rubber compartments on the bey opened, the fire surrounding it increased exponentially. The heat was so harsh that Simon and Hermes were forced to take a step back, that's how uncomfortable it was.
"Do you not think we haven't been watching you Simon?" Hermes spat out suddenly. "I know your every move whereas you know none of mine!"
"That's why I'm not aiming for your bey!" Simon retorted with a glare. "I'm aiming for the stadium!"
Hermes' eyed widened in confusion. "What?"
There was nothing he could do though other than order his bey to move as close to the edge of the arena as possible without risking tipping over. At first, the disciple figured this was all a bluff, and was thus mightily surprised when Gryphos did indeed slam into the centre of the stadium. The crash was deafening and the effects were immediate. Not only had the impact cracked the stadium into four pieces, but boiling hot magma was now flowing through said cracks. The arena was literally on fire and it was getting hotter and the flames were growing higher with each passing seconds.
"What have you done?" Hermes cursed as he began slowly inching backwards towards the monolith, his hands over his face to protect himself from the intense heat. "You nearly blasted the whole arena apart! Are you insane?"
"It's called strategy," Simon retorted. Unlike Hermes, he was making no move to protect himself from the flames or the heat. He stood his ground, even though the pain he was feeling was something else. He could feel the burning sensation on his skin but he fought through it. "We've been fighting this whole battle on your terms. It's about time we fight it on mine!"
"This won't save you, you little brat!" Hermes seethed. "It'll take more than a little heat to overcome my Chaos Messenger!"
"I guess we'll find out how true that really is!" Simon snapped at him in response as he clenched his fists. "Unleash your ultimate fury Gryphos!"
His bellow echoed out into the night as his bey beast once again rose up and let our a fearsome roar. Its presence only seemed to agitate the flaming inferno on the field, and the wall of fire only grew higher and became more intense.
"You're going to kill us both!" Hermes yelled at him, anger evident in his usually calm face. "Don't you see, you'll burn us to death before the battle can even conclude!"
"Only you'll burn Hermes!" Simon returned as he stared him straight in the eye. "Burn in hell that is! Descend Special Move: Turbo Inferno Destruction Ultimatum!"
Hermes gasped in horror. "What…if you perform that move in this current scenario…the flames will be uncontrollable…"
"That's the general idea," Simon replied without a hint of fear or uncertainty in his voice. He had figured out the key to victory in this battle. Hermes knew all his moves; he'd been studying him. He couldn't rely on his prior tactics. He needed to do something brave and bold. So why not let loose his most destructive and dangerous move without any safety precautions? Hermes would never see it coming, and even if it took himself out along with his opponent, it'd all be worth it. This was the only way.
"Burn it all Gryphos Dragon!" he bellowed out into the night as his bey unleashed an explosion of fire and lava. The literal stadium was engulfed in a swirling vortex of fire and magma. The two bladers screamed in pain as their skin was scorched and burnt and their two beys were flung around uncontrollably by the spiralling flames. By this point, the sky was no longer crackling with blue lightning. The inferno had extended to the height of the monolith, creating a fiery red light in the sky. The twisting vortex around the point of the monument had been disrupted by the fire, and it was now receding.
The only thing that was, was the fire.
"Finish him now Gryphos!" Simon somehow found the strength to say. He was on his knees at this point but was still looking straight ahead at his opponent. Hermes was too busy pleading for the pain to stop and didn't notice the opposing bey make a move against his. The Dragon bey came down on top of Chaos Messenger and slammed it into the stadium. The two beasts once again emerged to do battle and faced off.
The draconic beast lunged forward, jaws first, only to be met once again with the Chaos Staff of Ruin. The Angle used it to force its foe back and attempted to take flight, only for his wings to be bunt and singed away to nothing by the surrounding environment. He gave a cry of pain before his foot was snagged in between the jaws of Gryphos. The angel snarled and flung the top of its staff into the beast's side, piercing it. His foot was freed as the draconic beast roared with pain only to be met with a blast of fire from its maw. The angel screeched as he was burnt away into nothing and lost to the surrounding inferno. Both beys were on the verge of melting at this point, and this final attack was enough to shatter the fragile Messenger into pieces as it slammed into the ground.
"You flew too close to the sun Hermes," Simon taunted grimly.
"NOOOOOOOOO!" Hermes screamed with rage as his precious bey was destroyed and caused an explosion that sent him flying back and crashing into the monolith. The inferno didn't let up either, and the disciple moaned with horror as what appeared to be fiery spirits arose from the lava and lunged at him. Simon was unable to control the inferno and therefore could only watch as the firestorm turned its attention to demolishing the monument of chaos.
Having technically won the battle, Simon recalled his bey, hissing in pain as the hot metal hit his exposed palm. He began backing off and running to the side to escape the worst of the fire. Hermes was not so lucky. As he was pinned to the now damaged monument, he was at the complete mercy of the inferno and was being literally cooked alive.
Finally, the fire receded, but not before letting out a monstrous bellow as if it were indeed alive. Simon watched in awe as the flames ascended into the night sky and vanished, leaving the sky a blood red colour in its wake. He looked over to the near dead Hermes, who couldn't even find the willpower to move. His crest had gone out, as did the light on the Monolith.
"I did it," Simon whispered to himself. "I…no…" He touched his heart. "We won."
"Help me…." A voice whispered. The silver-haired boy turned to the monument and gasped. He could see the charred and horribly scarred form of Hermes looking at him. "Please…help me…"
Simon hesitated. He wasn't sure if he wanted to help such a man. And he wasn't even sure if there was anything that could be done to help the man in his current condition. That being said, if were to let Hermes simply die, then the blood would be on his hands. Simon was the one responsible for putting him in this position after all. He was the one who'd endangered them both by letting loose the firestorm. Earlier in his head, Simon had leapt at the chance to beat the man into submission. He had revelled in it, enjoyed the blood staining his hands. He realised then that there was an anger and darkness within him. If he allowed Hermes to die, he was letting that savage side of him win. The part of him that was a monster, the part Drake had warned him not to become.
"I'm on my way," Simon called out to the older man as he slowly began to walk through the debris and destroyed stadium. Unfortunately, it was at that moment he heard a rumbling. Glancing up, he watched in shock as the Monolith began to crack and fall apart. He screamed as he barely dodged a large boulder falling towards him.
"Help…me…" Hermes begged again from his position, unable to move. If left there, he would die when the Monolith completely collapsed.
"Just hold on!" Simon called back as he desperately began weaving and dodging through the falling debris. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the best condition for something like this, and his movements were rather sluggish. He was also still wounded from some hits Hermes had inflicted upon him earlier. He was limping pretty badly, and it was making it difficult for him to really move at even a gradual speed. His progress was painfully slow for both himself and Hermes. "I'm almost there!"
"Hurry…please…"
Just as Hermes finally seemed within reach, the structure collapsed completely. The two males screamed as the Monolith toppled over and crumbled to nothing. Simon closed his eyes and flung himself to the side, praying that he would live to see another day. All he could hear was the sound of rock hitting the ground and his eyes were blinded by ash and smoke. He didn't shift or move and instead remained curled up in a ball with his hands over his head. The ground seemed unstable and his ears pounded from the sound of dirt being impacted around him. He could also make out Hermes' screams through all of this. It was haunting, like a ghostly spirit of some sort cursing him. He waited till everything seemed still and silent before finally raising his head and glancing around.
The first thing he noticed was the warm substance on his face and hands. Opening his eyes a squint, he realised the substance on him was red.
Oh god, it was blood.
Hermes' blood.
He could see the dead man's hand sticking out from underneath some rubble next to him. Simon screamed as he stumbled back in horror before falling to his knees and vomiting. He tried to regain his composure only to immediately topple forward and throw up yet again. His hands shook as he stared at the red substance covering them. He could do nothing but shout and cry. He had done this. Hermes was dead because of him. How ironic that even though he had not physically beaten the man to death like in the dream world, his hands were still stained from the deed. Suddenly the haunting screams he had heard only seconds earlier took on a new meaning. They weren't just the final gasps of breathe from a condemned man. No, they were screams cursing him.
"You killed me Simon Nikso!"
The thought of all of this finally got to Simon and he allowed the shock to settle in and for unconsciousness to take him. He fell to the ground, lying next to the buried remains of his enemy. The enemy he didn't want to kill but ultimately did.
The abyss grinned.
-The Unknown
Max hit the floor hard. Like really hard. Like hard enough to kick dust into the air hard. Like…OK I think you get the point. The brunette groaned for a movement before slowly picking himself up and checking that nothing was broken. Miraculously nothing was. He grinned a little as the pain he was feeling all over began to dull and fade. About time something went his way.
"Neat," he said cheerfully. "Looks like I didn't die. Max: One, Death: Big fat zero!" He glanced around and noticed that he was standing in a house. But it wasn't just any house. It was his house. Down to a tee even. The rooms were all furnished the same. The carpet was the same. The hole in the wall he'd accidently made was the same. Everything was just as he remembered it when he left at the start of the year.
"How the hell did I get here?" he questioned to himself before shouting, "Mum! Dad! It's me Max! I'm home! Somehow I'm home!"
There was no response however. The house was deathly silent. In fact, everything seemed eerily still. He could see outside via the windows but nothing was moving out there either. It was devoid of people or animals. It was devoid of movement and all signs of life. It was if he was trapped in a photograph and all living things had been photo shopped out.
"Oh God," Max gasped as began to back away into a corner with fear evident on his face. "Did I land in some sort of post-apocalyptic world where I'm the only man left alive on earth?"
SLURP!
The sound of a drink being…well…drunk caught the boy's attention. Glancing around for any sort of danger first, he then carefully began edging his way to the front door; keenly aware the sound was coming from the front yard. He kept low, hopefully so anyone on the outside wouldn't be able to peer in at him through the windows easily. That being said, he felt ridiculous with the way he was awkwardly crouching along.
"Of course," he cursed with a whisper. "Of course I have to open another door with potentially dire consequences. That last one didn't kill me thankfully. Although Luther pushed me for some reason. And what the hell did he mean there was no other side? The hell was all that about?"
As he squabbled with himself, he inched closer and closer to the door. The slurping sound got louder and louder. Someone or something was definitely out there. Apparently not doing anything in fact. Was it waiting for something? Or someone? Was it waiting for Max?
"Here goes nothing," Max noted grimly as he pulled out his launcher and attached Swordsman. He'd be ready for a fight if one broke out. He reached for the doorknob, twisted and then kicked the door open and jumped out screaming a battle cry.
Unfortunately he didn't time his landing very well. Instead of going into a roll, he hit the grass awkwardly on his ankle and tripped, falling face first to the ground. His launcher was lost to the unknown as his grip loosened and soon all he could feel was the grass on his face. He groaned as he lay there in pain, mentally berating himself for making such a foolish error. He was certain Mana in spirit was calling him an idiot.
"Nice job dork," a voice barked out. Max could hear footsteps approaching, along with the slurping sound. He gulped as he raised his head to see a figure standing before him, blocking out the sun.
It was a boy, probably a little older than he was. He was tall and broad shouldered, which helped with making him seem intimidating. He wore a black sleeveless hoodie over a white t-shirt and had a slick pair of blue denim jeans to go with his brown shoes. He had olive skin and short sleeked back blond hair, which contrasted with his black sunglasses. He was holding a drink with a straw, which was obviously where the slurping sound had been coming from.
"Get up!" he snarled rudely as he lightly kicked Max's in the side. The brunette growled angrily before jumping up and taking a fighting pose.
"Back off man!" Max threatened with fight in his eyes. "I've watched a bunch of Kung Fu movies. So I can imitate some takedowns…. probably. I also have Order powers, which makes me super powerful. If I can access them currently that is. What I'm saying is, you don't want to mess with me!"
The Boy in Black looked at Max for a moment before finishing off his drink and throwing it to the side. "I'm not here to fight you idiot," he scolded. "Put your fists down before you hurt yourself. You look like a buffoon."
"Why should I listen to you?" Max replied angrily, not lowering his guard. "I don't know where I am or what's going on and I especially don't know you! So I think I'll keep my fists up thank you very much!"
The Boy in Black turned away and laughed to himself. "Are you always such a stick in the mud?"
"It's been a long day," Max grit out in response. "A very long day and usually I have a lot more patience then this but today…not really. I also got pushed into a void or something by a friend or maybe it wasn't my friend and whatever. Point is, I had a bad day. My patience has worn thin. Just tell me what the hell is going on here already!"
Although Max couldn't see it, the Boy in Black rolled his eyes as he turned to face him again. "Max drop the fucking fight stance already!" he demanded. "If I wanted to beat you in a fight I would have already done that." He reached forward and took Max's wrists, forcing his arms down.
"How do you know my name?" the Swordsman blader asked with narrowed eyes of suspicion. "And how did I get here? I should have woken up at the Academy."
"Dude, we're in your head," the Boy in Black groaned in frustration. He took Max by the shoulders and shook him a little. "I know your name because I'm apart of your mind." He jabbed the side of the boy's head with a finger. "You know that thing of yours called a brain? That's where we are." He ignored Max's cries of annoyance and continued. "I know you're a little slow so I'm going to say this as simply as I possibly can. We're in some sort of void of your memories." As he promised, he annunciated very slowly as if talking to a toddler.
"What?" Max titled his head. "But…how do you fit into all of this then? I've never met you before. So why would you be here in my memory void or whatever?" he looked at the figure before him for the longest time, wracking his brain for an answer. "Just who are you?"
The Boy in Black sucked in a breath of annoyance. "I don't know. This is your head remember? If I knew the answer to all your questions, so would you." Like knives, his words cut deep. "Which means I'm either someone you've mentally repressed or someone from your tampered memories."
Max's eyes widened in shock at the revelation. "My tampered memories…" he muttered in awe. "I'd almost forgotten." For the umpteenth time today, all sense of happiness drained from him, replaced entirely with dread and uncertainty.
The Boy in Black grinned in such a way that made Max feel a little uneasy. "Now you're catching on. Let's get to work maggot. We've got a mission to complete."
To Be Continued: Next Time – Don't Look Now
Kiara heads to the third pillar where she must face Athena – the Spinstress of Chaos! But will her new powers of foresight aid her in her quest or only foretell her inevitable defeat? Meanwhile, Max continues on trying to find a way back from…wherever he is and tries to figure out who the mysterious Boy in Black is. Is he an ally or an enemy? So many questions, and some of them may be answered next time on Beyblade Metal Heroes!
So as you could probably tell, this chapter got VERY existential at one point. Which was entirely on purpose of course. I myself like this topic in stories, even though it often makes me feel quite dour for the rest of the day. But it's been something on my mind and I realized I could weave it into this chapter quite a bit. If it seems rather circular and frustrating, that's the point. Because there are no easy answers and sometimes there are no answers full stop. That fear of uncertainty and confusion can be powerful and that was something I was trying to convey in this chapter. But this does lead to the question of what the hell is happening to Max? Is he dead? Or just nearly dead? Was that Luther or not? What the hell is happening to him? And what does the Boy in Black have to do with all of this? And yes, the Boy in Black is the one who has shown up in some teasers for Season 2. There is a point to all of this, I promise. Also, some might take issue with how Simon was portrayed in this chapter so let me explain. I really wanted one of the main cast to snap because in this situation, a teenager really would probably crack under the pressure. We're getting a little meta here but I think that's for the best. It also adds to Simon's character to see him in such a vulnerable position and to see how badly this has all affected him mentally. He won't be forgetting this day anytime soon. I also think the added backstory (like with Blaze) adds some new dimension to his character. Apologies if this chapter again seems light on actual bey battles. That's mainly because I feel in retrospective that I often prioritized battles over characterization, and so now I'm trying to rectify that by giving lots of retroactive development and depth to the supporting cast. So, tell me in the reviews what excited you in this chapter and what you're looking forward to in the next chapter. That's if you feel like it or can be bothered of course.
Also, there were a couple of sneaky references in this. One from Bojack Horseman, one from Star Wars: The Last Jedi and one from Logan. Tell me if you manage to find them all.
As always, REVIEWING is if you want to or if you just want to make me happy. I'm always eager to hear what people have to say is all. Anyways, I think that's all for now. See you all next chapter. Hopefully that'll be in March sometime.
