By Mikaa, Lord of the Nova
Chapter 4 - Heroes are Chosen
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Author's Note - See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.
Also, please heed the following WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER CONTAINS HINTS OF SEXUALITY, HINTS OF YAOI-REFERENCE, SLIGHT FELIX BASHING, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF PHYSICAL BEINGS, AND VARIOUS OTHER PROFANE AND UNHOLY REFERENCES THAT ARE WELL WITHIN A RATING OF T FOR TEEN. IF ANY, I REPEAT, ANY OF THIS OFFENDS, GO FIND SOMETHING BETTER TO DO, AS I DON'T WANT YOU TO TAKE OFFENSE AFTER HAVING READ THIS WARNING.
Enjoy the show.
They should be here now.
How hard it was to fathom this nether-region of existance, never had such a problem arisen in the existance of existance. Yet even with the power to make and unmake whole micro-existances, Aeon could only ponder how he could see himself yet not see himself, how he saw darkness, yet saw nothing at all. Despite this psycological irritant, he could still see with his minds eye his being, or what was left of it after that damned war. His upper body, muscles taught and features smoother than a wee child's were a strike difference to the overgrown mesh of plants that formed his lower waist and legs. After that damned Althon blasted him, he had been forced to use a part of his then-new world of Weyard to rebuild himself, and found it insane later that he need not have bothered.
Irony was, with his short blonde hair, bare chest, moss, vines, roots, and various vegetation for a lower body, he looked for all intents and purposes more normal than his former friends.
Friends, indeed.
Friends who decided to appear now, a brief breath of time for all of them, but a period of time that lasted nearly days for the worlds they created. How was it that they would choose the Avatars before the worlds destroyed each other if they could not get together in a reasonable time frame?
First to "visualize" in the nonexistance beyond Aeon's form was that of Aaros, his form looking nothing like his ancient self, but still as twisted as ever. The skull was still human bone, but what once was flesh was replaced with alloys, plastics, and artificial electric pathways to connect to a still-organic brain, augmented with numerous nanological implants and bees, storing knowlege along a snake-like spine crusted with crystals and steel plates. Along various parts of the spine were "ribs" that housed power generators and organic fluids to provide a power source for his only pure organ in his body - his left eye. Yes, even his once cold black heart was nothing more, except as a small glimmer of data in the spine. Aaros, creator of Ardway, floated (yet did not acutally float) before him.
Next was Axole, her form one of sheer beauty. Assuming, of course, you liked beings that prefered physical pleasures over anything else. Like both Aeon himself and Aaros, Axole was changed after the forming of the four worlds, and the formation of Eyward had changed her, but in more "normal" means than her colleagues. Her hair was a gleaming rainbow of colors, flowing in a tight braid down her figure, clad in nothing more than the smooth flesh that she somehow regenerated with whatever power the Creator had bequested upon her. Yet, despite her openness with her feelings (and a few things that she did to irritate Aeon, he mused), she was one of the most caniving, backstabing, underhanded traitors one could ever find in a plane of existance. How she of all evil creatures, even Aaros, could survive Earth, was a mystery that Aeon did not want to know.
Of course, the final arrival was the most evil of all, and did little to hide it, going so far as to shroud herself in a form most appropreate of her title of Existance Killer. The bitch that slew Aeon's lower half, that started a chain of events that would lead to the demise of the Terran plane, and the destruction of the Creator, Althon. Her face was that of a small child, big blue eyes gleeming with innocence, blonde hair glowing with a heavenly light. Her chest and torso, assuming one could call them such, were a twisted mesh of flesh and spectral energy, like a glowing ghost caught in a meat grinder. The same substance made up her arms, yet her lower hips and legs streached to the end of existance, seeming to end, yet not ending. The creator of Darway had arrived, and all knew that each were here.
It was begun.
Though his words did not actually carry from his vocal cords on waves of sound and air, Aeon's message was clear, though how exaclty, only the Creator could have known. "I believe we all know what has happened; one of our creatons has found a Gateway. We must now-"
Before he could continue, a monstrous grinding of steel on daimonds broke his planned speech, and Aeon (and the others) glared at Aaros, watching as a slim, boney-appearing metal stick slowly pointed forward, a whip-like chain for a finger pointing at Aeon.
"I told you fleshy bastards that my world would find the Gateway first! Fools, never doubt the power of artificial life!"
"Psh," hissed Althon, her eyes almost able to show evil. "My world would have found it if not for that damned ward that you put on it the last time someone found a Gate! Useless hulk of metal! Still, nice to know that you found it without a hitch. I mean, how many civilizations went before your realm even NOTICED the damned thing?"
Axole released a soft, pleasent chuckle, "I find it appealing that the metal men have found the ways into my world. After all, one needs source material for those hentai writers."
Aeon, wishing that the Creator had not warded their powers from use against each other, waited for the babbling to come to an end, then just gave up. He was tired of this damn game. Every cycle, some fool would find the gate, and they would find an Avatar to fight for them, being as they could not bring their powers to bear against each other. And as with every cycle since the first, his three "friends" fought and griped to the point that he wished that he could destory them and damn their worlds, thereby ending his existance along with theirs and let him be at peace.
Well, screw existane, or whatever made for it these eons. Releasing his fury in a bolt of pure hate, he unleased his wrath in the form of a living energy blast, only to have it come back at him, flames of radiant energy scorched his being, only to be healed and burned again.
The others took notice, noting the sudden change; never since the second cycle had there been a deviation from their routine. So second nature was it to babble on, Aaron's crystal bee memory beams seemed to stop their tasks, as taken aback as their creator.
As the fires dissipated, Aeon shot a glare through his scared flesh, holding a glare at each of them as his skin healed, muscle by muscle. "Now, then. We need to choose an Avitar for our worlds so that we may prevent one plane from absorbing another, thereby ending existance."
A soft chuckle from Axole almost made him unleash his firey wrath again. "You would not do that; you love those cute little munchkins too much to damn them to nothing. Why, you yourself even visit that world from time to time! You love it!"
Althon snorted, "Love it my wishbone. Damn fruit just wants to seed his soldiers so he can defeat us and still keep this tortuous plane alive!"
Axole released a laugh, much to Althon's disgust. "My my, Aeon, how alike you and I! You mingle with the fairer sex of your world too?"
Aaron waved his finger around, the motions looking like a pathetic strand of beads waving in the wind. "I have to wonder, Althon, what is wrong with meddling personally in a world? I love to tweak a few artificial nanotrites, Axole likes to have those orgies, so what if Aeon likes to play tentacle plant with a few men?"
Infuriated at Aaron's apparently successful efforts to goad him into picking a weak Avatar, Aeon spoke, "I choose Alex."
"ALEX? HA ha ha!" Althon's laughter, much as a child when having consumed far too much sugar, was insane. "You don't even keep tabs on your own damn plane! Do you not know that he is dead, and has been since those trolls of primitive flesh managed to extinguish that time bomb you tried to pull on us? Don't think we did not notice your attempts to end your own plane."
Aeon frowned, ignoring the now constant banter from his comrades. He was so sure he felt Alex in his realm, how was it that they said he was dead? Irrelivant. Be that as it may that Alex was not dead, he would gladly choose his second choice than have to put up with these bastards another moment. "Then, Felix, damnit, Felix!"
"Oh, the yaoi one? I always found angsty teens to be so sexy!"
"Damnit Axole, cut out the wacky fantasies of yours!" Aaron had suprised Aeon by speaking up, not to mention the others. "Next you will tell us how you plan to try to bed my Avatar, Isaac!"
"Now that you mention it..." She quickly waved her hands in a "just kidding" manner, hoping to salvage herself. It was a moot attempt. "Well, I choose Mia. Althor?"
"AlthoN, slut. AlthoN. I choose... Hm, so many to choose from, so little time... Aw, screw it. Since the guys choose guys, I guess we might as well make it equal and let me have a lady as well."
"Now that's not a bad-"
"Finish that statement, Axole, and know my wrath."
"You can't hurt me, though you are welcome to try."
"No, you'd enjoy it. I say Jenna."
Aeon rolled his eyes. It took this long to get to choosing who they would grant supreme power to? Sweet Creator, what did he do to deserve this? Even destroying the Earth could not have earned him this hell! "I suggest we leave and make our ways to... preparing." He tried to ignore the winks that both Axole and Aaon gave him, and refused to look at Althon. "May our worlds win, and may we survive to...see each other again.
As Aaron faded in a flash of electric spark and Axole winked out of existance, Aeon was far from suprised to see Althon still nearby. "Trust me, Aeon, we don't like this any more than you do."
"It was your fault to begin with, trickster."
"Maybe. Or maybe it was your love that killed the earth. I don't care what it was, but let's get one thing strait - I hate this life as much as you hate yours, maybe even moreso. So don't think you are the only poor soul here? Now good luck, yaoi fanboy."
For lack of a better target, Aeon once again unleashed his fury into nothingness, wishing the Creator had simply let him die instead of this life...
End of Chapter 4