CHAPTER SEVEN

PROMISES

Right before them were hundreds of galaxies – not planets, entire galaxies – only a few hundred light years apart, and none of them affected by one another's gravitational fields. What was most stunning was that the galaxies were not randomly clumped together, but rather they were surrounding several planets. One of them was a medium sized, glowing planet covered in cities and glowing like a giant Christmas bulb. Another one was covered in red light and fire, and yet another was glowing like a giant candle tip. There were thirteen planets in total, and most of them looked like normal planets, some jungle-covered and some looking like Earth. The thirteenth planet, however, was the one that shocked Presul and Acreb.

It was a HUGE planet, easily the size of Jupiter, if not larger. Three huge rings, like atomic electron rings from early electron models, slowly spun around the planet and rotated like calm ocean waves. The planet was bright green, orange, purple, white, blue, silver, and yellow, and was sparkling like a diamond. A veil of glittering mist surrounded the whole planet, giving it a sense of mystery and suspense. Presul and Acreb were utterly speechless. The rest of the crew, their eyesight recovering, stood in awe of what lay before them. Some called the central, glittering planet Judgment Day, others called it similar names in other languages, and some were totally undecipherable. However, one thing remained the same – that it was the one world that no one thought existed.

"Is that…" Acreb stammered.

"I think so," Presul replied. He closed his eyes, and the whole universe around them pulse, and the planet ahead of them flashed, for a moment, a bright burst of golden light before fading away.

"That is!" Presul gasped. "That cannot be possible…"

"Secure this whole area!" Acreb barked at his hypnotized crew. "DID YOU HEAR ME?!" Crew members left and right suddenly snapped back into action, sending out signals and commands for the rest of the fleet to secure the planet. Just as the bridge was getting back into action, Tony Stark, who looked tired and drained, burst out onto the bridge and almost ran right into just about every person on the bridge until he approached Presul and Acreb.

"Get him out of here, now!" Acreb barked, and several of the soldiers tried to pull him back, but in a split-second move, the soldiers were knocked to their feet, and Tony grabbed Presul by the collar.

"What's going on here?!" he snapped, but Acreb smacked his hand away, scalding Tony's arm. Tony gasped in pain as Acreb growled, "You have no place here, mortal. Get out or I will really have to hurt you!"

"That's enough!" a voice yelled. All heads turned to the top of the bridge again. Standing there was a lizard-like humanoid with thick leather plated armor from head to toe. He had on a pair of dwarven-made gauntlets and a leather hood.

"Admiral Acreb!" he hissed in a snake-like fashion. "Stand down!"

"You?!" Acreb snapped. "YOU think you can order ME to…"

"Vyol…" the lizard-man hissed. "TOOR SHUL!" A massive cale of fire erupted from his mouth, engulfing nearly a quarter of the bridge in fire. Acreb leapt out of the way, as did many of the soldiers and guards, but Presul just extended his hand, and the fires all wooshed into his hand and vanished. Suddenly, there was a flash of pain, and Presul grabbed his hand to see, in shock, his hand smoldering and burning. A sense of powerful magic hung in the air, a magic Presul had not seen in many thousands of years…

"You are a follower of the Voice…" Presul snarled in pain. "Or maybe something more…" Presul's eyes flashed, and the lizard-man screamed in shock. Memories pulsed through Presul's mind – a vicious dragon attack that the lizard had barely escape alive, a deadly civil war between an Empire and the rebel Stormcloacks, a lost love, the defeat of hundreds of zombies, trolls, Fennirs, monsters, witches, dragon ambushes, a monstrous battle in the land of the dead…

Presul's mind snapped back to where it belonged. The lizard-man ahead of him was out of breath and was on one knee, panting and wheezing and gasping for breath.

"You're not just a follower…" Presul gasped. "You're…Dovakhin!" The whole bridge crew force, the soldiers, even the very metal of the bridge seemed to gasp and draw back at the mention of the word Dovakhin – Dragon-Born.

"What are you doing here, Dragon-Born?" Presul demanded. "How did you even get here in the first place? The magical bonds on Skyrim – and all of Tamriel – are too strong to be broken by any force. So, how in the name of the universe could you get here?"

"Alduin…" the lizard-man hissed, still out of breath from the memory transfer. "…Sovengarde…Tsun, possessed…Alduin was overwhelmed…"

"Presul!" Acreb snapped. "This man is too weak from the transfer of both universe to universe and the additional stress of the memory transfer. You should give him some of your stre…"

Suddenly, the very air became cold, as if life, happiness itself was being drained from the air. Ice started collecting on the consoles, and people's breaths were visible. Lights started to flicker, and a sense of dread washed over all on the bridge. Cold, puffy air blew out of Presul's nostrils and mouths, and Presul's eyes darted frantically around.

"Fiat lux!" he whispered, and a ball of light hovered in the air and rose steadily into the air. Just then a shadow flew across the room, and when Presul looked up, a ghoulish creature suddenly appeared out of nowhere. It had no feet, mummified hands, wore a long, tattered black cloak, and a face covered in shadow, with the exception of a circular mouth. A hand grabbed Presul, and he was shoved against the glass. Presul looked past the demon, and saw that many more of these ghouls had captured other bridge members. There was a loud, howling sound, and the victims who were in the grasps of the demons were subjected to an inuman torture. Their faces seemed to stretch and flow into the sucking, leech-like mouths of the demons; the victims screaming the entire time. Bullets and lasers flew but passed right through without affect.

The demon that had Presul opened its mouth, and suddenly Presul felt memories slipping away from him…and then suddenly come back. Presul was suddenly let go of, and he fell to the floor. Acreb was in a state of torture, and Presul could feel Acreb's soul being ripped from his body. Meanwhile, the Dovakhin drew a large sword, completely white with a flower-covered hilt. He tried to swing, but a demon got him first, and then more sucked at his face, and the Dovakhin was on the ground, screaming in pain.

Do it, Presul's conscience said. Take their pain as your own. You have taken the Eternal Vow. You MUST uphold to it. Take their pain! DO IT! Presul yelled and he threw his arms onto him. A pulse of red energy flashed, and suddenly the energy that had been taken from the victims suddenly flew back into them, their souls reattaching. However, the pain was all focused on Presul. The pain and agony of the victims was drawn, as physical substance, into Presul. Presul screamed like a wounded animal and collapsed, mighty winds rushing into him, and unbelievable pain devouring his every nerve of his being. The Dovakhin was able to recover, and he swung his holy weapon. A massive explosion of fire and light rung out, and the demons, suddenly hit with the light, flew around like mad, trying to escape the light. At the same time, out of the corner of Presul's vision, a figure – a white stag – had suddenly appeared. Out of its chest a massive billowing of light erupted in giant, pulsing waves, sending the already panicked demons into an even greater frenzy.

Presul's eyes suddenly turned gold – PURE gold – and he threw his arms to the sides. A giant, conical blast of cyclonic golden light burst from his entire body, drawing in every screaming demon into the cyclone. Their mummified flesh ripped from their bodies, their cloaks were shredded, their skeletons and souls turned to ashes, and all at once, all of the fifty or so demons were sucked into Presul, and then there was a blast of red energy, and Presul collapsed.

What had just passed was only the beginning of the horror. Presul, usually calm and emotionless, was thrashing on the ground in pain, tears spilling from his eyes in horror, and he was screaming – screaming like a wraith burning in hell.

"AAAHH…GA – KILL ME! AAAAAHHHH!" he shrieked as the flesh of his body tore open in huge, blood-splurting sprays. The screams went on, and on, and on, for an eternity…

"Wake up! It's over – WAKE UP!" someone yelled. Presul's eyes snapped open, and his chest flexed hard once before lowering again. Presul found himself in a light blue room, and multiple people were standing over him. One was the lizard-man, his eye bandaged and his arm in a sling. Another group was three teenagers, one with red hair and circular face, another thinner, black messy hair and with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead, and the third one was a lovely young girl, with long brown hair and gorgeous eyes. Presul tilted his head to the other side of the table, and there were two other teens standing over him. One was close to him, a boy, with very short blond hair, handsome face, and bulging muscles. The girl next to him had coal-black hair in a ponytail she wore over her shoulder, had dark brown eyes, simple facial features, and slightly pale skin. Doctor Crusher was at the head of the table, examining Presul's split skull, and at the end of the table were Neo and Morpheous, Hal Jordan, Tony Stark, Ben and Gwen Tennyson, Doctors Five and Ten, Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Riker, and a young boy who Presul did not remotely recognize. He looked like a real-life Japanese anime character, complete with the wild hair, large shoes, and slim appearance. Something that looked like a giant key hung at his waist, and he was covered in dark red armor.

"Presul!" Doctor Crusher said. "Please stay still – you've suffered horrific injuries, and I need you to…"

"Willingly…" Presul gasped softly.

"What?" Tony Stark asked, leaning forward. "What do you mean, willingly?"

"I – took their…pain…" Presul groaned, pushing away Beverly's hand and slowly sitting up, making everyone else take a step or two back as well.

"I – suffered for…" Presul wheezed, looking at his torn body. "For…them…I took – their paiN AHHH!" Presul grabbed his side and bent over. Several tried to come forth, but were blocked by an invisible wall that suddenly pushed them back with an audible woosh.

"Stay back!" Presul warned. "I…have to heal…" Presul concentrated, and suddenly his horrifically dislocated legs audibly snapped back into position, scars and gaping wounds closed, his skull shifted and breaks mended, and within seconds Presul looked good as new.

"Whoa…" the pony-tail wearing girl gasped. "How did you do that? And what do you mean, you 'took their pain?' Are you saying you're Christ?"

"No…" Presul gasped. "I…literally absorbed their pain as my own…as is my vow…"

"Your vow?" the young boy in the red armor asked. "What vow?"

"That I…" Presul groaned, his eyes tightly shut in pain. "…I cannot say…

"Do not worry about me…" Presul stammered as he limped slowly away, but then he stopped and stared at the small boy as if he had seen a ghost, or more precisely, staring at the key at his waist.

"Where did you get that?" Presul hissed. The boy stammered, "Uh, you mean the – the- Keyblade?"

"I SAID WHERE DID YOU GET IT?!" Presul hollered. The very air shook from the force of Presul's voice.

"That blade is not…something you should have…" Presul growled as he rose over the boy. "Hand it over, now."

"Not gonna happen!" the boy angrily shouted, leaping back and drawing the Keyblade. "I'm the Keyblade master! You're not taking it – not while I still breathe!"

Presul, in anger, drew his sword seemingly out of the very air itself, but all of a sudden the girl in the ponytail suddenly had an arrow in a bow – aimed right at him. The group of the three teens had their wands raised, Neo and Stark had pistols raised, the two Doctors reaching for their sonic screwdrivers, Gwen charging her energies and Ben holding a hand over the device on his wrist. Riker and Jean-Luc both threw themselves in between the two sides, trying to end the struggle, but a painful blast of heat made both collapse.

"Hand – over – the Keyblade – NOW," Presul demanded, the sword raising so it was pointed at the boy.

"Why should I?" the boy angrily protested, raising the blade higher. Suddenly, the Keyblade shook, and suddenly it leapt out of his hands and spun with incredible energy. A blast of light shot out from the center of the room, and there was a portal formed, made of dark, slowly spinning energy. There was a loud BANG, and four figures stumbled out. They just looked like normal warriors, with the exception of one, whose outline was monstrous. But when the leader raised his head, Presul's jaw fell open.

"Volrack?"

{That is Chapter Seven, ladies and gentlemen! Now we have the real story kicking in right about now. Please, PLEASE share this story with other Fanfiction users and your friends. Numerous end-of-semester projects are coming up, but I will have more chapters posted as soon as I can. Thanks everyone, and live long and prosper!}