The Armor Chooses

The armor chooses its wearer.

A/N: So, confession time. I've been re-watching this series recently, and I've wanted to write something about it for close to fifteen years. This is my first attempt with these characters.

With that being said, I present these vignettes in the order I wrote them. No more than that. I apologize for any mistakes and hope you enjoy!

Dais

Waves of heat shimmered along the road that bordered fields on one side, forest on the other. He walked alone, unaffected by the sweltering rays of the sun as they drained the earth of moisture. He had left his companions miles behind, those too weak to make the burning journey. He walked on.

Why, though? Back to a building that was not his home, back to the simple pursuits of a life that held no interest for him? He knew he had the potential to do greater things. Just as the bitter reality of life crept deeper into his thoughts, within the dazzling illusions of heat, a light shone in the field, like a beacon directed solely to him. Its beam landed at his feet as a swell of power rose in his soul. He paused in his stride. Like a thousand tiny leg crawling over his body, he felt the call and answered.

He left the road without hesitation, his footfalls assured as he made his way across the field to the light before him, as it moved deeper within its deceptive distance. Yes, this was the call his heart had yearned for, the life beyond the one he had been forced to live of repetitive daily tasks and back breaking labor, toward something greater.

Slowly, within the waves of heat, a figure appeared. Armor, dazzling armor, that seemed to move in the humidity. He approached cautiously, aware of every whirl and click of the insects around him, of the un-natural silence that replaced it as he entered the circle that surrounded the armor: a perimeter of scorched earth, desiccated crops that lay flattened to the ground.

On the edge of sound, a low thump, in time with his own quickened heart, began to increase in volume. This was his means of escape! He stepped forward, his way to freedom and power! Take it and make it yours! Just beyond his reach for the armor, he stopped.

Was this a trap?

The heart beat stuttered a moment, as did his own. And then he knew he was caught. It didn't matter if it was or not, the armor would be his, damn the consequences! He reached out to touch the helmet.

"Do you desire this armor?" the voice seemed to be asking from a great distance, the accent strange.

"I do," he stated, straining to touch, but just beyond his grasp.

"Vow to serve me and you may take it," the voice sounded nearer this time.

Tentatively, he knelt, bowed and said, "I will serve you or any master to possess this armor."

"Then rise, Dais, and join me as my Demon of Illusion," the voice boomed from all around, echoing into the distance as he stood and placed a hand on the armor's helmet. Waves of heat and gossamer strands of web swept over him as the world went dark. He could feel it, like a drink of water on a sweltering day, the power and energy rushing in to fill him. Eagerly, he received and knew this was the path he should have ventured down years ago.

He opened his eye again to see an open doorway before him. No waves of heat obstructed it the way the world around him now was. This was the only real thing anymore. The armor he wore and this gaping door that would lead him to a world more suited to his tastes, willing to receive the cunning he offered.

Without a backward glance, he marched forward, enjoying each resounding step he took toward the gates of opportunity.