Chrono Trigger Omega
Episode Zero Zero One - "Nightrunner"
Prologue - "Midnight"
He darts in darkness.
The world around him is pitch black. No moon. No skyline. Nothing but a void. Sweet irony if you knew the young man's alias.
Despite not being able to see anything before his frantic pace, the man doesn't lose stride for a second, deathly afraid what could be gaining upon his tail.
One could easily hear what was in pursuit of him, and the stampede of many trampling shoes behind him would be enough to send the most cool headed into a panic. The expected reaction to a mob (or the sound of one) on your heels was one the young man didn't have to deliberate on for too long.
He ran like hell. And from the sound of things, he might be running from that as well.
Light slowly started to fill the scenery around him, and his eyes adjusted painfully to take it all in. The dimly lit world he raced across was desolate. Dead trees and shrubbery. Cracked dried ground. Jagged mountains draped across the landscape. Not an ounce of color to be found anywhere, as if the world was drenched in monotone.
This hellhole looked familiar to him, but he had no time to wax upon that as he concentrated on running for his life. He dared not look behind him, but his ears were not deceived, a shadowy mass of people numbering over one-hundred strong was almost on top of him. Only a few meters between them.
Before his feet could fail him, the honor went to terra-firma as the target of the mob's rage slid to a stop - short of careening over an inconvenient cliff. He immediately whipped around to find himself barred from any avenue of escape, the crowd had quickly seen to that.
Gazing mournfully into the shadowy mass of pursuers with nothing behind him but inevitable death, the man stood haggard. His breath still spent from the chase but returning to a less-terrified rhythm as he tried to find the courage to speak. Regardless of the lack of color, it was apparent that the young man was of African-descent and was dressed in an uncommon uniform made of mostly onyx fibers, but highlighted with white trimming. Underneath the threads, one would find a physical frame in prime-condition, standing at an even 6 feet and sporting a mop of braids that framed his sweat-beaded face and reached past his shoulders. The weak light source in the distance still managed to reflect in his glasses, hiding the fear that manifested in his eyes and heart.
"Nowhere left to run, is there, 'Nightrunner'?" spoke a smarmy voice from the head of the crowd. Stepping from the unholy shadows was a tall and equally young man with shock-white long hair and wearing a uniform similar to his captured prey. He seemed to be of Native American heritage, but with the poor light that would be more of a guess than an observation.
A strange thing happened to "Nightrunner", the young Nubian man that stood before them, once he laid eyes on the tall mob leader. A nervous smile formed on his lips as he finally found the courage to speak.
"Wintersnake?" Nightrunner whispered nervously.
"You remember that I gave you that name, right, Nightrunner?" Wintersnake said with harshness in his voice, "Not that I ever thought that you'd really run away from what you need to face, like a coward. I truly misjudged you."
"Wait, please," Nightrunner began to plead in his defense, "I was ready to die with you-"
"You murdered us!" Wintersnake countered, enraged, "You sided with 'her' and with that damn beast, sacrificing us all!"
"That's not true!"
"Then why did you live..." another voice, more calming than Wintersnake's sounded from the crowd. It belonged to an alluring young female who emerged from them. Much like Nightrunner, she was of Nubian descent, only her skin-tone was a bit lighter. She was about the only one not uniformed, donning a simple dress that didn't fail to show off her sensual, yet fair body. Her hair was long and had bounce, but thanks to the drowning out of color, you could only guess if she was a brunette or a redhead, "when we all died?"
The very sight of her made Nightrunner fall to his knees, his body shivering in shock and ecstasy of seeing her once again, despite the dilemma he found himself in.
"Oh...Xia..." Nightrunner could hold back the tears no longer, and did they ever flow. Tears of happiness. Tears of regret. Tears of unforgivable sorrow, "I failed you...I failed you all..." between his hands, the earth ground up in his balling fists as his body racked with grief. Suddenly he felt warmth to his cheek. It was Xia's hand, looking up to find her kneeling with him and a warm smile on her face.
"You can't run forever, Max. Retribution comes to everyone. Until you face it, we will haunt you forever."
"Then haunt me!" his hand held hers against his cheek, "I deserve all the torture your restless souls can bestow. I'd kill myself except I...can't...d-"
"Suicide won't set things right either," Xia spoke as softly as Nightrunner remembered, "that's only running away too."
"Then what am I to do?" he was on the verge of emotional collapse, "Tell me so I can own up to all of you..."
"You have to find that answer yourself..." Xia's voice started to echo into nothingness as she and the mob behind her faded away into nothingness. Nightrunner was in shock for a moment until he felt what was the warmth on his cheek. His hand was coated in blood - presumably Xia's, as he stared at it in horror. Despite being in a colorless world, it dripped from him all it's crimson glory.
An ear-piercing shriek demolished what was left of his composure, and his eyes quickly returned to what was ahead of him. Instead of a crowd of ghosts, he found the silhouette of a behemoth of a monster, one the size of half a stadium before him as he limply stood to his feet. His blood stained hand balled into a fist of fury as his expression on his face changed to match that. The fist suddenly engulfed itself in blue flames that raged uncontrollably as his eyes narrowed at the roaring, shadowed beast. The sound of it's unearthly cry had haunted him for almost as long as he could remember. In his heart, he desperately searched for the courage to take on the predator at his front, starting to charge it with fists ablaze in blue fire. Nightrunner let out a furious cry of his own as he advanced.
The mouth of the beast slowly drew open as the lone man raced towards it, and within it, a light had emanated, growing ever brighter by the second. Seconds before he was upon the monster a ray of white-hot death washed upon Nightrunner's body, sweeping him up into oblivion.
A heartbeat before the end came, he could feel arms wrap around his waist from behind, almost lovingly. A whisper penetrated his ear.
"Come for me, Nightrunner. I'll be waiting..."
A chill wind blew across the room from the open balcony doors. When he realized where he was, Nightrunner found himself sitting up in his bed, covered in a cold sweat.
His racing heart slowed down to a regular pace as his breathing followed suit. Looking down, he noticed his tense grip on the blanket draped over his legs and eventually relaxed his hands. Unlike the nightmare he emerged from, Nightrunner was now dressed in no more than normal gray boxers, as his usual sleep attire were, while on his face he wore a look of distress. It faded to one of relief while exhaling a stressful sigh.
"Again...that nightmare again...wha-?" finally at a calm, a stark realization it him as his focus moved to the balcony doors straight ahead of him, "I thought I closed those..."
Before he was able to even step out of bed, his eyes spied a shooting star, beyond the balcony and falling into the mountain range in the far distance. The floor was as cold as he expected thanks to the chilliness of the outdoors blowing into his bedroom, walking tiredly to his balcony to do the obvious. It still bothered him that the doors were even open, but he was too tired to dwell on it at the moment. It was just about midnight and he had only begun to get some shuteye.
Halfway from the bed to the terrace, Nightrunner suddenly stopped cold in his tracks. Three silhouettes materialized on the balcony covered by shadows cast by the full moons behind them. The moons matched the number of the strangers that stood before him.
The form of each of the mysterious visitors seemed to be identically perfect - obviously young, dimensions that were blatantly feminine, and each wearing jumpsuits of an ornate design. He couldn't make out much of their details with the exterior light working against his vision, plus his glasses were still over by the bed. And at such an inconvenient time too. A strong wind gusted into them all, leaving their long hair to sway in the air along with Nightrunner's thin braids.
"Are you Nightrunner?" one of the women asked in an authoritative tone. Nightrunner might have found himself in the midst of three potentially beautiful women (moonlight shadows notwithstanding), but he was still annoyed that these ladies were being as bold as they were.
"And who the hell are you?" he smirked, "How do you even know of me, let alone find me?"
"We have our methods," Nightrunner could swear another one of the women spoke this time, yet it sounded like the same voice.
"Do they include breaking into a man's home in the middle of the night?" he asked in jest, yet with an air of spite, "That kind of rude behavior is more fitting for criminals, not nice ladies such as yourselves."
"He is just as his description," the third finally spoke, again with an identical voice, "A brash recluse with weak social graces-"
"Guess word gets around," he smiled genuinely, "the only question is 'who's talking about me?' There's no one left alive or conscious that knows who I really am or how to reach me. Sorry you women came all this way, but I'm not up for entertaining guests right now.
"Or ever."
"We must insist," the first to speak of the trio, the woman at the center, stated, "We require your services to help us with a problem."
"There's only one thing I could help you ladies with right now..." a sly expression could be found on Nightrunner's face as he motioned behind him, "and unless it involves that bed, this conversation won't be going much further."
"And a pervert too," the third one who had her description interrupted, continued on queue, "I'm not surprised."
"A man can dream, can't he? And on that note, that's what I plan on doing once I escort you three out of my house."
"Are you as rude to other women as you've been to us, 'Mr. Ramnarine'?" asked the second woman. The mention of his last name startled him for a second.
"Only to presumptuous strangers who think they can get away with pleasantries when they've already perpetrated on protocol," Nightrunner had become deathly serious, on the realization that these women might know more about him than he was comfortable with, "the debate is over. Please leave."
"Whether it be by consent or by force, Maximillian, you will assist us," the first one again stated their demand.
"I'm not one for domestic violence but with those options, I'll have to vie for the latter, m'lady," a villain's smile beamed across Nightrunner's lips, "I hope you're prepared."
"Save your concerns for yourself," the center countered, and before Nightrunner could react, the entire room flooded with light from where the trio was standing. Squinting his eyes thanks to the blinding illumination, he positioned himself in a defensive pose as something suddenly washed over him. The sensation was absolutely soothing, but the young man found himself disturbed by what he could make out before him. The shadowed forms of the women appeared to be merging into one another leaving a much Amazonian silhouette in its stead.
He realized quickly what the sensation was just as the light was starting to fade - clothes materializing over his frame. Not just any apparel, but the same black uniform he had worn in his dream, complete with slick onyx boots and charcoal gray gauntlets to match. Once the surrounding light faded to reveal the courtyard in front of a sprawling estate, he also noticed that his vision was glasses-enhanced.
The courtyard was something that was a source of mixed feelings to Nightrunner. Roses of all colors and types decorated the landscape around them as he stood on a wide walkway, roughly ten meters from the, now one, woman at his front. Between them flowed an elegantly designed fountain with several pools of water springing forth from it.
His eyes were trained on the amazon of a woman across the walkway. Standing a half a foot taller than the young man, her aqua-blue skin radiated in the light of the moons above. The armor she wore was of an unconventional, or alien, design but was titillating, revealing enough of her body to almost make the suit impractical. Maybe it was psychological, making the opponent think there were vulnerable spots on her only to find that her own abilities would make those spots impenitratible. The answer could have been even simpler; distracting males of a more perverted mindset and causing them lose focus during a battle. To Nightrunner, these could all be factors, but he knew couldn't be that easily swayed just by scantily clad opposition.
The kicker to this unearthly looking female wasn't her blue epidermis or even her long and oddly violet locks, however. Observing her face, one would find not one or two eyes, but three - much like a triclops of legend with the extra one centered above the two normal eyes, nested in her forehead. All three were the clearest of blue eyes he had ever witnessed, and at the moment Nightrunner couldn't read what was behind them.
"Well...we're outside. Mission accomplished," he congratulated her, sarcastically and starting to turn away towards the estate, "now I'm going to bed. Next time, figure out a better approach when you're looking for a favor."
"This isn't over until you resign your obstinence or one of us is dead," she finally spoke stopping Nightrunner's casual retreat. Her voice was the same as when the women were separate, but this time it carried an eerie echo as if all three women were speaking at once, "do you submit?"
Those words rushed at Nightrunner like the coldest breeze that could tingle your spine to numbness. Like a blinding right cross, he received a flashback of someone he had fought hard to forget all these years that he spent in seclusion. To hear them spoken by someone not nearly as dangerous had definitely put fire in his ire.
"No, bitch..." he growled through gritted teeth, "...I don't."
"Then..." as she spoke, something materialized in her hands. A fantastic and lavishly crafted katana sword, complete with a mystifying blade forged of transparent, prismatic metal. Nightrunner's eyes narrowed as he recognized it immediately, "...let us begin."
"First you break into my place, and now you take the Rainbow Katana from my-" the sensation of something materializing underneath his clothes and behind his back paused him in mid-statement. What appeared behind his waist was an all-too-familiar item to him, reaching his hand behind him to confirm its existence. For the moment, Nightrunner decided to keep it concealed, returning his eyes forward, "how consider- hey!"
Using the distraction to her advantage, she rushed him holding the sword like an avenging samurai. Her form was perfect, but Ramnarine was no fool. With inhuman speed he avoided her first swipe with precision. While throwing himself aside, he unveiled the item, a silver rod about six inches in length and an inch in diameter thickness.
"Your mastery of time is admirable," she remarked sidling while placing her sword in front of her again. Nightunner sidled as well, now curiously holding the rod in his left hand as if the small device would serve him some divine purpose, "just like we were told."
"Someone has loose lips," Nightrunner remarked, annoyed, but before he could continue she charged again. All the young Nubian had was a fraction of time to defend otherwise he would find himself headless.
Even that epoch in time was enough for him, however. Around his left hand, energy resembling ghostly blue flames exploded, changing the rod from six inches to one stretching five feet. He had it in position to block he sword just in time, but the strength that the triclops brought with it was unexpected. This woman was strong, like three women put together. Nightrunner got the joke of his predicament while he fought hard to stay the woman's blade and shifted himself out of harm's way.
The triclops tried several other strategic slices upon Nightrunner, but he read each calmly and deflected them appropriately, using her own power to push him away from immediate death everytime.
"Those flames from your hand..." she observed, momentarily calling off her assault to regroup her options, "so it is tr-"
"Kindly shut the fuck up," Nightrunner had just about enough of the enigmatic advisories the woman was given about him before she arrived at his balcony doorstep. He knew if he asked who sent her that she'd wouldn't cough up the info. Besides, she hadn't even introduced her separate alter egos yet - what would make him think that she would be forthcoming with anything else?
She rebounded with a sudden upswing trying to slash him across the chest, or at least knock the weapon out of his hands. She succeeded as the rod went flying upward. However, her adversary was no longer in her sight, but what couldn't be seen definitely could be felt. Nightrunner delivered a flurry of fire charged blows all over her upper torso, resonating pain throughout her body, and as her body buckled forward, still holding the sword above her, her chin was met by the heel of his right foot connecting with a damaging upright kick. As she toppled backward, his metal staff dropped right back into his left hand.
"Are we finished here?" Nightrunner asked calmly, facing away from the fallen woman, now bleeding oily black blood from her lips. She sat up and regained her grip on the Rainbow Katana, using it as a crutch to regain her footing.
"You're different now," she smiled despite the pain of his assault, "You're worth fighting..."
Circling around Nightrunner's feet rose a raging, yet contained inferno of blue flame. Standing at its apex, he turned his head enough to see her in the corner of his right eye. She could see the murderous intent in it, and her devious smile only broadened.
"In some circles of combat, when you cause someone to bleed that requires that your adversary kill you - a result I understand completely. But if you want to continue this nonsense, ladies, know that I will end you."
"I would expect no less, Maximillian Ramnarine," she placed herself in a defensive stance, expecting him to play the next move. She was right as rain.
Like a candle with its flame snuffed out, the barrier of flame vanished with nothing but smoke remaining. Nightrunner had disappeared as well. If it wasn't for her third eye, she might have not glimpsed her attacker materialize above her spinning his staff with killer velocity. On the descent, he brought it down upon her like Thor's hammer, only to catch the sturdy prowess of the Rainbow.
The cobblestone of the walkway cracked when Nightrunner brought the staff down vertically with the ground, using it as a brace while throwing his feet into the woman's stomach. The kicks caused her to slide backwards, but as she regained her footing she could see him vertically revolving the staff around him while casually advancing. The rotations of the rod started a phenomenon that rippled the air as the revolutions around him increased in speed. Within an instant, the staff ignited in neon-blue flames, in which he took the weapon in both hands and swung an arc of fire in her direction. Many were to follow as his onslaught began.
Spiritual flames were a hard thing to defend against, even if you are using a spectacular weapon like the Rainbow, the triclops discovered. She swatted as many projectiles of blue fire out of the air that she could but inevitably her defenses ran out. The remaining splashed upon her and raged over her body as Nightrunner made his move. Racing behind the last airborne arcs, he used the staff to break the sword from her weakened grasp and commenced to return his weapon to it's natural state. While one hand put it away, he brought around another to deliver a damaging punch to her chest. The flames that ravaged her snuffed out instantly once he connected the hit, but her will kept her standing, regaining her senses faster than he predicted.
Nightrunner barely ducked the sharp swing of her right fist, while his hands pushed down a potentially threatening knee thrust to his descending jaw. Instead of throwing himself away from her, he pressed onward, throwing an uppercut that she deflected with her left arm and open palm. Other attempts at punching her failed as she blocked and deflected his barrage of attacks, her reaction speed quickly adjusting to his.
The opening came. Nightrunner threw in a kick to her midsection and she caught it at the heel. Threatening to break his ankle by twisting it suddenly, he lifted his body off of the ground swinging his other leg at her head as retribution. Tough luck on his part when she caught the other one with efficiency. She finally had him.
Using her resounding strength, the triclops made her play to slam him face first into the stones of the walkway. Predicting that move, Nightrunner swung and curled his body underneath her spread legs, using the momentum to throw himself free and drawing his staff on the upswing. Just as she tried to turn around, the weapon was already at her back, and a distressed look displayed on her face. Banging his enflamed right fist into his end of the staff, the charge of the energy traveled through it and exploded into her back. The impact violently hurled her body 15 meters as she tumbled by the fountain. Nightrunner wasted no time as he raced after her, charging up his rod with flames for one final strike. Landing on her stomach, her body quivered as she made a discovery on the spot she landed. In the meanwhile, her charging opponent jumped into the air, aiming the spiritually engulfed rod in a position to kill on his landing.
There was a impaling.
Nightrunner looked down to find most of the inches of the Rainbow Katana run through his still beating heart. His exploding attack from before couldn't have had a more unfortunate outcome as he realized he had thrown her towards the one thing that would turn the battle on it's head.
Deep scarlet poured from his lips and his chest, all over the sword and the woman that trumped him in her final desperate move. Dropping his staff, he smiled unexpectedly at the shock in her eyes, slumping tiredly to his knees and further forward on the blade. To Nightrunner, this was another irony to find humor in, before his final moment.
"Check...mate..." he muttered with his final breath, and with that his eyes closed.
Nightrunner was dead.
The triclops took a moment to soak it all in. The young man that was so full of life a moment ago and was so ready to snatch her's was no longer, still kneeling as he grew cold. She pulled the sword from his chest and threw it in the fountain, spreading blood throughout it's rippling waters. Cradling his fallen form in her arms, the triclops didn't wear an expression of victory or satisfaction. Only pity could be found, almost regretting that things had gone this far south between them.
As a final gesture she carried him back inside his mansion home, swallowed up from view by the shadows within.
To be continued...
Next Chapter - "Flashfire Interlude"