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"Your pride and your arrogance have always led you to underestimate those who you hold in high contempt. You are so blinded by your own capabilities that you fail to see the potential they hold. Yes, the Children of Elyon are flawed, due to your corrupting of all Creation. They steal. They cheat. They destroy wantonly. They indulge in pleasures in ways and amounts that Elyon has not permitted. They fail to live up to the standards of perfection that say, Elyon or Mekhane has. But despite their fallen nature, they are capable of so much more than you can account for, and they have done just that. There is a reason why Elyon created them in His image, but know that you will never understand that. It is because they embody His will, old friend. To never give up and to always move forward, past whatever horrors you can concoct for them. Never underestimate humanity's potential, and remember that your final doom will come from them.
-quote attributed to either Gabriel or Nahash the Great Serpent, in a conversation with Nyarlathotep, an avatar of the Shadow.
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"Really, Hopper? The blasted spear is too heavy?"
The Spear of the Unbeliever, or Non-believer, or Atheist, or whatever you like, weighed a billion, billion pounds to those who do believe, whatever that is supposed to mean. The perfect weapon, the bringer of oblivion, one of the most powerful weapons in the multiverse, ranking above the Sword of Lucifer, Mjolnir, Cronus's Sickle, the only thing strong enough to instantly slay nearly any being, could simply not be moved.
"Yes, really. It is too heavy. Give me a hand with this thing, the Rounderpede probably needs it for...well, you know. The Three Moons have probably already arrived, but those damned Changelings will keep coming until we use...alright, the spell should need about three pinches of Volatus, twenty of Aer..."
After the incantation was complete, the Spear started to levitate. L.S conjured a comfortable pair of riding seats, siphoning off the Spear's natural magical energy. After affixing the seats to the weapon, both Hand members rocketed back toward the battlefield.
As the shelves passed with a nostalgic regularity, L.S thought about how the others would fare. The Shadow would need to be curbed in their world once the Library had been made safe, but it seemed as though even the Spear could not wholly protect that land. The Shadow would return again and again until its vengeance had been exacted, let it be a hundred years, a thousand, a million, however long it took for the watch to lessen and unnamable horrors to pour through the seams of reality once again.
L.S thought of entities that they could appeal to if Elyon would not act. Mekhane? Long broken. The Serpent was far too busy and exiled. Even an Archangel could not stop a full-on attack by the Shadow singlehandedly, and they had many more duties than attending to a single world. Father Time was outside of the ordered universe, and the Elder Things would not intervene until the End. The Brothers Three were implacable. The Hand and the Library were not mighty enough to make an eternal garrison. Whatever would happen?
Heh. Elyon created the Heavens and the Earth from nothing. Or that's at least what the catechism teacher wanted me to believe. The truth is far, far scarier than that, and much bigger and meaner. Elyon imprisoned many pre-existential entities before the Tree of Life was fully forged. Azathoth, Qlippoth, the Shadow...it escaped, as it was the most powerful besides Elyon, being the inverse of Him. Outside the Multiverse there are surreal beings beyond our imagining. And none of them are going to help us. What losers! Content in their power, believing that they are the ones that will survive the Last Battle.
The shelves were becoming more sparse, and the scars of war were becoming more severe as the lightning-crowned sky covered the endless war. Gods and lesser celestial beings were now attempting to contain the rapidly encroaching Scarlet King, and the kindjal warships of the Three Moons Initiative were being summoned from every corner of the multiverse to blast the rouge Ways into oblivion. Bristling with atomics and pulse missiles, the vessels would surely annihilate conventional or unprotected forces.
Now glowing, the Spear of the Non-believer pointed in the direction of the new commander of the Forces of Shadow: Armaros, the greatest and first of the Children of A'tellif to have ever been spawned. A twenty-foot-tall demon of fire and shadow, with a body darker than a cosmic gulf, it could fight a god and effortlessly win. It was an incarnate Deceiver, a Shapeshifter, a Lover of Confusion and pointless chaos. The few dozen other Changelings rallied about it, creating Ways on a piecemeal basis to replace the ones destroyed by the defenders or the Library itself.
The Spear could only be commanded by those that it deemed worthy, and L.S and Agent Hopper were not its first choice. A god and a mortal working together could perhaps unite the Spear's interests to defeat the Shadow, but what god would wish to aid two insignificant little humans?
An encroaching wave of greenish silver formed before the two, a sight and terror to behold as it soaked the wooden floor and partially uprooted carpet. The wrathful sea changed into the hroa of a great being, bearing a trident of pure gold, encrusted with grey and rusted barnacles. "The Spear of the Non-believer, the Godsbane, has come to fight in the hands of the guardians of the Library! Let us fight and be merry!"
The Spear became light enough to carry, and it broke free of its magical constraints to hover before the being. "That's a good thing, right?"
"It knows me!" The god chuckled. "I cannot say that I am surprised. But fear not, little ones! I am a deity, Poseidon, Neptune, the Lord of the Sea, Earth-shaker! The sea runs through my veins. The forces of the deeps are at my command, and I understand the language of the waves. Let us unite and topple the Black Foe, for the sea does not brook restraint."
The waves at Poseidon's feet arced in fissiparous tendrils, until they came to rest in the form of an aquarian horse. Taking the cue, L.S and Hopper jumped on the hippocampi's back, and rode by Poseidon's side into the confusion.
A demon whale in the sea god's command devoured a selachian beast, while a number of aquatic warriors coasted in fish-scale armor of deep green and blue and overwhelmed legions of oversized and misshaped crab-things. Before the Trident of Poseidon, many fell, and the crashing of the waves drowned only those who had provoked the wrath of the Library, but delivered all those who were defending it from the torrents of crystal water.
Armaros saw the god, the mortals, and the Spear, and judged that it was being challenged. It summoned a whip with thongs of obsidian and tassels of flame, while in the other claw it bore a blade of dull steel, carved with the foul runes of the maggot-folk of the Abyss.
Poseidon blew the horn of the seas with a sound of many waters, and the host of the Sea was assembled in response. The Rounderpede dived into the fray, ready to end to fight for good. The lines of bombers waited in the air, covered by a protective net of scrambler shields. The Spear was growing warmer...
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Uvanimor: term for the Monsters of the Abyss.
Beyond the party grounds, a battle was raging within the dark woods of southern Roria.
"Back! Back!" Bronze yelled, ordering Electrivire to summon another energy blast. "What is this supposed to be?! The last hurrah of the Evil Djinn? Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of! And how do I close this portal?! Think, think, think!"
Thurrius exited the Abyss into the confines of ordered spacetime, his flowmetal body encased in a suit of hell-forged armor. Bearing a dual-bladed greatsword, he eyed Bronze as a carnivore would eye a fair dainty. The Shadow's misshapen uvanimor paused in their march, cowering in supplication before the thing that had animated them and filled them with his dark Willpower.
"Thinking will not avail you, Son of Earth," Thurrius boasted, the words a horrifying combination of soulless iron tones with a tinge of primeval wickedness. "For I have already calculated every possible scenario that may befall us at this point. You will fall alone. I am not the Mbelekoro, and this is not of his will, if that is what you are insinuating. I am the Master of the Mbelekoro, the Spirit-force and unconscious master and source of evil which he would knowingly serve if he had worshipped anyone but himself. I am the Great Shadow, Qlippoth, Azathoth, the Constrictor, the Final Victor, the Source of Evil, the Prime Enemy, the Bane of Elyon..."
To Bronze's surprise, Thurrius continued on with his self-aggrandizing speech for another minute. By that time, Bronze had already destroyed the paralyzed monsters, and had Mega Evolved Absol to continue the fight. "Sharpedo, Scald. Absol, Future Sight."
The superheated spray of water knocked Thurrius off balance, although he quickly recalibrated his internal verbitobrain to account for the new hostile stimuli. Stopping his rant, Thurrius simulated a laugh. "Really? I am the avatar of the Daemon Sultan! I am born of the songs that Elyon sang to create Himself and all the world into being! Your puny attack cannot harm me-"
Future Sight took effect. Thurrius spasmed as his body was hit by the psychic, penetrating force of the attack. The evermind's left arm was mangled, and the flowmetal face mask had been scarred. Some nanites automatically repaired the damaged internal circuitry, but a few markings upon Thurrius' metallic chest were not healing.
Electrivire delivered a staggering blow to Thurrius before he could fully compute what happened, and Magnezone rolled into a Gyro Ball and hit the bulky combat mech to devastating effect. Charizard blinded the Shadow-avatar's optical sensors with a Flamethrower attack, and Absol slowly withered Thurrius's body with Future Sight. The robot attempted to throw his greatsword at Bronze, before realizing that it had been swapped with a Lum Berry, courtesy of Sharpedo. Steelix gave Thurrius a devastating headbutt at Mach speed, and the nearly indestructible armor of the robot did little to stop the concussive force from shaking his internal gelcircutry.
Thurrius delivered a few half-powered energy blasts, but the hide of a Pokémon is not easily broken. Steelix smashed the mech into the earth with the point of its tail, creating a phenomenal crater. Sharpedo doused Thurrius's malfunctioning rocket boosters with Brine, and Electrivire held the robot's head in an electrically charged headlock. Charizard grabbed Thurrius's left leg, while Magnezone used its magnetic pull to further capture the avatar.
Now that Thurrius had been completely pinned down, Absol delivered concentrated psychic blasts to the robot's gelcircuty and appendages, under Bronze's guidance. The flowmetal arms fell off, completely severed. The vocal emulator was nearly destroyed. The piezoelectric reactor within Thurrius's chest was been disabled. As a final precaution, Bronze had Absol blind the robot, cutting out its reddish ocular receptors. No chances could be taken.
The artificial portal was still active, a window into a primal sort of Nothing that could hardly be conceived. Windowless eight-dimensional solids, grey and black patches of gooey darker and lighter darkness, proto-gods, and far more horrors that could scarcely be imagined or conceived of. It reminded Bronze of the glimpse he had at the new creation through the Bronze Portal in the Demon's Tomb, and it was not a welcome memory.
"Proud as you are," Bronze began, still keeping a safe distance from the fallen avatar. "I have defeated you. I will let you go back to whatever land you hail from if you remain completely honest and cooperative, for I am obliged to show you more mercy than you would have shown to me. You will tell me how to close that portal."
Thurrius simulated a cough, mocking Bronze's human perception of injury. "I will not, although I do indeed know how to accomplish such a deed. Although I find mechanical bodies to be less satisfactory holders of my Will than organic ones, they have their merits. I feel no fear. I feel no pain. No threat of torture or destruction will move me to help you."
Bronze believed him. "I will close it for myself. Absol, end it."
"Do not go gently into that good night!" Thurrius screamed, as he waited for the Future Sight to take effect. "Fight, fight against the dying light-"
The robot's gelcircutry brain exploded with the psychic force of a uber-concentrated Future Sight. Thurrius slumped, wholly destroyed, scrap ready to be melted into parts. Useless. What a far fall for one so mighty!
Amid the corpses of fallen uvanimor and the remains of the avatar, Bronze stood, trembling with exertion. A single foe required a combined effort by his entire team to defeat...and good Arceus! Where had it come from? What was its purpose? And how would Bronze destroy the gateway?
First, a safe application of energy might be all that was needed to collapse the portal. Magnezone fired a Tri-Attack into the portal, although the elemental barrage vanished into the Stygian darkness. Pointless, and a similar attack on the malevolently glowing portal frame itself bore no fruit.
Since the portal was not visibly waning in power, Bronze decided that the best possible course of action was to leave the site and report to the others about the gateway, so that it might be contained and preserved for future study. Perhaps it had similar characteristics to Ultra Wormholes? Or was it entirely different?
To no surprise at all, the Chairman and Gold ran into the ruined clearing, gaping in shock at the devastation. Others had probably heard the din and seen the blinding lights of the battle and were likely on route to the clearing as Bronze stood.
"I demand an explanation!" The Chairman blustered. "What are these dead...things? Ugh! And there is a destroyed metal...humanoid in the middle of a crater? And what is that rift?!"
"Your guess is as good as mine, sir." Bronze said. "Those things I am glad to have killed. The robot is a tale for another time, but the invaders were definitely hostile. I do not know about the gateway's nature or origin, and as of now it is a threat and security risk to the entire world. Who knows what may emerge from it?"
Gold poked a bulb-eyed creature's corpse with his pool cue. "Nasty little bastards, ain't they? Not Pokémon, that's for sure. Wonder if Tess and th' others disappearing has something to do with this?"
"More than you know, boy. Die!"
Bronze turned, and was promptly grabbed by a metal claw, reaching from the ground. Thurrius was somehow active again, his repair nanites having undone much of the damage done to his body in the previous battle. But the gelcircutry brain couldn't possibly have regenerated...
Absol bit down on the mutilated arm, the dark energy in the attack causing the robot to release his hold on Bronze. Thurrius fired his suspension jets, and was promptly thrown into the gateway by an airborne strike from Steelix.
"Do you need any more proof, Chairman?"
Gold was bug-eyed, but he noticed something emerging from the inky black beyond the rift. Yelling for Bronze to duck, the Pokedex Holder sent out his own Pokmon in preparation for the fight ahead.
Thurrius roared out of the gateway with the sound of a steel glove banging on a massive drum, his red cape floating behind him. The robot was now about a fourth larger, and no longer had any humanoid facial features besides two pairs of ocular receptors, each above the other, adding to the hate emanated from every pore of the synthetic lifeform. It now had a new greatsword, grafted to its silvery hand.
"Fools!" Thurrius roared, his voice far louder than. ever before. "I am a sentient amalgamation of the Forces of Darkness in the entire Multiverse! I do not need a brain to survive! I will regenerate into greater and greater forms with every defeat! I cannot, will not be stopped in my conquest of retribution! He is here...I can feel him! He is getting closer-"
Gold's Typolosion, Tybo, attacked with Blast Burn, making Thurrius's shigaweave cape dissolve. So much for a cosmetic look...
"Blahblahblah!" Gold yelled, giving Thurrius the middle finger. "All-powerful god and whatever! Well, buddy, I've fought gods before and won! I don't care who you are and what you're doing here. If you are threatening this world, my friends, and everything I like about it, you are in for an ass-kicking! You can't possibly be that strong if Bronze managed to defeat you on his first try! Bring it on, loser!"
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"Nice little reunion we've got here," Hopper said, watching the Rounderpede and Posedien begin to duel with Armaros. "It really is good to be back, even at the End of All Things."
The tip of the Spear was shining a phosphorus white. In the distant fog-depths of its silver, a glow was forming like a campfire seen faintly in the grey predawn. It was growing in brightness and breadth as the battle increased, at the time for its use became nearer and nearer.
And then the Spear rocketed forward of its own accord.
Memory may fail here. There are too many parts, and too many frames of reference put into the battle.
Shattered darkness is thrown about on a razorblade wind. The Rounderpede cleared a path through it, its metallic visage streaming across the broken field of war. Thousands of Docents charge the lesser Changelings in synchroneity. Hopper fires his photon disperser again and again. L.S screams and panics, swinging to and fro on the hippocampus. Poseidon and the many legs of the Head Librarian masterfully counter the dark blade of Armaros. Back and forth, back and forth, feet dancing, blades singing. Armaros dove about to avoid the spear like a roving black hole, trailing streamers of oozing darkness.
The Spear was a sharpened line, a cutting edge. The music from within the weapon swells, calling up emotions that many had deadened in their hearts. Watch now, as true blows are struck.
Poseidon strikes first, piercing the Changeling's right eye. The Rounderpede stabs the left eye and the torso, also rendering the right arm useless. Hopper and L.S fire a concentrated pulse through Armaros's blackened heart, right before the Spear engages the demon for the fate of the Library.
The others feel the compulsion to step back, and space is cleared for the battle to continue. The fight is down to two. A good fight is always two.
Elyon and the Shadow watch, and think about how it has always been two.
There was a final clash of blades, and the combatants are sent spinning away from each other. There is a pause. The Commander of the Black Forces is blinded, wounded, and impaled on the Trident of Poseidon and the Rounderpede's legs. The Spear remains afire.
Armaros roars and charges, blade lifted high.
The Spear is a beam of fire, cutting the air in half, a vaporous cone of tattered smoke behind it.
The demon's face is frozen in a moment of final realization...
...as the Spear turns its broken body into ash.
Sunbeam-burning fire dripped from the space once occupied by the First Changeling. He lifted his dissolving hand and shattered weapon, and he makes to drag himself forward, still resisting his Doom.
"Enough, already!"
The Brothers Three appeared behind the creature. The Youngest's sickle shines without light. He slits the beast's throat, and no fire is left. The corpse faded, sinking into the Abyss.
The last Changelings wailed as they were torn to pieces by the Docents. The Rounderpede gives the last command of the battle, the final push of the Free Peoples against their seemingly unstoppable foes.
The Scarlet King is coming. The Ways are burning with a red light.
A barrage of atomics falls, and the forces of evil were broken. The rouge Ways no longer protect them, and they become ash and dust. The bombs danced and twirled about, orbiting bodies drawing closer to the peak of their blast radius. Their forms intertwine, merge, and become one light.
There is only the Library now, and it is healing. The radiation is absorbed and washed away, the battle scars repairing themselves. The Free Fighters rejoice and rally for another assault on the worlds of the Shadow in the near future. The Brothers Three are not to be seen. The Scarlet King has fled, and a new day is dawning. The Docents swarm the remnants of evil. The shelves are at peace.
L.S and Hopper begin to weep. The Library has been made safe once again. The Spear rested beside L.S, beckoning to be wielded again. Nolek appeared out of the shelves, and seeing that the battle had been won and the gateways made safe and stable once more, summoned a Way to the world where his friends had gone...and where the final loose end now fought...Thurrius.