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This was also posted in Archive ages ago, but no-one read it. So I'll post it here. Please give it a go, and don't just post saying "It's too long!". If it's too long, don't read it. Thanks.
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NEWBIE MENACE II: REAPER STRIKES BACK
Five years have passed since the victory of the FOG against the Newbies, and the death of Turbo. Yesterday’s soldiers have become today’s politicians. The belief is that Reaper perished at the hands of RastaBillySkank. But the Abbot of WLT knows otherwise, and he has kept his monks on alert.
But the pain of loss and thirst for revenge was too much for some. Iguana, of the Order of WLT, had assembled a loose group of veterans too embittered against Reaper and the Banned Ones to forget what had happened.
And so she searches, throughout the Wilderness, returning only occasionally to the FOG, where is a legend among the ranks. But her group is losing solidarity. Five long years have taken their toll on the Avengers. Their numbers have dwindled, and Iguana forays deeper and deeper into the Wilderness.
The Council of FOG has had enough. They plan to send a recovery team to get Iguana, led by the veteran, and former Avenger, Major Stryke…
Tony rose, his robes folding around him.
“ This session of the FOG Council is open. Major Stryke, please rise.”
The offical bodyguard of the Digiveridia Councillor, Insomnia, rose swiftly to his feet. A long, white scar traced diagonally across his neck, and his eyes were deep and harrowed. He carried no weapons, for none were allowed in the Council Hall.
“ You, Major Stryke, are a former friend of the renegade known as Iguana.”
Stryke stiffened, slightly. His eyes focused, and his mind went back to a point, two years ago…
****
Iguana grabbed Stryke by the throat and forced him backwards.
“ IT IS NOT OVER!”
She stepped over the still cooling corpse of Dogfather, one of the three Banned Ones they hunted. Stryke gasped, his breath coming shallow and ragged. Iguana growled, and let go. She span and kicked him forcibly in the midriff. He staggered backwards, collapsing at the foot of a earth barrier.
“ You and I formed the Avengers, Stryke. You still hunt for the scum that killed your friend, and the One that gave you that scar…”
Stryke touched the scar he had been given by a Banned One – scum that still walked free. He staggered to his feet slowly.
“ No. It is over, Iguana. They cannot be found. They must be dead. We have killed the one we tracked for three years.”
He prodded the corpse with is boot. Iguana turned wild-eyed.
“ HE KILLED TURBO!” she yelled, manically.
“ Iguana, enough.”
He turned to leave, facing back towards the distant green of the Chatlands.
“ Turn around.”
Stryke paused, his breathing laboured.
“ I said, TURN AROUND!”
Stryke swivelled slowly, fists clenched. Then Iguana struck, feet flying, smashing Stryke’s nose. She leapt, kicking him flying backwards into a pile of bones. He coughed, sending blood onto his jacket. She grabbed him, and landed a blindingly quick series of punches to his torso. Another jab with a leg cut his feet out from under him. Stryke crashed to the ground, bloodied and beaten. She stood over him, grimacing.
“ Get lost. No-one can face a WLT monk in combat. You will never defeat me.”
Stryke stared, fear in his eyes. Then he turned, and ran.
Major Stryke gulped.
“ Yes, she was a friend.”
Tony looked curious, but didn’t ask.
“ Then I charge you with her recovery. Her misguided quest is pointless.”
Major Stryke jerked his head up towards Tony.
” I can’t defeat her. She is too quick. Too… powerful.”
He hung his head in shame. Then a loud bang rang out. The huge copper doors of the Hall were bending inwards.
“ What the?” said Insomnia, rising from his seat. Stryke snarled. Tony quickly tapped a few keys on his armrest.
“ Who is that? Where are the guards?”
In response a grating sound returned, gabbled.
“ That’s Spam!” exclaimed Stryke. “ The guards are dead. Newbies are out there!”
Tony gulped.
“ They mean to destroy us!”
Stryke chortled.
“ Of course they do. Now, you have a choice. Can you get someone out of here?”
Tony nodded.
“ Then send someone to the Abbey of WLT. RBS will help.”
Tony looked around the assembled councillors.
“ But who? We are all politicians. Rasta ceded from the Council after the Great War.”
Grix Thraves, former leader of the Notables, now Prime’s Councillor, rose.
“ Rasta will respect a soldier. I propose we send Major Stryke.”
Stryke strode forward.
“ No!” he yelled into the growing support. “ I stay by my councillor. His safety is my concern.”
Insomnia walked slowly to Stryke, and whispered in his ear. Stryke shook his head again. The copper doors bent inwards again. Handprints could be seen as the Newbies hammered on it.
“ You will all die!” shouted Stryke, desperately. Grix shook his head.
“ They need us. We are moderately safe. Stryke, we need Iguana. You must find her, and ask for her help. She…. Wasn’t wrong.”
Stryke looked up at Grix, fire burning in his eyes.
“ You mean?”
“ Stryke, you must go!” shouted the Web Councillor.
The soldier looked up at Insomnia. He nodded sedately. Then Grix strode over to a small tapestry. He wrenched it open, revealing a hatch. He quickly tapped a code in, causing the hatch to swing open. Stryke kicked open a box by its side, retrieving a gun. Grix stood by the door, and as Stryke passed, he ducked down to whisper something in his ear.
” The Seven Towers.”
Stryke looked questioningly at Grix, before the councillor saluted and shoved Stryke down the escape route. The route collapsed behind him, sealing off the possibility of chase. And their escape, grimaced Stryke. Then he was gone, running swiftly away from the Hall.
The door exploded inwards, sending shards of copper into the marble walls. The smoke hid the invaders, causing a moment of silence, as the councillors waited to see who came through.
Five bullets lanced through the space, thudding into Tony’s skull. The Council leader fell backwards, blood streaking from his wounds. Then a squad of JATs filed through the hole – The elite troops of the Wilderness. Then a figure walked through, scars laced down his cheeks. He strolled towards the Council, pistol clutched in one hand. He was banked by a tall, thin figure, hissing quietly. The JATs seized the Councillors, roughly binding them to their chairs. The scarred figure sat slowly in Tony’s chair. He pulled the barrel of his gun slowly across the marble rest, then sighed. He leaned forward, revealing to the Council his face. They drew back. A network of scars covered his face. Bright blue tattoos streaked across his shaven head, and the tips of fangs protruded from below his top lip. Grix dropped his head in resignation.
“ I am Reaper. I am back. You will die.” The figure said simply.
**
Stryke rolled out of the tunnel, expecting to be met by newbies. But nothing. The quiet landscape of FOG was undisturbed. Could it have been something other than Newbies? And if it was, why was there no invasion force?
Stryke forced his mind back to the mission. He had to get to the WLT Abbey. That meant transport. He was at the heart of Prime. The Abbey was near the borders, in the moors. Could he trust the army depots? He made a decision, and ran out onto the main road bordering the Hall. A distressed regular swerved to avoid him, then Stryke wrenched open the door, and threw the regular out onto the road. He crunched his foot down onto the accelerator, and churned up some mud into the face of the carless regular.
**
Stryke slumped in the chair Rasta indicated.
“ Rasta! The Council has..”
“ Been taken over by Reaper.” Rasta smiled at Stryke’s mystified expression. “ I have my sources. Listen, Stryke, this is no time for rushing. You have come to me to learn.”
“ No, I need help to find Igu…” Stryke began. Rasta held up his hands.
“ You will not defeat her without my training.”
Stryke opened his mouth to reply, then word’s that Iguana had said, years ago, came back to him.
‘ No one can face a WLT monk in combat. You will never defeat me’.
” You want to train me in the ways of WLT?”
Rasta smiled. “ Yes. Come with me.”
**
Rasta stood in the padded room.
“ This is the Novice Dojo. After you finish being a novice, you will proceed through the Djinns, One to Five. Then you become a Master. Like Iguana. Now, hit me.”
Stryke drew back. Then Rasta flew at him, blows coming from nowhere. Stryke landed face down, with Rasta pinning his arms.
“ A WLT Master can move through time faster than the ordinary person. We can post with speed. We fight by moving through time quicker than the rest of the world. And we NEVER hesitate.”
He backed off, allowing Stryke to rise to his feet, shakily.
“ Now, hit me.”
Stryke thrust a foot out, hoping to catch Rasta in the kneecap. Then the Abbot was behind him, throwing him forwards into the wall.
“ Anticipate the opponents moves. Feel, don’t think. Trust your instincts.”
Stryke growled. He was angry now. He flipped up onto his feet and span, arching a foot out at the space where Rasta’s head was. The Master just leant backwards, allowing the foot to brush past his face. He gestured towards Stryke, sending the solider backwards.
“ Never act in anger. A WLT monk is always calm. We are a religious order. Our methods of fighting are done for self-defence.”
Stryke stood up again, breathing heavily. Rasta hung his head.
“ Maybe I cannot teach you. Mediate here for the night.”
He slipped swiftly out of the dojo, leaving Stryke standing in the middle of the room. Stryke grimaced. He sat down, legs crossed, eyes closed. He WOULD bring Iguana back. He focused his mind.
Outside, Rasta grinned sedately. Stryke was the key he needed to bring back Iguana. She was the only hope now.
**
Reaper lounged in the High Council seat, idly throwing peanut shells onto the bloodied corpse of Tony. His sharp eyes caught something, and he sat upright. He rose swiftly, and padded over to the slightly opened hatch. He looked down the tunnel, seeing the distant splash of green. He howled in anger, then spun and hit Grix hard across the face. The former Notable leader fell backwards, but Reaper grabbed him and shoved his face up close.
“ Who?”
Grix remained resolutely silent.
“ Who? I won’t ask again.”
Grix was resolute. Reaper shook his head, and pulled his gun out.
“ Wait!” Insomnia rose. “ Grix, it will do no good to get yourself killed. It was Stryke.”
Reaper grinned. He beckoned to the tall, intimidating figure behind him.
“ You know this Stryke?”
The Banned One known as Whooo grinned evilly.
“ He is mine to kill.”
“ Then go.” Whispered Reaper.
Whooo howled his pleasure to the Hall. He threw himself forward, pelting through the tunnel. This was going to be fun.
**
Stryke stood alone in the courtyard.
“ Face your fears.” Rasta’s voice echoed around the courtyard. Stryke grimaced, and chewed on the herbs Rasta had given him. The world took on a hazy look. Rasta stepped out into the courtyard. Stryke yelled. Vottenator stood before him.
“ But I killed you!” he yelled, scrambling backwards.
” Face your fears.” Said Rasta again, advancing towards Stryke, who struggled to his feet, his eyes wide with fear. Through his eyes, Vottenator drew back a fist.
“Face your fears.” The voice came a third time. Stryke gulped, and shakily placed his feet in a combat pose. Vottenator struck, but Stryke brought his hands up into a block. Vottenator smiled, and twisted with the force, slamming a palm into the pressure point at the back of Stryke’s neck, who crumpled to the floor, groaning. The world swam back into focus. Rasta stood where Vottenator had been, looking at his nails.
“ How did I beat you?” he muttered.
Stryke felt a surge of anger. The monk had tricked him. He launched himself to his feet, and forwards the monk. Rasta flipped backwards, somehow landing a blinding flurry of blows to the back of Stryke’s legs. They suddenly went numb, and the soldier crumpled to the ground, gasping. Rasta bent down.
“ Your legs are stuck at the joints. I can fix it. But, I will not. Tomorrow, I will return. A WLT monk is adaptable. He does not act in anger. He has no fear.”
He straightened up and walked to the exit.
“ Remember, this will make you a better warrior. You will need to be. A storm is coming.”
**
Whooo crept soundlessly to the entrance of the Abbey, sniffing the air. His quarry was close. He felt the welt of skin at his shoulder – A lasting reminder of what Stryke had done to him. He tasted the air. He was close…
**
Stryke lay on his back in the courtyard, gazing up at the stars.
‘ A WLT Monk does not act in anger. He is adaptable. He has no fear. He moves faster through time. He does not hesitate’.
A quick movement from the side made him jerk his head around. A shadow was briefly visible in the moonlight between two pillars. He cursed. Something was here. He sat up, pounding his useless legs. This was trouble. The shadow was briefly visible again. A faint hiss reached his ears. Oh no..
“ I know you’re there!” Yelled Stryke, into the darkness.
“ How verrrrrry observant of you.” Hissed a vioce quietly in his ear. He spun around. Nothing. Then a blow landed behind his shoulder blades. He crashed forward, slamming into the cobbles of the courtyeard. An acrid smell met his nostrils, the smell of decay. A shadow rose behind him, tall, and Stryke felt an impact in his ribcage. He yelled in pain, and rolled to narrowly avoid the next blow.
“ Why so weak, rrrrrrrregular?” hissed the shadow. He punched downwards again, splitting Stryke’s lip. He thrust his face close to the bleeding soldier’s. Stryke snorted.
“ Whooo. Should have known that stink could only have come from you.”
Whooo screamed in anger and launched a blow that sent Stryke flying backwards against a pillar. Vertabrae crunched in protest, and Stryke fell to the cobbles again, pain lancing down his spine. Cold sweat dripped down his face. He was helpless in the face of a trained warrior. And he was going to die. Whooo hefted Stryke onto his shoulders and slammed him into a wall. Stryke’s cheek split and blood erupted outwards onto Whooo’s face. The Banned One licked at it, grimacing at the taste. He landed a stinging uppercut that sent Sryke groggily into a wall. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he slumped. The last sight he thought he’d ever see was a flash of white as Whooo advanced on him…
**
Stryke opened his eyes hazily. A figure clothed in white stood over him.
“ Am I dead?” he muttered slowly.
“ Far from it.” Whispered the figure. Stryke looked around. He was in a stone room. He blinked again, and the world focused. It was Rasta standing over him.
“ What happened?”
“ I arrived just in time. Two monks were found with their throats slit at the gate. I remembered how I had left you. I defeated Whooo, but the need for you to get to the san was too great. He… escaped.”
Stryke lay back, secretly pleased. Rasta had not killed him That meant Stryke could.
“ How soon can I get back to training.”
“ Not for a week, I’m afraid.” Said Rasta, apologetically.
Stryke nodded, and stood up.
“ Hey! Didn’t I just say…” yelled Rasta.
“ You did, Master. Then I remembered a WLT Monk is always adaptable.”
Rasta nodded in approval. The boy was learning.
“ Then let us begin. To the cliffs.”
**
Reaper slammed a fist into the face of Whooo, re-opening a wound given to him Rasta.
“ You were defeated?”
Whooo staggered backwards, hands raised.
“ Please, my Lord, we know where he is hiding. We can go in again!”
Reaper snarled, and strode one pace towards Whooo and slammed a gun barrel up against his forehead.
“ Idiot! Have I taught you nothing? The whole point of this plan is for NO ONE to know we have power! The WLT monks will be on the alert, seeing as you killed two of them. ON YOUR KNEES!”
Whooo bent down, shaking in fear.
“ Please master. I will wait… I can kill Stryke when he leaves the monastery. All is not lost…”
Reaper relaxed his grip on Whooo.
“ You have a point. We don’t as yet know what Stryke is trying to do.”
He nodded, and kicked Whooo backwards.
“ Get out my sight. Take a JAT with you. Send him back when Stryke leaves the Abbey. Don’t attack Stryke until you know what he is doing. Understand?”
Whooo nodded frantically, then turned and loped from the room. Reaper slammed his gun onto the armrest.
“ Come here JAT.” He beckoned at an emotionless figure, who stepped forward. Reaper unloaded his cartridge dispassionately into the newbie, relishing the spray of blood as the figure collapsed to the floor. Stryke wouldn’t get away. He would be brought before Reaper. And then, thought Reaper, licking his lips, he would break the scum’s spine.
**
Stryke and Rasta stood on the cliff. Two monks stood opposite them.
“ This is the Arena, Stryke.” Said Rasta softly. “ These monks can slice time. You need to defeat them. With nothing but the combat methods you know.”
Stryke nodded, and walked into the chalked area. The monks bowed. Stryke didn’t move. They bowed again, uncertain. Then Stryke struck, moving between them, spinning to pick up a stick from the ground. He swept the legs out from under one, then kicked out, relying on the momentum of his spin the knock the other off his feet. He span the stick round, landing a blow the head of one, poleaxing him. Then the other slammed a fist into the torso of Stryke, sending him backwards towards the cliff. A flurry of blows sent Stryke reeling. He spun the wood round again, but the monk ducked. This gave Stryke enough time to land a stinging uppercut, followed by a brutal head-butt. He was breathing deeply, but turned to face Rasta.
“ I tire of your little games, Master.”
“ You used a weapon.” Said Rasta blankly.
“ A WLT monk is always adaptable, right?” said Stryke, cynically.
Rasta nodded, and laughed. Stryke laughed as well, then Rasta had covered the gap between them. A single blow sent Stryke over the cliff top, and plunging towards the raging sea below. Stryke gasped in terror, hands scrabbling at the side. A sharp rock sliced through his skin, leaving flecks of blood on the rock. The bittersweet smell of seaweed filled his nostrils. He shouted in agony as his arm hooked onto a small tree. The pain jolted through his collarbone. He hung there, gazing down at the churning white water below. Above, Rasta looked down.
“ You never disobey me. While you are here, I am the Master, and you will do what I say.”
Then he turned and strode away.
“ WAIT!” yelled Stryke. “ What am I supposed to do? Climb this by myself?”
His cries were answered by silence.
**
Rasta was standing in the Iron Dojo as Stryke staggered in, clothes ripped. Before he could say anything, Rasta turned.
“ This is the Iron Dojo. It is designed to test your ability to slice time.”
” But I don’t KNOW how to slice time.”
“ No one does.” Intoned Rasta, and was out of the dojo in a flash. Stryke clenched his fists together. The door clicked shut and Stryke was left alone in the semi light. He could see faint stains that he hoped weren’t blood. Suddenly little hatches opened all over the dojo. A huge blow caught him behind the head and he toppled over. He groaned, and picked up what had hit him. A metal ball. He flipped to his feet. The another came, swift as lightning, slamming into his calf. He staggered backwards, and another took the leg out, placing him neatly on his back. He rose again, fiery determination in his eyes. Then he swept to one side, almost dodging one ball, but it carved a gouge in his arm. He bit his lip and clenched his other hand to the wound.
“ You must FEEL where the objects will come from. Extend your mind. Otherwise, you will die.”
Rasta’s emotionless tones rang through the dojo. Stryke gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He tried to form a picture of the room in his mind. He tried to extend his senses outwards…
There. He felt a glimmer from one hole. A milli-second later, an iron ball shot out. Stryke flipped to the side, and something happened. The world faded in colour, briefly, to a shade of blue. It slowed, and he flipped twice more. When he stopped, the ball had just passed the spot where he had been. The other side of the room. He glanced around wildly, and behind the walls, Rasta smiled. Stryke breathed in again. This time he knew he could do it. Five balls shot out in tandem from the walls. Stryke ran forward, the world fading to blue around him. He rolled over one that was moving at a snail’s pace, and kicked another from the air, sending it deep into the wall. He flipped backwards, avoiding the spikes of the last three, and finished facing the door. Rasta opened in immediately. He was smiling broadly.
“ You are ready.”
“ For what?”
“ Your final test.”
Rasta turned and walked smartly away, heading for an ominous building.
“ Welcome, to the Masters Dojo.”
**
Rasta span, flipping a staff of wood into his hand from a rack. He pointed it at Stryke.
“ Choose your weapon.”
Stryke gulped, looking at the fearsome array of swords, axes and daggers behind him. He reached for a broadsword, then remembered something. He smiled, and picked up a thin, steel blade, etched with runes. He spun it a few times, nodded, and sheathed it. Then he turned to Rasta.
“ I will not fight you Master.”
Rasta tilted his head to on side, smiling slightly.
“ You will.”
Then he leapt, staff twisting in his hands, arching down for a blow to Stryke’s head. He whipped out the sword, slicing time with ease, blowing the blow. They battled across the room, leaping away from the spikes that covered the wall. Rasta locked up Stryke’s sword, then backhanded him across the room. Stryke turned the fall into a roll, and was up just in time to block a blow that would have caved his windpipe in. He spun his legs around, supporting his body on one arm, and took the legs out from under Rasta. He ran, slicing time thinner and thinner, forcing Rasta backwards. The Abbot balanced on one foot, arching the staff up to block a blow… that wasn’t there. Stryke executed a sweep, brought Rasta to his knees, spun, kicked the staff away, and pointed the sword at Rasta.
“ You are defeated, Master.” Said Stryke, blood dripping down his face. Rasta sighed.
“ It is said when a master cannot beat the apprentice, he is no longer the master. However..”
Rasta reached up and gripped on the sword blade. He tugged it towards him, forcibly pulling Stryke down to his level.
“ I am not the Master for nothing.”
He moved quicker than Stryke could see. Stryke ran, slicing time is desperation. But Rasta was too quick. Then a lightning fast flurry of blows hit him, paralysing his legs and arms. He flopped to the ground. Rasta appeared, on the other side of the dojo.
“ How did you..” began Stryke.
Rasta walked up, and showed his hands. They were uncut. He wasn’t even breathing heavily.
“ You lulled me into a false sense of security.” Groaned Stryke.
“ I let you believe you could beat me, therefore you beat me.” Rasta said, simply. Stryke groaned again. Rasta hit a few places on the soldier’s arms and legs, and Stryke was free. He stood up.
“ I guess my training must continue then Master.” He sighed.
“ Why? You are ready. You must go. Now. Time is running out.” Rasta turned and faced towards the window, brow furrowed. Stryke opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, sheathed the sword and ran from the room. Rasta crossed his legs, and mediated. When he was sure Stryke was gone, he held out his hands, grabbed a bandage from a cabinet, and looked at his palms. He nodded. They erupted with blood, along the lines where he had gripped the sword. He grimaced, and quickly tied the bandages over them. He bowed his head.
“ We have control over time. We cannot stop it.” He whispered, softly.
**
Reaper beckoned to the shadowy figure in front of him.
“ Whooo may not suceeed. I need you to do this for me. You can kill Stryke.”
“ I’ve had five years of training for it.” The figure snapped. The figure advanced towards the light. Insomnia gulped as a hardened face emerged. He gripped hard on his armrest.
“ Who is it?” whispered Grix.
“ It’s the end of us. Stryke’s death. Vottanator.”
Vottanator twisted his neck to and fro, revealing hideous scarring down one side of his face. He licked his lips, the chance to kill Stryke burning in his mind.
“ That Stryke has made some powerful enemies.” Whispered Grix.
“ Tell me about it. If I was that boy, I’d pray I got killed before either of those monsters reaches him.” Grunted Insomnia, sorrowfully.
**
Stryke drove the jeep purposefully, heading for a region of the Archive no-one really remembered any more. The realm of the Seven Towers. He didn’t know what he’d find there, only that Grix reckoned it was important. He hammered his fist on the side of the jeep, pictures of Whooo’s victory over him still bright in his mind. He wouldn’t let it stand. He squinted into the distance. Seven pillars of rock, outlining an ancient amphi-theatre were on the horizon. All the world is but a stage… mused Stryke as he floored the accelerator.
**
Stryke paced through the huge arch, out onto the sand. Emptiness. Echoes danced around the seven Towers as his feet crunched the ancient grains. He looked around, blade gripped lightly in one hand.
“ Welcome to our stage.” A voice flitted across the space. Stryke spun, handgun raised.
“ Why do you come to us?” another voice, deep and threatening. Stryke whirled round, his sword clenched tight. Then a figure stepped out from behind a pillar.
“ Once upon a time, there were 40,000 regulars here, cheering every movement of your sword.” He whispered, the theatre resounding the tones round the soldier.
“ Now, the winds of time howl only to the sand.” This time the voice came from behind him. He turned quickly. Nothing. He turned back. Two figures were in front of him, swarthed in black cloths. Stryke backed off, sword pointed at one, gun pointed at the other.
“ Oh, put it away Stryke. It’s insulting to think I haven’t anticipated your every move.” One said, grinning. Stryke nodded, slowly, lowering his weapons.
” Who are you?”
One chortled.
“ One of Nine.” It said. “ The only one left from a proud unit.” It unwrapped it’s bandages. Stryke grunted.
“ Sniper. Thought you were dead.”
“ So does everyone.” Sniper intoned. Stryke nodded at the other.
“ He is the desert spirit itself. He came for me, when I was lying on the battlefield. He is mischief personified. Meet Loki.”
Loki bowed, uttering no sound.
“ Why have you come to us?” asked Sniper, unmoving.
“ Grix told me.. Seven Towers.”
Loki turned to Sniper, and nodded. Sniper grunted, but turned and ran to the far side of the theatre, grabbing a long box that lay there. He sprinted back, holding it out before him. Loki snapped the lid open, withdrawing a long, thin sword of silver.
“ You have there one of the Time Swords. That Rasta let you have it is no accident. This is the other. They were meant for someone to wield. I hope that it you.” Said Loki, in a deep, fiery voice.
Stryke withdrew his sword, and grasped the hilt of the other, his mouth wide in wonder. Then he spun them around and sheathed them on his back. He turned to thank Loki, but the mysterious stranger erupted in a shower of sand. Stryke held a hand over his mouth, choking, then Sniper was before him.
“ You could come back with me, Sniper.” Stryke offered, knowing the answer.
“ I cannot. My place is here. I am cannot leave.” He leant forward, smiling. “ Both swords are not meant for you. You will know.”
Then he vanished, not in a cloud of sand, but with the guile of a trained warrior. Stryke shook his head sadly. The Notables were truly gone. He turned and trudged back to the jeep. Now for Iguana. She had to be out there.
**
The fire blazed. Stryke threw more wood onto it, rubbing his hands together. He was at the edge of the Chatlands, about to cross over into the Wilderness. He looked into the shadows, grimacing. He stood up, intending to grab some more firewood. Then something rose out of the woodpile, fist arching out. Stryke reeled backwards, eyes questing for what had hit him. A figure twirled nunchaku around in his hands. He thrust his face into the firelight.
“ Remember me?” he snarled.
Stryke open his mouth and screamed. The figure from his nightmares had appeared. He scrabbled backwards, panting in fear.
“ My God! Vottanator!”
“ It wasn’t God who gave me this face, Stryke. It was you, throwing me from that tower.”
Stryke gasped for air, but his hatred of Vottanator was still there.
“ You expect me to feel sorry for you?” he growled.
“ No Stryke, I expected you to die for me!”
“ But…but… I killed you!”
“ You’d be amazed how much punishment the body can sustain. Oh, I survived Stryke. I have been training for this moment.”
Then Stryke shoved himself up from the ground, swords flashing out of their sheathes. He sliced time as he ran, whirling the blades round.
“ You will die. And this time, I will not miss!” he yelled. Vottenator just stood there, an amused look on his face. Then he turned, whirling one nuchuck round the hilt of Stryke’s sword. He tugged, sending it clattering to the ground. The other snapped closed round Stryke’s leg, causing him to shout in pain as the chains dug into his leg. He slammed back down, head near the fire. Vottanator leapt forward grabbing Stryke’s face, forcing it down towards the fire.
“ Everytime you look in the mirror, you will see MY face!” roared Vottanator, blood pounding behind his eyes. He felt righteous, vengeful. Stryke felt the heat on his cheek, felt his flesh begin to char. Then an outraged roar came from the darkness, and Whooo materialised, moving faster than ever, crashing into Vottanator.
“ HE IS MINE TO KILL!” yelled Whooo in outrage. He ploughed onwards. Stryke gasped and rolled sideways. He scrabbled around for his sword, but a foot crunched down on his palm. He yelped in pain, and looked up. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood there, sword clutched in his hand. Stryke grinned.
“ Lexus! Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Said Stryke, thankfully. Lexus didn’t smile.
“ I didn’t think I’d ever have to see you again. Let’s move. She wants to see you.”
Stryke knew who she was. Lexus was second in command of the Avengers. He would take him to Iguana. Lexus then hit Stryke hard on the back of the head, shoved him into a waiting jeep, and screeched off. Vottanator and Whooo still fought each other in the increasing darkness.
**
Vottanator howled in rage. He picked up Whooo and threw him into the fire. Whooo screamed in pain and leapt out.
“ WE ARE BOTH WORKING FOR REAPER!” Vottanator yelled, Uzi pointed straight at the Banned One. Whooo fell silent, head hung low.
“ Thanks to YOU, he got away.” Grunted Vottanator. “ Come on. Next time, we will kill him. Together.” He swung his nunchuka onto his back and strode off into the darkness, Whooo running to catch up.
**
Lexus was silent as the jeep pounded through the Wilderness, crunching over skulls and breaking down rotting trees. Stryke cleaned his sword, tended his wounds, then tried to speak to Lexus.
“ How did you..” he began.
“ She has her sources.” Replied Lexus curtly.
“ Oh. Why does she..” tried Stryke again.
“ Revenge.” Lexus said, a smile curling his lip. At this Stryke fell silent.
“ I’m a prisoner, aren’t I?” he questioned.
“ Certainly. Sentenced to death, I’d imagine.” Lexus said. Then he turned towards Stryke, anger visible in his eyes. “ You left us. You, who was scarred by a Banned One and had your closest friend murdered by Reaper.”
“ It was over Lexus. Think about why you joined. I was there, remember, fighting with you, at the battle?”
Lexus stared ahead into the wilderness, eyes hard…
**
Five years ago…
Lexus clashed his sword with a newbie, yelling his fury, then spun his axe round to cleave it in half. He turned, his brother Cooky and his friend Torax back to back with him. They worked smoothly, cleaving away at the mass of newbies. Then Lexus hesitated, glaring across at a clear area of the battlefield, and saw a friend of his on the ground, with a Banned One over him.
“ STRYKE!” yelled Lexus. He ran into the mob, sword and axe flying, cutting down newbies. Cooky and Torax ran with him, defending the running veteran. Lexus was hit down, his view obscured. Then he heard a piercing scream. He bit his lip and heaved himself to his feet. Whooo was being pulled back, blood pouring from a shoulder wound. Lexus cheered, and yelled his approval at Stryke, who heard, and turned, grinning. He face froze, he yelled something, and began to run towards Lexus. The soldier turned swiftly. Cooky was walking towards him, smiling. Then Torax rose from the ground, throwing axe positioned in his hand. Lexus’s eyes hardened, and he began to run, shouting warnings to Cooky. He turned to Torax, but the axe had left the traitor’s hand. It churned into Cooky, cleaving his heart. He fell backwards, and Lexus skidded to a halt, catching him. Cooky’s eyes rolled, his breathing was ragged.
“ No..” whispered Lexus softly. Cooky, smiled weakly, but with warmth. Then his eyes closed, and he sighed softly. Lexus laid the body down carefully, wiping away the tears welling in his eyes. Stryke ran up.
“ Damn.” Said the soldier, teeth gritted. Lexus leapt to his feet.
“ TORAX!!!” he screamed, but the newbie’s ranks had closed around the betrayer, shielding him. Lexus began to run forward, but Stryke grabbed him.
“ Lexus, no! It’s too dangerous. They’ll be another time. You hear me? They’ll be ANOTHER TIME!”
Lexus struggled wildly, not heeding the words. He shouted like a wild thing. Stryke shook his head, then landed a massive punch to Lexus’s jaw. He collapsed.
**
Lexus clenched his fists as he drove.
“ Torax is still out there, Stryke. You swore you’d help me find him. Just like you promised Iguana you’d help find Reaper. You let us all down, man. And I trusted you. We all trusted you.”
Lexus swivelled back to the road, eyes tight.
“ We’ll be there soon. Get ready.”
“ For what?”
Lexus grinned, without humour. “ The last fight of your life, army man.”
**
The jeep skidded to a halt in the middle of a camp. Skulls hung from wooden posts, and dark shapes moved in the gloom, always watching. It was almost dawn now, and thin rays of light were illuminating the camp. One such ray landed on the face of Iguana, and she walked slowly up to Stryke. She pulled a nail down his cheek, leaving a thin streak of blood. She laughed.
“ The mighty Major Stryke, Protector of all Digiveridia. Why did you return to the FOG?”
Stryke stared right into her eyes. “ It was the job we were chosen for.”
Iguana laughed again, pacing up and down.
“ I wonder, have you lost your touch? Become weak in the FOG?” She clapped once, and both her and Lexus ran into the tents, sealing them. Stryke reached up and withdrew one sword, taking up a combat stance. He looked around the camp, breathing slowly and calmly. He was ready. Then two newbies charged at him from the nearest tent. He leapt, slicing time slowly, swinging his sword round. He cleaved through one’s neck, sending the head rolling. He landed, and parried a blow from the club the other one wielded. He jumped, letting a clumsy blow pass harmlessly under his feet. He felt anger surge through him. How dare Iguana do this to him? He dropped the sword, and ran swiftly behind the newbie, grabbed its neck, and twisted. The sharp click resounded around the camp, and Stryke let the corpse fall. He flipped over, picking his sword up and pointed it at Iguana’s tent. She emerged, carrying a sword.
“ Let’s do this.” She said, softly. Stryke grinned and ran at Iguana, leaping high, sword held out. They clashed, sending sparks flying. Avengers ran through the camp, yelling at each other.
“ Stryke’s back! Iguana’s fighting him!” They leapt from guard posts, erupted from sleep, and crowded round in a circle as they fought.
The swords went faster and faster, clashing high, low, side to side as each sought for an opening. Then it happened. Stryke send Iguana’s sword flying and her backwards. She grinned.
“ I told you once you can never defeat me. Let’s see what you can do hand to hand.”
Before Stryke could speak, she had blurred, kicking his sword away and landing a boot in his stomach. The Avengers were silent. Some still harboured loyalty to Stryke. He ran and flipped backwards, narrowly avoiding a cutting blow from Iguana. He stopped, and raised his hands in a pose taught to him by Rasta. Iguana nodded her head in approval, then sliced time to enagage. Stryke did the same, parrying her blows, landing his own. They fought back and to, then Iguana gained an opening. He feigned a high blow, then jabbed at the weak knee-joint. Stryke staggered slightly, and that gave her the opening. She placed the kick perfectly, throwing Stryke’s body out of the camp and into the Wilderness. Lexus grinned. She was killing him. Stryke skidded along the ground, slamming into a rock. He groaned, coughing up blood. Iguana began to walk to his sword, when Stryke rose slowly to his feet. He extended a hand outwards, and beckoned to Iguana. She sighed, walking back towards him.
“ You should have walked when you felt the heat around the corner, Stryke.” A voice hissed from behind the rock. Stryke leapt backwards, drawing the sword Loki had given him. He ran backwards towards Iguana, flipping it to her.
“ Later, Iguana. This is now.”
She nodded, and ran back towards the camp. The Avengers were already arming up, as a band of newbies ran over the hill, led by Whooo. Vottanator leapt out from behind the rock, but didn’t attack, he just stood there, aloof. Stryke grabbed his sword, whirled around, and took up position next to Lexus.
“ Just like old times, eh?” grinned Stryke, encouragingly. Lexus allowed himself a slight smile, then he focused on the battle. The newbies hit, forcing the Avengers deep into the camp. Stryke fell backwards, turning the fall into a throw, and sent a newbie onto a sharp wooden spike. He turned, cleaving off the legs of another. He slammed his hilt into one, doubling it up. He thrust his sword deep into its eye, then turned. Lexus was being forced backwards. Five newbies encircled him. Stryke yelled, and launched himself into the attack, cutting down one before they even saw him coming. He fought his way through, but Lexus was on the ground, newbie plunging an axe towards his skull. Stryke threw his sword overarm, scything through the newbie at the midriff. He smiled encouragingly at Lexus, who managed to swing his sword round to kill another newbie, and then smile back. Stryke turned back to the battle, but two newbies bulled into him, shoving him into the back areas of the camp. He struggled, and they dumped him in a deserted area. Stryke quickly cut them in half, but a voice came from the darkness.
“ Vottanator won’t come in here. The Newbies detect a regular by the smell. They’d attack him. Which means…”
Whooo walked out, holding a mace in each of his four arms.
“ I’ve got you all to myself.” Grimaced Stryke. He rose the sword to defence position. Whooo clashed his maces together, and threw one. Stryke dodged it by slicing, and then the attack was joined…
**
Stryke dodged the vicious blow, and vaulted over Whooo’s head. Whooo flipped his three remaining maces over and over, swinging two swiftly towards Stryke, who brought his sword up swiftly, countering one, and deflecting another. Then Whooo slammed a knee up and into the back of Stryke, sending him crashing to the sand. Stryke’s eyes widened as Whooo slammed a mace towards his skull. He shoved upwards with both feet and arms, and he turned the force into a spin that carried him inches clear of the mace head. He steadied himself, and the fight was joined. They clashed over and over, the force of the mace countered by the speed of the sword. Then Whooo struck out with a foot, making Stryke’s ankle buckle. He grunted, and turned the fall into a roll. He leapt up, and was quickly on the offensive. He sliced through the handle of one mace, splintering the end into Whooo’s hand. The Banned One screamed in pain, and lashed out with another mace. Stryke couldn’t move quick enough. The heavy metal thudded into his side, splashing blood outwards. He groaned in pain, and sagged backwards, one hand clutched to his side. He felt the cloth of his shirt turning damp and warm. The blood was flowing too freely. He cast his eyes about, searching for an answer. There – a burning tent support. He limped over to it, eyes screwed up in pain. Then he thrust his sword into the fire, watching worriedly as Whooo picked splinters from his hand. Stryke turned back to the sword, and Whooo charged. The sword was glowing red, and he whipped it from the fire and pressed it hard against the wound. He screamed in pain as the hot metal cauterised the wound. The harsh smell of scorched flesh reached his nostrils, and then Whooo leapt, his two maces raised for the strike. Then Stryke span, slicing time thin, egged on by the pain. He sliced round with the burning sword, slitting the edge through Whooo’s stomach.
“ For Turbo!” yelled Stryke, and brought the sword round again, gashing a deep score across Whooo’s torso.
“ For Tony!” he yelled again, and lashed out diagonally with the sword, opening Whooo’s throat where Stryke had been scarred.
“ For me.” He whispered, and looked on as Whooo, trembling, raised his hands to his throat. Blood was bubbling out with increasing speed. He looked up imploringly at Stryke, his eyes wide. Stryke, for the first time, felt sorry for the pitiful being before him. He span, eyes set, and marched away, as Whooo’s corpse collapsed forward into the sand, a slow pool of russet spreading.
**
Iguana looked sorrowfully around at her camp when Stryke approached. Lexus stood by her, weeping.
“ This is all? The Avengers? All dead?” asked Stryke, incredulously.
Iguana nodded, slowly. Lexus pounded the earth with his fist. Stryke wiped his blade clean and sheathed it.
“ Now do you believe me?” asked Stryke, facing Iguana. She said nothing, but nodded slowly.
“ Then lets go.” Said Lexus, axe in his hand. He leapt into a jeep, and started it. The other two followed, and Iguana let out a sob as they screeched out of the camp riddled with bodies.
**
It was early evening, and the three were camped on the outskirts of Prime. Everyone was arming themselves. Stryke had two swords on his back, and another two at waist holsters. He checked the load and bullets of two machine guns, then rested them on the table. Lexus sat opposite him, a ring of throwing knifes belted around his waist.
“ Torax is there?” asked Lexus. Stryke nodded, still sighting along the barrel. He saw Iguana sitting on a rock, alone, staring at the distant Council citadel. Stryke whipped his fifth sword into a centre sheath, and walked over to Iguana. He leant against a rock, staring at the last rays of sunlight curving around the citadel.
“ You loved him.” Stryke muttered, holstering a pistol. Iguana shifted slowly to face him.
“ Why do we battle to save FOG Stryke? What makes it different from the Wilderness, or the fabled lands of EB?”
“ I have seen much of the rest of the world. It is dark and cold. FOG is the light!”
Iguana shifted again, facing the sunset.
“ Have you ever loved?” she asked, softly. Stryke slid down the rock.
“ There was one, a long time ago. Back home, before I joined the army. She was my world.”
“ What happened to her?”
**
Eight years ago…
Stryke smiled happily at the girl sat next to him. They leant against the massive oak tree on the edge of the field. The sun was high and bright, and they had sat there for hours, saying little, doing nothing. The leaves cast a dappled pattern over his face, and he knew this day would live forever in his memory, and the warmth he felt was nothing to do with the sunlight. He turned to her, mouth opening to ask the question, when an unholy roar erupted from the bushes. Stryke leapt to his feet as tattooed behemoths sprang up, primitive weapons brandished.
” [name], stay with me.” Yelled Stryke. “ They’re Newbies. Whatever comes at us, we will have a better chance if we stay together.”
But she was hysterical and ripped herself from his grasp, running towards the town. Stryke yelled in fear, but she ran on. Time seemed to slow, and Stryke skidded to a halt as the first spear thudded into her body. He ran up to her as another spear went through her ribs. She looked up at him, warmth in her eyes, and she reached up to touch his face gently.
” Go.” She whispered softly.
He held her close as the newbies came closer, then he sprang away and pelted for the woods, spears hitting the ground on either side of him.
**
He clenched his fists tight.
“ She was taken from you.”
Stryke nodded, and hit the rock, teeth gritted.
“ That is how I feel, every single day.” Said Iguana, her face set. “ He was taken from me, and I loved him!”
She turned away, facing towards the sunset.
**
The three crept slowly around the edges of the council hall, eyes tracking the many JATs lining the hall.
“ I’d estimate 30.” Said Stryke, back against the seat. Iguana nodded, and Lexus pointed.
“ There. Leading Reaper’s Guard. Torax.”
“ Now is not the time.” Said Stryke. “ Ready, Iguana?”
She nodded. They clasped hands.
“ Strength and honour.”
Then Iguana and Lexus rolled to the sides, whipping their guns up, shooting a wild burst over the heads of the trapped councillors. Stryke burst out from behind the seats, arms crossed over, machines guns roaring. Ranks of JATs fell, riddled with bullets. Stryke dropped the empty guns and flipped over to where Insomnia and Grix were bound. He rolled across, lashing out with a dagger. Their bindings fell, and Stryke whipped out his back mounted swords.
“ Here. Strength and honour.”
Then he rolled behind a seat and brought another gun into firing position. Iguana leapt out, two pistols held steady. A flurry of shots took down all but three of Reaper’s guard. Lexus charged forward. Torax grinned, an ugly smile. He waved at the two other guards, who grabbed Reaper and leapt behind a marble seat. Then Torax shed his jacket, drew an axe, and strode forward the meet Lexus. Stryke ran along the edge of the first floor and flipped down to the ground. A side door swung open, and Vottanator strode forward, flanked by a fresh squad of Newbies. Stryke gulped as they raised their guns, and he sprinted for the small window out onto the balcony. He dived forward as bullets churned up the marble, and he smashed through the pane. He rolled with the impact and leapt behind a pillar, twin pistols drawn. Vottanator kicked the door open, 6 newbies backing him. Stryke spun round from one pillar to the next, guns blazing. 4 newbies fell to the ground. Then two swords spun through the air, splicing into the newbies. Vottanator withdrew his nunchucks, grinning.
“ We are both professionals. This is personal.” He shouted, the sound echoing around the pillared room. Stryke stepped out, sword clutched double-handed. Vottanator grinned again, and charged.
**
As Lexus and Torax battled out of the room, Iguana was left in the silent hall. Grix and Insomnia looked to her, swords clutched. She beckoned to each side, sending them round the seat where Reaper hid. Then she showered the marble with bullets, decimating the chair. Then the hall fell silent again, for a moment. Two JATs erupted from behind the seat, angling for the two councillors. And Reaper sprang up, unarmed. He grinned at Iguana.
“ You should have heard your love squeal, as I cleaved his skull!” howled Reaper, his arms wide. Then Iguana spun her sword free from its sheath and vaulted down to the floor. She took up combat position, sword held out to the side.
“ You don’t want to die today, Reaper.” She growled.
“ You forget, I’m already dead!” he yelled in response.
“ Not dead enough for me.” Muttered Iguana, and then Reaper charged. No war-cry, just a simple blindingly fast movement, and he had kicked the sword from her hand. Another blow had sent her sprawling. Reaper walked forward, slowly.
**
Lexus slammed his foot into Torax’s leg. He swung the axe round, but Torax was too quick. In a shower of sparks he send the blow slamming into the wood frame of a door. Lexus tugged at it, but it was stuck tight. Torax smiled thinly, and swung his axe round, ready to make the blow. Quick as lightning, Lexus barrelled forward, slamming his shoulder into Torax’s stomach. The newbie doubled over, and his axe slipped from his hand. Lexus charged forward, and the pair went flying over a balcony and crashed into a deep pool. Torax spluttered for breath and shoved Lexus away, making for the bank. Lexus smiled in triumph. He pulled a throwing knife from his belt, sighting carefully. Then he threw, opening a deep wound in Torax’s back. Before the dying newbie could fall, Lexus was on him, pounding his fist over and over again into the face of his nemesis. The newbie died swiftly, but Lexus carried on punching, five years of hatred aimed directly at one fragile body.
**
Vottanator jumped as he ran, the nunchucks leaving his hands, spinning towards Stryke, who was forced to drop to the floor to avoid them, sheathing his sword. Then Vottanator swung a heavy boot, flipping Stryke over. He kicked again, the force throwing the soldier to his feet. He launched a punishing blow that sent Stryke skidding backwards across the marble. Vottanator laughed, a sadistic laugh.
“ You won’t leave this place. You will have to fight me to leave.”
Stryke raised his head shakily. “You would fight me?”
Vottanator snarled. “ You think I am afraid?”
“I think you have been afraid all of your life.”
Vottanator roared in outrage, and charged. But the brief distraction had been enough. Stryke swung his legs around, scoring two blows. He used the momentum to get back to his feet, and land a stinging uppercut that sent the mercenary into a pillar.
“ The Avengers are bloodied and cleaved. I will not believe they died for nothing! I’ll kill you for that!” Roared Stryke, pounding away.
Vottanator blocked a blow and used the force to shove Stryke backwards. He landed a roundhouse kick that sent the soldier reeling, and then dropkicked him square in the chest. Stryke gasped at the impact, and then gaped as Vottanator rolled and leapt from the three storey high room. He rushed to the edge and looked down. The mercenary was running into a ground floor opening to a tower.
“ Been there, done that.” Muttered Stryke, and raced across the ledge to the third floor opening. He jogged up to the top, to wait for his adversary. But as he emerged, Vottanator swung down from his perch atop the doorframe and kicked Stryke firmly in the back, sending him sprawling, but the veteran was too quick and leapt to his feet in time to a parry a sharp blow.
“ Have you ever felt a pain so powerful, so heavy you collapse?” asked Vottanator, as they locked arms.
“ Every day of my life.” Retorted Stryke, as he struggled to be free.
“ Then you know how much I need to kill you. I live only to kill you.”
“ What’s the point in living if you can’t feel alive, you scum?” yelled Stryke, and thrust his head forward, sending Vottanator backwards. Then he reached up and drew his sword, pointing it straight at Vottanator. The mercenary chortled, blood dripping down his forehead.
“ End of the line.” Snarled Stryke.
“ A man tires of being executed.” Vottanator grunted, hand pressed to his head. A silence fell upon them, deafening him.
Vottanator laughed. “ The silence before you strike?”
Stryke laughed as well, and then Vottanator launched himself forwards. Stryke whipped the sword round and through Vottenator. The mercenary looked up at Stryke, his eyes full of questions.
“ I….”
He slumped forward, and his head tumbled slowly across the platform. Stryke squatted onto his haunches, fatigue washing over him.
“ The silence before you strike?”
He stood, wiping his blade clean. He let the silence wash over him, cleansing him. Then he dashed down the tower, aiming for the sounds echoing from the main chamber.
**
Iguana got up shakily. Reaper stood over her.
“ We are but shadows and dust, Iguana, shadows and dust.”
He grabbed her and lifted her high, slamming her body against the wall.
“ At last I reveal myself to you. At last I have my revenge.” He reached and stroked her cheek softly. Then he span and hurled her forcibly into the marble. He laughed as she slid down the smooth stone, leaving a thin smear of blood.
“ You’re finished Reaper. Your army is scattered.” She groaned, still slumped at the bottom of the chair.
“ Let my men see me alive and you shall see where their loyalties lie.” He retorted, swinging a sword casually from hand to hand.
Iguana groaned again. Her vision was going hazy. She focused, willing her mind to help.
**
Rasta’s eyes snapped open. He leapt from his mediation and out the door, slicing time thinner and thinner.
She needed him.
**
Reaper pointed a finger at Iguana, anger suddenly rising within him. Then the door smashed open and lexus and Stryke ran into the room, skidding to a halt at the sign of Reaper standing with a sword in his hand. Reaper grinned, showing long fangs. Lexus attacked first, his axe moving swiftly. Reaper hardly moved, but the axe embedded itself in Lexus’s neck, and the Avenger toppled forward. Iguana sobbed softly into her hand as the corpse dripped blood down into a bullet-hole. Reaper leapt forward, beckoning to Stryke, the sword now in his hand. Stryke grimaced. He knew he was going to die. Iguana raised a hand, trying to stop him. Then Stryke attacked, sword blurring.
Reaper countered every attack calmly, not even breaking a sweat. With one flick he disarmed Stryke, but the soldier executed a smooth flip and kicked Reapers sword away. Iguana looked suddenly at Stryke’s sword as it skidded to a halt near her hand. Reaper inclined his head slightly in admiration. Then Insomnia and Grix leapt out from behind a chunk of marble, swords raised. Reaper flipped round, causing the swords to appear in his hands. He swung idly, beheading the former notable and the veteran councillor. Stryke cursed, blood soaking his hair. He punched at Reaper, slicing time to meet with the newbie leader, ever more desperate, as Reaper calmly flicked away incoming blows.
Then Reaper moved faster, and he had one arm locking Stryke’s arms behind his back, and another tight under his chin. Stryke grimaced, his vertebrae clicking slowly.
“ You hear that, Mr Stryke? That is the sound of your impending doom. The future is our place, it is my time.”
Stryke gargled, blood rising in his throat.
“ Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.” He laughed slowly, fate accepted.
Reaper smiled broadly, then bent down and whispered in Stryke’s ear.
“ You are beneath me.”
He thrust upwards. Stryke’s neck cracked out loud, and Reaper stepped backwards, a look of disgust on his face. He let go, and the body crumpled to the ground. Iguana yelled and rose both swords. Reaper rolled over, picking up his own sword and facing Iguana. Sparks flew to the ground and over the four corpses as they battled, Reaper grinning all the line. He locked swords and leant close to Iguana, smiling into her eyes. Then she threw him backwards, but he was too quick. He thrust his sword though her hand and yelled out, dropping the sword. She brought the other one across, but a kick disposed of that. He twisted the sword, forcing her backwards. She spluttered, hand scrabbling behind her.
“ You are going to die, Iguana.” He whispered.
She grinned. “ I once knew a man who said death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.”
“ So you will smile merrily as a carve your heart from your chest.”
She shook her head. “ I’m not a man.” She brought her hand around from behind her, pistol clutched in it. He didn’t say anything as the cold metal pressed against his forehead. Knowing what would happen, he whipped the sword out of her hand and towards her heart.
“ Dodge this.” She intoned, and sent a slug deep into Reaper’s brain, knowing it was too late. His sword cut through her chest, sending a spray of blood outwards. As Reaper’s corpse collapsed to the ground, and he looked up at her, blood frothing from the wound.
“ Shadows and du…”
She slumped backwards. The window exploded in shards of glass. Rasta plunged through. His face sank as he saw Iguana lying in a pool of her own blood. He rushed over, cradling her in his arms. She was barely moving.
“ You can see him.” He smiled, tears running down his cheeks. “ Go to him.”
Iguana smiled up, and then her eyes clouded and she sighed slowly.
**
Rasta stood alone on the outskirts of the WLT Abbey. He held the twin swords that Iguana and Stryke had carried. He thrust them into soft soil by the newest graves. He looked out, over the now safe FOG lands.
“ Now we are free. I will see you again, my friends.” He gathered his robes around him, and turned towards the Abbey, looking over the crops needing to be harvested.
“ But not yet. Not yet.”
--
NEWBIE MENACE II: REAPER STRIKES BACK
Five years have passed since the victory of the FOG against the Newbies, and the death of Turbo. Yesterday’s soldiers have become today’s politicians. The belief is that Reaper perished at the hands of RastaBillySkank. But the Abbot of WLT knows otherwise, and he has kept his monks on alert.
But the pain of loss and thirst for revenge was too much for some. Iguana, of the Order of WLT, had assembled a loose group of veterans too embittered against Reaper and the Banned Ones to forget what had happened.
And so she searches, throughout the Wilderness, returning only occasionally to the FOG, where is a legend among the ranks. But her group is losing solidarity. Five long years have taken their toll on the Avengers. Their numbers have dwindled, and Iguana forays deeper and deeper into the Wilderness.
The Council of FOG has had enough. They plan to send a recovery team to get Iguana, led by the veteran, and former Avenger, Major Stryke…
Tony rose, his robes folding around him.
“ This session of the FOG Council is open. Major Stryke, please rise.”
The offical bodyguard of the Digiveridia Councillor, Insomnia, rose swiftly to his feet. A long, white scar traced diagonally across his neck, and his eyes were deep and harrowed. He carried no weapons, for none were allowed in the Council Hall.
“ You, Major Stryke, are a former friend of the renegade known as Iguana.”
Stryke stiffened, slightly. His eyes focused, and his mind went back to a point, two years ago…
****
Iguana grabbed Stryke by the throat and forced him backwards.
“ IT IS NOT OVER!”
She stepped over the still cooling corpse of Dogfather, one of the three Banned Ones they hunted. Stryke gasped, his breath coming shallow and ragged. Iguana growled, and let go. She span and kicked him forcibly in the midriff. He staggered backwards, collapsing at the foot of a earth barrier.
“ You and I formed the Avengers, Stryke. You still hunt for the scum that killed your friend, and the One that gave you that scar…”
Stryke touched the scar he had been given by a Banned One – scum that still walked free. He staggered to his feet slowly.
“ No. It is over, Iguana. They cannot be found. They must be dead. We have killed the one we tracked for three years.”
He prodded the corpse with is boot. Iguana turned wild-eyed.
“ HE KILLED TURBO!” she yelled, manically.
“ Iguana, enough.”
He turned to leave, facing back towards the distant green of the Chatlands.
“ Turn around.”
Stryke paused, his breathing laboured.
“ I said, TURN AROUND!”
Stryke swivelled slowly, fists clenched. Then Iguana struck, feet flying, smashing Stryke’s nose. She leapt, kicking him flying backwards into a pile of bones. He coughed, sending blood onto his jacket. She grabbed him, and landed a blindingly quick series of punches to his torso. Another jab with a leg cut his feet out from under him. Stryke crashed to the ground, bloodied and beaten. She stood over him, grimacing.
“ Get lost. No-one can face a WLT monk in combat. You will never defeat me.”
Stryke stared, fear in his eyes. Then he turned, and ran.
Major Stryke gulped.
“ Yes, she was a friend.”
Tony looked curious, but didn’t ask.
“ Then I charge you with her recovery. Her misguided quest is pointless.”
Major Stryke jerked his head up towards Tony.
” I can’t defeat her. She is too quick. Too… powerful.”
He hung his head in shame. Then a loud bang rang out. The huge copper doors of the Hall were bending inwards.
“ What the?” said Insomnia, rising from his seat. Stryke snarled. Tony quickly tapped a few keys on his armrest.
“ Who is that? Where are the guards?”
In response a grating sound returned, gabbled.
“ That’s Spam!” exclaimed Stryke. “ The guards are dead. Newbies are out there!”
Tony gulped.
“ They mean to destroy us!”
Stryke chortled.
“ Of course they do. Now, you have a choice. Can you get someone out of here?”
Tony nodded.
“ Then send someone to the Abbey of WLT. RBS will help.”
Tony looked around the assembled councillors.
“ But who? We are all politicians. Rasta ceded from the Council after the Great War.”
Grix Thraves, former leader of the Notables, now Prime’s Councillor, rose.
“ Rasta will respect a soldier. I propose we send Major Stryke.”
Stryke strode forward.
“ No!” he yelled into the growing support. “ I stay by my councillor. His safety is my concern.”
Insomnia walked slowly to Stryke, and whispered in his ear. Stryke shook his head again. The copper doors bent inwards again. Handprints could be seen as the Newbies hammered on it.
“ You will all die!” shouted Stryke, desperately. Grix shook his head.
“ They need us. We are moderately safe. Stryke, we need Iguana. You must find her, and ask for her help. She…. Wasn’t wrong.”
Stryke looked up at Grix, fire burning in his eyes.
“ You mean?”
“ Stryke, you must go!” shouted the Web Councillor.
The soldier looked up at Insomnia. He nodded sedately. Then Grix strode over to a small tapestry. He wrenched it open, revealing a hatch. He quickly tapped a code in, causing the hatch to swing open. Stryke kicked open a box by its side, retrieving a gun. Grix stood by the door, and as Stryke passed, he ducked down to whisper something in his ear.
” The Seven Towers.”
Stryke looked questioningly at Grix, before the councillor saluted and shoved Stryke down the escape route. The route collapsed behind him, sealing off the possibility of chase. And their escape, grimaced Stryke. Then he was gone, running swiftly away from the Hall.
The door exploded inwards, sending shards of copper into the marble walls. The smoke hid the invaders, causing a moment of silence, as the councillors waited to see who came through.
Five bullets lanced through the space, thudding into Tony’s skull. The Council leader fell backwards, blood streaking from his wounds. Then a squad of JATs filed through the hole – The elite troops of the Wilderness. Then a figure walked through, scars laced down his cheeks. He strolled towards the Council, pistol clutched in one hand. He was banked by a tall, thin figure, hissing quietly. The JATs seized the Councillors, roughly binding them to their chairs. The scarred figure sat slowly in Tony’s chair. He pulled the barrel of his gun slowly across the marble rest, then sighed. He leaned forward, revealing to the Council his face. They drew back. A network of scars covered his face. Bright blue tattoos streaked across his shaven head, and the tips of fangs protruded from below his top lip. Grix dropped his head in resignation.
“ I am Reaper. I am back. You will die.” The figure said simply.
**
Stryke rolled out of the tunnel, expecting to be met by newbies. But nothing. The quiet landscape of FOG was undisturbed. Could it have been something other than Newbies? And if it was, why was there no invasion force?
Stryke forced his mind back to the mission. He had to get to the WLT Abbey. That meant transport. He was at the heart of Prime. The Abbey was near the borders, in the moors. Could he trust the army depots? He made a decision, and ran out onto the main road bordering the Hall. A distressed regular swerved to avoid him, then Stryke wrenched open the door, and threw the regular out onto the road. He crunched his foot down onto the accelerator, and churned up some mud into the face of the carless regular.
**
Stryke slumped in the chair Rasta indicated.
“ Rasta! The Council has..”
“ Been taken over by Reaper.” Rasta smiled at Stryke’s mystified expression. “ I have my sources. Listen, Stryke, this is no time for rushing. You have come to me to learn.”
“ No, I need help to find Igu…” Stryke began. Rasta held up his hands.
“ You will not defeat her without my training.”
Stryke opened his mouth to reply, then word’s that Iguana had said, years ago, came back to him.
‘ No one can face a WLT monk in combat. You will never defeat me’.
” You want to train me in the ways of WLT?”
Rasta smiled. “ Yes. Come with me.”
**
Rasta stood in the padded room.
“ This is the Novice Dojo. After you finish being a novice, you will proceed through the Djinns, One to Five. Then you become a Master. Like Iguana. Now, hit me.”
Stryke drew back. Then Rasta flew at him, blows coming from nowhere. Stryke landed face down, with Rasta pinning his arms.
“ A WLT Master can move through time faster than the ordinary person. We can post with speed. We fight by moving through time quicker than the rest of the world. And we NEVER hesitate.”
He backed off, allowing Stryke to rise to his feet, shakily.
“ Now, hit me.”
Stryke thrust a foot out, hoping to catch Rasta in the kneecap. Then the Abbot was behind him, throwing him forwards into the wall.
“ Anticipate the opponents moves. Feel, don’t think. Trust your instincts.”
Stryke growled. He was angry now. He flipped up onto his feet and span, arching a foot out at the space where Rasta’s head was. The Master just leant backwards, allowing the foot to brush past his face. He gestured towards Stryke, sending the solider backwards.
“ Never act in anger. A WLT monk is always calm. We are a religious order. Our methods of fighting are done for self-defence.”
Stryke stood up again, breathing heavily. Rasta hung his head.
“ Maybe I cannot teach you. Mediate here for the night.”
He slipped swiftly out of the dojo, leaving Stryke standing in the middle of the room. Stryke grimaced. He sat down, legs crossed, eyes closed. He WOULD bring Iguana back. He focused his mind.
Outside, Rasta grinned sedately. Stryke was the key he needed to bring back Iguana. She was the only hope now.
**
Reaper lounged in the High Council seat, idly throwing peanut shells onto the bloodied corpse of Tony. His sharp eyes caught something, and he sat upright. He rose swiftly, and padded over to the slightly opened hatch. He looked down the tunnel, seeing the distant splash of green. He howled in anger, then spun and hit Grix hard across the face. The former Notable leader fell backwards, but Reaper grabbed him and shoved his face up close.
“ Who?”
Grix remained resolutely silent.
“ Who? I won’t ask again.”
Grix was resolute. Reaper shook his head, and pulled his gun out.
“ Wait!” Insomnia rose. “ Grix, it will do no good to get yourself killed. It was Stryke.”
Reaper grinned. He beckoned to the tall, intimidating figure behind him.
“ You know this Stryke?”
The Banned One known as Whooo grinned evilly.
“ He is mine to kill.”
“ Then go.” Whispered Reaper.
Whooo howled his pleasure to the Hall. He threw himself forward, pelting through the tunnel. This was going to be fun.
**
Stryke stood alone in the courtyard.
“ Face your fears.” Rasta’s voice echoed around the courtyard. Stryke grimaced, and chewed on the herbs Rasta had given him. The world took on a hazy look. Rasta stepped out into the courtyard. Stryke yelled. Vottenator stood before him.
“ But I killed you!” he yelled, scrambling backwards.
” Face your fears.” Said Rasta again, advancing towards Stryke, who struggled to his feet, his eyes wide with fear. Through his eyes, Vottenator drew back a fist.
“Face your fears.” The voice came a third time. Stryke gulped, and shakily placed his feet in a combat pose. Vottenator struck, but Stryke brought his hands up into a block. Vottenator smiled, and twisted with the force, slamming a palm into the pressure point at the back of Stryke’s neck, who crumpled to the floor, groaning. The world swam back into focus. Rasta stood where Vottenator had been, looking at his nails.
“ How did I beat you?” he muttered.
Stryke felt a surge of anger. The monk had tricked him. He launched himself to his feet, and forwards the monk. Rasta flipped backwards, somehow landing a blinding flurry of blows to the back of Stryke’s legs. They suddenly went numb, and the soldier crumpled to the ground, gasping. Rasta bent down.
“ Your legs are stuck at the joints. I can fix it. But, I will not. Tomorrow, I will return. A WLT monk is adaptable. He does not act in anger. He has no fear.”
He straightened up and walked to the exit.
“ Remember, this will make you a better warrior. You will need to be. A storm is coming.”
**
Whooo crept soundlessly to the entrance of the Abbey, sniffing the air. His quarry was close. He felt the welt of skin at his shoulder – A lasting reminder of what Stryke had done to him. He tasted the air. He was close…
**
Stryke lay on his back in the courtyard, gazing up at the stars.
‘ A WLT Monk does not act in anger. He is adaptable. He has no fear. He moves faster through time. He does not hesitate’.
A quick movement from the side made him jerk his head around. A shadow was briefly visible in the moonlight between two pillars. He cursed. Something was here. He sat up, pounding his useless legs. This was trouble. The shadow was briefly visible again. A faint hiss reached his ears. Oh no..
“ I know you’re there!” Yelled Stryke, into the darkness.
“ How verrrrrry observant of you.” Hissed a vioce quietly in his ear. He spun around. Nothing. Then a blow landed behind his shoulder blades. He crashed forward, slamming into the cobbles of the courtyeard. An acrid smell met his nostrils, the smell of decay. A shadow rose behind him, tall, and Stryke felt an impact in his ribcage. He yelled in pain, and rolled to narrowly avoid the next blow.
“ Why so weak, rrrrrrrregular?” hissed the shadow. He punched downwards again, splitting Stryke’s lip. He thrust his face close to the bleeding soldier’s. Stryke snorted.
“ Whooo. Should have known that stink could only have come from you.”
Whooo screamed in anger and launched a blow that sent Stryke flying backwards against a pillar. Vertabrae crunched in protest, and Stryke fell to the cobbles again, pain lancing down his spine. Cold sweat dripped down his face. He was helpless in the face of a trained warrior. And he was going to die. Whooo hefted Stryke onto his shoulders and slammed him into a wall. Stryke’s cheek split and blood erupted outwards onto Whooo’s face. The Banned One licked at it, grimacing at the taste. He landed a stinging uppercut that sent Sryke groggily into a wall. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he slumped. The last sight he thought he’d ever see was a flash of white as Whooo advanced on him…
**
Stryke opened his eyes hazily. A figure clothed in white stood over him.
“ Am I dead?” he muttered slowly.
“ Far from it.” Whispered the figure. Stryke looked around. He was in a stone room. He blinked again, and the world focused. It was Rasta standing over him.
“ What happened?”
“ I arrived just in time. Two monks were found with their throats slit at the gate. I remembered how I had left you. I defeated Whooo, but the need for you to get to the san was too great. He… escaped.”
Stryke lay back, secretly pleased. Rasta had not killed him That meant Stryke could.
“ How soon can I get back to training.”
“ Not for a week, I’m afraid.” Said Rasta, apologetically.
Stryke nodded, and stood up.
“ Hey! Didn’t I just say…” yelled Rasta.
“ You did, Master. Then I remembered a WLT Monk is always adaptable.”
Rasta nodded in approval. The boy was learning.
“ Then let us begin. To the cliffs.”
**
Reaper slammed a fist into the face of Whooo, re-opening a wound given to him Rasta.
“ You were defeated?”
Whooo staggered backwards, hands raised.
“ Please, my Lord, we know where he is hiding. We can go in again!”
Reaper snarled, and strode one pace towards Whooo and slammed a gun barrel up against his forehead.
“ Idiot! Have I taught you nothing? The whole point of this plan is for NO ONE to know we have power! The WLT monks will be on the alert, seeing as you killed two of them. ON YOUR KNEES!”
Whooo bent down, shaking in fear.
“ Please master. I will wait… I can kill Stryke when he leaves the monastery. All is not lost…”
Reaper relaxed his grip on Whooo.
“ You have a point. We don’t as yet know what Stryke is trying to do.”
He nodded, and kicked Whooo backwards.
“ Get out my sight. Take a JAT with you. Send him back when Stryke leaves the Abbey. Don’t attack Stryke until you know what he is doing. Understand?”
Whooo nodded frantically, then turned and loped from the room. Reaper slammed his gun onto the armrest.
“ Come here JAT.” He beckoned at an emotionless figure, who stepped forward. Reaper unloaded his cartridge dispassionately into the newbie, relishing the spray of blood as the figure collapsed to the floor. Stryke wouldn’t get away. He would be brought before Reaper. And then, thought Reaper, licking his lips, he would break the scum’s spine.
**
Stryke and Rasta stood on the cliff. Two monks stood opposite them.
“ This is the Arena, Stryke.” Said Rasta softly. “ These monks can slice time. You need to defeat them. With nothing but the combat methods you know.”
Stryke nodded, and walked into the chalked area. The monks bowed. Stryke didn’t move. They bowed again, uncertain. Then Stryke struck, moving between them, spinning to pick up a stick from the ground. He swept the legs out from under one, then kicked out, relying on the momentum of his spin the knock the other off his feet. He span the stick round, landing a blow the head of one, poleaxing him. Then the other slammed a fist into the torso of Stryke, sending him backwards towards the cliff. A flurry of blows sent Stryke reeling. He spun the wood round again, but the monk ducked. This gave Stryke enough time to land a stinging uppercut, followed by a brutal head-butt. He was breathing deeply, but turned to face Rasta.
“ I tire of your little games, Master.”
“ You used a weapon.” Said Rasta blankly.
“ A WLT monk is always adaptable, right?” said Stryke, cynically.
Rasta nodded, and laughed. Stryke laughed as well, then Rasta had covered the gap between them. A single blow sent Stryke over the cliff top, and plunging towards the raging sea below. Stryke gasped in terror, hands scrabbling at the side. A sharp rock sliced through his skin, leaving flecks of blood on the rock. The bittersweet smell of seaweed filled his nostrils. He shouted in agony as his arm hooked onto a small tree. The pain jolted through his collarbone. He hung there, gazing down at the churning white water below. Above, Rasta looked down.
“ You never disobey me. While you are here, I am the Master, and you will do what I say.”
Then he turned and strode away.
“ WAIT!” yelled Stryke. “ What am I supposed to do? Climb this by myself?”
His cries were answered by silence.
**
Rasta was standing in the Iron Dojo as Stryke staggered in, clothes ripped. Before he could say anything, Rasta turned.
“ This is the Iron Dojo. It is designed to test your ability to slice time.”
” But I don’t KNOW how to slice time.”
“ No one does.” Intoned Rasta, and was out of the dojo in a flash. Stryke clenched his fists together. The door clicked shut and Stryke was left alone in the semi light. He could see faint stains that he hoped weren’t blood. Suddenly little hatches opened all over the dojo. A huge blow caught him behind the head and he toppled over. He groaned, and picked up what had hit him. A metal ball. He flipped to his feet. The another came, swift as lightning, slamming into his calf. He staggered backwards, and another took the leg out, placing him neatly on his back. He rose again, fiery determination in his eyes. Then he swept to one side, almost dodging one ball, but it carved a gouge in his arm. He bit his lip and clenched his other hand to the wound.
“ You must FEEL where the objects will come from. Extend your mind. Otherwise, you will die.”
Rasta’s emotionless tones rang through the dojo. Stryke gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He tried to form a picture of the room in his mind. He tried to extend his senses outwards…
There. He felt a glimmer from one hole. A milli-second later, an iron ball shot out. Stryke flipped to the side, and something happened. The world faded in colour, briefly, to a shade of blue. It slowed, and he flipped twice more. When he stopped, the ball had just passed the spot where he had been. The other side of the room. He glanced around wildly, and behind the walls, Rasta smiled. Stryke breathed in again. This time he knew he could do it. Five balls shot out in tandem from the walls. Stryke ran forward, the world fading to blue around him. He rolled over one that was moving at a snail’s pace, and kicked another from the air, sending it deep into the wall. He flipped backwards, avoiding the spikes of the last three, and finished facing the door. Rasta opened in immediately. He was smiling broadly.
“ You are ready.”
“ For what?”
“ Your final test.”
Rasta turned and walked smartly away, heading for an ominous building.
“ Welcome, to the Masters Dojo.”
**
Rasta span, flipping a staff of wood into his hand from a rack. He pointed it at Stryke.
“ Choose your weapon.”
Stryke gulped, looking at the fearsome array of swords, axes and daggers behind him. He reached for a broadsword, then remembered something. He smiled, and picked up a thin, steel blade, etched with runes. He spun it a few times, nodded, and sheathed it. Then he turned to Rasta.
“ I will not fight you Master.”
Rasta tilted his head to on side, smiling slightly.
“ You will.”
Then he leapt, staff twisting in his hands, arching down for a blow to Stryke’s head. He whipped out the sword, slicing time with ease, blowing the blow. They battled across the room, leaping away from the spikes that covered the wall. Rasta locked up Stryke’s sword, then backhanded him across the room. Stryke turned the fall into a roll, and was up just in time to block a blow that would have caved his windpipe in. He spun his legs around, supporting his body on one arm, and took the legs out from under Rasta. He ran, slicing time thinner and thinner, forcing Rasta backwards. The Abbot balanced on one foot, arching the staff up to block a blow… that wasn’t there. Stryke executed a sweep, brought Rasta to his knees, spun, kicked the staff away, and pointed the sword at Rasta.
“ You are defeated, Master.” Said Stryke, blood dripping down his face. Rasta sighed.
“ It is said when a master cannot beat the apprentice, he is no longer the master. However..”
Rasta reached up and gripped on the sword blade. He tugged it towards him, forcibly pulling Stryke down to his level.
“ I am not the Master for nothing.”
He moved quicker than Stryke could see. Stryke ran, slicing time is desperation. But Rasta was too quick. Then a lightning fast flurry of blows hit him, paralysing his legs and arms. He flopped to the ground. Rasta appeared, on the other side of the dojo.
“ How did you..” began Stryke.
Rasta walked up, and showed his hands. They were uncut. He wasn’t even breathing heavily.
“ You lulled me into a false sense of security.” Groaned Stryke.
“ I let you believe you could beat me, therefore you beat me.” Rasta said, simply. Stryke groaned again. Rasta hit a few places on the soldier’s arms and legs, and Stryke was free. He stood up.
“ I guess my training must continue then Master.” He sighed.
“ Why? You are ready. You must go. Now. Time is running out.” Rasta turned and faced towards the window, brow furrowed. Stryke opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, sheathed the sword and ran from the room. Rasta crossed his legs, and mediated. When he was sure Stryke was gone, he held out his hands, grabbed a bandage from a cabinet, and looked at his palms. He nodded. They erupted with blood, along the lines where he had gripped the sword. He grimaced, and quickly tied the bandages over them. He bowed his head.
“ We have control over time. We cannot stop it.” He whispered, softly.
**
Reaper beckoned to the shadowy figure in front of him.
“ Whooo may not suceeed. I need you to do this for me. You can kill Stryke.”
“ I’ve had five years of training for it.” The figure snapped. The figure advanced towards the light. Insomnia gulped as a hardened face emerged. He gripped hard on his armrest.
“ Who is it?” whispered Grix.
“ It’s the end of us. Stryke’s death. Vottanator.”
Vottanator twisted his neck to and fro, revealing hideous scarring down one side of his face. He licked his lips, the chance to kill Stryke burning in his mind.
“ That Stryke has made some powerful enemies.” Whispered Grix.
“ Tell me about it. If I was that boy, I’d pray I got killed before either of those monsters reaches him.” Grunted Insomnia, sorrowfully.
**
Stryke drove the jeep purposefully, heading for a region of the Archive no-one really remembered any more. The realm of the Seven Towers. He didn’t know what he’d find there, only that Grix reckoned it was important. He hammered his fist on the side of the jeep, pictures of Whooo’s victory over him still bright in his mind. He wouldn’t let it stand. He squinted into the distance. Seven pillars of rock, outlining an ancient amphi-theatre were on the horizon. All the world is but a stage… mused Stryke as he floored the accelerator.
**
Stryke paced through the huge arch, out onto the sand. Emptiness. Echoes danced around the seven Towers as his feet crunched the ancient grains. He looked around, blade gripped lightly in one hand.
“ Welcome to our stage.” A voice flitted across the space. Stryke spun, handgun raised.
“ Why do you come to us?” another voice, deep and threatening. Stryke whirled round, his sword clenched tight. Then a figure stepped out from behind a pillar.
“ Once upon a time, there were 40,000 regulars here, cheering every movement of your sword.” He whispered, the theatre resounding the tones round the soldier.
“ Now, the winds of time howl only to the sand.” This time the voice came from behind him. He turned quickly. Nothing. He turned back. Two figures were in front of him, swarthed in black cloths. Stryke backed off, sword pointed at one, gun pointed at the other.
“ Oh, put it away Stryke. It’s insulting to think I haven’t anticipated your every move.” One said, grinning. Stryke nodded, slowly, lowering his weapons.
” Who are you?”
One chortled.
“ One of Nine.” It said. “ The only one left from a proud unit.” It unwrapped it’s bandages. Stryke grunted.
“ Sniper. Thought you were dead.”
“ So does everyone.” Sniper intoned. Stryke nodded at the other.
“ He is the desert spirit itself. He came for me, when I was lying on the battlefield. He is mischief personified. Meet Loki.”
Loki bowed, uttering no sound.
“ Why have you come to us?” asked Sniper, unmoving.
“ Grix told me.. Seven Towers.”
Loki turned to Sniper, and nodded. Sniper grunted, but turned and ran to the far side of the theatre, grabbing a long box that lay there. He sprinted back, holding it out before him. Loki snapped the lid open, withdrawing a long, thin sword of silver.
“ You have there one of the Time Swords. That Rasta let you have it is no accident. This is the other. They were meant for someone to wield. I hope that it you.” Said Loki, in a deep, fiery voice.
Stryke withdrew his sword, and grasped the hilt of the other, his mouth wide in wonder. Then he spun them around and sheathed them on his back. He turned to thank Loki, but the mysterious stranger erupted in a shower of sand. Stryke held a hand over his mouth, choking, then Sniper was before him.
“ You could come back with me, Sniper.” Stryke offered, knowing the answer.
“ I cannot. My place is here. I am cannot leave.” He leant forward, smiling. “ Both swords are not meant for you. You will know.”
Then he vanished, not in a cloud of sand, but with the guile of a trained warrior. Stryke shook his head sadly. The Notables were truly gone. He turned and trudged back to the jeep. Now for Iguana. She had to be out there.
**
The fire blazed. Stryke threw more wood onto it, rubbing his hands together. He was at the edge of the Chatlands, about to cross over into the Wilderness. He looked into the shadows, grimacing. He stood up, intending to grab some more firewood. Then something rose out of the woodpile, fist arching out. Stryke reeled backwards, eyes questing for what had hit him. A figure twirled nunchaku around in his hands. He thrust his face into the firelight.
“ Remember me?” he snarled.
Stryke open his mouth and screamed. The figure from his nightmares had appeared. He scrabbled backwards, panting in fear.
“ My God! Vottanator!”
“ It wasn’t God who gave me this face, Stryke. It was you, throwing me from that tower.”
Stryke gasped for air, but his hatred of Vottanator was still there.
“ You expect me to feel sorry for you?” he growled.
“ No Stryke, I expected you to die for me!”
“ But…but… I killed you!”
“ You’d be amazed how much punishment the body can sustain. Oh, I survived Stryke. I have been training for this moment.”
Then Stryke shoved himself up from the ground, swords flashing out of their sheathes. He sliced time as he ran, whirling the blades round.
“ You will die. And this time, I will not miss!” he yelled. Vottenator just stood there, an amused look on his face. Then he turned, whirling one nuchuck round the hilt of Stryke’s sword. He tugged, sending it clattering to the ground. The other snapped closed round Stryke’s leg, causing him to shout in pain as the chains dug into his leg. He slammed back down, head near the fire. Vottanator leapt forward grabbing Stryke’s face, forcing it down towards the fire.
“ Everytime you look in the mirror, you will see MY face!” roared Vottanator, blood pounding behind his eyes. He felt righteous, vengeful. Stryke felt the heat on his cheek, felt his flesh begin to char. Then an outraged roar came from the darkness, and Whooo materialised, moving faster than ever, crashing into Vottanator.
“ HE IS MINE TO KILL!” yelled Whooo in outrage. He ploughed onwards. Stryke gasped and rolled sideways. He scrabbled around for his sword, but a foot crunched down on his palm. He yelped in pain, and looked up. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood there, sword clutched in his hand. Stryke grinned.
“ Lexus! Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Said Stryke, thankfully. Lexus didn’t smile.
“ I didn’t think I’d ever have to see you again. Let’s move. She wants to see you.”
Stryke knew who she was. Lexus was second in command of the Avengers. He would take him to Iguana. Lexus then hit Stryke hard on the back of the head, shoved him into a waiting jeep, and screeched off. Vottanator and Whooo still fought each other in the increasing darkness.
**
Vottanator howled in rage. He picked up Whooo and threw him into the fire. Whooo screamed in pain and leapt out.
“ WE ARE BOTH WORKING FOR REAPER!” Vottanator yelled, Uzi pointed straight at the Banned One. Whooo fell silent, head hung low.
“ Thanks to YOU, he got away.” Grunted Vottanator. “ Come on. Next time, we will kill him. Together.” He swung his nunchuka onto his back and strode off into the darkness, Whooo running to catch up.
**
Lexus was silent as the jeep pounded through the Wilderness, crunching over skulls and breaking down rotting trees. Stryke cleaned his sword, tended his wounds, then tried to speak to Lexus.
“ How did you..” he began.
“ She has her sources.” Replied Lexus curtly.
“ Oh. Why does she..” tried Stryke again.
“ Revenge.” Lexus said, a smile curling his lip. At this Stryke fell silent.
“ I’m a prisoner, aren’t I?” he questioned.
“ Certainly. Sentenced to death, I’d imagine.” Lexus said. Then he turned towards Stryke, anger visible in his eyes. “ You left us. You, who was scarred by a Banned One and had your closest friend murdered by Reaper.”
“ It was over Lexus. Think about why you joined. I was there, remember, fighting with you, at the battle?”
Lexus stared ahead into the wilderness, eyes hard…
**
Five years ago…
Lexus clashed his sword with a newbie, yelling his fury, then spun his axe round to cleave it in half. He turned, his brother Cooky and his friend Torax back to back with him. They worked smoothly, cleaving away at the mass of newbies. Then Lexus hesitated, glaring across at a clear area of the battlefield, and saw a friend of his on the ground, with a Banned One over him.
“ STRYKE!” yelled Lexus. He ran into the mob, sword and axe flying, cutting down newbies. Cooky and Torax ran with him, defending the running veteran. Lexus was hit down, his view obscured. Then he heard a piercing scream. He bit his lip and heaved himself to his feet. Whooo was being pulled back, blood pouring from a shoulder wound. Lexus cheered, and yelled his approval at Stryke, who heard, and turned, grinning. He face froze, he yelled something, and began to run towards Lexus. The soldier turned swiftly. Cooky was walking towards him, smiling. Then Torax rose from the ground, throwing axe positioned in his hand. Lexus’s eyes hardened, and he began to run, shouting warnings to Cooky. He turned to Torax, but the axe had left the traitor’s hand. It churned into Cooky, cleaving his heart. He fell backwards, and Lexus skidded to a halt, catching him. Cooky’s eyes rolled, his breathing was ragged.
“ No..” whispered Lexus softly. Cooky, smiled weakly, but with warmth. Then his eyes closed, and he sighed softly. Lexus laid the body down carefully, wiping away the tears welling in his eyes. Stryke ran up.
“ Damn.” Said the soldier, teeth gritted. Lexus leapt to his feet.
“ TORAX!!!” he screamed, but the newbie’s ranks had closed around the betrayer, shielding him. Lexus began to run forward, but Stryke grabbed him.
“ Lexus, no! It’s too dangerous. They’ll be another time. You hear me? They’ll be ANOTHER TIME!”
Lexus struggled wildly, not heeding the words. He shouted like a wild thing. Stryke shook his head, then landed a massive punch to Lexus’s jaw. He collapsed.
**
Lexus clenched his fists as he drove.
“ Torax is still out there, Stryke. You swore you’d help me find him. Just like you promised Iguana you’d help find Reaper. You let us all down, man. And I trusted you. We all trusted you.”
Lexus swivelled back to the road, eyes tight.
“ We’ll be there soon. Get ready.”
“ For what?”
Lexus grinned, without humour. “ The last fight of your life, army man.”
**
The jeep skidded to a halt in the middle of a camp. Skulls hung from wooden posts, and dark shapes moved in the gloom, always watching. It was almost dawn now, and thin rays of light were illuminating the camp. One such ray landed on the face of Iguana, and she walked slowly up to Stryke. She pulled a nail down his cheek, leaving a thin streak of blood. She laughed.
“ The mighty Major Stryke, Protector of all Digiveridia. Why did you return to the FOG?”
Stryke stared right into her eyes. “ It was the job we were chosen for.”
Iguana laughed again, pacing up and down.
“ I wonder, have you lost your touch? Become weak in the FOG?” She clapped once, and both her and Lexus ran into the tents, sealing them. Stryke reached up and withdrew one sword, taking up a combat stance. He looked around the camp, breathing slowly and calmly. He was ready. Then two newbies charged at him from the nearest tent. He leapt, slicing time slowly, swinging his sword round. He cleaved through one’s neck, sending the head rolling. He landed, and parried a blow from the club the other one wielded. He jumped, letting a clumsy blow pass harmlessly under his feet. He felt anger surge through him. How dare Iguana do this to him? He dropped the sword, and ran swiftly behind the newbie, grabbed its neck, and twisted. The sharp click resounded around the camp, and Stryke let the corpse fall. He flipped over, picking his sword up and pointed it at Iguana’s tent. She emerged, carrying a sword.
“ Let’s do this.” She said, softly. Stryke grinned and ran at Iguana, leaping high, sword held out. They clashed, sending sparks flying. Avengers ran through the camp, yelling at each other.
“ Stryke’s back! Iguana’s fighting him!” They leapt from guard posts, erupted from sleep, and crowded round in a circle as they fought.
The swords went faster and faster, clashing high, low, side to side as each sought for an opening. Then it happened. Stryke send Iguana’s sword flying and her backwards. She grinned.
“ I told you once you can never defeat me. Let’s see what you can do hand to hand.”
Before Stryke could speak, she had blurred, kicking his sword away and landing a boot in his stomach. The Avengers were silent. Some still harboured loyalty to Stryke. He ran and flipped backwards, narrowly avoiding a cutting blow from Iguana. He stopped, and raised his hands in a pose taught to him by Rasta. Iguana nodded her head in approval, then sliced time to enagage. Stryke did the same, parrying her blows, landing his own. They fought back and to, then Iguana gained an opening. He feigned a high blow, then jabbed at the weak knee-joint. Stryke staggered slightly, and that gave her the opening. She placed the kick perfectly, throwing Stryke’s body out of the camp and into the Wilderness. Lexus grinned. She was killing him. Stryke skidded along the ground, slamming into a rock. He groaned, coughing up blood. Iguana began to walk to his sword, when Stryke rose slowly to his feet. He extended a hand outwards, and beckoned to Iguana. She sighed, walking back towards him.
“ You should have walked when you felt the heat around the corner, Stryke.” A voice hissed from behind the rock. Stryke leapt backwards, drawing the sword Loki had given him. He ran backwards towards Iguana, flipping it to her.
“ Later, Iguana. This is now.”
She nodded, and ran back towards the camp. The Avengers were already arming up, as a band of newbies ran over the hill, led by Whooo. Vottanator leapt out from behind the rock, but didn’t attack, he just stood there, aloof. Stryke grabbed his sword, whirled around, and took up position next to Lexus.
“ Just like old times, eh?” grinned Stryke, encouragingly. Lexus allowed himself a slight smile, then he focused on the battle. The newbies hit, forcing the Avengers deep into the camp. Stryke fell backwards, turning the fall into a throw, and sent a newbie onto a sharp wooden spike. He turned, cleaving off the legs of another. He slammed his hilt into one, doubling it up. He thrust his sword deep into its eye, then turned. Lexus was being forced backwards. Five newbies encircled him. Stryke yelled, and launched himself into the attack, cutting down one before they even saw him coming. He fought his way through, but Lexus was on the ground, newbie plunging an axe towards his skull. Stryke threw his sword overarm, scything through the newbie at the midriff. He smiled encouragingly at Lexus, who managed to swing his sword round to kill another newbie, and then smile back. Stryke turned back to the battle, but two newbies bulled into him, shoving him into the back areas of the camp. He struggled, and they dumped him in a deserted area. Stryke quickly cut them in half, but a voice came from the darkness.
“ Vottanator won’t come in here. The Newbies detect a regular by the smell. They’d attack him. Which means…”
Whooo walked out, holding a mace in each of his four arms.
“ I’ve got you all to myself.” Grimaced Stryke. He rose the sword to defence position. Whooo clashed his maces together, and threw one. Stryke dodged it by slicing, and then the attack was joined…
**
Stryke dodged the vicious blow, and vaulted over Whooo’s head. Whooo flipped his three remaining maces over and over, swinging two swiftly towards Stryke, who brought his sword up swiftly, countering one, and deflecting another. Then Whooo slammed a knee up and into the back of Stryke, sending him crashing to the sand. Stryke’s eyes widened as Whooo slammed a mace towards his skull. He shoved upwards with both feet and arms, and he turned the force into a spin that carried him inches clear of the mace head. He steadied himself, and the fight was joined. They clashed over and over, the force of the mace countered by the speed of the sword. Then Whooo struck out with a foot, making Stryke’s ankle buckle. He grunted, and turned the fall into a roll. He leapt up, and was quickly on the offensive. He sliced through the handle of one mace, splintering the end into Whooo’s hand. The Banned One screamed in pain, and lashed out with another mace. Stryke couldn’t move quick enough. The heavy metal thudded into his side, splashing blood outwards. He groaned in pain, and sagged backwards, one hand clutched to his side. He felt the cloth of his shirt turning damp and warm. The blood was flowing too freely. He cast his eyes about, searching for an answer. There – a burning tent support. He limped over to it, eyes screwed up in pain. Then he thrust his sword into the fire, watching worriedly as Whooo picked splinters from his hand. Stryke turned back to the sword, and Whooo charged. The sword was glowing red, and he whipped it from the fire and pressed it hard against the wound. He screamed in pain as the hot metal cauterised the wound. The harsh smell of scorched flesh reached his nostrils, and then Whooo leapt, his two maces raised for the strike. Then Stryke span, slicing time thin, egged on by the pain. He sliced round with the burning sword, slitting the edge through Whooo’s stomach.
“ For Turbo!” yelled Stryke, and brought the sword round again, gashing a deep score across Whooo’s torso.
“ For Tony!” he yelled again, and lashed out diagonally with the sword, opening Whooo’s throat where Stryke had been scarred.
“ For me.” He whispered, and looked on as Whooo, trembling, raised his hands to his throat. Blood was bubbling out with increasing speed. He looked up imploringly at Stryke, his eyes wide. Stryke, for the first time, felt sorry for the pitiful being before him. He span, eyes set, and marched away, as Whooo’s corpse collapsed forward into the sand, a slow pool of russet spreading.
**
Iguana looked sorrowfully around at her camp when Stryke approached. Lexus stood by her, weeping.
“ This is all? The Avengers? All dead?” asked Stryke, incredulously.
Iguana nodded, slowly. Lexus pounded the earth with his fist. Stryke wiped his blade clean and sheathed it.
“ Now do you believe me?” asked Stryke, facing Iguana. She said nothing, but nodded slowly.
“ Then lets go.” Said Lexus, axe in his hand. He leapt into a jeep, and started it. The other two followed, and Iguana let out a sob as they screeched out of the camp riddled with bodies.
**
It was early evening, and the three were camped on the outskirts of Prime. Everyone was arming themselves. Stryke had two swords on his back, and another two at waist holsters. He checked the load and bullets of two machine guns, then rested them on the table. Lexus sat opposite him, a ring of throwing knifes belted around his waist.
“ Torax is there?” asked Lexus. Stryke nodded, still sighting along the barrel. He saw Iguana sitting on a rock, alone, staring at the distant Council citadel. Stryke whipped his fifth sword into a centre sheath, and walked over to Iguana. He leant against a rock, staring at the last rays of sunlight curving around the citadel.
“ You loved him.” Stryke muttered, holstering a pistol. Iguana shifted slowly to face him.
“ Why do we battle to save FOG Stryke? What makes it different from the Wilderness, or the fabled lands of EB?”
“ I have seen much of the rest of the world. It is dark and cold. FOG is the light!”
Iguana shifted again, facing the sunset.
“ Have you ever loved?” she asked, softly. Stryke slid down the rock.
“ There was one, a long time ago. Back home, before I joined the army. She was my world.”
“ What happened to her?”
**
Eight years ago…
Stryke smiled happily at the girl sat next to him. They leant against the massive oak tree on the edge of the field. The sun was high and bright, and they had sat there for hours, saying little, doing nothing. The leaves cast a dappled pattern over his face, and he knew this day would live forever in his memory, and the warmth he felt was nothing to do with the sunlight. He turned to her, mouth opening to ask the question, when an unholy roar erupted from the bushes. Stryke leapt to his feet as tattooed behemoths sprang up, primitive weapons brandished.
” [name], stay with me.” Yelled Stryke. “ They’re Newbies. Whatever comes at us, we will have a better chance if we stay together.”
But she was hysterical and ripped herself from his grasp, running towards the town. Stryke yelled in fear, but she ran on. Time seemed to slow, and Stryke skidded to a halt as the first spear thudded into her body. He ran up to her as another spear went through her ribs. She looked up at him, warmth in her eyes, and she reached up to touch his face gently.
” Go.” She whispered softly.
He held her close as the newbies came closer, then he sprang away and pelted for the woods, spears hitting the ground on either side of him.
**
He clenched his fists tight.
“ She was taken from you.”
Stryke nodded, and hit the rock, teeth gritted.
“ That is how I feel, every single day.” Said Iguana, her face set. “ He was taken from me, and I loved him!”
She turned away, facing towards the sunset.
**
The three crept slowly around the edges of the council hall, eyes tracking the many JATs lining the hall.
“ I’d estimate 30.” Said Stryke, back against the seat. Iguana nodded, and Lexus pointed.
“ There. Leading Reaper’s Guard. Torax.”
“ Now is not the time.” Said Stryke. “ Ready, Iguana?”
She nodded. They clasped hands.
“ Strength and honour.”
Then Iguana and Lexus rolled to the sides, whipping their guns up, shooting a wild burst over the heads of the trapped councillors. Stryke burst out from behind the seats, arms crossed over, machines guns roaring. Ranks of JATs fell, riddled with bullets. Stryke dropped the empty guns and flipped over to where Insomnia and Grix were bound. He rolled across, lashing out with a dagger. Their bindings fell, and Stryke whipped out his back mounted swords.
“ Here. Strength and honour.”
Then he rolled behind a seat and brought another gun into firing position. Iguana leapt out, two pistols held steady. A flurry of shots took down all but three of Reaper’s guard. Lexus charged forward. Torax grinned, an ugly smile. He waved at the two other guards, who grabbed Reaper and leapt behind a marble seat. Then Torax shed his jacket, drew an axe, and strode forward the meet Lexus. Stryke ran along the edge of the first floor and flipped down to the ground. A side door swung open, and Vottanator strode forward, flanked by a fresh squad of Newbies. Stryke gulped as they raised their guns, and he sprinted for the small window out onto the balcony. He dived forward as bullets churned up the marble, and he smashed through the pane. He rolled with the impact and leapt behind a pillar, twin pistols drawn. Vottanator kicked the door open, 6 newbies backing him. Stryke spun round from one pillar to the next, guns blazing. 4 newbies fell to the ground. Then two swords spun through the air, splicing into the newbies. Vottanator withdrew his nunchucks, grinning.
“ We are both professionals. This is personal.” He shouted, the sound echoing around the pillared room. Stryke stepped out, sword clutched double-handed. Vottanator grinned again, and charged.
**
As Lexus and Torax battled out of the room, Iguana was left in the silent hall. Grix and Insomnia looked to her, swords clutched. She beckoned to each side, sending them round the seat where Reaper hid. Then she showered the marble with bullets, decimating the chair. Then the hall fell silent again, for a moment. Two JATs erupted from behind the seat, angling for the two councillors. And Reaper sprang up, unarmed. He grinned at Iguana.
“ You should have heard your love squeal, as I cleaved his skull!” howled Reaper, his arms wide. Then Iguana spun her sword free from its sheath and vaulted down to the floor. She took up combat position, sword held out to the side.
“ You don’t want to die today, Reaper.” She growled.
“ You forget, I’m already dead!” he yelled in response.
“ Not dead enough for me.” Muttered Iguana, and then Reaper charged. No war-cry, just a simple blindingly fast movement, and he had kicked the sword from her hand. Another blow had sent her sprawling. Reaper walked forward, slowly.
**
Lexus slammed his foot into Torax’s leg. He swung the axe round, but Torax was too quick. In a shower of sparks he send the blow slamming into the wood frame of a door. Lexus tugged at it, but it was stuck tight. Torax smiled thinly, and swung his axe round, ready to make the blow. Quick as lightning, Lexus barrelled forward, slamming his shoulder into Torax’s stomach. The newbie doubled over, and his axe slipped from his hand. Lexus charged forward, and the pair went flying over a balcony and crashed into a deep pool. Torax spluttered for breath and shoved Lexus away, making for the bank. Lexus smiled in triumph. He pulled a throwing knife from his belt, sighting carefully. Then he threw, opening a deep wound in Torax’s back. Before the dying newbie could fall, Lexus was on him, pounding his fist over and over again into the face of his nemesis. The newbie died swiftly, but Lexus carried on punching, five years of hatred aimed directly at one fragile body.
**
Vottanator jumped as he ran, the nunchucks leaving his hands, spinning towards Stryke, who was forced to drop to the floor to avoid them, sheathing his sword. Then Vottanator swung a heavy boot, flipping Stryke over. He kicked again, the force throwing the soldier to his feet. He launched a punishing blow that sent Stryke skidding backwards across the marble. Vottanator laughed, a sadistic laugh.
“ You won’t leave this place. You will have to fight me to leave.”
Stryke raised his head shakily. “You would fight me?”
Vottanator snarled. “ You think I am afraid?”
“I think you have been afraid all of your life.”
Vottanator roared in outrage, and charged. But the brief distraction had been enough. Stryke swung his legs around, scoring two blows. He used the momentum to get back to his feet, and land a stinging uppercut that sent the mercenary into a pillar.
“ The Avengers are bloodied and cleaved. I will not believe they died for nothing! I’ll kill you for that!” Roared Stryke, pounding away.
Vottanator blocked a blow and used the force to shove Stryke backwards. He landed a roundhouse kick that sent the soldier reeling, and then dropkicked him square in the chest. Stryke gasped at the impact, and then gaped as Vottanator rolled and leapt from the three storey high room. He rushed to the edge and looked down. The mercenary was running into a ground floor opening to a tower.
“ Been there, done that.” Muttered Stryke, and raced across the ledge to the third floor opening. He jogged up to the top, to wait for his adversary. But as he emerged, Vottanator swung down from his perch atop the doorframe and kicked Stryke firmly in the back, sending him sprawling, but the veteran was too quick and leapt to his feet in time to a parry a sharp blow.
“ Have you ever felt a pain so powerful, so heavy you collapse?” asked Vottanator, as they locked arms.
“ Every day of my life.” Retorted Stryke, as he struggled to be free.
“ Then you know how much I need to kill you. I live only to kill you.”
“ What’s the point in living if you can’t feel alive, you scum?” yelled Stryke, and thrust his head forward, sending Vottanator backwards. Then he reached up and drew his sword, pointing it straight at Vottanator. The mercenary chortled, blood dripping down his forehead.
“ End of the line.” Snarled Stryke.
“ A man tires of being executed.” Vottanator grunted, hand pressed to his head. A silence fell upon them, deafening him.
Vottanator laughed. “ The silence before you strike?”
Stryke laughed as well, and then Vottanator launched himself forwards. Stryke whipped the sword round and through Vottenator. The mercenary looked up at Stryke, his eyes full of questions.
“ I….”
He slumped forward, and his head tumbled slowly across the platform. Stryke squatted onto his haunches, fatigue washing over him.
“ The silence before you strike?”
He stood, wiping his blade clean. He let the silence wash over him, cleansing him. Then he dashed down the tower, aiming for the sounds echoing from the main chamber.
**
Iguana got up shakily. Reaper stood over her.
“ We are but shadows and dust, Iguana, shadows and dust.”
He grabbed her and lifted her high, slamming her body against the wall.
“ At last I reveal myself to you. At last I have my revenge.” He reached and stroked her cheek softly. Then he span and hurled her forcibly into the marble. He laughed as she slid down the smooth stone, leaving a thin smear of blood.
“ You’re finished Reaper. Your army is scattered.” She groaned, still slumped at the bottom of the chair.
“ Let my men see me alive and you shall see where their loyalties lie.” He retorted, swinging a sword casually from hand to hand.
Iguana groaned again. Her vision was going hazy. She focused, willing her mind to help.
**
Rasta’s eyes snapped open. He leapt from his mediation and out the door, slicing time thinner and thinner.
She needed him.
**
Reaper pointed a finger at Iguana, anger suddenly rising within him. Then the door smashed open and lexus and Stryke ran into the room, skidding to a halt at the sign of Reaper standing with a sword in his hand. Reaper grinned, showing long fangs. Lexus attacked first, his axe moving swiftly. Reaper hardly moved, but the axe embedded itself in Lexus’s neck, and the Avenger toppled forward. Iguana sobbed softly into her hand as the corpse dripped blood down into a bullet-hole. Reaper leapt forward, beckoning to Stryke, the sword now in his hand. Stryke grimaced. He knew he was going to die. Iguana raised a hand, trying to stop him. Then Stryke attacked, sword blurring.
Reaper countered every attack calmly, not even breaking a sweat. With one flick he disarmed Stryke, but the soldier executed a smooth flip and kicked Reapers sword away. Iguana looked suddenly at Stryke’s sword as it skidded to a halt near her hand. Reaper inclined his head slightly in admiration. Then Insomnia and Grix leapt out from behind a chunk of marble, swords raised. Reaper flipped round, causing the swords to appear in his hands. He swung idly, beheading the former notable and the veteran councillor. Stryke cursed, blood soaking his hair. He punched at Reaper, slicing time to meet with the newbie leader, ever more desperate, as Reaper calmly flicked away incoming blows.
Then Reaper moved faster, and he had one arm locking Stryke’s arms behind his back, and another tight under his chin. Stryke grimaced, his vertebrae clicking slowly.
“ You hear that, Mr Stryke? That is the sound of your impending doom. The future is our place, it is my time.”
Stryke gargled, blood rising in his throat.
“ Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.” He laughed slowly, fate accepted.
Reaper smiled broadly, then bent down and whispered in Stryke’s ear.
“ You are beneath me.”
He thrust upwards. Stryke’s neck cracked out loud, and Reaper stepped backwards, a look of disgust on his face. He let go, and the body crumpled to the ground. Iguana yelled and rose both swords. Reaper rolled over, picking up his own sword and facing Iguana. Sparks flew to the ground and over the four corpses as they battled, Reaper grinning all the line. He locked swords and leant close to Iguana, smiling into her eyes. Then she threw him backwards, but he was too quick. He thrust his sword though her hand and yelled out, dropping the sword. She brought the other one across, but a kick disposed of that. He twisted the sword, forcing her backwards. She spluttered, hand scrabbling behind her.
“ You are going to die, Iguana.” He whispered.
She grinned. “ I once knew a man who said death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.”
“ So you will smile merrily as a carve your heart from your chest.”
She shook her head. “ I’m not a man.” She brought her hand around from behind her, pistol clutched in it. He didn’t say anything as the cold metal pressed against his forehead. Knowing what would happen, he whipped the sword out of her hand and towards her heart.
“ Dodge this.” She intoned, and sent a slug deep into Reaper’s brain, knowing it was too late. His sword cut through her chest, sending a spray of blood outwards. As Reaper’s corpse collapsed to the ground, and he looked up at her, blood frothing from the wound.
“ Shadows and du…”
She slumped backwards. The window exploded in shards of glass. Rasta plunged through. His face sank as he saw Iguana lying in a pool of her own blood. He rushed over, cradling her in his arms. She was barely moving.
“ You can see him.” He smiled, tears running down his cheeks. “ Go to him.”
Iguana smiled up, and then her eyes clouded and she sighed slowly.
**
Rasta stood alone on the outskirts of the WLT Abbey. He held the twin swords that Iguana and Stryke had carried. He thrust them into soft soil by the newest graves. He looked out, over the now safe FOG lands.
“ Now we are free. I will see you again, my friends.” He gathered his robes around him, and turned towards the Abbey, looking over the crops needing to be harvested.
“ But not yet. Not yet.”
allardini wrote:
> Sorry, i got bored quickly.
--
Cheers for that.
> Sorry, i got bored quickly.
--
Cheers for that.
Blimey Gaz and I thought some of my posts were long. I remember reading it ages ago and enjoyed it. I shall not read it again as by the time I am finished I will have a beard and I fear for being called beardy.
: )
: )
Sorry, i got bored quickly.
Heh Heh Heh.
And yes, I do realise it's got a load of film lines in it. Thats sort of the point. I'll explain later.
This was also posted in Archive ages ago, but no-one read it. So I'll post it here. Please give it a go, and don't just post saying "It's too long!". If it's too long, don't read it. Thanks.
--
NEWBIE MENACE II: REAPER STRIKES BACK
Five years have passed since the victory of the FOG against the Newbies, and the death of Turbo. Yesterday’s soldiers have become today’s politicians. The belief is that Reaper perished at the hands of RastaBillySkank. But the Abbot of WLT knows otherwise, and he has kept his monks on alert.
But the pain of loss and thirst for revenge was too much for some. Iguana, of the Order of WLT, had assembled a loose group of veterans too embittered against Reaper and the Banned Ones to forget what had happened.
And so she searches, throughout the Wilderness, returning only occasionally to the FOG, where is a legend among the ranks. But her group is losing solidarity. Five long years have taken their toll on the Avengers. Their numbers have dwindled, and Iguana forays deeper and deeper into the Wilderness.
The Council of FOG has had enough. They plan to send a recovery team to get Iguana, led by the veteran, and former Avenger, Major Stryke…
Tony rose, his robes folding around him.
“ This session of the FOG Council is open. Major Stryke, please rise.”
The offical bodyguard of the Digiveridia Councillor, Insomnia, rose swiftly to his feet. A long, white scar traced diagonally across his neck, and his eyes were deep and harrowed. He carried no weapons, for none were allowed in the Council Hall.
“ You, Major Stryke, are a former friend of the renegade known as Iguana.”
Stryke stiffened, slightly. His eyes focused, and his mind went back to a point, two years ago…
****
Iguana grabbed Stryke by the throat and forced him backwards.
“ IT IS NOT OVER!”
She stepped over the still cooling corpse of Dogfather, one of the three Banned Ones they hunted. Stryke gasped, his breath coming shallow and ragged. Iguana growled, and let go. She span and kicked him forcibly in the midriff. He staggered backwards, collapsing at the foot of a earth barrier.
“ You and I formed the Avengers, Stryke. You still hunt for the scum that killed your friend, and the One that gave you that scar…”
Stryke touched the scar he had been given by a Banned One – scum that still walked free. He staggered to his feet slowly.
“ No. It is over, Iguana. They cannot be found. They must be dead. We have killed the one we tracked for three years.”
He prodded the corpse with is boot. Iguana turned wild-eyed.
“ HE KILLED TURBO!” she yelled, manically.
“ Iguana, enough.”
He turned to leave, facing back towards the distant green of the Chatlands.
“ Turn around.”
Stryke paused, his breathing laboured.
“ I said, TURN AROUND!”
Stryke swivelled slowly, fists clenched. Then Iguana struck, feet flying, smashing Stryke’s nose. She leapt, kicking him flying backwards into a pile of bones. He coughed, sending blood onto his jacket. She grabbed him, and landed a blindingly quick series of punches to his torso. Another jab with a leg cut his feet out from under him. Stryke crashed to the ground, bloodied and beaten. She stood over him, grimacing.
“ Get lost. No-one can face a WLT monk in combat. You will never defeat me.”
Stryke stared, fear in his eyes. Then he turned, and ran.
Major Stryke gulped.
“ Yes, she was a friend.”
Tony looked curious, but didn’t ask.
“ Then I charge you with her recovery. Her misguided quest is pointless.”
Major Stryke jerked his head up towards Tony.
” I can’t defeat her. She is too quick. Too… powerful.”
He hung his head in shame. Then a loud bang rang out. The huge copper doors of the Hall were bending inwards.
“ What the?” said Insomnia, rising from his seat. Stryke snarled. Tony quickly tapped a few keys on his armrest.
“ Who is that? Where are the guards?”
In response a grating sound returned, gabbled.
“ That’s Spam!” exclaimed Stryke. “ The guards are dead. Newbies are out there!”
Tony gulped.
“ They mean to destroy us!”
Stryke chortled.
“ Of course they do. Now, you have a choice. Can you get someone out of here?”
Tony nodded.
“ Then send someone to the Abbey of WLT. RBS will help.”
Tony looked around the assembled councillors.
“ But who? We are all politicians. Rasta ceded from the Council after the Great War.”
Grix Thraves, former leader of the Notables, now Prime’s Councillor, rose.
“ Rasta will respect a soldier. I propose we send Major Stryke.”
Stryke strode forward.
“ No!” he yelled into the growing support. “ I stay by my councillor. His safety is my concern.”
Insomnia walked slowly to Stryke, and whispered in his ear. Stryke shook his head again. The copper doors bent inwards again. Handprints could be seen as the Newbies hammered on it.
“ You will all die!” shouted Stryke, desperately. Grix shook his head.
“ They need us. We are moderately safe. Stryke, we need Iguana. You must find her, and ask for her help. She…. Wasn’t wrong.”
Stryke looked up at Grix, fire burning in his eyes.
“ You mean?”
“ Stryke, you must go!” shouted the Web Councillor.
The soldier looked up at Insomnia. He nodded sedately. Then Grix strode over to a small tapestry. He wrenched it open, revealing a hatch. He quickly tapped a code in, causing the hatch to swing open. Stryke kicked open a box by its side, retrieving a gun. Grix stood by the door, and as Stryke passed, he ducked down to whisper something in his ear.
” The Seven Towers.”
Stryke looked questioningly at Grix, before the councillor saluted and shoved Stryke down the escape route. The route collapsed behind him, sealing off the possibility of chase. And their escape, grimaced Stryke. Then he was gone, running swiftly away from the Hall.
The door exploded inwards, sending shards of copper into the marble walls. The smoke hid the invaders, causing a moment of silence, as the councillors waited to see who came through.
Five bullets lanced through the space, thudding into Tony’s skull. The Council leader fell backwards, blood streaking from his wounds. Then a squad of JATs filed through the hole – The elite troops of the Wilderness. Then a figure walked through, scars laced down his cheeks. He strolled towards the Council, pistol clutched in one hand. He was banked by a tall, thin figure, hissing quietly. The JATs seized the Councillors, roughly binding them to their chairs. The scarred figure sat slowly in Tony’s chair. He pulled the barrel of his gun slowly across the marble rest, then sighed. He leaned forward, revealing to the Council his face. They drew back. A network of scars covered his face. Bright blue tattoos streaked across his shaven head, and the tips of fangs protruded from below his top lip. Grix dropped his head in resignation.
“ I am Reaper. I am back. You will die.” The figure said simply.
**
Stryke rolled out of the tunnel, expecting to be met by newbies. But nothing. The quiet landscape of FOG was undisturbed. Could it have been something other than Newbies? And if it was, why was there no invasion force?
Stryke forced his mind back to the mission. He had to get to the WLT Abbey. That meant transport. He was at the heart of Prime. The Abbey was near the borders, in the moors. Could he trust the army depots? He made a decision, and ran out onto the main road bordering the Hall. A distressed regular swerved to avoid him, then Stryke wrenched open the door, and threw the regular out onto the road. He crunched his foot down onto the accelerator, and churned up some mud into the face of the carless regular.
**
Stryke slumped in the chair Rasta indicated.
“ Rasta! The Council has..”
“ Been taken over by Reaper.” Rasta smiled at Stryke’s mystified expression. “ I have my sources. Listen, Stryke, this is no time for rushing. You have come to me to learn.”
“ No, I need help to find Igu…” Stryke began. Rasta held up his hands.
“ You will not defeat her without my training.”
Stryke opened his mouth to reply, then word’s that Iguana had said, years ago, came back to him.
‘ No one can face a WLT monk in combat. You will never defeat me’.
” You want to train me in the ways of WLT?”
Rasta smiled. “ Yes. Come with me.”
**
Rasta stood in the padded room.
“ This is the Novice Dojo. After you finish being a novice, you will proceed through the Djinns, One to Five. Then you become a Master. Like Iguana. Now, hit me.”
Stryke drew back. Then Rasta flew at him, blows coming from nowhere. Stryke landed face down, with Rasta pinning his arms.
“ A WLT Master can move through time faster than the ordinary person. We can post with speed. We fight by moving through time quicker than the rest of the world. And we NEVER hesitate.”
He backed off, allowing Stryke to rise to his feet, shakily.
“ Now, hit me.”
Stryke thrust a foot out, hoping to catch Rasta in the kneecap. Then the Abbot was behind him, throwing him forwards into the wall.
“ Anticipate the opponents moves. Feel, don’t think. Trust your instincts.”
Stryke growled. He was angry now. He flipped up onto his feet and span, arching a foot out at the space where Rasta’s head was. The Master just leant backwards, allowing the foot to brush past his face. He gestured towards Stryke, sending the solider backwards.
“ Never act in anger. A WLT monk is always calm. We are a religious order. Our methods of fighting are done for self-defence.”
Stryke stood up again, breathing heavily. Rasta hung his head.
“ Maybe I cannot teach you. Mediate here for the night.”
He slipped swiftly out of the dojo, leaving Stryke standing in the middle of the room. Stryke grimaced. He sat down, legs crossed, eyes closed. He WOULD bring Iguana back. He focused his mind.
Outside, Rasta grinned sedately. Stryke was the key he needed to bring back Iguana. She was the only hope now.
**
Reaper lounged in the High Council seat, idly throwing peanut shells onto the bloodied corpse of Tony. His sharp eyes caught something, and he sat upright. He rose swiftly, and padded over to the slightly opened hatch. He looked down the tunnel, seeing the distant splash of green. He howled in anger, then spun and hit Grix hard across the face. The former Notable leader fell backwards, but Reaper grabbed him and shoved his face up close.
“ Who?”
Grix remained resolutely silent.
“ Who? I won’t ask again.”
Grix was resolute. Reaper shook his head, and pulled his gun out.
“ Wait!” Insomnia rose. “ Grix, it will do no good to get yourself killed. It was Stryke.”
Reaper grinned. He beckoned to the tall, intimidating figure behind him.
“ You know this Stryke?”
The Banned One known as Whooo grinned evilly.
“ He is mine to kill.”
“ Then go.” Whispered Reaper.
Whooo howled his pleasure to the Hall. He threw himself forward, pelting through the tunnel. This was going to be fun.
**
Stryke stood alone in the courtyard.
“ Face your fears.” Rasta’s voice echoed around the courtyard. Stryke grimaced, and chewed on the herbs Rasta had given him. The world took on a hazy look. Rasta stepped out into the courtyard. Stryke yelled. Vottenator stood before him.
“ But I killed you!” he yelled, scrambling backwards.
” Face your fears.” Said Rasta again, advancing towards Stryke, who struggled to his feet, his eyes wide with fear. Through his eyes, Vottenator drew back a fist.
“Face your fears.” The voice came a third time. Stryke gulped, and shakily placed his feet in a combat pose. Vottenator struck, but Stryke brought his hands up into a block. Vottenator smiled, and twisted with the force, slamming a palm into the pressure point at the back of Stryke’s neck, who crumpled to the floor, groaning. The world swam back into focus. Rasta stood where Vottenator had been, looking at his nails.
“ How did I beat you?” he muttered.
Stryke felt a surge of anger. The monk had tricked him. He launched himself to his feet, and forwards the monk. Rasta flipped backwards, somehow landing a blinding flurry of blows to the back of Stryke’s legs. They suddenly went numb, and the soldier crumpled to the ground, gasping. Rasta bent down.
“ Your legs are stuck at the joints. I can fix it. But, I will not. Tomorrow, I will return. A WLT monk is adaptable. He does not act in anger. He has no fear.”
He straightened up and walked to the exit.
“ Remember, this will make you a better warrior. You will need to be. A storm is coming.”
**
Whooo crept soundlessly to the entrance of the Abbey, sniffing the air. His quarry was close. He felt the welt of skin at his shoulder – A lasting reminder of what Stryke had done to him. He tasted the air. He was close…
**
Stryke lay on his back in the courtyard, gazing up at the stars.
‘ A WLT Monk does not act in anger. He is adaptable. He has no fear. He moves faster through time. He does not hesitate’.
A quick movement from the side made him jerk his head around. A shadow was briefly visible in the moonlight between two pillars. He cursed. Something was here. He sat up, pounding his useless legs. This was trouble. The shadow was briefly visible again. A faint hiss reached his ears. Oh no..
“ I know you’re there!” Yelled Stryke, into the darkness.
“ How verrrrrry observant of you.” Hissed a vioce quietly in his ear. He spun around. Nothing. Then a blow landed behind his shoulder blades. He crashed forward, slamming into the cobbles of the courtyeard. An acrid smell met his nostrils, the smell of decay. A shadow rose behind him, tall, and Stryke felt an impact in his ribcage. He yelled in pain, and rolled to narrowly avoid the next blow.
“ Why so weak, rrrrrrrregular?” hissed the shadow. He punched downwards again, splitting Stryke’s lip. He thrust his face close to the bleeding soldier’s. Stryke snorted.
“ Whooo. Should have known that stink could only have come from you.”
Whooo screamed in anger and launched a blow that sent Stryke flying backwards against a pillar. Vertabrae crunched in protest, and Stryke fell to the cobbles again, pain lancing down his spine. Cold sweat dripped down his face. He was helpless in the face of a trained warrior. And he was going to die. Whooo hefted Stryke onto his shoulders and slammed him into a wall. Stryke’s cheek split and blood erupted outwards onto Whooo’s face. The Banned One licked at it, grimacing at the taste. He landed a stinging uppercut that sent Sryke groggily into a wall. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he slumped. The last sight he thought he’d ever see was a flash of white as Whooo advanced on him…
**
Stryke opened his eyes hazily. A figure clothed in white stood over him.
“ Am I dead?” he muttered slowly.
“ Far from it.” Whispered the figure. Stryke looked around. He was in a stone room. He blinked again, and the world focused. It was Rasta standing over him.
“ What happened?”
“ I arrived just in time. Two monks were found with their throats slit at the gate. I remembered how I had left you. I defeated Whooo, but the need for you to get to the san was too great. He… escaped.”
Stryke lay back, secretly pleased. Rasta had not killed him That meant Stryke could.
“ How soon can I get back to training.”
“ Not for a week, I’m afraid.” Said Rasta, apologetically.
Stryke nodded, and stood up.
“ Hey! Didn’t I just say…” yelled Rasta.
“ You did, Master. Then I remembered a WLT Monk is always adaptable.”
Rasta nodded in approval. The boy was learning.
“ Then let us begin. To the cliffs.”
**
Reaper slammed a fist into the face of Whooo, re-opening a wound given to him Rasta.
“ You were defeated?”
Whooo staggered backwards, hands raised.
“ Please, my Lord, we know where he is hiding. We can go in again!”
Reaper snarled, and strode one pace towards Whooo and slammed a gun barrel up against his forehead.
“ Idiot! Have I taught you nothing? The whole point of this plan is for NO ONE to know we have power! The WLT monks will be on the alert, seeing as you killed two of them. ON YOUR KNEES!”
Whooo bent down, shaking in fear.
“ Please master. I will wait… I can kill Stryke when he leaves the monastery. All is not lost…”
Reaper relaxed his grip on Whooo.
“ You have a point. We don’t as yet know what Stryke is trying to do.”
He nodded, and kicked Whooo backwards.
“ Get out my sight. Take a JAT with you. Send him back when Stryke leaves the Abbey. Don’t attack Stryke until you know what he is doing. Understand?”
Whooo nodded frantically, then turned and loped from the room. Reaper slammed his gun onto the armrest.
“ Come here JAT.” He beckoned at an emotionless figure, who stepped forward. Reaper unloaded his cartridge dispassionately into the newbie, relishing the spray of blood as the figure collapsed to the floor. Stryke wouldn’t get away. He would be brought before Reaper. And then, thought Reaper, licking his lips, he would break the scum’s spine.
**
Stryke and Rasta stood on the cliff. Two monks stood opposite them.
“ This is the Arena, Stryke.” Said Rasta softly. “ These monks can slice time. You need to defeat them. With nothing but the combat methods you know.”
Stryke nodded, and walked into the chalked area. The monks bowed. Stryke didn’t move. They bowed again, uncertain. Then Stryke struck, moving between them, spinning to pick up a stick from the ground. He swept the legs out from under one, then kicked out, relying on the momentum of his spin the knock the other off his feet. He span the stick round, landing a blow the head of one, poleaxing him. Then the other slammed a fist into the torso of Stryke, sending him backwards towards the cliff. A flurry of blows sent Stryke reeling. He spun the wood round again, but the monk ducked. This gave Stryke enough time to land a stinging uppercut, followed by a brutal head-butt. He was breathing deeply, but turned to face Rasta.
“ I tire of your little games, Master.”
“ You used a weapon.” Said Rasta blankly.
“ A WLT monk is always adaptable, right?” said Stryke, cynically.
Rasta nodded, and laughed. Stryke laughed as well, then Rasta had covered the gap between them. A single blow sent Stryke over the cliff top, and plunging towards the raging sea below. Stryke gasped in terror, hands scrabbling at the side. A sharp rock sliced through his skin, leaving flecks of blood on the rock. The bittersweet smell of seaweed filled his nostrils. He shouted in agony as his arm hooked onto a small tree. The pain jolted through his collarbone. He hung there, gazing down at the churning white water below. Above, Rasta looked down.
“ You never disobey me. While you are here, I am the Master, and you will do what I say.”
Then he turned and strode away.
“ WAIT!” yelled Stryke. “ What am I supposed to do? Climb this by myself?”
His cries were answered by silence.
**
Rasta was standing in the Iron Dojo as Stryke staggered in, clothes ripped. Before he could say anything, Rasta turned.
“ This is the Iron Dojo. It is designed to test your ability to slice time.”
” But I don’t KNOW how to slice time.”
“ No one does.” Intoned Rasta, and was out of the dojo in a flash. Stryke clenched his fists together. The door clicked shut and Stryke was left alone in the semi light. He could see faint stains that he hoped weren’t blood. Suddenly little hatches opened all over the dojo. A huge blow caught him behind the head and he toppled over. He groaned, and picked up what had hit him. A metal ball. He flipped to his feet. The another came, swift as lightning, slamming into his calf. He staggered backwards, and another took the leg out, placing him neatly on his back. He rose again, fiery determination in his eyes. Then he swept to one side, almost dodging one ball, but it carved a gouge in his arm. He bit his lip and clenched his other hand to the wound.
“ You must FEEL where the objects will come from. Extend your mind. Otherwise, you will die.”
Rasta’s emotionless tones rang through the dojo. Stryke gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He tried to form a picture of the room in his mind. He tried to extend his senses outwards…
There. He felt a glimmer from one hole. A milli-second later, an iron ball shot out. Stryke flipped to the side, and something happened. The world faded in colour, briefly, to a shade of blue. It slowed, and he flipped twice more. When he stopped, the ball had just passed the spot where he had been. The other side of the room. He glanced around wildly, and behind the walls, Rasta smiled. Stryke breathed in again. This time he knew he could do it. Five balls shot out in tandem from the walls. Stryke ran forward, the world fading to blue around him. He rolled over one that was moving at a snail’s pace, and kicked another from the air, sending it deep into the wall. He flipped backwards, avoiding the spikes of the last three, and finished facing the door. Rasta opened in immediately. He was smiling broadly.
“ You are ready.”
“ For what?”
“ Your final test.”
Rasta turned and walked smartly away, heading for an ominous building.
“ Welcome, to the Masters Dojo.”
**
Rasta span, flipping a staff of wood into his hand from a rack. He pointed it at Stryke.
“ Choose your weapon.”
Stryke gulped, looking at the fearsome array of swords, axes and daggers behind him. He reached for a broadsword, then remembered something. He smiled, and picked up a thin, steel blade, etched with runes. He spun it a few times, nodded, and sheathed it. Then he turned to Rasta.
“ I will not fight you Master.”
Rasta tilted his head to on side, smiling slightly.
“ You will.”
Then he leapt, staff twisting in his hands, arching down for a blow to Stryke’s head. He whipped out the sword, slicing time with ease, blowing the blow. They battled across the room, leaping away from the spikes that covered the wall. Rasta locked up Stryke’s sword, then backhanded him across the room. Stryke turned the fall into a roll, and was up just in time to block a blow that would have caved his windpipe in. He spun his legs around, supporting his body on one arm, and took the legs out from under Rasta. He ran, slicing time thinner and thinner, forcing Rasta backwards. The Abbot balanced on one foot, arching the staff up to block a blow… that wasn’t there. Stryke executed a sweep, brought Rasta to his knees, spun, kicked the staff away, and pointed the sword at Rasta.
“ You are defeated, Master.” Said Stryke, blood dripping down his face. Rasta sighed.
“ It is said when a master cannot beat the apprentice, he is no longer the master. However..”
Rasta reached up and gripped on the sword blade. He tugged it towards him, forcibly pulling Stryke down to his level.
“ I am not the Master for nothing.”
He moved quicker than Stryke could see. Stryke ran, slicing time is desperation. But Rasta was too quick. Then a lightning fast flurry of blows hit him, paralysing his legs and arms. He flopped to the ground. Rasta appeared, on the other side of the dojo.
“ How did you..” began Stryke.
Rasta walked up, and showed his hands. They were uncut. He wasn’t even breathing heavily.
“ You lulled me into a false sense of security.” Groaned Stryke.
“ I let you believe you could beat me, therefore you beat me.” Rasta said, simply. Stryke groaned again. Rasta hit a few places on the soldier’s arms and legs, and Stryke was free. He stood up.
“ I guess my training must continue then Master.” He sighed.
“ Why? You are ready. You must go. Now. Time is running out.” Rasta turned and faced towards the window, brow furrowed. Stryke opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, sheathed the sword and ran from the room. Rasta crossed his legs, and mediated. When he was sure Stryke was gone, he held out his hands, grabbed a bandage from a cabinet, and looked at his palms. He nodded. They erupted with blood, along the lines where he had gripped the sword. He grimaced, and quickly tied the bandages over them. He bowed his head.
“ We have control over time. We cannot stop it.” He whispered, softly.
**
Reaper beckoned to the shadowy figure in front of him.
“ Whooo may not suceeed. I need you to do this for me. You can kill Stryke.”
“ I’ve had five years of training for it.” The figure snapped. The figure advanced towards the light. Insomnia gulped as a hardened face emerged. He gripped hard on his armrest.
“ Who is it?” whispered Grix.
“ It’s the end of us. Stryke’s death. Vottanator.”
Vottanator twisted his neck to and fro, revealing hideous scarring down one side of his face. He licked his lips, the chance to kill Stryke burning in his mind.
“ That Stryke has made some powerful enemies.” Whispered Grix.
“ Tell me about it. If I was that boy, I’d pray I got killed before either of those monsters reaches him.” Grunted Insomnia, sorrowfully.
**
Stryke drove the jeep purposefully, heading for a region of the Archive no-one really remembered any more. The realm of the Seven Towers. He didn’t know what he’d find there, only that Grix reckoned it was important. He hammered his fist on the side of the jeep, pictures of Whooo’s victory over him still bright in his mind. He wouldn’t let it stand. He squinted into the distance. Seven pillars of rock, outlining an ancient amphi-theatre were on the horizon. All the world is but a stage… mused Stryke as he floored the accelerator.
**
Stryke paced through the huge arch, out onto the sand. Emptiness. Echoes danced around the seven Towers as his feet crunched the ancient grains. He looked around, blade gripped lightly in one hand.
“ Welcome to our stage.” A voice flitted across the space. Stryke spun, handgun raised.
“ Why do you come to us?” another voice, deep and threatening. Stryke whirled round, his sword clenched tight. Then a figure stepped out from behind a pillar.
“ Once upon a time, there were 40,000 regulars here, cheering every movement of your sword.” He whispered, the theatre resounding the tones round the soldier.
“ Now, the winds of time howl only to the sand.” This time the voice came from behind him. He turned quickly. Nothing. He turned back. Two figures were in front of him, swarthed in black cloths. Stryke backed off, sword pointed at one, gun pointed at the other.
“ Oh, put it away Stryke. It’s insulting to think I haven’t anticipated your every move.” One said, grinning. Stryke nodded, slowly, lowering his weapons.
” Who are you?”
One chortled.
“ One of Nine.” It said. “ The only one left from a proud unit.” It unwrapped it’s bandages. Stryke grunted.
“ Sniper. Thought you were dead.”
“ So does everyone.” Sniper intoned. Stryke nodded at the other.
“ He is the desert spirit itself. He came for me, when I was lying on the battlefield. He is mischief personified. Meet Loki.”
Loki bowed, uttering no sound.
“ Why have you come to us?” asked Sniper, unmoving.
“ Grix told me.. Seven Towers.”
Loki turned to Sniper, and nodded. Sniper grunted, but turned and ran to the far side of the theatre, grabbing a long box that lay there. He sprinted back, holding it out before him. Loki snapped the lid open, withdrawing a long, thin sword of silver.
“ You have there one of the Time Swords. That Rasta let you have it is no accident. This is the other. They were meant for someone to wield. I hope that it you.” Said Loki, in a deep, fiery voice.
Stryke withdrew his sword, and grasped the hilt of the other, his mouth wide in wonder. Then he spun them around and sheathed them on his back. He turned to thank Loki, but the mysterious stranger erupted in a shower of sand. Stryke held a hand over his mouth, choking, then Sniper was before him.
“ You could come back with me, Sniper.” Stryke offered, knowing the answer.
“ I cannot. My place is here. I am cannot leave.” He leant forward, smiling. “ Both swords are not meant for you. You will know.”
Then he vanished, not in a cloud of sand, but with the guile of a trained warrior. Stryke shook his head sadly. The Notables were truly gone. He turned and trudged back to the jeep. Now for Iguana. She had to be out there.
**
The fire blazed. Stryke threw more wood onto it, rubbing his hands together. He was at the edge of the Chatlands, about to cross over into the Wilderness. He looked into the shadows, grimacing. He stood up, intending to grab some more firewood. Then something rose out of the woodpile, fist arching out. Stryke reeled backwards, eyes questing for what had hit him. A figure twirled nunchaku around in his hands. He thrust his face into the firelight.
“ Remember me?” he snarled.
Stryke open his mouth and screamed. The figure from his nightmares had appeared. He scrabbled backwards, panting in fear.
“ My God! Vottanator!”
“ It wasn’t God who gave me this face, Stryke. It was you, throwing me from that tower.”
Stryke gasped for air, but his hatred of Vottanator was still there.
“ You expect me to feel sorry for you?” he growled.
“ No Stryke, I expected you to die for me!”
“ But…but… I killed you!”
“ You’d be amazed how much punishment the body can sustain. Oh, I survived Stryke. I have been training for this moment.”
Then Stryke shoved himself up from the ground, swords flashing out of their sheathes. He sliced time as he ran, whirling the blades round.
“ You will die. And this time, I will not miss!” he yelled. Vottenator just stood there, an amused look on his face. Then he turned, whirling one nuchuck round the hilt of Stryke’s sword. He tugged, sending it clattering to the ground. The other snapped closed round Stryke’s leg, causing him to shout in pain as the chains dug into his leg. He slammed back down, head near the fire. Vottanator leapt forward grabbing Stryke’s face, forcing it down towards the fire.
“ Everytime you look in the mirror, you will see MY face!” roared Vottanator, blood pounding behind his eyes. He felt righteous, vengeful. Stryke felt the heat on his cheek, felt his flesh begin to char. Then an outraged roar came from the darkness, and Whooo materialised, moving faster than ever, crashing into Vottanator.
“ HE IS MINE TO KILL!” yelled Whooo in outrage. He ploughed onwards. Stryke gasped and rolled sideways. He scrabbled around for his sword, but a foot crunched down on his palm. He yelped in pain, and looked up. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood there, sword clutched in his hand. Stryke grinned.
“ Lexus! Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Said Stryke, thankfully. Lexus didn’t smile.
“ I didn’t think I’d ever have to see you again. Let’s move. She wants to see you.”
Stryke knew who she was. Lexus was second in command of the Avengers. He would take him to Iguana. Lexus then hit Stryke hard on the back of the head, shoved him into a waiting jeep, and screeched off. Vottanator and Whooo still fought each other in the increasing darkness.
**
Vottanator howled in rage. He picked up Whooo and threw him into the fire. Whooo screamed in pain and leapt out.
“ WE ARE BOTH WORKING FOR REAPER!” Vottanator yelled, Uzi pointed straight at the Banned One. Whooo fell silent, head hung low.
“ Thanks to YOU, he got away.” Grunted Vottanator. “ Come on. Next time, we will kill him. Together.” He swung his nunchuka onto his back and strode off into the darkness, Whooo running to catch up.
**
Lexus was silent as the jeep pounded through the Wilderness, crunching over skulls and breaking down rotting trees. Stryke cleaned his sword, tended his wounds, then tried to speak to Lexus.
“ How did you..” he began.
“ She has her sources.” Replied Lexus curtly.
“ Oh. Why does she..” tried Stryke again.
“ Revenge.” Lexus said, a smile curling his lip. At this Stryke fell silent.
“ I’m a prisoner, aren’t I?” he questioned.
“ Certainly. Sentenced to death, I’d imagine.” Lexus said. Then he turned towards Stryke, anger visible in his eyes. “ You left us. You, who was scarred by a Banned One and had your closest friend murdered by Reaper.”
“ It was over Lexus. Think about why you joined. I was there, remember, fighting with you, at the battle?”
Lexus stared ahead into the wilderness, eyes hard…
**
Five years ago…
Lexus clashed his sword with a newbie, yelling his fury, then spun his axe round to cleave it in half. He turned, his brother Cooky and his friend Torax back to back with him. They worked smoothly, cleaving away at the mass of newbies. Then Lexus hesitated, glaring across at a clear area of the battlefield, and saw a friend of his on the ground, with a Banned One over him.
“ STRYKE!” yelled Lexus. He ran into the mob, sword and axe flying, cutting down newbies. Cooky and Torax ran with him, defending the running veteran. Lexus was hit down, his view obscured. Then he heard a piercing scream. He bit his lip and heaved himself to his feet. Whooo was being pulled back, blood pouring from a shoulder wound. Lexus cheered, and yelled his approval at Stryke, who heard, and turned, grinning. He face froze, he yelled something, and began to run towards Lexus. The soldier turned swiftly. Cooky was walking towards him, smiling. Then Torax rose from the ground, throwing axe positioned in his hand. Lexus’s eyes hardened, and he began to run, shouting warnings to Cooky. He turned to Torax, but the axe had left the traitor’s hand. It churned into Cooky, cleaving his heart. He fell backwards, and Lexus skidded to a halt, catching him. Cooky’s eyes rolled, his breathing was ragged.
“ No..” whispered Lexus softly. Cooky, smiled weakly, but with warmth. Then his eyes closed, and he sighed softly. Lexus laid the body down carefully, wiping away the tears welling in his eyes. Stryke ran up.
“ Damn.” Said the soldier, teeth gritted. Lexus leapt to his feet.
“ TORAX!!!” he screamed, but the newbie’s ranks had closed around the betrayer, shielding him. Lexus began to run forward, but Stryke grabbed him.
“ Lexus, no! It’s too dangerous. They’ll be another time. You hear me? They’ll be ANOTHER TIME!”
Lexus struggled wildly, not heeding the words. He shouted like a wild thing. Stryke shook his head, then landed a massive punch to Lexus’s jaw. He collapsed.
**
Lexus clenched his fists as he drove.
“ Torax is still out there, Stryke. You swore you’d help me find him. Just like you promised Iguana you’d help find Reaper. You let us all down, man. And I trusted you. We all trusted you.”
Lexus swivelled back to the road, eyes tight.
“ We’ll be there soon. Get ready.”
“ For what?”
Lexus grinned, without humour. “ The last fight of your life, army man.”
**
The jeep skidded to a halt in the middle of a camp. Skulls hung from wooden posts, and dark shapes moved in the gloom, always watching. It was almost dawn now, and thin rays of light were illuminating the camp. One such ray landed on the face of Iguana, and she walked slowly up to Stryke. She pulled a nail down his cheek, leaving a thin streak of blood. She laughed.
“ The mighty Major Stryke, Protector of all Digiveridia. Why did you return to the FOG?”
Stryke stared right into her eyes. “ It was the job we were chosen for.”
Iguana laughed again, pacing up and down.
“ I wonder, have you lost your touch? Become weak in the FOG?” She clapped once, and both her and Lexus ran into the tents, sealing them. Stryke reached up and withdrew one sword, taking up a combat stance. He looked around the camp, breathing slowly and calmly. He was ready. Then two newbies charged at him from the nearest tent. He leapt, slicing time slowly, swinging his sword round. He cleaved through one’s neck, sending the head rolling. He landed, and parried a blow from the club the other one wielded. He jumped, letting a clumsy blow pass harmlessly under his feet. He felt anger surge through him. How dare Iguana do this to him? He dropped the sword, and ran swiftly behind the newbie, grabbed its neck, and twisted. The sharp click resounded around the camp, and Stryke let the corpse fall. He flipped over, picking his sword up and pointed it at Iguana’s tent. She emerged, carrying a sword.
“ Let’s do this.” She said, softly. Stryke grinned and ran at Iguana, leaping high, sword held out. They clashed, sending sparks flying. Avengers ran through the camp, yelling at each other.
“ Stryke’s back! Iguana’s fighting him!” They leapt from guard posts, erupted from sleep, and crowded round in a circle as they fought.
The swords went faster and faster, clashing high, low, side to side as each sought for an opening. Then it happened. Stryke send Iguana’s sword flying and her backwards. She grinned.
“ I told you once you can never defeat me. Let’s see what you can do hand to hand.”
Before Stryke could speak, she had blurred, kicking his sword away and landing a boot in his stomach. The Avengers were silent. Some still harboured loyalty to Stryke. He ran and flipped backwards, narrowly avoiding a cutting blow from Iguana. He stopped, and raised his hands in a pose taught to him by Rasta. Iguana nodded her head in approval, then sliced time to enagage. Stryke did the same, parrying her blows, landing his own. They fought back and to, then Iguana gained an opening. He feigned a high blow, then jabbed at the weak knee-joint. Stryke staggered slightly, and that gave her the opening. She placed the kick perfectly, throwing Stryke’s body out of the camp and into the Wilderness. Lexus grinned. She was killing him. Stryke skidded along the ground, slamming into a rock. He groaned, coughing up blood. Iguana began to walk to his sword, when Stryke rose slowly to his feet. He extended a hand outwards, and beckoned to Iguana. She sighed, walking back towards him.
“ You should have walked when you felt the heat around the corner, Stryke.” A voice hissed from behind the rock. Stryke leapt backwards, drawing the sword Loki had given him. He ran backwards towards Iguana, flipping it to her.
“ Later, Iguana. This is now.”
She nodded, and ran back towards the camp. The Avengers were already arming up, as a band of newbies ran over the hill, led by Whooo. Vottanator leapt out from behind the rock, but didn’t attack, he just stood there, aloof. Stryke grabbed his sword, whirled around, and took up position next to Lexus.
“ Just like old times, eh?” grinned Stryke, encouragingly. Lexus allowed himself a slight smile, then he focused on the battle. The newbies hit, forcing the Avengers deep into the camp. Stryke fell backwards, turning the fall into a throw, and sent a newbie onto a sharp wooden spike. He turned, cleaving off the legs of another. He slammed his hilt into one, doubling it up. He thrust his sword deep into its eye, then turned. Lexus was being forced backwards. Five newbies encircled him. Stryke yelled, and launched himself into the attack, cutting down one before they even saw him coming. He fought his way through, but Lexus was on the ground, newbie plunging an axe towards his skull. Stryke threw his sword overarm, scything through the newbie at the midriff. He smiled encouragingly at Lexus, who managed to swing his sword round to kill another newbie, and then smile back. Stryke turned back to the battle, but two newbies bulled into him, shoving him into the back areas of the camp. He struggled, and they dumped him in a deserted area. Stryke quickly cut them in half, but a voice came from the darkness.
“ Vottanator won’t come in here. The Newbies detect a regular by the smell. They’d attack him. Which means…”
Whooo walked out, holding a mace in each of his four arms.
“ I’ve got you all to myself.” Grimaced Stryke. He rose the sword to defence position. Whooo clashed his maces together, and threw one. Stryke dodged it by slicing, and then the attack was joined…
**
Stryke dodged the vicious blow, and vaulted over Whooo’s head. Whooo flipped his three remaining maces over and over, swinging two swiftly towards Stryke, who brought his sword up swiftly, countering one, and deflecting another. Then Whooo slammed a knee up and into the back of Stryke, sending him crashing to the sand. Stryke’s eyes widened as Whooo slammed a mace towards his skull. He shoved upwards with both feet and arms, and he turned the force into a spin that carried him inches clear of the mace head. He steadied himself, and the fight was joined. They clashed over and over, the force of the mace countered by the speed of the sword. Then Whooo struck out with a foot, making Stryke’s ankle buckle. He grunted, and turned the fall into a roll. He leapt up, and was quickly on the offensive. He sliced through the handle of one mace, splintering the end into Whooo’s hand. The Banned One screamed in pain, and lashed out with another mace. Stryke couldn’t move quick enough. The heavy metal thudded into his side, splashing blood outwards. He groaned in pain, and sagged backwards, one hand clutched to his side. He felt the cloth of his shirt turning damp and warm. The blood was flowing too freely. He cast his eyes about, searching for an answer. There – a burning tent support. He limped over to it, eyes screwed up in pain. Then he thrust his sword into the fire, watching worriedly as Whooo picked splinters from his hand. Stryke turned back to the sword, and Whooo charged. The sword was glowing red, and he whipped it from the fire and pressed it hard against the wound. He screamed in pain as the hot metal cauterised the wound. The harsh smell of scorched flesh reached his nostrils, and then Whooo leapt, his two maces raised for the strike. Then Stryke span, slicing time thin, egged on by the pain. He sliced round with the burning sword, slitting the edge through Whooo’s stomach.
“ For Turbo!” yelled Stryke, and brought the sword round again, gashing a deep score across Whooo’s torso.
“ For Tony!” he yelled again, and lashed out diagonally with the sword, opening Whooo’s throat where Stryke had been scarred.
“ For me.” He whispered, and looked on as Whooo, trembling, raised his hands to his throat. Blood was bubbling out with increasing speed. He looked up imploringly at Stryke, his eyes wide. Stryke, for the first time, felt sorry for the pitiful being before him. He span, eyes set, and marched away, as Whooo’s corpse collapsed forward into the sand, a slow pool of russet spreading.
**
Iguana looked sorrowfully around at her camp when Stryke approached. Lexus stood by her, weeping.
“ This is all? The Avengers? All dead?” asked Stryke, incredulously.
Iguana nodded, slowly. Lexus pounded the earth with his fist. Stryke wiped his blade clean and sheathed it.
“ Now do you believe me?” asked Stryke, facing Iguana. She said nothing, but nodded slowly.
“ Then lets go.” Said Lexus, axe in his hand. He leapt into a jeep, and started it. The other two followed, and Iguana let out a sob as they screeched out of the camp riddled with bodies.
**
It was early evening, and the three were camped on the outskirts of Prime. Everyone was arming themselves. Stryke had two swords on his back, and another two at waist holsters. He checked the load and bullets of two machine guns, then rested them on the table. Lexus sat opposite him, a ring of throwing knifes belted around his waist.
“ Torax is there?” asked Lexus. Stryke nodded, still sighting along the barrel. He saw Iguana sitting on a rock, alone, staring at the distant Council citadel. Stryke whipped his fifth sword into a centre sheath, and walked over to Iguana. He leant against a rock, staring at the last rays of sunlight curving around the citadel.
“ You loved him.” Stryke muttered, holstering a pistol. Iguana shifted slowly to face him.
“ Why do we battle to save FOG Stryke? What makes it different from the Wilderness, or the fabled lands of EB?”
“ I have seen much of the rest of the world. It is dark and cold. FOG is the light!”
Iguana shifted again, facing the sunset.
“ Have you ever loved?” she asked, softly. Stryke slid down the rock.
“ There was one, a long time ago. Back home, before I joined the army. She was my world.”
“ What happened to her?”
**
Eight years ago…
Stryke smiled happily at the girl sat next to him. They leant against the massive oak tree on the edge of the field. The sun was high and bright, and they had sat there for hours, saying little, doing nothing. The leaves cast a dappled pattern over his face, and he knew this day would live forever in his memory, and the warmth he felt was nothing to do with the sunlight. He turned to her, mouth opening to ask the question, when an unholy roar erupted from the bushes. Stryke leapt to his feet as tattooed behemoths sprang up, primitive weapons brandished.
” [name], stay with me.” Yelled Stryke. “ They’re Newbies. Whatever comes at us, we will have a better chance if we stay together.”
But she was hysterical and ripped herself from his grasp, running towards the town. Stryke yelled in fear, but she ran on. Time seemed to slow, and Stryke skidded to a halt as the first spear thudded into her body. He ran up to her as another spear went through her ribs. She looked up at him, warmth in her eyes, and she reached up to touch his face gently.
” Go.” She whispered softly.
He held her close as the newbies came closer, then he sprang away and pelted for the woods, spears hitting the ground on either side of him.
**
He clenched his fists tight.
“ She was taken from you.”
Stryke nodded, and hit the rock, teeth gritted.
“ That is how I feel, every single day.” Said Iguana, her face set. “ He was taken from me, and I loved him!”
She turned away, facing towards the sunset.
**
The three crept slowly around the edges of the council hall, eyes tracking the many JATs lining the hall.
“ I’d estimate 30.” Said Stryke, back against the seat. Iguana nodded, and Lexus pointed.
“ There. Leading Reaper’s Guard. Torax.”
“ Now is not the time.” Said Stryke. “ Ready, Iguana?”
She nodded. They clasped hands.
“ Strength and honour.”
Then Iguana and Lexus rolled to the sides, whipping their guns up, shooting a wild burst over the heads of the trapped councillors. Stryke burst out from behind the seats, arms crossed over, machines guns roaring. Ranks of JATs fell, riddled with bullets. Stryke dropped the empty guns and flipped over to where Insomnia and Grix were bound. He rolled across, lashing out with a dagger. Their bindings fell, and Stryke whipped out his back mounted swords.
“ Here. Strength and honour.”
Then he rolled behind a seat and brought another gun into firing position. Iguana leapt out, two pistols held steady. A flurry of shots took down all but three of Reaper’s guard. Lexus charged forward. Torax grinned, an ugly smile. He waved at the two other guards, who grabbed Reaper and leapt behind a marble seat. Then Torax shed his jacket, drew an axe, and strode forward the meet Lexus. Stryke ran along the edge of the first floor and flipped down to the ground. A side door swung open, and Vottanator strode forward, flanked by a fresh squad of Newbies. Stryke gulped as they raised their guns, and he sprinted for the small window out onto the balcony. He dived forward as bullets churned up the marble, and he smashed through the pane. He rolled with the impact and leapt behind a pillar, twin pistols drawn. Vottanator kicked the door open, 6 newbies backing him. Stryke spun round from one pillar to the next, guns blazing. 4 newbies fell to the ground. Then two swords spun through the air, splicing into the newbies. Vottanator withdrew his nunchucks, grinning.
“ We are both professionals. This is personal.” He shouted, the sound echoing around the pillared room. Stryke stepped out, sword clutched double-handed. Vottanator grinned again, and charged.
**
As Lexus and Torax battled out of the room, Iguana was left in the silent hall. Grix and Insomnia looked to her, swords clutched. She beckoned to each side, sending them round the seat where Reaper hid. Then she showered the marble with bullets, decimating the chair. Then the hall fell silent again, for a moment. Two JATs erupted from behind the seat, angling for the two councillors. And Reaper sprang up, unarmed. He grinned at Iguana.
“ You should have heard your love squeal, as I cleaved his skull!” howled Reaper, his arms wide. Then Iguana spun her sword free from its sheath and vaulted down to the floor. She took up combat position, sword held out to the side.
“ You don’t want to die today, Reaper.” She growled.
“ You forget, I’m already dead!” he yelled in response.
“ Not dead enough for me.” Muttered Iguana, and then Reaper charged. No war-cry, just a simple blindingly fast movement, and he had kicked the sword from her hand. Another blow had sent her sprawling. Reaper walked forward, slowly.
**
Lexus slammed his foot into Torax’s leg. He swung the axe round, but Torax was too quick. In a shower of sparks he send the blow slamming into the wood frame of a door. Lexus tugged at it, but it was stuck tight. Torax smiled thinly, and swung his axe round, ready to make the blow. Quick as lightning, Lexus barrelled forward, slamming his shoulder into Torax’s stomach. The newbie doubled over, and his axe slipped from his hand. Lexus charged forward, and the pair went flying over a balcony and crashed into a deep pool. Torax spluttered for breath and shoved Lexus away, making for the bank. Lexus smiled in triumph. He pulled a throwing knife from his belt, sighting carefully. Then he threw, opening a deep wound in Torax’s back. Before the dying newbie could fall, Lexus was on him, pounding his fist over and over again into the face of his nemesis. The newbie died swiftly, but Lexus carried on punching, five years of hatred aimed directly at one fragile body.
**
Vottanator jumped as he ran, the nunchucks leaving his hands, spinning towards Stryke, who was forced to drop to the floor to avoid them, sheathing his sword. Then Vottanator swung a heavy boot, flipping Stryke over. He kicked again, the force throwing the soldier to his feet. He launched a punishing blow that sent Stryke skidding backwards across the marble. Vottanator laughed, a sadistic laugh.
“ You won’t leave this place. You will have to fight me to leave.”
Stryke raised his head shakily. “You would fight me?”
Vottanator snarled. “ You think I am afraid?”
“I think you have been afraid all of your life.”
Vottanator roared in outrage, and charged. But the brief distraction had been enough. Stryke swung his legs around, scoring two blows. He used the momentum to get back to his feet, and land a stinging uppercut that sent the mercenary into a pillar.
“ The Avengers are bloodied and cleaved. I will not believe they died for nothing! I’ll kill you for that!” Roared Stryke, pounding away.
Vottanator blocked a blow and used the force to shove Stryke backwards. He landed a roundhouse kick that sent the soldier reeling, and then dropkicked him square in the chest. Stryke gasped at the impact, and then gaped as Vottanator rolled and leapt from the three storey high room. He rushed to the edge and looked down. The mercenary was running into a ground floor opening to a tower.
“ Been there, done that.” Muttered Stryke, and raced across the ledge to the third floor opening. He jogged up to the top, to wait for his adversary. But as he emerged, Vottanator swung down from his perch atop the doorframe and kicked Stryke firmly in the back, sending him sprawling, but the veteran was too quick and leapt to his feet in time to a parry a sharp blow.
“ Have you ever felt a pain so powerful, so heavy you collapse?” asked Vottanator, as they locked arms.
“ Every day of my life.” Retorted Stryke, as he struggled to be free.
“ Then you know how much I need to kill you. I live only to kill you.”
“ What’s the point in living if you can’t feel alive, you scum?” yelled Stryke, and thrust his head forward, sending Vottanator backwards. Then he reached up and drew his sword, pointing it straight at Vottanator. The mercenary chortled, blood dripping down his forehead.
“ End of the line.” Snarled Stryke.
“ A man tires of being executed.” Vottanator grunted, hand pressed to his head. A silence fell upon them, deafening him.
Vottanator laughed. “ The silence before you strike?”
Stryke laughed as well, and then Vottanator launched himself forwards. Stryke whipped the sword round and through Vottenator. The mercenary looked up at Stryke, his eyes full of questions.
“ I….”
He slumped forward, and his head tumbled slowly across the platform. Stryke squatted onto his haunches, fatigue washing over him.
“ The silence before you strike?”
He stood, wiping his blade clean. He let the silence wash over him, cleansing him. Then he dashed down the tower, aiming for the sounds echoing from the main chamber.
**
Iguana got up shakily. Reaper stood over her.
“ We are but shadows and dust, Iguana, shadows and dust.”
He grabbed her and lifted her high, slamming her body against the wall.
“ At last I reveal myself to you. At last I have my revenge.” He reached and stroked her cheek softly. Then he span and hurled her forcibly into the marble. He laughed as she slid down the smooth stone, leaving a thin smear of blood.
“ You’re finished Reaper. Your army is scattered.” She groaned, still slumped at the bottom of the chair.
“ Let my men see me alive and you shall see where their loyalties lie.” He retorted, swinging a sword casually from hand to hand.
Iguana groaned again. Her vision was going hazy. She focused, willing her mind to help.
**
Rasta’s eyes snapped open. He leapt from his mediation and out the door, slicing time thinner and thinner.
She needed him.
**
Reaper pointed a finger at Iguana, anger suddenly rising within him. Then the door smashed open and lexus and Stryke ran into the room, skidding to a halt at the sign of Reaper standing with a sword in his hand. Reaper grinned, showing long fangs. Lexus attacked first, his axe moving swiftly. Reaper hardly moved, but the axe embedded itself in Lexus’s neck, and the Avenger toppled forward. Iguana sobbed softly into her hand as the corpse dripped blood down into a bullet-hole. Reaper leapt forward, beckoning to Stryke, the sword now in his hand. Stryke grimaced. He knew he was going to die. Iguana raised a hand, trying to stop him. Then Stryke attacked, sword blurring.
Reaper countered every attack calmly, not even breaking a sweat. With one flick he disarmed Stryke, but the soldier executed a smooth flip and kicked Reapers sword away. Iguana looked suddenly at Stryke’s sword as it skidded to a halt near her hand. Reaper inclined his head slightly in admiration. Then Insomnia and Grix leapt out from behind a chunk of marble, swords raised. Reaper flipped round, causing the swords to appear in his hands. He swung idly, beheading the former notable and the veteran councillor. Stryke cursed, blood soaking his hair. He punched at Reaper, slicing time to meet with the newbie leader, ever more desperate, as Reaper calmly flicked away incoming blows.
Then Reaper moved faster, and he had one arm locking Stryke’s arms behind his back, and another tight under his chin. Stryke grimaced, his vertebrae clicking slowly.
“ You hear that, Mr Stryke? That is the sound of your impending doom. The future is our place, it is my time.”
Stryke gargled, blood rising in his throat.
“ Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.” He laughed slowly, fate accepted.
Reaper smiled broadly, then bent down and whispered in Stryke’s ear.
“ You are beneath me.”
He thrust upwards. Stryke’s neck cracked out loud, and Reaper stepped backwards, a look of disgust on his face. He let go, and the body crumpled to the ground. Iguana yelled and rose both swords. Reaper rolled over, picking up his own sword and facing Iguana. Sparks flew to the ground and over the four corpses as they battled, Reaper grinning all the line. He locked swords and leant close to Iguana, smiling into her eyes. Then she threw him backwards, but he was too quick. He thrust his sword though her hand and yelled out, dropping the sword. She brought the other one across, but a kick disposed of that. He twisted the sword, forcing her backwards. She spluttered, hand scrabbling behind her.
“ You are going to die, Iguana.” He whispered.
She grinned. “ I once knew a man who said death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.”
“ So you will smile merrily as a carve your heart from your chest.”
She shook her head. “ I’m not a man.” She brought her hand around from behind her, pistol clutched in it. He didn’t say anything as the cold metal pressed against his forehead. Knowing what would happen, he whipped the sword out of her hand and towards her heart.
“ Dodge this.” She intoned, and sent a slug deep into Reaper’s brain, knowing it was too late. His sword cut through her chest, sending a spray of blood outwards. As Reaper’s corpse collapsed to the ground, and he looked up at her, blood frothing from the wound.
“ Shadows and du…”
She slumped backwards. The window exploded in shards of glass. Rasta plunged through. His face sank as he saw Iguana lying in a pool of her own blood. He rushed over, cradling her in his arms. She was barely moving.
“ You can see him.” He smiled, tears running down his cheeks. “ Go to him.”
Iguana smiled up, and then her eyes clouded and she sighed slowly.
**
Rasta stood alone on the outskirts of the WLT Abbey. He held the twin swords that Iguana and Stryke had carried. He thrust them into soft soil by the newest graves. He looked out, over the now safe FOG lands.
“ Now we are free. I will see you again, my friends.” He gathered his robes around him, and turned towards the Abbey, looking over the crops needing to be harvested.
“ But not yet. Not yet.”
--
NEWBIE MENACE II: REAPER STRIKES BACK
Five years have passed since the victory of the FOG against the Newbies, and the death of Turbo. Yesterday’s soldiers have become today’s politicians. The belief is that Reaper perished at the hands of RastaBillySkank. But the Abbot of WLT knows otherwise, and he has kept his monks on alert.
But the pain of loss and thirst for revenge was too much for some. Iguana, of the Order of WLT, had assembled a loose group of veterans too embittered against Reaper and the Banned Ones to forget what had happened.
And so she searches, throughout the Wilderness, returning only occasionally to the FOG, where is a legend among the ranks. But her group is losing solidarity. Five long years have taken their toll on the Avengers. Their numbers have dwindled, and Iguana forays deeper and deeper into the Wilderness.
The Council of FOG has had enough. They plan to send a recovery team to get Iguana, led by the veteran, and former Avenger, Major Stryke…
Tony rose, his robes folding around him.
“ This session of the FOG Council is open. Major Stryke, please rise.”
The offical bodyguard of the Digiveridia Councillor, Insomnia, rose swiftly to his feet. A long, white scar traced diagonally across his neck, and his eyes were deep and harrowed. He carried no weapons, for none were allowed in the Council Hall.
“ You, Major Stryke, are a former friend of the renegade known as Iguana.”
Stryke stiffened, slightly. His eyes focused, and his mind went back to a point, two years ago…
****
Iguana grabbed Stryke by the throat and forced him backwards.
“ IT IS NOT OVER!”
She stepped over the still cooling corpse of Dogfather, one of the three Banned Ones they hunted. Stryke gasped, his breath coming shallow and ragged. Iguana growled, and let go. She span and kicked him forcibly in the midriff. He staggered backwards, collapsing at the foot of a earth barrier.
“ You and I formed the Avengers, Stryke. You still hunt for the scum that killed your friend, and the One that gave you that scar…”
Stryke touched the scar he had been given by a Banned One – scum that still walked free. He staggered to his feet slowly.
“ No. It is over, Iguana. They cannot be found. They must be dead. We have killed the one we tracked for three years.”
He prodded the corpse with is boot. Iguana turned wild-eyed.
“ HE KILLED TURBO!” she yelled, manically.
“ Iguana, enough.”
He turned to leave, facing back towards the distant green of the Chatlands.
“ Turn around.”
Stryke paused, his breathing laboured.
“ I said, TURN AROUND!”
Stryke swivelled slowly, fists clenched. Then Iguana struck, feet flying, smashing Stryke’s nose. She leapt, kicking him flying backwards into a pile of bones. He coughed, sending blood onto his jacket. She grabbed him, and landed a blindingly quick series of punches to his torso. Another jab with a leg cut his feet out from under him. Stryke crashed to the ground, bloodied and beaten. She stood over him, grimacing.
“ Get lost. No-one can face a WLT monk in combat. You will never defeat me.”
Stryke stared, fear in his eyes. Then he turned, and ran.
Major Stryke gulped.
“ Yes, she was a friend.”
Tony looked curious, but didn’t ask.
“ Then I charge you with her recovery. Her misguided quest is pointless.”
Major Stryke jerked his head up towards Tony.
” I can’t defeat her. She is too quick. Too… powerful.”
He hung his head in shame. Then a loud bang rang out. The huge copper doors of the Hall were bending inwards.
“ What the?” said Insomnia, rising from his seat. Stryke snarled. Tony quickly tapped a few keys on his armrest.
“ Who is that? Where are the guards?”
In response a grating sound returned, gabbled.
“ That’s Spam!” exclaimed Stryke. “ The guards are dead. Newbies are out there!”
Tony gulped.
“ They mean to destroy us!”
Stryke chortled.
“ Of course they do. Now, you have a choice. Can you get someone out of here?”
Tony nodded.
“ Then send someone to the Abbey of WLT. RBS will help.”
Tony looked around the assembled councillors.
“ But who? We are all politicians. Rasta ceded from the Council after the Great War.”
Grix Thraves, former leader of the Notables, now Prime’s Councillor, rose.
“ Rasta will respect a soldier. I propose we send Major Stryke.”
Stryke strode forward.
“ No!” he yelled into the growing support. “ I stay by my councillor. His safety is my concern.”
Insomnia walked slowly to Stryke, and whispered in his ear. Stryke shook his head again. The copper doors bent inwards again. Handprints could be seen as the Newbies hammered on it.
“ You will all die!” shouted Stryke, desperately. Grix shook his head.
“ They need us. We are moderately safe. Stryke, we need Iguana. You must find her, and ask for her help. She…. Wasn’t wrong.”
Stryke looked up at Grix, fire burning in his eyes.
“ You mean?”
“ Stryke, you must go!” shouted the Web Councillor.
The soldier looked up at Insomnia. He nodded sedately. Then Grix strode over to a small tapestry. He wrenched it open, revealing a hatch. He quickly tapped a code in, causing the hatch to swing open. Stryke kicked open a box by its side, retrieving a gun. Grix stood by the door, and as Stryke passed, he ducked down to whisper something in his ear.
” The Seven Towers.”
Stryke looked questioningly at Grix, before the councillor saluted and shoved Stryke down the escape route. The route collapsed behind him, sealing off the possibility of chase. And their escape, grimaced Stryke. Then he was gone, running swiftly away from the Hall.
The door exploded inwards, sending shards of copper into the marble walls. The smoke hid the invaders, causing a moment of silence, as the councillors waited to see who came through.
Five bullets lanced through the space, thudding into Tony’s skull. The Council leader fell backwards, blood streaking from his wounds. Then a squad of JATs filed through the hole – The elite troops of the Wilderness. Then a figure walked through, scars laced down his cheeks. He strolled towards the Council, pistol clutched in one hand. He was banked by a tall, thin figure, hissing quietly. The JATs seized the Councillors, roughly binding them to their chairs. The scarred figure sat slowly in Tony’s chair. He pulled the barrel of his gun slowly across the marble rest, then sighed. He leaned forward, revealing to the Council his face. They drew back. A network of scars covered his face. Bright blue tattoos streaked across his shaven head, and the tips of fangs protruded from below his top lip. Grix dropped his head in resignation.
“ I am Reaper. I am back. You will die.” The figure said simply.
**
Stryke rolled out of the tunnel, expecting to be met by newbies. But nothing. The quiet landscape of FOG was undisturbed. Could it have been something other than Newbies? And if it was, why was there no invasion force?
Stryke forced his mind back to the mission. He had to get to the WLT Abbey. That meant transport. He was at the heart of Prime. The Abbey was near the borders, in the moors. Could he trust the army depots? He made a decision, and ran out onto the main road bordering the Hall. A distressed regular swerved to avoid him, then Stryke wrenched open the door, and threw the regular out onto the road. He crunched his foot down onto the accelerator, and churned up some mud into the face of the carless regular.
**
Stryke slumped in the chair Rasta indicated.
“ Rasta! The Council has..”
“ Been taken over by Reaper.” Rasta smiled at Stryke’s mystified expression. “ I have my sources. Listen, Stryke, this is no time for rushing. You have come to me to learn.”
“ No, I need help to find Igu…” Stryke began. Rasta held up his hands.
“ You will not defeat her without my training.”
Stryke opened his mouth to reply, then word’s that Iguana had said, years ago, came back to him.
‘ No one can face a WLT monk in combat. You will never defeat me’.
” You want to train me in the ways of WLT?”
Rasta smiled. “ Yes. Come with me.”
**
Rasta stood in the padded room.
“ This is the Novice Dojo. After you finish being a novice, you will proceed through the Djinns, One to Five. Then you become a Master. Like Iguana. Now, hit me.”
Stryke drew back. Then Rasta flew at him, blows coming from nowhere. Stryke landed face down, with Rasta pinning his arms.
“ A WLT Master can move through time faster than the ordinary person. We can post with speed. We fight by moving through time quicker than the rest of the world. And we NEVER hesitate.”
He backed off, allowing Stryke to rise to his feet, shakily.
“ Now, hit me.”
Stryke thrust a foot out, hoping to catch Rasta in the kneecap. Then the Abbot was behind him, throwing him forwards into the wall.
“ Anticipate the opponents moves. Feel, don’t think. Trust your instincts.”
Stryke growled. He was angry now. He flipped up onto his feet and span, arching a foot out at the space where Rasta’s head was. The Master just leant backwards, allowing the foot to brush past his face. He gestured towards Stryke, sending the solider backwards.
“ Never act in anger. A WLT monk is always calm. We are a religious order. Our methods of fighting are done for self-defence.”
Stryke stood up again, breathing heavily. Rasta hung his head.
“ Maybe I cannot teach you. Mediate here for the night.”
He slipped swiftly out of the dojo, leaving Stryke standing in the middle of the room. Stryke grimaced. He sat down, legs crossed, eyes closed. He WOULD bring Iguana back. He focused his mind.
Outside, Rasta grinned sedately. Stryke was the key he needed to bring back Iguana. She was the only hope now.
**
Reaper lounged in the High Council seat, idly throwing peanut shells onto the bloodied corpse of Tony. His sharp eyes caught something, and he sat upright. He rose swiftly, and padded over to the slightly opened hatch. He looked down the tunnel, seeing the distant splash of green. He howled in anger, then spun and hit Grix hard across the face. The former Notable leader fell backwards, but Reaper grabbed him and shoved his face up close.
“ Who?”
Grix remained resolutely silent.
“ Who? I won’t ask again.”
Grix was resolute. Reaper shook his head, and pulled his gun out.
“ Wait!” Insomnia rose. “ Grix, it will do no good to get yourself killed. It was Stryke.”
Reaper grinned. He beckoned to the tall, intimidating figure behind him.
“ You know this Stryke?”
The Banned One known as Whooo grinned evilly.
“ He is mine to kill.”
“ Then go.” Whispered Reaper.
Whooo howled his pleasure to the Hall. He threw himself forward, pelting through the tunnel. This was going to be fun.
**
Stryke stood alone in the courtyard.
“ Face your fears.” Rasta’s voice echoed around the courtyard. Stryke grimaced, and chewed on the herbs Rasta had given him. The world took on a hazy look. Rasta stepped out into the courtyard. Stryke yelled. Vottenator stood before him.
“ But I killed you!” he yelled, scrambling backwards.
” Face your fears.” Said Rasta again, advancing towards Stryke, who struggled to his feet, his eyes wide with fear. Through his eyes, Vottenator drew back a fist.
“Face your fears.” The voice came a third time. Stryke gulped, and shakily placed his feet in a combat pose. Vottenator struck, but Stryke brought his hands up into a block. Vottenator smiled, and twisted with the force, slamming a palm into the pressure point at the back of Stryke’s neck, who crumpled to the floor, groaning. The world swam back into focus. Rasta stood where Vottenator had been, looking at his nails.
“ How did I beat you?” he muttered.
Stryke felt a surge of anger. The monk had tricked him. He launched himself to his feet, and forwards the monk. Rasta flipped backwards, somehow landing a blinding flurry of blows to the back of Stryke’s legs. They suddenly went numb, and the soldier crumpled to the ground, gasping. Rasta bent down.
“ Your legs are stuck at the joints. I can fix it. But, I will not. Tomorrow, I will return. A WLT monk is adaptable. He does not act in anger. He has no fear.”
He straightened up and walked to the exit.
“ Remember, this will make you a better warrior. You will need to be. A storm is coming.”
**
Whooo crept soundlessly to the entrance of the Abbey, sniffing the air. His quarry was close. He felt the welt of skin at his shoulder – A lasting reminder of what Stryke had done to him. He tasted the air. He was close…
**
Stryke lay on his back in the courtyard, gazing up at the stars.
‘ A WLT Monk does not act in anger. He is adaptable. He has no fear. He moves faster through time. He does not hesitate’.
A quick movement from the side made him jerk his head around. A shadow was briefly visible in the moonlight between two pillars. He cursed. Something was here. He sat up, pounding his useless legs. This was trouble. The shadow was briefly visible again. A faint hiss reached his ears. Oh no..
“ I know you’re there!” Yelled Stryke, into the darkness.
“ How verrrrrry observant of you.” Hissed a vioce quietly in his ear. He spun around. Nothing. Then a blow landed behind his shoulder blades. He crashed forward, slamming into the cobbles of the courtyeard. An acrid smell met his nostrils, the smell of decay. A shadow rose behind him, tall, and Stryke felt an impact in his ribcage. He yelled in pain, and rolled to narrowly avoid the next blow.
“ Why so weak, rrrrrrrregular?” hissed the shadow. He punched downwards again, splitting Stryke’s lip. He thrust his face close to the bleeding soldier’s. Stryke snorted.
“ Whooo. Should have known that stink could only have come from you.”
Whooo screamed in anger and launched a blow that sent Stryke flying backwards against a pillar. Vertabrae crunched in protest, and Stryke fell to the cobbles again, pain lancing down his spine. Cold sweat dripped down his face. He was helpless in the face of a trained warrior. And he was going to die. Whooo hefted Stryke onto his shoulders and slammed him into a wall. Stryke’s cheek split and blood erupted outwards onto Whooo’s face. The Banned One licked at it, grimacing at the taste. He landed a stinging uppercut that sent Sryke groggily into a wall. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he slumped. The last sight he thought he’d ever see was a flash of white as Whooo advanced on him…
**
Stryke opened his eyes hazily. A figure clothed in white stood over him.
“ Am I dead?” he muttered slowly.
“ Far from it.” Whispered the figure. Stryke looked around. He was in a stone room. He blinked again, and the world focused. It was Rasta standing over him.
“ What happened?”
“ I arrived just in time. Two monks were found with their throats slit at the gate. I remembered how I had left you. I defeated Whooo, but the need for you to get to the san was too great. He… escaped.”
Stryke lay back, secretly pleased. Rasta had not killed him That meant Stryke could.
“ How soon can I get back to training.”
“ Not for a week, I’m afraid.” Said Rasta, apologetically.
Stryke nodded, and stood up.
“ Hey! Didn’t I just say…” yelled Rasta.
“ You did, Master. Then I remembered a WLT Monk is always adaptable.”
Rasta nodded in approval. The boy was learning.
“ Then let us begin. To the cliffs.”
**
Reaper slammed a fist into the face of Whooo, re-opening a wound given to him Rasta.
“ You were defeated?”
Whooo staggered backwards, hands raised.
“ Please, my Lord, we know where he is hiding. We can go in again!”
Reaper snarled, and strode one pace towards Whooo and slammed a gun barrel up against his forehead.
“ Idiot! Have I taught you nothing? The whole point of this plan is for NO ONE to know we have power! The WLT monks will be on the alert, seeing as you killed two of them. ON YOUR KNEES!”
Whooo bent down, shaking in fear.
“ Please master. I will wait… I can kill Stryke when he leaves the monastery. All is not lost…”
Reaper relaxed his grip on Whooo.
“ You have a point. We don’t as yet know what Stryke is trying to do.”
He nodded, and kicked Whooo backwards.
“ Get out my sight. Take a JAT with you. Send him back when Stryke leaves the Abbey. Don’t attack Stryke until you know what he is doing. Understand?”
Whooo nodded frantically, then turned and loped from the room. Reaper slammed his gun onto the armrest.
“ Come here JAT.” He beckoned at an emotionless figure, who stepped forward. Reaper unloaded his cartridge dispassionately into the newbie, relishing the spray of blood as the figure collapsed to the floor. Stryke wouldn’t get away. He would be brought before Reaper. And then, thought Reaper, licking his lips, he would break the scum’s spine.
**
Stryke and Rasta stood on the cliff. Two monks stood opposite them.
“ This is the Arena, Stryke.” Said Rasta softly. “ These monks can slice time. You need to defeat them. With nothing but the combat methods you know.”
Stryke nodded, and walked into the chalked area. The monks bowed. Stryke didn’t move. They bowed again, uncertain. Then Stryke struck, moving between them, spinning to pick up a stick from the ground. He swept the legs out from under one, then kicked out, relying on the momentum of his spin the knock the other off his feet. He span the stick round, landing a blow the head of one, poleaxing him. Then the other slammed a fist into the torso of Stryke, sending him backwards towards the cliff. A flurry of blows sent Stryke reeling. He spun the wood round again, but the monk ducked. This gave Stryke enough time to land a stinging uppercut, followed by a brutal head-butt. He was breathing deeply, but turned to face Rasta.
“ I tire of your little games, Master.”
“ You used a weapon.” Said Rasta blankly.
“ A WLT monk is always adaptable, right?” said Stryke, cynically.
Rasta nodded, and laughed. Stryke laughed as well, then Rasta had covered the gap between them. A single blow sent Stryke over the cliff top, and plunging towards the raging sea below. Stryke gasped in terror, hands scrabbling at the side. A sharp rock sliced through his skin, leaving flecks of blood on the rock. The bittersweet smell of seaweed filled his nostrils. He shouted in agony as his arm hooked onto a small tree. The pain jolted through his collarbone. He hung there, gazing down at the churning white water below. Above, Rasta looked down.
“ You never disobey me. While you are here, I am the Master, and you will do what I say.”
Then he turned and strode away.
“ WAIT!” yelled Stryke. “ What am I supposed to do? Climb this by myself?”
His cries were answered by silence.
**
Rasta was standing in the Iron Dojo as Stryke staggered in, clothes ripped. Before he could say anything, Rasta turned.
“ This is the Iron Dojo. It is designed to test your ability to slice time.”
” But I don’t KNOW how to slice time.”
“ No one does.” Intoned Rasta, and was out of the dojo in a flash. Stryke clenched his fists together. The door clicked shut and Stryke was left alone in the semi light. He could see faint stains that he hoped weren’t blood. Suddenly little hatches opened all over the dojo. A huge blow caught him behind the head and he toppled over. He groaned, and picked up what had hit him. A metal ball. He flipped to his feet. The another came, swift as lightning, slamming into his calf. He staggered backwards, and another took the leg out, placing him neatly on his back. He rose again, fiery determination in his eyes. Then he swept to one side, almost dodging one ball, but it carved a gouge in his arm. He bit his lip and clenched his other hand to the wound.
“ You must FEEL where the objects will come from. Extend your mind. Otherwise, you will die.”
Rasta’s emotionless tones rang through the dojo. Stryke gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He tried to form a picture of the room in his mind. He tried to extend his senses outwards…
There. He felt a glimmer from one hole. A milli-second later, an iron ball shot out. Stryke flipped to the side, and something happened. The world faded in colour, briefly, to a shade of blue. It slowed, and he flipped twice more. When he stopped, the ball had just passed the spot where he had been. The other side of the room. He glanced around wildly, and behind the walls, Rasta smiled. Stryke breathed in again. This time he knew he could do it. Five balls shot out in tandem from the walls. Stryke ran forward, the world fading to blue around him. He rolled over one that was moving at a snail’s pace, and kicked another from the air, sending it deep into the wall. He flipped backwards, avoiding the spikes of the last three, and finished facing the door. Rasta opened in immediately. He was smiling broadly.
“ You are ready.”
“ For what?”
“ Your final test.”
Rasta turned and walked smartly away, heading for an ominous building.
“ Welcome, to the Masters Dojo.”
**
Rasta span, flipping a staff of wood into his hand from a rack. He pointed it at Stryke.
“ Choose your weapon.”
Stryke gulped, looking at the fearsome array of swords, axes and daggers behind him. He reached for a broadsword, then remembered something. He smiled, and picked up a thin, steel blade, etched with runes. He spun it a few times, nodded, and sheathed it. Then he turned to Rasta.
“ I will not fight you Master.”
Rasta tilted his head to on side, smiling slightly.
“ You will.”
Then he leapt, staff twisting in his hands, arching down for a blow to Stryke’s head. He whipped out the sword, slicing time with ease, blowing the blow. They battled across the room, leaping away from the spikes that covered the wall. Rasta locked up Stryke’s sword, then backhanded him across the room. Stryke turned the fall into a roll, and was up just in time to block a blow that would have caved his windpipe in. He spun his legs around, supporting his body on one arm, and took the legs out from under Rasta. He ran, slicing time thinner and thinner, forcing Rasta backwards. The Abbot balanced on one foot, arching the staff up to block a blow… that wasn’t there. Stryke executed a sweep, brought Rasta to his knees, spun, kicked the staff away, and pointed the sword at Rasta.
“ You are defeated, Master.” Said Stryke, blood dripping down his face. Rasta sighed.
“ It is said when a master cannot beat the apprentice, he is no longer the master. However..”
Rasta reached up and gripped on the sword blade. He tugged it towards him, forcibly pulling Stryke down to his level.
“ I am not the Master for nothing.”
He moved quicker than Stryke could see. Stryke ran, slicing time is desperation. But Rasta was too quick. Then a lightning fast flurry of blows hit him, paralysing his legs and arms. He flopped to the ground. Rasta appeared, on the other side of the dojo.
“ How did you..” began Stryke.
Rasta walked up, and showed his hands. They were uncut. He wasn’t even breathing heavily.
“ You lulled me into a false sense of security.” Groaned Stryke.
“ I let you believe you could beat me, therefore you beat me.” Rasta said, simply. Stryke groaned again. Rasta hit a few places on the soldier’s arms and legs, and Stryke was free. He stood up.
“ I guess my training must continue then Master.” He sighed.
“ Why? You are ready. You must go. Now. Time is running out.” Rasta turned and faced towards the window, brow furrowed. Stryke opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, sheathed the sword and ran from the room. Rasta crossed his legs, and mediated. When he was sure Stryke was gone, he held out his hands, grabbed a bandage from a cabinet, and looked at his palms. He nodded. They erupted with blood, along the lines where he had gripped the sword. He grimaced, and quickly tied the bandages over them. He bowed his head.
“ We have control over time. We cannot stop it.” He whispered, softly.
**
Reaper beckoned to the shadowy figure in front of him.
“ Whooo may not suceeed. I need you to do this for me. You can kill Stryke.”
“ I’ve had five years of training for it.” The figure snapped. The figure advanced towards the light. Insomnia gulped as a hardened face emerged. He gripped hard on his armrest.
“ Who is it?” whispered Grix.
“ It’s the end of us. Stryke’s death. Vottanator.”
Vottanator twisted his neck to and fro, revealing hideous scarring down one side of his face. He licked his lips, the chance to kill Stryke burning in his mind.
“ That Stryke has made some powerful enemies.” Whispered Grix.
“ Tell me about it. If I was that boy, I’d pray I got killed before either of those monsters reaches him.” Grunted Insomnia, sorrowfully.
**
Stryke drove the jeep purposefully, heading for a region of the Archive no-one really remembered any more. The realm of the Seven Towers. He didn’t know what he’d find there, only that Grix reckoned it was important. He hammered his fist on the side of the jeep, pictures of Whooo’s victory over him still bright in his mind. He wouldn’t let it stand. He squinted into the distance. Seven pillars of rock, outlining an ancient amphi-theatre were on the horizon. All the world is but a stage… mused Stryke as he floored the accelerator.
**
Stryke paced through the huge arch, out onto the sand. Emptiness. Echoes danced around the seven Towers as his feet crunched the ancient grains. He looked around, blade gripped lightly in one hand.
“ Welcome to our stage.” A voice flitted across the space. Stryke spun, handgun raised.
“ Why do you come to us?” another voice, deep and threatening. Stryke whirled round, his sword clenched tight. Then a figure stepped out from behind a pillar.
“ Once upon a time, there were 40,000 regulars here, cheering every movement of your sword.” He whispered, the theatre resounding the tones round the soldier.
“ Now, the winds of time howl only to the sand.” This time the voice came from behind him. He turned quickly. Nothing. He turned back. Two figures were in front of him, swarthed in black cloths. Stryke backed off, sword pointed at one, gun pointed at the other.
“ Oh, put it away Stryke. It’s insulting to think I haven’t anticipated your every move.” One said, grinning. Stryke nodded, slowly, lowering his weapons.
” Who are you?”
One chortled.
“ One of Nine.” It said. “ The only one left from a proud unit.” It unwrapped it’s bandages. Stryke grunted.
“ Sniper. Thought you were dead.”
“ So does everyone.” Sniper intoned. Stryke nodded at the other.
“ He is the desert spirit itself. He came for me, when I was lying on the battlefield. He is mischief personified. Meet Loki.”
Loki bowed, uttering no sound.
“ Why have you come to us?” asked Sniper, unmoving.
“ Grix told me.. Seven Towers.”
Loki turned to Sniper, and nodded. Sniper grunted, but turned and ran to the far side of the theatre, grabbing a long box that lay there. He sprinted back, holding it out before him. Loki snapped the lid open, withdrawing a long, thin sword of silver.
“ You have there one of the Time Swords. That Rasta let you have it is no accident. This is the other. They were meant for someone to wield. I hope that it you.” Said Loki, in a deep, fiery voice.
Stryke withdrew his sword, and grasped the hilt of the other, his mouth wide in wonder. Then he spun them around and sheathed them on his back. He turned to thank Loki, but the mysterious stranger erupted in a shower of sand. Stryke held a hand over his mouth, choking, then Sniper was before him.
“ You could come back with me, Sniper.” Stryke offered, knowing the answer.
“ I cannot. My place is here. I am cannot leave.” He leant forward, smiling. “ Both swords are not meant for you. You will know.”
Then he vanished, not in a cloud of sand, but with the guile of a trained warrior. Stryke shook his head sadly. The Notables were truly gone. He turned and trudged back to the jeep. Now for Iguana. She had to be out there.
**
The fire blazed. Stryke threw more wood onto it, rubbing his hands together. He was at the edge of the Chatlands, about to cross over into the Wilderness. He looked into the shadows, grimacing. He stood up, intending to grab some more firewood. Then something rose out of the woodpile, fist arching out. Stryke reeled backwards, eyes questing for what had hit him. A figure twirled nunchaku around in his hands. He thrust his face into the firelight.
“ Remember me?” he snarled.
Stryke open his mouth and screamed. The figure from his nightmares had appeared. He scrabbled backwards, panting in fear.
“ My God! Vottanator!”
“ It wasn’t God who gave me this face, Stryke. It was you, throwing me from that tower.”
Stryke gasped for air, but his hatred of Vottanator was still there.
“ You expect me to feel sorry for you?” he growled.
“ No Stryke, I expected you to die for me!”
“ But…but… I killed you!”
“ You’d be amazed how much punishment the body can sustain. Oh, I survived Stryke. I have been training for this moment.”
Then Stryke shoved himself up from the ground, swords flashing out of their sheathes. He sliced time as he ran, whirling the blades round.
“ You will die. And this time, I will not miss!” he yelled. Vottenator just stood there, an amused look on his face. Then he turned, whirling one nuchuck round the hilt of Stryke’s sword. He tugged, sending it clattering to the ground. The other snapped closed round Stryke’s leg, causing him to shout in pain as the chains dug into his leg. He slammed back down, head near the fire. Vottanator leapt forward grabbing Stryke’s face, forcing it down towards the fire.
“ Everytime you look in the mirror, you will see MY face!” roared Vottanator, blood pounding behind his eyes. He felt righteous, vengeful. Stryke felt the heat on his cheek, felt his flesh begin to char. Then an outraged roar came from the darkness, and Whooo materialised, moving faster than ever, crashing into Vottanator.
“ HE IS MINE TO KILL!” yelled Whooo in outrage. He ploughed onwards. Stryke gasped and rolled sideways. He scrabbled around for his sword, but a foot crunched down on his palm. He yelped in pain, and looked up. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood there, sword clutched in his hand. Stryke grinned.
“ Lexus! Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Said Stryke, thankfully. Lexus didn’t smile.
“ I didn’t think I’d ever have to see you again. Let’s move. She wants to see you.”
Stryke knew who she was. Lexus was second in command of the Avengers. He would take him to Iguana. Lexus then hit Stryke hard on the back of the head, shoved him into a waiting jeep, and screeched off. Vottanator and Whooo still fought each other in the increasing darkness.
**
Vottanator howled in rage. He picked up Whooo and threw him into the fire. Whooo screamed in pain and leapt out.
“ WE ARE BOTH WORKING FOR REAPER!” Vottanator yelled, Uzi pointed straight at the Banned One. Whooo fell silent, head hung low.
“ Thanks to YOU, he got away.” Grunted Vottanator. “ Come on. Next time, we will kill him. Together.” He swung his nunchuka onto his back and strode off into the darkness, Whooo running to catch up.
**
Lexus was silent as the jeep pounded through the Wilderness, crunching over skulls and breaking down rotting trees. Stryke cleaned his sword, tended his wounds, then tried to speak to Lexus.
“ How did you..” he began.
“ She has her sources.” Replied Lexus curtly.
“ Oh. Why does she..” tried Stryke again.
“ Revenge.” Lexus said, a smile curling his lip. At this Stryke fell silent.
“ I’m a prisoner, aren’t I?” he questioned.
“ Certainly. Sentenced to death, I’d imagine.” Lexus said. Then he turned towards Stryke, anger visible in his eyes. “ You left us. You, who was scarred by a Banned One and had your closest friend murdered by Reaper.”
“ It was over Lexus. Think about why you joined. I was there, remember, fighting with you, at the battle?”
Lexus stared ahead into the wilderness, eyes hard…
**
Five years ago…
Lexus clashed his sword with a newbie, yelling his fury, then spun his axe round to cleave it in half. He turned, his brother Cooky and his friend Torax back to back with him. They worked smoothly, cleaving away at the mass of newbies. Then Lexus hesitated, glaring across at a clear area of the battlefield, and saw a friend of his on the ground, with a Banned One over him.
“ STRYKE!” yelled Lexus. He ran into the mob, sword and axe flying, cutting down newbies. Cooky and Torax ran with him, defending the running veteran. Lexus was hit down, his view obscured. Then he heard a piercing scream. He bit his lip and heaved himself to his feet. Whooo was being pulled back, blood pouring from a shoulder wound. Lexus cheered, and yelled his approval at Stryke, who heard, and turned, grinning. He face froze, he yelled something, and began to run towards Lexus. The soldier turned swiftly. Cooky was walking towards him, smiling. Then Torax rose from the ground, throwing axe positioned in his hand. Lexus’s eyes hardened, and he began to run, shouting warnings to Cooky. He turned to Torax, but the axe had left the traitor’s hand. It churned into Cooky, cleaving his heart. He fell backwards, and Lexus skidded to a halt, catching him. Cooky’s eyes rolled, his breathing was ragged.
“ No..” whispered Lexus softly. Cooky, smiled weakly, but with warmth. Then his eyes closed, and he sighed softly. Lexus laid the body down carefully, wiping away the tears welling in his eyes. Stryke ran up.
“ Damn.” Said the soldier, teeth gritted. Lexus leapt to his feet.
“ TORAX!!!” he screamed, but the newbie’s ranks had closed around the betrayer, shielding him. Lexus began to run forward, but Stryke grabbed him.
“ Lexus, no! It’s too dangerous. They’ll be another time. You hear me? They’ll be ANOTHER TIME!”
Lexus struggled wildly, not heeding the words. He shouted like a wild thing. Stryke shook his head, then landed a massive punch to Lexus’s jaw. He collapsed.
**
Lexus clenched his fists as he drove.
“ Torax is still out there, Stryke. You swore you’d help me find him. Just like you promised Iguana you’d help find Reaper. You let us all down, man. And I trusted you. We all trusted you.”
Lexus swivelled back to the road, eyes tight.
“ We’ll be there soon. Get ready.”
“ For what?”
Lexus grinned, without humour. “ The last fight of your life, army man.”
**
The jeep skidded to a halt in the middle of a camp. Skulls hung from wooden posts, and dark shapes moved in the gloom, always watching. It was almost dawn now, and thin rays of light were illuminating the camp. One such ray landed on the face of Iguana, and she walked slowly up to Stryke. She pulled a nail down his cheek, leaving a thin streak of blood. She laughed.
“ The mighty Major Stryke, Protector of all Digiveridia. Why did you return to the FOG?”
Stryke stared right into her eyes. “ It was the job we were chosen for.”
Iguana laughed again, pacing up and down.
“ I wonder, have you lost your touch? Become weak in the FOG?” She clapped once, and both her and Lexus ran into the tents, sealing them. Stryke reached up and withdrew one sword, taking up a combat stance. He looked around the camp, breathing slowly and calmly. He was ready. Then two newbies charged at him from the nearest tent. He leapt, slicing time slowly, swinging his sword round. He cleaved through one’s neck, sending the head rolling. He landed, and parried a blow from the club the other one wielded. He jumped, letting a clumsy blow pass harmlessly under his feet. He felt anger surge through him. How dare Iguana do this to him? He dropped the sword, and ran swiftly behind the newbie, grabbed its neck, and twisted. The sharp click resounded around the camp, and Stryke let the corpse fall. He flipped over, picking his sword up and pointed it at Iguana’s tent. She emerged, carrying a sword.
“ Let’s do this.” She said, softly. Stryke grinned and ran at Iguana, leaping high, sword held out. They clashed, sending sparks flying. Avengers ran through the camp, yelling at each other.
“ Stryke’s back! Iguana’s fighting him!” They leapt from guard posts, erupted from sleep, and crowded round in a circle as they fought.
The swords went faster and faster, clashing high, low, side to side as each sought for an opening. Then it happened. Stryke send Iguana’s sword flying and her backwards. She grinned.
“ I told you once you can never defeat me. Let’s see what you can do hand to hand.”
Before Stryke could speak, she had blurred, kicking his sword away and landing a boot in his stomach. The Avengers were silent. Some still harboured loyalty to Stryke. He ran and flipped backwards, narrowly avoiding a cutting blow from Iguana. He stopped, and raised his hands in a pose taught to him by Rasta. Iguana nodded her head in approval, then sliced time to enagage. Stryke did the same, parrying her blows, landing his own. They fought back and to, then Iguana gained an opening. He feigned a high blow, then jabbed at the weak knee-joint. Stryke staggered slightly, and that gave her the opening. She placed the kick perfectly, throwing Stryke’s body out of the camp and into the Wilderness. Lexus grinned. She was killing him. Stryke skidded along the ground, slamming into a rock. He groaned, coughing up blood. Iguana began to walk to his sword, when Stryke rose slowly to his feet. He extended a hand outwards, and beckoned to Iguana. She sighed, walking back towards him.
“ You should have walked when you felt the heat around the corner, Stryke.” A voice hissed from behind the rock. Stryke leapt backwards, drawing the sword Loki had given him. He ran backwards towards Iguana, flipping it to her.
“ Later, Iguana. This is now.”
She nodded, and ran back towards the camp. The Avengers were already arming up, as a band of newbies ran over the hill, led by Whooo. Vottanator leapt out from behind the rock, but didn’t attack, he just stood there, aloof. Stryke grabbed his sword, whirled around, and took up position next to Lexus.
“ Just like old times, eh?” grinned Stryke, encouragingly. Lexus allowed himself a slight smile, then he focused on the battle. The newbies hit, forcing the Avengers deep into the camp. Stryke fell backwards, turning the fall into a throw, and sent a newbie onto a sharp wooden spike. He turned, cleaving off the legs of another. He slammed his hilt into one, doubling it up. He thrust his sword deep into its eye, then turned. Lexus was being forced backwards. Five newbies encircled him. Stryke yelled, and launched himself into the attack, cutting down one before they even saw him coming. He fought his way through, but Lexus was on the ground, newbie plunging an axe towards his skull. Stryke threw his sword overarm, scything through the newbie at the midriff. He smiled encouragingly at Lexus, who managed to swing his sword round to kill another newbie, and then smile back. Stryke turned back to the battle, but two newbies bulled into him, shoving him into the back areas of the camp. He struggled, and they dumped him in a deserted area. Stryke quickly cut them in half, but a voice came from the darkness.
“ Vottanator won’t come in here. The Newbies detect a regular by the smell. They’d attack him. Which means…”
Whooo walked out, holding a mace in each of his four arms.
“ I’ve got you all to myself.” Grimaced Stryke. He rose the sword to defence position. Whooo clashed his maces together, and threw one. Stryke dodged it by slicing, and then the attack was joined…
**
Stryke dodged the vicious blow, and vaulted over Whooo’s head. Whooo flipped his three remaining maces over and over, swinging two swiftly towards Stryke, who brought his sword up swiftly, countering one, and deflecting another. Then Whooo slammed a knee up and into the back of Stryke, sending him crashing to the sand. Stryke’s eyes widened as Whooo slammed a mace towards his skull. He shoved upwards with both feet and arms, and he turned the force into a spin that carried him inches clear of the mace head. He steadied himself, and the fight was joined. They clashed over and over, the force of the mace countered by the speed of the sword. Then Whooo struck out with a foot, making Stryke’s ankle buckle. He grunted, and turned the fall into a roll. He leapt up, and was quickly on the offensive. He sliced through the handle of one mace, splintering the end into Whooo’s hand. The Banned One screamed in pain, and lashed out with another mace. Stryke couldn’t move quick enough. The heavy metal thudded into his side, splashing blood outwards. He groaned in pain, and sagged backwards, one hand clutched to his side. He felt the cloth of his shirt turning damp and warm. The blood was flowing too freely. He cast his eyes about, searching for an answer. There – a burning tent support. He limped over to it, eyes screwed up in pain. Then he thrust his sword into the fire, watching worriedly as Whooo picked splinters from his hand. Stryke turned back to the sword, and Whooo charged. The sword was glowing red, and he whipped it from the fire and pressed it hard against the wound. He screamed in pain as the hot metal cauterised the wound. The harsh smell of scorched flesh reached his nostrils, and then Whooo leapt, his two maces raised for the strike. Then Stryke span, slicing time thin, egged on by the pain. He sliced round with the burning sword, slitting the edge through Whooo’s stomach.
“ For Turbo!” yelled Stryke, and brought the sword round again, gashing a deep score across Whooo’s torso.
“ For Tony!” he yelled again, and lashed out diagonally with the sword, opening Whooo’s throat where Stryke had been scarred.
“ For me.” He whispered, and looked on as Whooo, trembling, raised his hands to his throat. Blood was bubbling out with increasing speed. He looked up imploringly at Stryke, his eyes wide. Stryke, for the first time, felt sorry for the pitiful being before him. He span, eyes set, and marched away, as Whooo’s corpse collapsed forward into the sand, a slow pool of russet spreading.
**
Iguana looked sorrowfully around at her camp when Stryke approached. Lexus stood by her, weeping.
“ This is all? The Avengers? All dead?” asked Stryke, incredulously.
Iguana nodded, slowly. Lexus pounded the earth with his fist. Stryke wiped his blade clean and sheathed it.
“ Now do you believe me?” asked Stryke, facing Iguana. She said nothing, but nodded slowly.
“ Then lets go.” Said Lexus, axe in his hand. He leapt into a jeep, and started it. The other two followed, and Iguana let out a sob as they screeched out of the camp riddled with bodies.
**
It was early evening, and the three were camped on the outskirts of Prime. Everyone was arming themselves. Stryke had two swords on his back, and another two at waist holsters. He checked the load and bullets of two machine guns, then rested them on the table. Lexus sat opposite him, a ring of throwing knifes belted around his waist.
“ Torax is there?” asked Lexus. Stryke nodded, still sighting along the barrel. He saw Iguana sitting on a rock, alone, staring at the distant Council citadel. Stryke whipped his fifth sword into a centre sheath, and walked over to Iguana. He leant against a rock, staring at the last rays of sunlight curving around the citadel.
“ You loved him.” Stryke muttered, holstering a pistol. Iguana shifted slowly to face him.
“ Why do we battle to save FOG Stryke? What makes it different from the Wilderness, or the fabled lands of EB?”
“ I have seen much of the rest of the world. It is dark and cold. FOG is the light!”
Iguana shifted again, facing the sunset.
“ Have you ever loved?” she asked, softly. Stryke slid down the rock.
“ There was one, a long time ago. Back home, before I joined the army. She was my world.”
“ What happened to her?”
**
Eight years ago…
Stryke smiled happily at the girl sat next to him. They leant against the massive oak tree on the edge of the field. The sun was high and bright, and they had sat there for hours, saying little, doing nothing. The leaves cast a dappled pattern over his face, and he knew this day would live forever in his memory, and the warmth he felt was nothing to do with the sunlight. He turned to her, mouth opening to ask the question, when an unholy roar erupted from the bushes. Stryke leapt to his feet as tattooed behemoths sprang up, primitive weapons brandished.
” [name], stay with me.” Yelled Stryke. “ They’re Newbies. Whatever comes at us, we will have a better chance if we stay together.”
But she was hysterical and ripped herself from his grasp, running towards the town. Stryke yelled in fear, but she ran on. Time seemed to slow, and Stryke skidded to a halt as the first spear thudded into her body. He ran up to her as another spear went through her ribs. She looked up at him, warmth in her eyes, and she reached up to touch his face gently.
” Go.” She whispered softly.
He held her close as the newbies came closer, then he sprang away and pelted for the woods, spears hitting the ground on either side of him.
**
He clenched his fists tight.
“ She was taken from you.”
Stryke nodded, and hit the rock, teeth gritted.
“ That is how I feel, every single day.” Said Iguana, her face set. “ He was taken from me, and I loved him!”
She turned away, facing towards the sunset.
**
The three crept slowly around the edges of the council hall, eyes tracking the many JATs lining the hall.
“ I’d estimate 30.” Said Stryke, back against the seat. Iguana nodded, and Lexus pointed.
“ There. Leading Reaper’s Guard. Torax.”
“ Now is not the time.” Said Stryke. “ Ready, Iguana?”
She nodded. They clasped hands.
“ Strength and honour.”
Then Iguana and Lexus rolled to the sides, whipping their guns up, shooting a wild burst over the heads of the trapped councillors. Stryke burst out from behind the seats, arms crossed over, machines guns roaring. Ranks of JATs fell, riddled with bullets. Stryke dropped the empty guns and flipped over to where Insomnia and Grix were bound. He rolled across, lashing out with a dagger. Their bindings fell, and Stryke whipped out his back mounted swords.
“ Here. Strength and honour.”
Then he rolled behind a seat and brought another gun into firing position. Iguana leapt out, two pistols held steady. A flurry of shots took down all but three of Reaper’s guard. Lexus charged forward. Torax grinned, an ugly smile. He waved at the two other guards, who grabbed Reaper and leapt behind a marble seat. Then Torax shed his jacket, drew an axe, and strode forward the meet Lexus. Stryke ran along the edge of the first floor and flipped down to the ground. A side door swung open, and Vottanator strode forward, flanked by a fresh squad of Newbies. Stryke gulped as they raised their guns, and he sprinted for the small window out onto the balcony. He dived forward as bullets churned up the marble, and he smashed through the pane. He rolled with the impact and leapt behind a pillar, twin pistols drawn. Vottanator kicked the door open, 6 newbies backing him. Stryke spun round from one pillar to the next, guns blazing. 4 newbies fell to the ground. Then two swords spun through the air, splicing into the newbies. Vottanator withdrew his nunchucks, grinning.
“ We are both professionals. This is personal.” He shouted, the sound echoing around the pillared room. Stryke stepped out, sword clutched double-handed. Vottanator grinned again, and charged.
**
As Lexus and Torax battled out of the room, Iguana was left in the silent hall. Grix and Insomnia looked to her, swords clutched. She beckoned to each side, sending them round the seat where Reaper hid. Then she showered the marble with bullets, decimating the chair. Then the hall fell silent again, for a moment. Two JATs erupted from behind the seat, angling for the two councillors. And Reaper sprang up, unarmed. He grinned at Iguana.
“ You should have heard your love squeal, as I cleaved his skull!” howled Reaper, his arms wide. Then Iguana spun her sword free from its sheath and vaulted down to the floor. She took up combat position, sword held out to the side.
“ You don’t want to die today, Reaper.” She growled.
“ You forget, I’m already dead!” he yelled in response.
“ Not dead enough for me.” Muttered Iguana, and then Reaper charged. No war-cry, just a simple blindingly fast movement, and he had kicked the sword from her hand. Another blow had sent her sprawling. Reaper walked forward, slowly.
**
Lexus slammed his foot into Torax’s leg. He swung the axe round, but Torax was too quick. In a shower of sparks he send the blow slamming into the wood frame of a door. Lexus tugged at it, but it was stuck tight. Torax smiled thinly, and swung his axe round, ready to make the blow. Quick as lightning, Lexus barrelled forward, slamming his shoulder into Torax’s stomach. The newbie doubled over, and his axe slipped from his hand. Lexus charged forward, and the pair went flying over a balcony and crashed into a deep pool. Torax spluttered for breath and shoved Lexus away, making for the bank. Lexus smiled in triumph. He pulled a throwing knife from his belt, sighting carefully. Then he threw, opening a deep wound in Torax’s back. Before the dying newbie could fall, Lexus was on him, pounding his fist over and over again into the face of his nemesis. The newbie died swiftly, but Lexus carried on punching, five years of hatred aimed directly at one fragile body.
**
Vottanator jumped as he ran, the nunchucks leaving his hands, spinning towards Stryke, who was forced to drop to the floor to avoid them, sheathing his sword. Then Vottanator swung a heavy boot, flipping Stryke over. He kicked again, the force throwing the soldier to his feet. He launched a punishing blow that sent Stryke skidding backwards across the marble. Vottanator laughed, a sadistic laugh.
“ You won’t leave this place. You will have to fight me to leave.”
Stryke raised his head shakily. “You would fight me?”
Vottanator snarled. “ You think I am afraid?”
“I think you have been afraid all of your life.”
Vottanator roared in outrage, and charged. But the brief distraction had been enough. Stryke swung his legs around, scoring two blows. He used the momentum to get back to his feet, and land a stinging uppercut that sent the mercenary into a pillar.
“ The Avengers are bloodied and cleaved. I will not believe they died for nothing! I’ll kill you for that!” Roared Stryke, pounding away.
Vottanator blocked a blow and used the force to shove Stryke backwards. He landed a roundhouse kick that sent the soldier reeling, and then dropkicked him square in the chest. Stryke gasped at the impact, and then gaped as Vottanator rolled and leapt from the three storey high room. He rushed to the edge and looked down. The mercenary was running into a ground floor opening to a tower.
“ Been there, done that.” Muttered Stryke, and raced across the ledge to the third floor opening. He jogged up to the top, to wait for his adversary. But as he emerged, Vottanator swung down from his perch atop the doorframe and kicked Stryke firmly in the back, sending him sprawling, but the veteran was too quick and leapt to his feet in time to a parry a sharp blow.
“ Have you ever felt a pain so powerful, so heavy you collapse?” asked Vottanator, as they locked arms.
“ Every day of my life.” Retorted Stryke, as he struggled to be free.
“ Then you know how much I need to kill you. I live only to kill you.”
“ What’s the point in living if you can’t feel alive, you scum?” yelled Stryke, and thrust his head forward, sending Vottanator backwards. Then he reached up and drew his sword, pointing it straight at Vottanator. The mercenary chortled, blood dripping down his forehead.
“ End of the line.” Snarled Stryke.
“ A man tires of being executed.” Vottanator grunted, hand pressed to his head. A silence fell upon them, deafening him.
Vottanator laughed. “ The silence before you strike?”
Stryke laughed as well, and then Vottanator launched himself forwards. Stryke whipped the sword round and through Vottenator. The mercenary looked up at Stryke, his eyes full of questions.
“ I….”
He slumped forward, and his head tumbled slowly across the platform. Stryke squatted onto his haunches, fatigue washing over him.
“ The silence before you strike?”
He stood, wiping his blade clean. He let the silence wash over him, cleansing him. Then he dashed down the tower, aiming for the sounds echoing from the main chamber.
**
Iguana got up shakily. Reaper stood over her.
“ We are but shadows and dust, Iguana, shadows and dust.”
He grabbed her and lifted her high, slamming her body against the wall.
“ At last I reveal myself to you. At last I have my revenge.” He reached and stroked her cheek softly. Then he span and hurled her forcibly into the marble. He laughed as she slid down the smooth stone, leaving a thin smear of blood.
“ You’re finished Reaper. Your army is scattered.” She groaned, still slumped at the bottom of the chair.
“ Let my men see me alive and you shall see where their loyalties lie.” He retorted, swinging a sword casually from hand to hand.
Iguana groaned again. Her vision was going hazy. She focused, willing her mind to help.
**
Rasta’s eyes snapped open. He leapt from his mediation and out the door, slicing time thinner and thinner.
She needed him.
**
Reaper pointed a finger at Iguana, anger suddenly rising within him. Then the door smashed open and lexus and Stryke ran into the room, skidding to a halt at the sign of Reaper standing with a sword in his hand. Reaper grinned, showing long fangs. Lexus attacked first, his axe moving swiftly. Reaper hardly moved, but the axe embedded itself in Lexus’s neck, and the Avenger toppled forward. Iguana sobbed softly into her hand as the corpse dripped blood down into a bullet-hole. Reaper leapt forward, beckoning to Stryke, the sword now in his hand. Stryke grimaced. He knew he was going to die. Iguana raised a hand, trying to stop him. Then Stryke attacked, sword blurring.
Reaper countered every attack calmly, not even breaking a sweat. With one flick he disarmed Stryke, but the soldier executed a smooth flip and kicked Reapers sword away. Iguana looked suddenly at Stryke’s sword as it skidded to a halt near her hand. Reaper inclined his head slightly in admiration. Then Insomnia and Grix leapt out from behind a chunk of marble, swords raised. Reaper flipped round, causing the swords to appear in his hands. He swung idly, beheading the former notable and the veteran councillor. Stryke cursed, blood soaking his hair. He punched at Reaper, slicing time to meet with the newbie leader, ever more desperate, as Reaper calmly flicked away incoming blows.
Then Reaper moved faster, and he had one arm locking Stryke’s arms behind his back, and another tight under his chin. Stryke grimaced, his vertebrae clicking slowly.
“ You hear that, Mr Stryke? That is the sound of your impending doom. The future is our place, it is my time.”
Stryke gargled, blood rising in his throat.
“ Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.” He laughed slowly, fate accepted.
Reaper smiled broadly, then bent down and whispered in Stryke’s ear.
“ You are beneath me.”
He thrust upwards. Stryke’s neck cracked out loud, and Reaper stepped backwards, a look of disgust on his face. He let go, and the body crumpled to the ground. Iguana yelled and rose both swords. Reaper rolled over, picking up his own sword and facing Iguana. Sparks flew to the ground and over the four corpses as they battled, Reaper grinning all the line. He locked swords and leant close to Iguana, smiling into her eyes. Then she threw him backwards, but he was too quick. He thrust his sword though her hand and yelled out, dropping the sword. She brought the other one across, but a kick disposed of that. He twisted the sword, forcing her backwards. She spluttered, hand scrabbling behind her.
“ You are going to die, Iguana.” He whispered.
She grinned. “ I once knew a man who said death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.”
“ So you will smile merrily as a carve your heart from your chest.”
She shook her head. “ I’m not a man.” She brought her hand around from behind her, pistol clutched in it. He didn’t say anything as the cold metal pressed against his forehead. Knowing what would happen, he whipped the sword out of her hand and towards her heart.
“ Dodge this.” She intoned, and sent a slug deep into Reaper’s brain, knowing it was too late. His sword cut through her chest, sending a spray of blood outwards. As Reaper’s corpse collapsed to the ground, and he looked up at her, blood frothing from the wound.
“ Shadows and du…”
She slumped backwards. The window exploded in shards of glass. Rasta plunged through. His face sank as he saw Iguana lying in a pool of her own blood. He rushed over, cradling her in his arms. She was barely moving.
“ You can see him.” He smiled, tears running down his cheeks. “ Go to him.”
Iguana smiled up, and then her eyes clouded and she sighed slowly.
**
Rasta stood alone on the outskirts of the WLT Abbey. He held the twin swords that Iguana and Stryke had carried. He thrust them into soft soil by the newest graves. He looked out, over the now safe FOG lands.
“ Now we are free. I will see you again, my friends.” He gathered his robes around him, and turned towards the Abbey, looking over the crops needing to be harvested.
“ But not yet. Not yet.”