Sin's weeklong meditation was almost up, and he would soon be returning to Valor and to his mortal body. He reluctantly would do this, for he had grown used to meditigo and wished to stay there forever.
Over the course of his stay here, he had met dozens of interesting and bizarre spirits, people who had also sought meditation. Sadly he had not run into Almo a second time, so he would strive to look for his spirit friend when he returned to his body.
After he unearthed his father's whereabouts.
To return to one's body was simpler than the ritual that allowed someone to go to meditigo. You merely thought it, and it happened. Much simpler.
Taking in the spirit world one last time, Sin began to head home. Until a profound voice echoed from nowhere. "Sin."
A glowing figure descended from the clouds, slowing lowering itself to Sin's position. He shielded his eyes and tried vigorously to make out the mysterious figure.
Again the shining figure called out his name, beckoning him. Sin, with a start, realized just who it was: It was his god, Mandarin!
Sin threw his corporeal form to the ground, desperately trying to make himself smaller. He heard the footsteps of Mandarin drawing closer. What had he done to draw the attention of his lord?
"Rise, my son," Mandarin said.
Sin drew himself up, but kept his eyes respectively lowered. "Yes, my lord."
"Do not fear me, Sin," he started. "I am not here to punish you, but to ask you a favor."
Sin gasped. "A favor? I am not worthy!" He fell to his knees at his master's feet.
Mandarin burst out into a laugh that sounded like a thousand choirs harmonizing. He placed a hand on Sin's shoulder and bade he rise. "You are worthy, Sin. For a god to visit you, you must realize this."
Tears welled up in Sin's eyes. "You do me great honor, my lord."
His god wiped the tears from Sin's eyes. "Cry not, my son, because I have a tremendous task set for you."
"A task?"
"Your world has survived many dangers, but there is a storm coming that threatens to eradicate this realm. I have seen that you've met the resident time wizard. And I have also seen that he's tasked you with preventing the fox boy from contacting the boy called Solo. But know this, my son, do not do this."
"Why not?" Sin was deeply confused. He had been suspicious of Artus, but what should he do now?
"Artus does want to fix the time rip, but he wishes to rewrite time with him as its master. And if the fox does not contact Solo, all you know will be destroyed."
"What would you have me do, then?" Sin asked.
"I will send you to where Solo's friend Dream is fighting. He will not win without you, though the fight will not be written as a win. When you show up, Artus will follow and save his investment.
"As you wish, my lord," Sin said with a proud smile.
"If you do this, I will reward you with a lofty position among earthlings." Mandarin kissed Sin on the forehead, then said, "I wish you great success, my son." Finished, Mandarin ascended back into the clouds, leaving Sin glowing with pride that his god had personally visited him.
Sin had a new mission in life. Though he would need to place aside his search for his father, he did not feel any regret. He was personally assisting his lord!
A booming sound behind him made him spin around. A purple portal had came into existence just behind him. Mandarin must have opened it for him, so that it would take him to his destination. He glanced down and saw that he held a steel scimitar in his clenched hand.
He whispered a quick prayer and leapt into the portal.
Sweat glistened on Dream's face as he sprinted for the Varrock Medic Center where he knew he could find help. Seeing Solo lying there had frightened Dream more than he would like to admit.
The pavement flew under him as he raced on. Suddenly, the ground was coming up to meet his face. Dream's face slammed into the concrete, rattling his skull painfully. "Dang it!" he muttered crossly. His hand automatically went to his forehead where he felt something wet and warm.
"I'm bleeding?" he gasped.
A guttural voice above him chuckled warmly. "You'll be doing more of that soon, brat." A foot slammed into Dream's ribs. He scrunched into a ball, gasping for breath. Shortly after, another kick came, sending Dream crawling away for safety.
The attacker grabbed a fistful of Dream's hair and yanked him to his feet, a sob escaping from Dream. Forcing the boy's chin up, the attacker's next words were spat out, "I want you to know the face of your killer when you die, begging for mercy!"
Dream took in the attacker. He had shiny black hair, wore a tight T-shirt, and rubber pants which were black, and knee-high black boots. Attached to his hip was a chain and at the end was a nasty looking rusty hook.
Dream choked back a cry when the tall, thin, and muscular man delivered a blow to his stomach. "W-who are you?" Dream stammered. "What do you want from me?"
Sneering, the man answered. "You can call me Boneripper, because that's what I'm going to be doing to you after I crack your skull open! And I'm here to gauge you for some delicate information, as in where your buddy Solo is."
Tears flowing down his cheeks, Dream stared defiantly back at Boneripper. "I'd never betray his trust like that, you pig!"
Boneripper, smiling evilly, reared back and slammed his head into Dream's. The force sent him reeling backwards, trying to regain some balance. Boneripper followed this up with several well placed jabs to Dream's torso and face.
Dream took this beating for a full minute before collapsing, coughing up blood. He slowly reached for the sword he brought with him, only for it to be wrenched from his grasp, then flung far away.
Shaking his head in mock wonder, Boneripper said, "Why even bother, toad? It's not like you'll defeat me, the greatest assassin in the Black Arm gang!"
A boy stepped out from the shadow of a nearby building. He held a steel scimitar in his right hand and looked competent enough to handle it. He jerked his head about as if looking for someone or something. His eyes were suddenly drawn to Dream's plight and he rushed in.
Boneripper lashed out backwards with his foot, catching the new boy in the pelvis. He moaned in pain and fell to his knees. Doing a complete spin, the assassin roundhouse kicked the boy sharply in the head. "I don't know who you are kid, but you just signed your death warrant."
The hit man grabbed the boy by the scruff of his collar and threw him beside Dream. He hit the ground with a thump, causing him to cry out in pain as he had sprained his ankle.
Dream leaned over and whispered, "Thanks for coming to help me, stranger, even if it wasn't successful." Dream's lip stretched into a small smile. "My name is Dream Dehcay."
The boy smiled back and responded, "I'm Sin."
Boneripper stomped hard on Dream's stomach; he cried out. "No talking, little brats. You're going to need all the breath you have when begging me to kill you quickly."
Dream lay still and unmoving as his foe taunted him over and over. He could not cave or Boneripper would realize he had no fun left and would kill him. The boy did not know why the stranger called Sin had come to his aid, and he did not care.
Boneripper's smile curved up into a snarl. "What's wrong, no more sniveling from the babies?"
Dream noticed Sin fidget, but when he glanced over, Sin had launched to his feet. He swung his sword like a skilled warrior, making a pass at Boneripper's vulnerable areas. The large man dodged to the left, narrowly avoiding the sword. Sin struck again, and Boneripper ducked out of the way.
Sin became agitated, if only slightly. He knew this went against everything he stood for. He wasn't one to rush into something this rash, but here he was. He needed to strike without anger; his god commanded him to do so.
He dashed forward, sure that Boneripper had finally left an opening, but the assassin was faking. He grabbed the boy by his hair and slammed him face first into the nearest wall.
"Do that again, boy, and I will cave your skull in!" Boneripper growled, loud enough for a walking pedestrian to hear and scurry away.
"You do not scare me, Boneripper," said Sin calmly. "My god will protect me."
Outraged, Boneripper slammed the boy's head one last time into the brick wall and tossed him aside as if he were a rag doll. His hands went for his chain, Sin's religious comments obviously bothering him. Boneripper swung the chain a few times to demonstrate his no doubt excellence ability and arched it at Dream.
Dream closed his eyes in terror, waiting nervously to feel the rusty hook pierce his soft skin and entice blood-it never came. Opening his eyes, he thought he could see Boneripper just standing there.
Sin, pushing himself to a sitting position, gazed at the still form of their would-be assassin.
Wiping a bead of sweat that had formed on his forehead, Dream asked, "Sin, what's going on?"
"You needn't be confused my dear boy, I shan't harm you." A shadowy figure, his form eclipsed by the morning sun, stood atop a building adjacent to the street. Having caught their attention, he leapt from his perch, landing on his feet.
Dream took in the newcomer's appearance. The man had neck length black hair with virgin white tips. Two things stuck out about him: he had dull, charcoal blue eyes and his outfit screamed Al Kharid make. His shirt was beige with red, long sleeves. The pants he wore were the typical baggy white the Al Kharids were accustomed to, except his had black trimmings. The overkill was the red cape flapping along with the wind tied off at his neck.
"Artus!" Sin whispered below his breath, though loud enough for Dream to hear.
"Why did you save us?" Dream asked warily, eyeing the strange giant wheels attached to the man's hips. "And if I may, what are those?"
The man smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "These are my weapons. The one on my left is called Piroe and the right one is Ayro. They're specifically attuned to my magic and can return when I send out the thought. I can also use them for melee; see the center? Don't they look like two Z's intertwined? Well, at the end of each leg is a tiny blade that I can bring out with the push of a certain button."
Dream was unimpressed with the obvious attempt at bragging. Dream steered the conversation back to the man's motives. "Humph, but why did you save us, uh?"
The man turned to face Dream, his face no longer holding a warm smile. "Artus Sorrai is the name. I really didn't mean to save you; I could care less about your life. I was merely executing an experiment of sorts for the benefit of our mutual friend there." Pointing at Sin, Artus spun to leave, whipping his cape behind him with an air of superiority. "I will take my leave, but I have some advice for you. If you do not want to be killed by this here ruffian, then I suggest you take your leave as well."
Artus snapped his fingers and vanished from sight. Seeing that the spell would be broken soon, Dream retrieved his sword, and both him and Sin took off.
Panting from their running excursion, Dream and Sin rested under the awning of a store. Dream wiped sweat from his face with the back of his hand, rubbing it on his pants. For it to be so cold outside, they sure could build up a sweat.
"What did you think of that Artus Sorrai, Sin?" Dream slowly said, gasping for breath at every other word. "He seemed strange, a bit off if you get my meaning."
Sin had obviously regained his composure faster and was acting like he hadn't almost been killed. "He is a dangerous man, Dream. Please stay away from him."
Dream considered that. He wondered if Artus and Sin had some connection with Kuro Ryu. But he realized he was just being paranoid.
He cleared his throat and told Sin that he was needed elsewhere, but if he needed anything to just call on him at the Varrock Hotel. Sin nodded and mumbled something about meditation or kaogukai.
Clearly believing something bad had happened to Solo, Dream forgot about getting a doctor or mage and ran back to the hotel.
Sin waited until Dream had completely turned the corner. When he was certain Dream was far enough away, he shuttered and slumped to the ground. In all his days training with the monks, he had never faced quite an opponent like this Boneripper.
He had been so agile, rivaling that of the most agile feline. Boneripper's weapon of choice, his chain-and-hook, was one of the most deadliest weapons Sin had ever seen.
Again he offered up a prayer to Mandarin, for giving him the strength and skill to persevere. As he continued his minute-long prayer of thanks, his thoughts eventually drifted back to the time wizard.
Sorrai had approached him with the bold-faced lie of wanting to save the timeline. If it hadn't been for Mandarin, he would have helped the man. Luckily his god had revealed the truth to him.
Dusting himself off, Sin stood up and walked down the street, blending in with the common folk. It felt almost peaceful and serene to become one with the crowd, to be but one person in a crowd of many.
To have no identity.