A/N: OH MY GOD! Am I updating? Yes I am! WOW! …Anyway… this chapter was very hard to write. Yess'um. And it might be a little confusing. Heck, it might be SO confusing that you may be tempted to drive some kind of random, pointed stick through me, impaling my spine. Whatever. Actually, I'd be surprised if anyone still remembers this fic. But I knew I'd update it eventually, so on with Chapitre Huit! (Ah'm French!)

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Chapter Eight - Memory Split

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"Let's get started, shall we?"

The game proposed to them was revealed piece by piece. A hush fell among the four do-gooders as they watched the area around them transform. The blank void in which they had previously been floating began to display, in vivid color, little snippets from each of their lives. It was different for each person as they watched their entire life re-enact before them.

Cosmo's was relatively simple. His blissful childhood years (and the Fairy Academy sentence that was quick to follow), his marriage with Wanda, and all the godkids they'd "helped" over the years. Wanda's own visions were quite similar, only instead of watching a carefree, innocent childhood, she'd been accustomed to one with less games and more responsibility.

Despite Cosmo and Wanda being significantly older than Timmy and Trixie, the latter pair had just as many important points compressed into those few seconds of flashbacks. Most of Trixie's, of course, were only memories of enjoying her high social status and upper-class existence. Timmy's, however, were a different story. Out of all of them, the most events had flashed before his own eyes; he'd seen each and every tedious year of his carefully-recorded childhood, in a matter of seconds that seemed to last an eternity. Then came Vicky, and shortly afterwards, Cosmo and Wanda. From there, the real misadventures came into play: Life as an action movie star. Aiding the Crimson Chin as Cleft: The Boy Chin Wonder. Living in a world without girls.

With a careful swish of his hand, Anti-Cosmo ended the flashback sequence, and the four were brought back into reality.

"You've just witnessed your own lives. Years and years of precious memories packed into a matter of seconds. How do you feel?"

Cosmo took a moment to dwell on this question. "All the bright colors made me dizzy - I'm still a little nauseous." He answered, truthfully.

Anti-Cosmo rolled his eyes. "Button your blabberhole, Counterpart. I'm asking for particular emotions."

Timmy was still recovering from the flashback sequence. His head hurt a little, and he did feel a little queasy (like Cosmo had pointed out). He straightened his hair subconsciously, as the sweat was making it stick to his face. "Emotion? You're asking about our feelings? Why?"

"No reason." The Anti drawled slyly.

Trixie took a deep breath, but in a state of terror, she was deflated in seconds anyway. Truth be told, a third-person view of her life had made her truly realize how snobbish she had once been. She was having a hard time comprehending it.

"Maybe this is part of the game..." She whispered.

However, this only earned her a skeptical look from Cosmo. He was holding the Monopoly instruction manual up to his face, skimming the directions. "Hmmm... Nope! Nowhere in this freakishly long booklet does it mention visually re-conceiving memories from our ancient past... hey! I didn't know I knew those words!"

Wanda gripped the book away form Cosmo angrily, and hastily flung it aside. "Get a grip, Cosmo!" She finally shouted, her patience gone. "Try and focus!"

Cosmo started to pout, first softly and pathetically, than louder and more determined. "Some people! And I was just on the verge of a breakthrough!"

"Reality, sweetie! It's called reality! The rest of us live in it and someday you should too!" Wanda snapped.  

Anti-Cosmo brought an abrupt end to the bickering. "ENOUGH!"

Immediately, the others fell silent.

"Good..." He spoke, suddenly calm. "Now, the fun really starts here... Ready to play the game?" The others knew it wasn't a question, so they didn't bother replying. "We're going to let Timothy decide the fate of all mankind!"

A brilliant flash from Anti-Cosmo's massive wand reverberated across the empty void, making the overlord's four captives flinch in pain.

POOF!

Timmy desperately tried to stay awake. He suddenly felt very tired, very woozy and light-headed. His eyelids felt as if they were made of lead, and keeping them open was a heavy burden.

A warm feeling of total nothingness passed through his system and he slipped into unconsciousness once more.

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Anti-Cosmo twiddled his fingers in anticipation, watching the four-cornered arena before him slowly transform at his will. What he was about to witness, he was certain, would keep him entertained for a long time. What was pathetic Timothy going to do?

 BA-DEM! BA-DEM! BA-DEM!

Three massive stage-lights flickered to life, illuminating the vast arena they were centered around. The three loud pangs brought Timmy Turner out of his desperate slumber.

"Huh?"                           

Timmy raised a hand to his head. He felt a little nauseous. But the nausea was quickly replaced with confusion as he realized his entire arm was encased in a protective, pad-like coating of metal.

With a startled gasp, he began to inspect the rest of himself. He looked like one of the heroes in an overly-hyped battle anime. He tried to bring his gloved hands to his face, but there was a glass barrier in the way. It was part of the helmet he was wearing.

"WHAT IS GOING ON!?!" He nearly screamed. His nerves (or lack thereof) had gotten the best of him.

The trio of stage-lights slowly began to dim. The change in lighting alerted Timmy to observe his environment a little more. He was standing on one of twenty pod-like platforms, hovering in midair. Below him was nothing but pitch-black. He gulped, wondering what would happen to him should he have the misfortune to fall.

"Hello again, Timothy! Sleep well?"

It was Anti-Cosmo's voice, blaring through the stadium like a commentator. The overlord himself was nowhere in sight

"What kind of game is this!?" The boy demanded.

"Oh dear! Did I say game? When I said game, I meant deathmatch." Unsurprisingly, Anti-Cosmo sounded just as pleased as ever. "Sorry about the confusion."

Deathmatch. Timmy's eyes bulged right out of their sockets. That meant he would have to fight something. A dragon? A banshee? A basilisk?

The door opposite him in the arena was slowly drawn open. The silhouetted figure that approached from behind seemed small and sleek. It was far too puny to be any kind of mythical creature.

"Well, I guess it's me versus the creature of the unknown." Timmy muttered, trying to calm his nerves. But he was still very confused. Where were Cosmo and Wanda? Where was Trixie?

The voice of the commentator - Anti-Cosmo - rang out through the stadium once more. "Can I elaborate just a little more? It's actually going to be a four-way deathmatch."

As if the arena were adjusting to these new details, forty more platforms arose from the hollow emptiness below.

"In this particular battle, you will be pitted against three of my shadow troopers. This battle will determine whether or not, Timothy, you will have the option of rescuing mankind."

Timmy began to panic. What exactly did he have to fight?! Raptors?! The thought terrified him. Please, not raptors. He'd never been the speediest of kids his age - it showed through his average in gym - but raptors, on the other hand…

Trying to shake these unpleasant thoughts out of his head, Timmy sprung from his platform, and landed safely on the one next to it, using his heavily-padded knees to absorb the impact of the collision. Taking a deep breath, he repeated this process, until he had safely hopped his way to the middle of the arena.

He did a quick scan of the area.

His three opponents, their identities still hidden by the shadows, were stationed each at a respective corner of the stadium. He tried to keep an eye on each of them, but such was impossible from where he stood.

There was the slightest movement as one of his enemies floated towards another platform…

Timmy shrunk back in horror. His cool, metal-plated bodysuit didn't do anything to help him feel more confident. Did it even have any weapons?

"Now Timothy, it won't be any fun without a weapon! Try your wrist plate."

Well, he is the all-knowing one here. Trying to keep himself under control, Timmy fiddled with the little panel on his wrist plate. There were a few little buttons, but he wasn't sure what they did. He punched in a few of them, desperately hoping they were useful...

…and a thick, sturdy beam sword ejected from his armored wrist.

Suddenly feeling a great deal more sure of himself, Timmy found the courage to raise his voice. He had a few questions for his 'overlord'.

"Why are you doing this, Anti-Cosmo!? And where are my friends?!"

The response sounded none too intimidated. "It's a seeee-cret!"

Timmy tested the beam sword by slashing the air in front of him. It made a cool whizzy noise. He'd used beam swords before (at least, in his dreams, when Cosmo and Wanda were trying to distract him from his Fairy-Versary party), but never before was he up against such an ultimate threat.

"Why don't you show yourself?!" Timmy demanded to the empty air around him.

"Cut with the chatter, Timothy! You still have three of my loyal subjects to defeat before you earn the privileges of talking with me in person! Let's focus on your little deathmatch now, hmmm?"

Timmy sighed, exasperated. He felt… like he were in a video game. And unlike most other kids, he could use that simile truthfully, because he had actually been in a video game once before. With renewed vigor, he made his way across the arena, focusing on the first of his masked opponents.

"As soon as these three are toast, you'd better let my godparents and girlfriend go!"

"But Timothy, would I really have any other option?" Anti-Cosmo's disembodied voice sounded very sure of itself.

The boy suddenly felt surrounded. There were three enemies stationed around him, and an all-powerful overlord of black magic hidden somewhere within the rafters. He was just a thirteen-year old with a beam sword.

But really, now, how many thirteen-year olds get to fight evil with a beam sword?!

With a crazed battle cry, Timmy leaped at the first of his masked enemies. With the posture and grace of an avid gamer with at least fourteen first-person shooters, he expertly swung the sword around on his wrist, distracting his opponent with the technique of a master.

"Are you making the right choice, Timothy?!" Anti-Cosmo's mocking voice inquired of him.

"Duh."

"Are you sure?"

Timmy ignored the tyrant's monstrous voice (so it wouldn't become distraction), and without hesitation, plunged the glowing edge of the sword into the ninja-like enemy's black suit. He felt not a hint of remorse as his opponent fell to the ground in a bloodied heap. Maybe it was just the heat of battle, but Timmy seemed to ignore the fact that the enemy had not even attempted to fight back.

It had been surprisingly easy.

Timmy quickly turned his head, a new flame of vengeance surfacing in his veins. He caught a glimpse of the second of the three villains attempting to hover away from the scene.

Scared of Timmy's amazing beam sword sk1llz? Trying to hide?

"Oh, no you don't!"

The metal-plated bodysuit seemed to give him some kind of additional energy that he never noticed before. Timmy effortlessly closed the gap between them, bounding from platform to platform, with only thoughts of vengeance running through his mind…

The short, floating black trooper saw that it was being trailed, and promptly picked up the pace. But Timmy only quickened his leaps until he was within the enemy's range.

WHIZZZZZ-OOOMM!

The beam sword worked its wonders once more. The second opponent had fallen.

"You're not doing so shabby, Timothy… Although, that's assuming that your intentions are to kill those soldiers of mine." Anti-Cosmo sounded like someone with a dirty little secret.

"It's no use trying to distract me. You know I… I love Cosmo, Wanda, and Trixie… and I'm not going to give up." Timmy didn't know how virtuous it was supposed to sound, but he did an okay job.

"Your loss."

What a psychopathic nutjob. Timmy tried not to let Anti-Cosmo's taunts get to him as he searched the arena for the last enemy. Finally, he saw him/her/it, in the middle of the arena, leaping from platform to platform stealthily and with carefully-planned precision.

He imagined the last one would be more of a threat than the other two.

Readying his trusty beam sword, the teenaged godchild leapt into the fray, preparing to strike. The last, ninja-esque enemy only kept its distance, crouched on its knees in a defensive stance. It did nothing to attack.

"These henchmen of yours are pathetic." Timmy shouted to Anti-Cosmo (wherever he was). He couldn't help himself.

"I don't find that offensive at all."

Ignoring the dictator's last comment, Timmy closed in on his opponent, who promptly began to back away. The boy only continued in his pursuit, hoping to get the adversary pinned against a corner.

The shadow troopers were total pushovers.

Timmy swung his uber-cool beam sword, slashing the air in front of him, missing the shadow trooper by a quarter of an inch. Adrenaline surging, he tried again, but no progress was made. The last one was too agile.

But he wasn't worried, because they were almost to a corner of the stadium.

"Aren't you going to try and fight back?" Timmy demanded. He was amazed as the words passed through his mouth; he assumed he was just shocked from how easy it had been to destroy the trooper's two comrades.

Whump! The shadow trooper, in a moment of confusion, tripped over itself and toppled into the dark corner of the arena. It was trapped, defenseless, doomed.

"Really, Anti-Cosmo, that was too easy."

Timmy raised his beam sword, preparing for the final blow. He had the trooper cornered on its back, and there was nowhere it could go…

…But in the pressure of the moment, and probably as a result of all the action, a black veil fell from the ninja-like enemy's face… Revealing two mascara'd human eyes.

Timmy's own eyes widened in shock, and he desperately tried to stop the descent of his beam sword. But it kept its momentum and kept going… as if his hands had minds of their own.

WHUMP-ZZZING.

The beam sword made a swift downward cut, bringing the last shadow trooper out of its misery. Timmy stared, in disbelief, for a few seconds, before he fell to his knees and began to quiver in silence.

"You lost, Timothy. Boo-hoo for you!"

The boy's desperate sobs wracked the stadium as he realized what he'd done.

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A/N: The last two (possibly one) chapter(s) shall be posted in time. Patience, my friend.