Disclaimer: I don't own any references to The Exorcism of Emily Rose, The Twilight Zone, Legacy of Kain, Battleon, Harry Potter or Castlevania etc.

I also wish to thank Iana Silmir for motivating me to continue my story.

Lastly, from now on, until I reach a chapter that says otherwise, you may imagine Kain as he was in Blood Omen 2, not that I have played the game.

Chapter 12: Time is a terrible thing

The Doppelgangers, as they were called, if that was even the appropriate term for them, embraced each other for old time's sake. It had been several centuries since they last saw their twin selves.

All those centuries ago, when their Covenant was still fresh, they would look at each other and almost see a mirror image in front of them. Now, however, Raziel had been so changed by time and the abyss, that it hardly seemed possible that they once looked so alike.

"I am sorry, Raziel," Tiberius muttered in a most apologetic tone. "I caused all this. I didn't know. I shouldn't have done it."

"No, Tiberius," Raziel assured. "You couldn't have possibly known. It was not entirely your fault. Remember, I was the one who asked for it. I chose to gain the gift and I suffered for it. I never imagined that Kain could be so… invidious."

"No. I don't believe it was jealousy that caused him to act in that manner," responded Tiberius. "I think there was more to it than what we thought it was; than what we all thought it was."

"What are you saying, Tiberius?"

"What I mean is –"

Tiberius never got to finish the sentence. The dream was collapsing in on itself. Both Raziel and Tiberius began to flicker like shadows in the candlelight.

Before Raziel even inquired as to what was happening, Tiberius, being a part of him, already answered his query. "The mental link is unstable," he said. "The dream was never meant to last this long. I will meet you again, soon. I swear."

Raziel was left standing alone, on the edge of oblivion as he watched his "twin" disintegrate into ashes before him. The entire landscape seemed to break apart and be lifted into the heavens before he too disappeared into his own realm.

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Tiberius woke up with a start. His undead heart was pumping furiously. Beads of sweat collected on his forehead. Though he had no need to breathe, he was panting feverishly, a result of old human habits that truly did die hard.

He looked over to the bright digital clock on his side. The Liquid Crystal Display flashed the crimson numerals: 3:00 PM. Why did that accursed hour always have to haunt him? He collected his thoughts and quieted his senses. Very slowly, so as not to wake Severina, he opened the coffin and climbed out. He took a deep breath of air, only to fully awaken him. Nothing seemed to be burning. That was a good sign. Feeling a little reassured, he exhaled and walked out of the coffin-room. It was a good enough time as any to have a little afternoon walk, indoors of course.

He changed his outfit to a comfortable, gray, cotton sweatshirt and matching jogging pants. His usual Goth look would have to wait, for now. And for less hassle, he even strapped his wings together and covered them with an exquisite black leather case, making them look like a sheathed pair of Arnis sticks. He normally did this when he walked amongst humans so that he could pass off as one of them. Just tweak the minds of a few sharp-eyed mortals here and there with his charm and they wouldn't suspect a thing. A pair of rightly sized gloves and custom-made boots covered his cloven hands and feet. He normally didn't put any of this on when he was either at home or at The Underworld nightclub, where mortals were too drunk to care. But now, perhaps he could make an exception. Now that he was properly attired, it was time for a trip to the library, where he had some important business to attend to.

Nothing stirred in the hallways of his entire abode. Apparently, his servants were all still asleep. He always woke up earlier than everyone else. But just to be sure, he mentally scanned his still-as-death mansion, making certain that no unwanted entities lingered about. His eyes saw nothing and his ears heard nothing. That was a very good sign indeed. Perhaps now, he would have some time to concentrate by himself.

For the sake of exercise, he decided to take the long way. Tiberius paced through the endless hallways, turned in a few corners and intersections and entered several hidden doorways. The mansion was a never-ending labyrinth of sorts, with inverted rooms, mirror mazes, mirage rooms and constant dead-ends. But because Tiberius himself created the layout of the mansion, he passed through the warren like a silent spirit passing through walls.

Finally, he reached his destination. Around him were mountains upon mountains of books. Vorador's library looked puny compared to this. The myriad of bookshelves stretching from one wall to the next on several floors was enough to make anyone feel pusillanimous in the largest, not to mention oldest, library in all Sanguine. But Tiberius felt quite at home in his archaic library. The books here were collected over the centuries, dating back to the ancient scrolls of the Shifter's Cult. And indeed those were the very scrolls Tiberius was looking for.

Tiberius flew past the looming bookshelves and headed towards the darker confines of the library. At last, he stopped by a particular bookshelf that seemed as though it hadn't been touched for centuries. He expertly scanned though the numerous titles until he came upon a fake book entitled "Before the Beginning." He pulled it out and put it back again, triggering a switch that slid the bookshelf to the side opening yet another hidden passage.

Taking with him an old torchlight, Tiberius passively entered and treaded the short pathway where no one else, save Severina had ever entered. In fact, Tiberius had hardly even crossed this threshold in the past. He ambled in until he arrived at a large vault. However, the antechamber was only a clever disguise for what lay within. Though the entrance to the vault seemed almost decayed and so worn by time, the vault itself was a jolt back out of the past. It was a state-of-the-art, hermetically sealed safe with reinforced titanium. It was utterly impenetrable that not even dynamite could open it.

Tiberius took off his gloves, punched in the 13-digit code and manually unbolted the lock, an added security feature ensuring that no mortal could ever unlock it. He took a few steps inside and faced a large table full of all sorts of buttons, levers and controls. The lights switched on automatically, temporarily blinding Tiberius since the antechamber was so dark. Above the table of controls, was a glass window that showed the ancient scrolls in considerably mint condition, albeit a bit yellowed by time. They were so old that their glass frames had to be handled with robotic arms and they had to be kept in a pressurized, dehumidified and hermetically sealed atmosphere, otherwise they would crumble into dust.

Tiberius flipped on the main device, which also activated several television screens connected to manually controlled cameras inside the glass chamber. He took control of the robotic arms and adeptly maneuvered them to take out the antique papers, laminated in pure glass. With a flick of a button, the camera zoomed close to the scroll. Silently, he read the contents to himself.

A thousand years ago, perhaps more, at a time few now remember, all was well with the land. Peace reigned over all creatures and the land was abundant with life. Three Great Races governed Nosgoth.

Her primary inhabitants were the Humans. They had long since progressed from their primitive ways, forming basic social structures and proving themselves most versatile of the Races. They were capable of independent thought and could adapt well to most situations.

The secondary inhabitants were the Ancient Vampires, though it is disputed as to which race pre – dated which. Regardless, this Avian race was evidently far more advanced as they dealt with arcane sorceries and were educated in nearly every known art at the time. Their only flaw was that they were all bound, without exception, to their religious belief. Doubters and blasphemers of their One True God, including their own, were met with violent public executions, as an example to all.

The tertiary inhabitants were the Werewolves. Fierce and predatory, this union of Man and Wolf dwelled in territorial packs and dabbled in lunar magic. They were strictly carnivorous by nature but highly disciplined, abstaining from human flesh. However, their primal hunger still led them to slaughter countless livestock and cattle and the Humans to label them as pests. Relations between Humans and their Kind were, at most hostile but never did it escalate to an all – out extermination.

But a single powerful entity dominated a pedestal above all others. A solitary name could propel fear or hope in the hearts of thousands upon thousands of unquestioning souls. His slightest whisper was enough to send entire nations to war or make them grovel on their knees in submission. Born at the dawn of time, he was Ageless. Demon of Illusions, Silencer of Renegades, Reconciler of Nations and Devourer of Worlds – all names for one being; Gamin.

And indeed, for a time, all was well with the land.

Then the Enlightened Ones came fourth and ushered on the First Age of Darkness.

With their arrival came the Werewolves' mysterious disappearance. It was as though they had vanished from the face of all Nosgoth to be replaced by the Enlightened. (In truth, the Werewolves founded a clandestine citadel at the edge of the world, accessible only by a conduit at the heart of the Lake of the Dead and only during the full moon.)

In the Werewolves' absence, a great conflict of will and beliefs occurred. The Enlightened challenged everything the Ancient Vampires stood for, claiming their God to be nothing more than a lie.

In essence, the Enlightened had no true evil intentions. They merely spoke the truth but the Ancient Vampires saw them as malignant blasphemers. Humans saw the futility in this divergence and dared not interfere.

And thus a bloody battle ensued. Humans fled in terror as both heaven and hell unleashed their most formidable warriors. Verdant lands and pastures were tainted in hellish fusion crimson and pitch. The War seemed Unending and a God laughed silently as It watched on.

And so it was both Races foretold the coming of their Champion; A Redeemer and a Destroyer.

The Elders speak of a condemned Redeemer,

An Angel to defend what truly mattered.

But to be saved by this Unholy Savior,

The vice between the Races must be scattered.

The Angel shall come to deliver this land,

From the grasp of a Demonic tormenter

Bearing only a flaming sword in hand

To unite what has been set asunder

He was born of a world not our own

And thus, he belongs to no one

What trick or deception has he not known?

He was created and yet was undone

Cast into an abyss of Hell's liquid fire

His worth was judged and he was reborn

He rose from oblivion to silence his sire

Though reduced to an empty yet undying form

While many may claim him as an unwitting pawn

His will has still defied them all

Into his destiny, he was inexorably drawn

To rise victorious when others would fall

That was all that was written. Those were the only clues he had. But it seemed so lacking. How did the War end? What did Gamin do? What of the Pillars of Nosgoth? Surely, there had to be something concerning that. It was probably continued on another page but that crucial page was no doubt lost forever, perhaps even before Tiberius was created. What now?

Tiberius reread the entire scroll over and over again. Raziel's arrival; that was the only explanation he had, but what else? The scroll only told of Raziel's origins. How was he to end the war? What was Kain's part in all this? So many questions, so little time. He had to solve them before Gamin returned to claim his soul.

A quick glance at the digital clock on the screen told him it was already 5:30 PM. Two hours and Thirty minutes! Once again, he had lost track of time. For him, it was like watching a vast river and keeping track of how much water flowed by. Such a pointless, trivial thing it eventually becomes. When one is a Vampire, time is the least of one's worries.

But perhaps now, he had wasted too much time. He was going nowhere with this futile search for clues and answers and he was willing to give it a break. After putting on his gloves, he switched off the main device and walked out of the vault. After securing it properly, he sauntered off into the kitchen for a light snack.

Several twists and turns later, Tiberius arrived at the kitchen, took out a can of Bloody Booze from the fridge and placed the chilled container to his forehead. In truth, it was quite refreshing. All that time in the library had given him a migraine. Perhaps it was due to the onset of the Thirst. But for reasons unknown it was possibly the result of surviving the Insanity's Touch, the most infamous torture technique of his "immortal enemy". This meant that he wished aspirin could work on him as well as they did on humans.

When Tiberius finally felt the migraine disappear, he bit into the puncture hole of the can and drank all the contents in one gulp. He did not care that it was cold. It was still blood, was it not?

Tiberius looked up at the clock above the kitchen doorway. 5:35 PM, it read. In twenty five minutes he would have to fly off to the Club O2, an oxygen bar, and meet Dudley, The Dude of Doom. As awkward as his name seemed, his predictions were no laughing matter. He could see into the past and the future at will. However, he could only see the misfortunes of one's destiny and nothing more. If ever he foretold anything good, that was always a dire omen and a catch was certain to arise.

5:36 PM.

"By the Ancients!" Tiberius cursed. Why was it that when he was at the library, time seemed to fly by so fast? Now that he was doing nothing, a minute felt like an eternity! Did someone meddle with all the clocks in the mansion with the sole purpose of irritating him? It felt like he was in the Twilight Zone.

Everything around him was so still, he could only hear the clock tick. "Annoying as Hell" appeared to be an understatement. Tiberius focused silently, bringing the palm of his claw to his temple and massaging it. His "meditation" was suddenly interrupted when he sensed that he was not alone. He perceived the scent of another being headed towards the kitchen. If he did not catch the scent, he would have been surprised at the figure that now stood by the door.

The figure was a little taller than Tiberius, around thirty to forty years of age, was of pale complexion, had silvery white hair and could almost pass for a slightly anemic yet well muscled human. The figure was Kain.

"Now, you don't look half bad, Kain," Tiberius said with a chuckle.

"Oh you really are enjoying this, aren't you?" Kain spoke in an annoyed and sarcastic manner.

"Now, now, calm yourself Kain. I think I know something that will make you feel better. Follow me."

The two Vampires strode out of the kitchen and passed through several hallways until they came upon a large, lavishly decorated room. From one wall to the other, the room was full of all sorts of weapons, from elemental blades to energy flails to Drakel Flashers and crissagrems. They had reached the Armory.

Kain was astonished at the vast array of weaponry in this room. But what caught his eye was a lone blade hanging, framed on a wall all to its own, complete with spotlights. Exquisite it was, and completely identical to the original down to every last detail. In his awe, Kain did not say anything but Tiberius replied anyway.

"Yes, Kain, it is the Reaver. I thought perhaps if you had it back in your claws, you would feel more at home in this world," Tiberius said as he strode over to remove the Reaver from its pristine casing. "Would you like to give it a try?"

"But of course, how could I refuse?" Kain answered confidently.

Tiberius handed the Reaver to Kain, hilt first as a sign of respect. Kain took it and began swinging it at the air with utmost precision. It felt the same. It even weighed the same. Yes, completely identical.

"Bear in mind, however," interrupted Tiberius, "that the blade you hold now is not the true Reaver. It is only a replica. I, myself, forged it. I even traveled to distant lands only to have it imbued with the Vampiric energy that the original possessed. It may not be as powerful, but it should be close enough."

Kain said nothing in reply. He was still carefully judging this new Reaver, testing it in this way and that. Enthralled he was at Tiberius' craftsmanship. If only Vorador had taken him in as an apprentice.

Several moments passed and Kain still examined the Reaver. He could feel the energy coursing through and emanating from the blade. When he finally decided that it was indeed flawless, Kain turned to Tiberius and congratulated him in his fine handiwork.

"Well, I must say you've –" Kain began. But when Kain turned around, he faced thirty-six inches of cold, hard steel. Only his lightning quick reflexes allowed him to block in time. Before Kain stood a bloodthirsty monster, fangs bared and wielding a crimson blade. Kain countered by pushing Tiberius away and assuming a defensive stance.

Tiberius momentarily stumbled back but caught his balance in an instant. He looked up at Kain and tried to stare him down. His eyes were even blacker than usual and a luminous verdant glow surrounded his irises. An empty fire burned in his predatory gaze. Saliva dripped from the edge of his mouth as he snarled and growled ferociously, almost like a provoked, rabid wolf. Tiberius was now no more than a deranged animal. He lunged at Kain, blocked his counter attack and shifted immediately to Kain's right and struck at the temple.

Fortunately, Kain blocked this strike as well by turning into mist. He rematerialized a few steps back. It dawned upon him that this was no playful sparring match. Some unknown entity possessed Tiberius now.

Kain assaulted with a flurry of several stab moves to the torso. But knowing this infamous move, Tiberius dodged it in a wink. He retaliated by running Kain through with several X figured blows. Some of these blows, Kain was unfortunate enough to make contact with. But it didn't matter in the least. His wounds healed moments after receiving the negligible damage.

"You've gone too far this time, Gamin! You touch anyone in my family and I will personally see to it that you are banished again!" Tiberius shouted. His claws tightened around the hilt of the sword.

"Tiberius! What are you doing?" Kain was utterly bewildered now. He knew nothing of this 'Gamin'. Neither could he understand what was happening to Tiberius. He tried to reason out with him as he parried another blow.

It was a good thing Kain had the opportunity to drink some blood beforehand and was given some time to rest. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to even stand a chance fighting against this possibly possessed, enraged Beast.

Kain thrust a telekinetic bolt at Tiberius, knocking him onto one of the shelves and causing it to fall on him. The older Vampire cautiously neared the wreckage with the Reaver at the ready. But he was not prepared for what was in store.

Tiberius broke free of the debris without a scratch and without hesitation, aimed a peculiar weapon at Kain and fired. A volley of flame assaulted his sensitive Vampiric skin. Kain was engulfed in flame and smoldered like a torch light. Fire always intensified a Vampire's pain a hundredfold. Water was no boon in this either. Fortunately, Kain possessed some form of pyrokinesis and willed the fire to extinguish itself.

However, this did not stop Tiberius from assailing Kain with the flamethrower like a pyromaniac. For a few moments, they chased around the Armory; Kain dodging the barrage of flames and Tiberius using Kain as target practice. Before long, several shelves caught fire.

One particular shelf happened to contain several different colored packages, each with a long fuse attached to it. As the flames began to fill the room, the fuses caught a few stray sparks and were visibly shortening within seconds. Fortunately, Kain happened to notice the shelf be set ablaze.

"Tiberius!" he called out.

Tiberius paid him no heed and resumed his arsonist rampage.

"Tiberius!" he called out again, dodging another barrage of flame.

The old Tiberius Kain knew of was no longer present in the room. It was his strength, his power, his body but not his mind. Kain now realized how positively demonic Tiberius now looked, surrounded by fire yet fueled it. He had the gift of wings which provided an advantage over Kain.

"TIBERIUS!!!" he shouted one last time before the earth-shattering boom.

Kain pressed himself onto the ground and not a moment too soon. He felt a searing wave of energy brush against his back. He feared the explosion may have even singed his hair.

The instant the explosion relented, Kain looked up at the debris left in its wake. The entire room was wrecked. Several shelves were still being consumed by the smoldering flames. The once whitewashed walls were now blackened with ash. The elegant drapes that covered the windows were reduced to a pile of filthy rags. The weapons strewn about the Armory were horribly tarnished. But in the midst of all the rubble, a lone figure stood shielded by his wings. He was coated from head to toe in a thin layer of soot and ash but otherwise he was unscathed. The Demonic glint had not left his eyes.

Tiberius took a couple of steps toward Kain before doubling over and clutching his side. It seemed to Kain as though the younger Vampire was throwing up blood. Kain neared him cautiously but kept the Reaver at the ready as a precaution. Upon further inspection, Kain realized that Tiberius had just vomited out a tiny salamander with eyes of pitch that caught Kain's gaze. It made contact for a split second before scurrying into one of the flames. Kain thought he saw a figure in the blaze but ignored it as simply a trick of the light.

Upon the lizard's ejection from the Vampire's esophagus, Tiberius collapsed onto the tiled floor. Kain rolled him over onto his back and attempted to stir him from his spell but the younger Vampire was out cold.

Kain's first thought was to seek help from the other members of the household but before he even left the room, they were already there, standing aghast at the wreckage and eying him as the culprit. Undoubtedly, a blast of that magnitude could not have gone unheard.

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When Tiberius awoke, he saw an angel smiling down upon him, caring for him, tending to his injuries, watching over him as a guardian angel would. Had he died and gone to Heaven? And why to Heaven of all places? Surely for all his past transgressions, he was only worthy enough for the nightmarish torment of the Satan's domain. As his mind cleared, he realized he was far from having crossed over. It was simply Severina gently dabbing a wet cloth on his forehead.

He was lying in a reclined Regency Chaise Lounge, resting his dazed head on a feather pillow. All the household servants stood silently around him, ready to cater to his every whim. By the wall, he noticed Kain having his wounds tended to by another servant. Kain's burn marks had disappeared without a trace. No doubt the work of a few drops of the Bloody Youth Potion. But what truly caught his attention was Kain's once silvery mane. A good claw's width had been singed off. The ends were now blackened and dry. Unfortunately, washing it could do no good.

Kain perceived Tiberius' gaze and returned the awkward stare. The expression on Kain's face was a portrait of distrust and hatred. Who could blame him? After everything he had been through, his past exploits in Nosgoth, his encounter with the Shadow Wolf, two severe beatings from a Vampire whom he trusted and to top it all off, his defining asset of physical appearance had been marred and would only be restored who knows when. Kain certainly wasn't having his day.

Tiberius' attention now switched back to Severina.

"Candy! You're awake!" Severina uttered softly. "We were so worried when we heard the explosion. We came as fast as we could."

"Ugh… Sevvie…" Tiberius weakly spoke as he brought his claw to his head. His headache had now reached gargantuan proportions, coupled with the sensation of a slightly upset stomach. "Gamin! He has returned!" Tiberius exclaimed, suddenly sitting up and making him feel even worse.

"Shush. Rest now, my love." Severina reassured her husband. She pushed him down calmly. "We'll deal with him when the time comes but for now you need to take it easy. Whatever happened in the Armory has drained you of your energy. You can't hide it from me. I know."

Tiberius refused to accept his present circumstance and attempted to sit up once more, to the resisting remarks of his wife.

"No, my love," she whispered. "You've been unconscious for over an hour and I will not allow you to spend the rest of your remaining Pranic energy worrying about some figment of your imagination."

"OVER AN HOUR??!!" Tiberius exclaimed. "What time is it?" A glance at the wall clock told him it was 7:45 PM. He was supposed to meet Dudley nearly two hours ago. "Sevvie, please, you must understand" he implored. "As much as I'd like to deny it, I need help. I seriously need help. I nearly killed TJ today and I could have killed Kain as well, and I don't know why, or how to stop myself. And the only person I know who can help me is Dudley, so please, I must get to him. I'll be fine. I promise. You have to trust me."

Severina knew that look in his eye. It was desperation. He knew what had to be done and she knew it as well. She helped him up and whispered in his ear, "Be careful, Candy."

"I will," he responded.

Tiberius dashed off without so much as noticing that he was still wearing his soot-covered jogging outfit, that his hair was a mess, that he had left behind the leather case for his wings and that in short he was nowhere in the situation to meet up with Dudley the Dude of Doom.

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Meanwhile, in another part of Sanguine, a figure clad in purple robes peered into his crystal ball and watched the winged Vampire race towards Club O2.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he muttered. "Time is a terrible thing"

A/N: Just in case you didn't know, 3 PM is the Holy hour. Just as 3 AM is the witching hour.

Shortie: Swimming Kain (based on a game glitch I call the "Swimming Kain")

Kain: What in the hell took you so long, Kild? And why after all this time of letting me languish in the aging files of your dilapidated computer did you bring me up to cause me more torment?

Kild: Uh… I was bored?

Kain: ….

Kild: OK, OK, I'll make it up to you, even Raziel. Here are three tickets to Splash Island. Go to the beach or something and enjoy yourselves.

Raziel and Widdle Waziel: ROAD TRIP!!!

(At Splash Island, on top of a giant slide)

Raziel: You go first (pushes Kain)

Kain: WAIT A SEC! I CAN'T SWIM!! I'M ALLERGIC TO WATER!!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!!