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A group met in conference in the hall of the arcane which rested between the multivariable pockets of the multiverse. 24 seats were around a large table, Only 23 of which were filled.
“Gentlemen and ladies you know why we are gathered here today,” said the empress grimly.
“Indeed mr sun knows, isn’t that right mr moon my chum?”
“It is Mr Sun, a dire day indeed for us!”
“I’ve fought the pussy before has he gotten that powerful?” asked the devil
“Indeed Mr Xion….he has gotten much more powerful since you last faced him,” sighed the empress.
“Yeah powering up an imbalanced psychopath….not one of our finer moments,” sighed the fool
“Watch your place,” muttered the devil angrily
“Oh yeah I forgot we let in you and yer hardly sane!” laughed the fool who then had to duck from a simultaneous fire and ice blast.
“Our newest inductee can show you what has happened Matt!”
Copymatts walked in with a small crying orb, there was something wrong with matt though.
“Please refer to me by my arcanA name during business please with due respect of course my lady,”
“That is my fault, please begin wheel,”
“. As you know we have long had indigo prime bugged for our purposes in order to find threats to our group. Today we found a threat from within,”
“we know that Matt,” moaned Xion as Matt gave him a dark look and just flicked the footage onto a huge screen in front of them.
FOOTAGE BEGINS…
A tattered cloak whistles in the wind as it picks up around the ebony figure. A hand is outstretched from the being as a black twirl in the air before it forms into a scythe in its palm. The so-called Crescent Blade of the Moon, a key crafted by the Quintessence (Zeus, Shazam, Ganthet, Izaya, and as yet revealed fifth) to be used to pierce reality and bend time in order to save the multiverse, or so it was intended. Where there were six Darklings now there are small twirls that fade into nothing.
“Impressive, but I have oh so many darlings to take their place.”
A smirk flashes across the face of the glasses-laden face of the enemy when the ground swells and contorts to give birth to dozens of Darklings. The Reaper, or Death as he may very well now be, remains unmoved as seven figures appear around him and the shadow opponents shriek into nothingness. The Surgeon frowns as the ground shakes and air shimmers as reality erupts with hundreds of Darklings stream like unleashed rivers towards the group. The Legend crash into this all-encompassing stream and cut a swath to the Surgeon with Death in its center, merely floating toward his target.
The Surgeon looks down briefly before again facing forward with a maniacal grin that touches from ear to ear. Crossing his arms before him, scalpels emerge from between his fingers.
“Oh well, I was growing bored anyway. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
Arms slice the air in white flashes as they spring forward and darts of light fling towards Death but pass through him to strike down Darklings behind him. The black mass of tattered cloth continues to glide forward, lowering the scythe and dragging it against the ground. The Surgeon continues to laugh and smile as scalpels stack upon each other in his right hand and forms into a makeshift whip. The edged ribbon twirls forward in a white cyclone as the scythe greets it. Death's polearm is torn from him and flies upward into the sun but as the man in white looks forward, its master is gone. Feeling a weight on the whip, Surgeon looks up into the sun as the scythe still attached to the whip flies toward him in the hands of his opponent. The villain barely escapes its crash which sends the ground in upheaval. Forming an oval shield on his left arm, the Surgeon screams as he lashes at the immense cloud of dust before him. A massive sword's tip springs from it and narrowly misses the rogue's head as it scrapes on his shield. Grunting, the whip is shook stiff into a massive spear as its wielder flies backward creating a sonic boom and stabbing his weapon forward faster than the human eye can follow. It is met with clangor as arms wielding katana spring from the sides of Death and parry the blows. Raising the massive sword, Bankotsu's zanbato Banryu, in his right hand, his left is raised as the nodachi Monohoshi Zao of Sasaki Kojiro (rival to Miyamoto Musashi) bolts out from the palm appearing as a cross. The katana, Masamune and Muramasa, are held forward and back in defense as the arms move to the gut and back. Death spins as the spear sparks against the shielding blades while the outstretched edged twister bites at the man in white. Surgeon swings his arms before him as his weapons reform into wings that push away his attacker and he rockets upward, turning to rain a flurry of scalpels from metal wings on the dark clad warrior. Their target bursts like an imploding black hole that explodes above the silver streaking menace. He twirls into a cascading whirlwind of scalpels while two scimitar, one with a crackling mist and other popping ablaze, join Death's four swords that swat away the small knives.
“Double dollar day at the sword shop?”
The Surgeon cackles as the wings turn into massive arm guards that stretch down his arms forming massive whips at their ends. His cries and movements like a chanting dervish, Death is held at bay at a distance as all he can manage is to parry the mad assault of telekinetically held scalpels charged with energy threatening to create atrophy in his cells. What appears as a strike that slices Death in twain instead emerges a pair of dark warriors to fight the man in white.
“I can play that game too!”
A Surgeon with bladed arms blasts from the original's chest to stab at the new opponent.
All the while, the entire area is awash with movement. A seeming endless army of Darklings pop from nothing and are met with Death's personal guard. Nightingale skips from delivering blows on targets like a leaf fluttering on the wind while the green and red giant Hachiman gleefully smashes into his enemies with his ax and blasting opponents that try to flee his slaughter. Biotronix and Moriarty are back to back unleashing blasts of energy that seem to disintegrate every shadow they strike. Utan Oran the Wildman and Trample Jack make a game groundside of how many enemies they strike down (Oran leads by 11 without any help from his fairy Maribelle). Angelic wings outstretched, Etrana the mage remains grounded as she unleashes firestorms, lightning bolts, and rays of light that cut down Darklings by the dozens.
Dozens of black-shrouded Deaths and white-adorned Surgeons battle in air and on ground. A black swordsman crashes a zanbato into the ground as the maniacal glasses-worn man in white leaps and rains scalpels on him. Lightsabre meets glowing long sword in the air as a duel of wills and wits matches the flaring blades.
“You've become stronger; we're almost evenly matched. Almost!”
A Jumonji yari tip pokes at Death's throat as two katana form an X to keep its fatal bite at bay.
“No comebacks? When did you become Batman and I become the Joker?! Ha ha ha ha!”
DEath hums into a screech as a spear springs from his mouth and cuts the brow of its target. Surgeon kicks off the handguards of the swords to spin with his right hand pointed with two fingers outstretched and thumb upright as blasts of energy whiz towards his cloaked nemesis from them.
“Mind bullets! Get it? Pew, pew!”
Moving with lightning speed to avoid the attack, Death turns his arm into a dragon head and neck and snaps at Surgeon catching him in its jaws. A white flash and the Surgeon streaks down with an ax cutting off the dragon as it turns into another Death.
“Getting real old!”
The Surgeon flies up like a rocket as he's joined by his clones. Forming a circle, they spin at great speeds with energy blasts and scalpels to form a cone of flashing destruction. As the dust up clears, a single Death kneels on the ground directly below the hovering white-clad combatants. They lower surrounding him, though his swords are impaled in the earth around their master save for the lightsabre. One Surgeon steps forward.
“Finally giving in, ole boy?”
Formerly belonging to Darth Vader, the lightsabre hums to life as a cylinder of glaring red erects from its handle. The swords shake as the laser-bladed weapon is raised to his mouth like a harmonica. As the handle goes into his mouth, the swords fly up while arms emerge from the elbows and sides of Death to grasp them. Faces appears on both sides of the head when the cowl is pulled back and tongues lash out to grab the scimitars pulling them into his rows of teeth. He poses as Shiva before the Samhara Tandava while the Surgeon looks ahead perplexed. Some force comes first, acting as a vacuum as the Surgeons are pulled inward. Before they can react, the ground cracks and chunks of earth come towards them like a tide. Turning, they see a world of crescent lines coming toward them in place of Death. Pops follow small implosions of white as a single bloodied Surgeon crouches before the nine-sword wielding opponent. The swords of El Cid, Tizon and Colada, lower and cross as a scissor before the man in white.
“You think you've beaten me?”
The low growl comes from the seeming immobile villain who flashes back and rises, his wounds regenerating upon themselves; blood dribbling down his face receding into the wound and stitching shut, cuts about the body seal as the clothes themselves join them. Cracking his neck, he grimaces but it maddeningly bows upward and teeth show into a menacing beast on the prowl. Pushing his glasses on his face with his right middle finger such that the lenses glow white before taking his hand to brush his hair back, his body glows white as a circle of energy forms around him on the ground and erupt into a cylinder of energy. He screams as he bursts with power, waves of energy pushing back Death while engulfing him in white.
“Can you feel it?! The power?! Cosmic power culled from the very universe and funnelled into your destruction! I don't care if I destroy this whole world, this whole galaxy! If you're dead, then I'll be free of you and what's left will be mine!”
A group met in conference in the hall of the arcane which rested between the multivariable pockets of the multiverse. 24 seats were around a large table, Only 23 of which were filled.
“Gentlemen and ladies you know why we are gathered here today,” said the empress grimly.
“Indeed mr sun knows, isn’t that right mr moon my chum?”
“It is Mr Sun, a dire day indeed for us!”
“I’ve fought the pussy before has he gotten that powerful?” asked the devil
“Indeed Mr Xion….he has gotten much more powerful since you last faced him,” sighed the empress.
“Yeah powering up an imbalanced psychopath….not one of our finer moments,” sighed the fool
“Watch your place,” muttered the devil angrily
“Oh yeah I forgot we let in you and yer hardly sane!” laughed the fool who then had to duck from a simultaneous fire and ice blast.
“Our newest inductee can show you what has happened Matt!”
Copymatts walked in with a small crying orb, there was something wrong with matt though.
“Please refer to me by my arcanA name during business please with due respect of course my lady,”
“That is my fault, please begin wheel,”
“. As you know we have long had indigo prime bugged for our purposes in order to find threats to our group. Today we found a threat from within,”
“we know that Matt,” moaned Xion as Matt gave him a dark look and just flicked the footage onto a huge screen in front of them.
FOOTAGE BEGINS…
A tattered cloak whistles in the wind as it picks up around the ebony figure. A hand is outstretched from the being as a black twirl in the air before it forms into a scythe in its palm. The so-called Crescent Blade of the Moon, a key crafted by the Quintessence (Zeus, Shazam, Ganthet, Izaya, and as yet revealed fifth) to be used to pierce reality and bend time in order to save the multiverse, or so it was intended. Where there were six Darklings now there are small twirls that fade into nothing.
“Impressive, but I have oh so many darlings to take their place.”
A smirk flashes across the face of the glasses-laden face of the enemy when the ground swells and contorts to give birth to dozens of Darklings. The Reaper, or Death as he may very well now be, remains unmoved as seven figures appear around him and the shadow opponents shriek into nothingness. The Surgeon frowns as the ground shakes and air shimmers as reality erupts with hundreds of Darklings stream like unleashed rivers towards the group. The Legend crash into this all-encompassing stream and cut a swath to the Surgeon with Death in its center, merely floating toward his target.
The Surgeon looks down briefly before again facing forward with a maniacal grin that touches from ear to ear. Crossing his arms before him, scalpels emerge from between his fingers.
“Oh well, I was growing bored anyway. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
Arms slice the air in white flashes as they spring forward and darts of light fling towards Death but pass through him to strike down Darklings behind him. The black mass of tattered cloth continues to glide forward, lowering the scythe and dragging it against the ground. The Surgeon continues to laugh and smile as scalpels stack upon each other in his right hand and forms into a makeshift whip. The edged ribbon twirls forward in a white cyclone as the scythe greets it. Death's polearm is torn from him and flies upward into the sun but as the man in white looks forward, its master is gone. Feeling a weight on the whip, Surgeon looks up into the sun as the scythe still attached to the whip flies toward him in the hands of his opponent. The villain barely escapes its crash which sends the ground in upheaval. Forming an oval shield on his left arm, the Surgeon screams as he lashes at the immense cloud of dust before him. A massive sword's tip springs from it and narrowly misses the rogue's head as it scrapes on his shield. Grunting, the whip is shook stiff into a massive spear as its wielder flies backward creating a sonic boom and stabbing his weapon forward faster than the human eye can follow. It is met with clangor as arms wielding katana spring from the sides of Death and parry the blows. Raising the massive sword, Bankotsu's zanbato Banryu, in his right hand, his left is raised as the nodachi Monohoshi Zao of Sasaki Kojiro (rival to Miyamoto Musashi) bolts out from the palm appearing as a cross. The katana, Masamune and Muramasa, are held forward and back in defense as the arms move to the gut and back. Death spins as the spear sparks against the shielding blades while the outstretched edged twister bites at the man in white. Surgeon swings his arms before him as his weapons reform into wings that push away his attacker and he rockets upward, turning to rain a flurry of scalpels from metal wings on the dark clad warrior. Their target bursts like an imploding black hole that explodes above the silver streaking menace. He twirls into a cascading whirlwind of scalpels while two scimitar, one with a crackling mist and other popping ablaze, join Death's four swords that swat away the small knives.
“Double dollar day at the sword shop?”
The Surgeon cackles as the wings turn into massive arm guards that stretch down his arms forming massive whips at their ends. His cries and movements like a chanting dervish, Death is held at bay at a distance as all he can manage is to parry the mad assault of telekinetically held scalpels charged with energy threatening to create atrophy in his cells. What appears as a strike that slices Death in twain instead emerges a pair of dark warriors to fight the man in white.
“I can play that game too!”
A Surgeon with bladed arms blasts from the original's chest to stab at the new opponent.
All the while, the entire area is awash with movement. A seeming endless army of Darklings pop from nothing and are met with Death's personal guard. Nightingale skips from delivering blows on targets like a leaf fluttering on the wind while the green and red giant Hachiman gleefully smashes into his enemies with his ax and blasting opponents that try to flee his slaughter. Biotronix and Moriarty are back to back unleashing blasts of energy that seem to disintegrate every shadow they strike. Utan Oran the Wildman and Trample Jack make a game groundside of how many enemies they strike down (Oran leads by 11 without any help from his fairy Maribelle). Angelic wings outstretched, Etrana the mage remains grounded as she unleashes firestorms, lightning bolts, and rays of light that cut down Darklings by the dozens.
Dozens of black-shrouded Deaths and white-adorned Surgeons battle in air and on ground. A black swordsman crashes a zanbato into the ground as the maniacal glasses-worn man in white leaps and rains scalpels on him. Lightsabre meets glowing long sword in the air as a duel of wills and wits matches the flaring blades.
“You've become stronger; we're almost evenly matched. Almost!”
A Jumonji yari tip pokes at Death's throat as two katana form an X to keep its fatal bite at bay.
“No comebacks? When did you become Batman and I become the Joker?! Ha ha ha ha!”
DEath hums into a screech as a spear springs from his mouth and cuts the brow of its target. Surgeon kicks off the handguards of the swords to spin with his right hand pointed with two fingers outstretched and thumb upright as blasts of energy whiz towards his cloaked nemesis from them.
“Mind bullets! Get it? Pew, pew!”
Moving with lightning speed to avoid the attack, Death turns his arm into a dragon head and neck and snaps at Surgeon catching him in its jaws. A white flash and the Surgeon streaks down with an ax cutting off the dragon as it turns into another Death.
“Getting real old!”
The Surgeon flies up like a rocket as he's joined by his clones. Forming a circle, they spin at great speeds with energy blasts and scalpels to form a cone of flashing destruction. As the dust up clears, a single Death kneels on the ground directly below the hovering white-clad combatants. They lower surrounding him, though his swords are impaled in the earth around their master save for the lightsabre. One Surgeon steps forward.
“Finally giving in, ole boy?”
Formerly belonging to Darth Vader, the lightsabre hums to life as a cylinder of glaring red erects from its handle. The swords shake as the laser-bladed weapon is raised to his mouth like a harmonica. As the handle goes into his mouth, the swords fly up while arms emerge from the elbows and sides of Death to grasp them. Faces appears on both sides of the head when the cowl is pulled back and tongues lash out to grab the scimitars pulling them into his rows of teeth. He poses as Shiva before the Samhara Tandava while the Surgeon looks ahead perplexed. Some force comes first, acting as a vacuum as the Surgeons are pulled inward. Before they can react, the ground cracks and chunks of earth come towards them like a tide. Turning, they see a world of crescent lines coming toward them in place of Death. Pops follow small implosions of white as a single bloodied Surgeon crouches before the nine-sword wielding opponent. The swords of El Cid, Tizon and Colada, lower and cross as a scissor before the man in white.
“You think you've beaten me?”
The low growl comes from the seeming immobile villain who flashes back and rises, his wounds regenerating upon themselves; blood dribbling down his face receding into the wound and stitching shut, cuts about the body seal as the clothes themselves join them. Cracking his neck, he grimaces but it maddeningly bows upward and teeth show into a menacing beast on the prowl. Pushing his glasses on his face with his right middle finger such that the lenses glow white before taking his hand to brush his hair back, his body glows white as a circle of energy forms around him on the ground and erupt into a cylinder of energy. He screams as he bursts with power, waves of energy pushing back Death while engulfing him in white.
“Can you feel it?! The power?! Cosmic power culled from the very universe and funnelled into your destruction! I don't care if I destroy this whole world, this whole galaxy! If you're dead, then I'll be free of you and what's left will be mine!”
