Earth, circa 3003
Zatch Bell's millennium reign is at its end, and 100 beings are handpicked to depart their strange, twilight world for the human one. To fight, until but one remains…
Somewhere on New Earth, a beautiful girl hurried through a burning forest.
The leaves crunched under her boots.
The smoky air burned her throat.
The underbrush ripped at her clothes.
A drooping branch freed her long hair of its bow.
She didn't see a protruding tree root and went down, barely catching herself on her hands.
Above her, above the tree line, above the clouds even, a shadow moved across the gloom. A creature of mass and strength, Damascius was also a Mamodo of considerable intelligence, if Neri remembered correctly.
Figures an adversary so formidable would find her in such a vulnerable state. Neri closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to catch her breath. She had been running for what felt like hours.
She'd been running since the damn battle for the Mamodo throne began.
Disappear? Now? Today?
Her eyes snapped open hearing his scoff in her head. His voice.
No. No, you can't disappear. Not yet. You don't want my fun to end before the battle's even begun... do you?
The laughter in that voice made Neri grit her teeth. She sprang to her feet just as the darkening sky burst with light. On Damascius' back sat an emaciated-looking human with beady eyes and a bald head.
The man read from the lemon-yellow spellbook he held. "Biraitsu!"
A beam of energy blasted toward her, hitting the ground where she just lay, missing her. But the resulting explosion blew her forward, causing her to hit several trees. She was down for only a few seconds before she was up and running again.
Survive, survive, survive. She had to survive.
To see him again. And destroy him.
She could still feel the ghost of his hand tightening on her throat. The bruising had since healed, but the memory was adrenaline in her veins. She darted in and out of the trees, pushing harder, faster.
There was another frenetic "Biraitsu!" and an arrow of energy scorched the trees ahead of her. Neri pivoted, not breaking stride.
A great fire was erupting across the forest, due to Damascius and his spells, and the muggy air did little to stop its spread. Exotic birds took flight from their nests high in the trees and all manner of tiny mammals were scurrying out of their dens and seeking safety from the smoke and heat.
Above it all, Damascius glided on great, leathery wings, trying to keep up with his prey, and finding it increasingly difficult to do so, even with his keen eyesight. The ensuing chaos of the fleeing animals was distracting him, tripping him up.
"AGOSTONNN," he hissed to his partner anthropomorphically, his voice grating and sibilant. "I'M GOING LOWERR. WE'LL FINISH HER IN ONNNE SSSHOT."
The great beast of a Mamodo tucked his wings and swooped low, toward the fire world he'd created. The animals scattered in all directions as he passed over, sensing a greater predator in him than the flame. Perhaps he would circle back to feast on them once the girl was gone.
Damascius did not recognize her from the Mamodo World, but he saw her book and cared naught else but to destroy it and her.
There she was, ahead. Still moving rather quickly, despite the smoke in her lungs. He knew, from his aerial position, what she was moving toward – a steep, jagged cliff and endless black waters beyond.
Damascius found her persistence irksome. The rush of the chase had faded some time ago, and now he was eager to finish it.
Neri felt them closing in but dared not look back; it would only slow her down.
And she was so close.
"AGOSTONNN!" Damascius said, unhinging his massive jaw for the finishing blow. She would be unable to avoid the attack from this range.
Neri's feet pounded into the ground as she willed herself to that edge, heart racing.
So close.
"Biraitsu!" Destructive light burst from Damascius' mouth.
Neri was only yards away now, but it was still too far. She wouldn't make it. The beam approached fast, and she had just enough time to pull her book around and hug it to her chest before she was struck.
The blast took Neri, and much of the earth and trees around her, airborne. Over jagged rocks and depthless waters. Her raspy scream followed her hundreds of feet into the dark.
For a long time, there was only the sound of Damascius' heavy flapping as he circled over the ocean. When she didn't resurface, he marked her for dead and returned to the forest for his victory feast with a loud screech that could be heard for miles.
In the small nation-state of Kanem-Bhort, a young man with old eyes watched the sun set over the ocean.
Hallard Hardrada VI had lost all sense of time. Which had been his intent from the first.
To keep distracted. To forget.
Though to forget was impossible (particularly today), he'd managed to do an alright job keeping his mind preoccupied so as not to be consumed by those pesky, unwelcome thoughts.
He'd done a bit of unpacking, a bit of cooking. He'd painted the walls of his entire sitting room ivory and had the dried paint splotches on his hands and clothes to prove it.
Now, he was laying on the warm sands of the beach, watching the sky. The sun was finally setting, bringing an end to this hateful anniversary.
Yellow to orange to pink. Light was fading quickly, so Hal decided he best get going. He was still rather new to the area and didn't trust his faulty sense of direction enough to get him home in the night.
He sighed and stood, grabbing the paperback he'd brought but barely read. Sandals in hand, he started down the beach in the direction of his apartment, whistling a short hymn.
Hal didn't think he could find a place more peaceful than this one if he searched a lifetime. Kanem-Bhort was a developing country at, what felt like, the edge of the world. Far from everything he'd ever known – family, convenience, prestige.
He wouldn't have it any other way.
Seagulls with feathers varying in warm colors drifted overhead. The roar of the surf was soothing, therapeutic almost. As was the salt-scented air – Hal took a lungful of it and exhaled slowly.
He didn't think it possible; to feel so… so… at peace again.
Hal reveled in that – in not feeling burdened by the hopelessness and regret and anxiety he'd felt over the last two years. He wasn't such a fool to believe those thoughts were gone forever; he knew they would always be with him.
But he could appreciate their absence now, in this moment.
Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute the old mantra went.
Hal allowed himself a small smile, feeling, of all things, hopeful.
I will be okay.
Ironically, it was his last conscious thought before he saw it. And his life changed forever. (Again.)
From the peak of a skyscraper, a willowy, teenage boy gazed out at the twinkling metropolis below with a thoughtful expression.
The wind was stronger at this height. He felt it tugging at his loose blouse; felt it threading through his wavy, orange-yellow hair.
Singing to him. Calling for him.
He wished to return to the skies. He wished to burn. To wake this sleeping city with fire and blood.
But not yet. The time was not now. But soon.
Already reports were becoming more and more frequent. Strange things were happening, things that could not be explained by mere human definition; 130+ Allied troops were found frozen solid in a northern encampment; several sightings of a boy with the arms and feet of an eagle in an American ghetto; a pile of exsanguinated corpses found in the jungles of an otherwise peaceful island-country.
Not much longer now.
The sound of footsteps drew his attention away from the city, and his thoughts.
Approaching was a tall, slender androgynous male, with bulbous cheekbones, dressed in a suit and heels. Blonde hair curled at his sharp jawline. His lips were painted as dark as the night sky above. And tucked in the nook of his arm was a salamander-orange spellbook.
The boy smirked as the man came to stand beside him. "Anders. I didn't think you'd still be up."
The man, Anders, gave a wistful, dramatic sigh. "I wish I could sleep. All of this waiting is making me anxious. I've even started to break out! See, look!"
The boy didn't look. "Not much longer now," he repeated out loud.
Anders placed a hand on a sassy hip, but otherwise didn't respond.
They stood in silence for a time, until Anders asked, his tone off-hand, "You really think she survived? That girl?"
A smile split the boy's face, knowing at once who his partner meant. "Oh yes." Yes, she survived. He could still feel her out there, somewhere. And he could hardly wait for their reunion.