The Scramble [Complete]

[Magus]

“Yes, welcome to the Omniverse. I am Thrall, servant of King Arthur of the Kingdom of Camelot,” he said. Thrall spoke in a rumbling basso voice, and seemed to be distrustfully eyeing the one-eyed man.

“And I am Bradley,” spoke the commander. “Sometimes ‘King’ Bradley, but it is a term of endearment only, I assure you,” he said with a smile. Magus’ frown returned. This man was a snake; a spinner of stories. Already, he didn’t trust him. “Servant of Emperor Palpatine of Coruscant.”

“You are a Prime, a gifted individual summoned to the Omniverse by Omni himself. As you already know, that makes you… unique here,” Thrall rumbled. “You’ve not used Omnilium yet, have you?”

Magus hesitated to answer, so the storyteller spoke again. “It’s true what Omni told you. With Omnilium, you can simply will whatever you desire into existence. It can take anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, depending on what you wish to summon, but you can manifest virtually anything, from a cup of coffee to a palace, providing you have enough Omnilium, of course.”

Magus allowed the slightest inclination of his head to indicate acknowledgement, and lazily raised his right arm to his side, closing his eyes in concentration. He’d wrought the most intricate magics, but he’d never attempted to sublimate raw materials before.

Still, he focused on what he wanted; a relatively simple object in the grand scheme of things, if Bradley was to be believed. Sure enough, after a few minutes, he felt a tangible sensation in his open palm, and latched onto it, redoubling his effort.

In moments, he opened his eyes, and looked upon the enormous scythe he’d conjured into his hand with an air of indifference. His distant, calculating eyes regarded the weapon that had literally appeared out of thin air with the same cold disinterest he might have had for finding a piece of forgotten change in a pocket.

“You see? This world is a wonderfully fascinating place,” Bradley spread his arms wide as if to emphasize the point. Magus was not impressed at his bravado. In truth, he much preferred Thrall’s guarded sensibilities; at least with him, the spellcaster knew he wasn’t being actively manipulated.

He exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them with an indifferent stare, sweeping it from one ‘ambassador’ to the other. “So, what is the meaning of all this, then? Why do enemies with armed guards sit across one another, waiting to chat up newcomers to this place?”

“Excuse me-” Bradley started, but Thrall cut him off with a belly laugh.

“This one is clever,” he declared. “Yes, it does seem strange. We represent two different kingdoms whose leaders… are no longer fond of each other. We are both here to recruit Primes such as yourself to our respective causes.”

“Coruscant can provide you with luxury and wealth, and the most fascinating technology you could possibly imagine,” Bradley interrupted, and then added with obvious disdain, “Camelot will provide you with horses and hovels.”

“Horses, hovels, and honor,” Thrall corrected. “You’ll live lavishly in Coruscant, of that I have no doubt, but you will do so in an oppressive police-state. In Camelot, you will be free to be your own man with your own ambitions.”

“Enough,” Magus murmured.

“What did you-”

“Enough!” he snarled. His frigid, crimson eyes flared hot with anger. “I have had both of the lifestyles you offer me. I have seen what your civilizations have to offer and a dozen more. You each want me to pledge fealty to you, and what have either of you to offer me? An eternity of servitude?”

“You may tell your respective leaders that I must politely decline-”

Magus froze in mid speech, his eyes suddenly hesitant. He cast around for something, anything, to say, but could not speak. He raised his free hand to his eyes and rubbed them in apparent frustration.

In truth, a terrible realization had spread over him. The only reason he had so obsessively devoted his life to doing battle with Lavos was that he had always hoped that somehow, he would be able to find his sister, who had been captured by Lavos and his power-crazed mother when he had been scattered through time.

Schala. She was his reason for existing. She was why he fought, why he searched, why he’d built an empire and nearly destroyed another. It was for her that he adventured through time, battling all manner of terrors throughout history and righting temporal wrongs wrought by Lavos and other agents. He searched for her always. Even as the great and terrible Fiendlord of the Middle Ages, he was always principally focused on finding her and on saving her. Schala.

“I… wonder,” he began, his composure immediately relaxing back into the distant, uncaring persona he’d struck during the rest of his conversation with the two other men. “If perhaps a deal could be struck.”

“What kind of deal?” Bradley inquired irately, chafing at Magus’ impudence.

“I am looking for someone. If you can help me find this person; if you have information on their whereabouts, I will serve you for a time to be agreed upon beforehand. Otherwise, I must decline your offers, as I have much to do.”

[Omni]

The two elder primes shared a look. Bradley turned away first, glowering. Thrall didn’t look happy either, but it was a different expression. His features were heavier, and he looked Magus straight in the eyes as he spoke.

“This person … if they’re not part of the Omniverse, you can bring them here, with omnilium.”

The mage’s eyes widened.

“But,” Thrall hastily continued, “You may not want to. This Omniverse … some consider it a prison. It’s not all bad, but … if this person is someone you care about, you should think carefully before you bring them into this world.” He shrugged. “There’s really no right or wrong answer.”

The wizard’s eyes dropped to the clinically clean floor of the Nexus. “So,” he said. He looked back up. “So, I’m stuck here, and my … this person, is stuck outside? Where I cannot reach them?” e%gg

Thrall opened his mouth to respond, but now it was Bradley’s turn to speak. There was a glimmer of something in his one good eye.

“If you want to go home, the only way is to speak to Omni.”

Thrall’s head whipped around. “That’s …!”

“No guarantee, of course.” continued Bradley, spreading his palms. “But if you wanted to escape … he’d be the only person capable of doing it.”

“And how do I get to Omni?” Magus asked eyes narrowed.

“There are ways. If you help us, we can help you get there. To the Oververse, where Omni lives.” Bradley’s smile was cold, calculating. He didn’t need to mince his words with this one.

“Don’t do it.” said Thrall. “You’re not ready for that.”

“I think he’s capable of deciding for himself, Thrall,” said Bradley, practically spitting the last word. He leaned forward in his chair, extended a hand to Magus. “What do you say …?”

[Magus]

Magus glared at Bradley for a long time, ignoring his extended hand. The man called ‘Fiendlord’ wasn’t just dangerous, he was overtly menacing. He was tall, standing at about six and a half feet, and strongly built despite his focus on the arcane. His complexion was pallid, sickly pale. From this washed-out lack of color, his fiery eyes of scarlet shone in an unearthly, disturbing light, like two tiny pinpricks of smouldering brimstone. His eyes were hard, utterly devoid of compassion or consideration. His stare was hard and calculating.

He was clothed in baggy, dark pants and a fitted leather chest plate that left his arms bare. A dazzling, bright blue amulet hung from a gold rope around his neck, hidden underneath the leather, and a heavy, crimson cloak hung heavily from his shoulders, draped around his chest but leaving his front bare, flowing down his back like a cape.

Long, flowing blue hair cascaded down his neck and shoulders, and his ears appeared pointed and elf-like. Unbeknownst to his audience, they were not naturally pointed. Nor were his eyes and skin color natural. All twisted by prolonged exposure to dark and dangerous magics.

The man looked equal parts powerful and sinister. He set his jaw as his eyes flitted from Bradley to Thrall and back again. He considered what the mighty warrior had said. That he wasn’t ready. He could have scoffed. Magus had literally just defeated the closest approximation to a god that he had ever encountered. If he was not ready, than who in all of the Omniverse was?

Something tugged at him, though. Some distant thought nagged that not all was as it had appeared on the surface. “Tell me… since you are ‘not fond’ of one another, why do Bradley’s forces not simply annihilate yours?” Magus had addressed Thrall directly, in a partially deliberate show of preference over Bradley. It did not go unnoticed.

“Things are different in the Omniverse. Everything comes down to will, to skill, and to Omnilium. A sword is just as powerful as a gun, a punch as strong as a flying arrow. It all depends on who has the most Omnilium… and talent,” the orc replied.

“Therefore…” Magus raised his left arm to his side and concentrated. He reached deep into the realm of shadow and found… emptiness. His vast, nigh-unending well of power seemed… empty. He concentrated harder, his eyes set with determination.

Most didn’t know it, but magic was equal parts talent, power, and belief. A wizard needed talent to shape and control it, power to fuel and propel it. But without belief, there was no way to manifest it. Without belief, talent and power were nothing.

It was a lot like faith, in a way. Divine power couldn’t be wielded by someone who didn’t believe in it. In the same way, magic could not be wielded by someone who didn’t absolutely believe that they were capable of casting the desired spell.

Magus considered perhaps his belief was shaken by the fact that he found himself in what appeared to be another reality. Perhaps the ancient channels of magic could not be accessed here. Much of the arch mage’s power had been drawn from reality, from fear, despair, hatred, and suffering.

He practised shadow magic. Known as the Forbidden Magic, it was the only school of power that had only purely destructive applications. Its nature was methodical, oppressive. Some called it evil, because of the things it fed on. The things it propagated.

Surely, those things existed here. Camelot and Coruscant were evidently at war! Surely there was an abundance of negative energy all around him. Perhaps this void, this Nexus, canceled out the flow of energy.

“Omnilium,” Thrall said abruptly. “Your… powers. You’re trying to access them, yes?”

Magus regarded him for a moment, and then returned his concentration to mustering his energies.

“Without enough Omnilium, your powers will be diminished. The more powerful you were outside the Omniverse, the longer it will take you to recover all of your strength. Some grow stronger faster, of course. Their will is strong,” Thrall passively rumbled. “With respect, you are at the weakest state possible for a Prime. Going after Omni, after the Oververse. It’s insane. Bradley is manipulating you. You aren’t ready for-”

“Don’t. Tell me. What I’m not ready for,” Magus hissed through gritted teeth, lowering his arm. “You just said some grow stronger faster than others. I will simply have to recover my strength as fast as possible, then, correct?”

“It’s not as simple as that. Omni is not-”

“Oh, come now, Thrall,” Bradley said with a twisted smile. “It is ultimately his decision to make, is it not?”

Magus said nothing for a moment, pondering the facts. Thrall was clearly the more truthful of the two he’d spoken to since he had arrives in the Omniverse. His warning carried more than clinical advice – there was true apprehension in his words. He meant what he said; Magus was not ready to face Omni. Not yet.

Perhaps, though, he would access the rest of his power over the course of his job for the people Bradley served. He rubbed his chin and then forcefully drove the spike at the bottom of his scythe upon the empty whiteness beneath his feet. Despite the impact, nothing marked it where it had been struck.

“Understand this, Bradley. I will in no way be indentured to you. One task in exchange for your help. One job,” he then parroted the one-eyed man with just a hint of venom in his voice. “What do you say?”

[Maximillion]

"Which path brings with it the promise of the most learning?" He had asked, his voice deep, rich, yet spoken a bit low, as though he wasn't used to using his voice that often. His stoic expression hadn't change. His eyes, odd as they were, showed heavily of a deep intelligence, a constant gleam of curiosity about them that indicated he was the type of person who had to constantly be learning something to be satisfied. When he spoke, it would be made clear that he wanted to learn, he wanted things to study, to analyze, and he wanted to be as close to the densest hub of diverse activity so that he could study it all, at whatever level allowed him the most access, and allowed others the most reach in his direction.

"One will lay claim to power, another to numbers. One will lay claim to a greater purpose, another to freedom. But which path has, within it, the most to learn? Which has knowledge, and information, dating back centuries, if not longer, for a diverse number of people, groups, organizations, races and cultures? And which will bring with it access not only to archaic magicks I can study, but also advanced levels of technology I can play with, dabble in, and learn about to the utmost?"

* * *

Apparently, nobody had the answers he was seeking. Even when a new arrival came along, a dashing humanoid with lavender hued skin, pointy ears and pale silvery hair - a similar look to one he had donned long ago, when seeking to blend in with a community of hybrid elves - he saw the great leaders, each of whom had ignored his earlier question, just to regard the questions of the man who had just recently arrived.

So they're selective with who they answer, eh? He thought to himself, scowling slightly. That wasn't a good sign. Typically, when people only answered selectively, they had something huge to hide. He had seen history repeat itself enough times to know that there may well be more to the story than they were currently sharing with the group.

"Allow me to reiterate my question," He said, staring directly at Thaal, then at Bradley. They were powerful men, and not by luck...they had a strength of will, and an intelligence, that was superior to nearly all who opposed them. However, in the man before them, they would find a commanding intelligence, a unique kind in this man. A man whose intelligence, oddly enough, become greater and greater as time went on, and who never lost the knowledge he ever attained, and who came by said knowledge as easily as one inhales and exhales...and a certain sense of formidability, of danger, that came with such men when they decided to use their intellectual prowesses to assert themselves over others, and have done so effectively for years, decades, or - in Maximillion's case - centuries.

"I don't care about 'honor' or 'wealth', I care about power, and the ability to attain it; not power acquired through bar room brawls and smashing heads together, but the power accumulated by interacting with people, getting to know them, and finding out how your goals - and theirs - can reach fruition side-by-side. I am a man who has served many a lord whose own power was dwarfed by mine, because I don't seek to become an all-powerful Sovereign of one sort or another; I merely seek to continue to grow, develop, expand, and become greater in my own right."

He clasped his hands behind his back and would walk closer to where the two had positioned themselves, coming to stand in a place where he was equal distance from both. He turned first to Bradley.

"With wealth often comes oppression from the Powers That Be, unless you're on the higher tiers. Tell me, could your country's wealth provide me with the means to content myself with books, old scrits and information about the Omniverse that could greater increase my knowledge and, thereby, my power? Would the leader of your Plane be willing to have someone in his realm potentially stronger than him- or herself without feeling a need to try and 'eliminate' a loyal follower, unnecessarily?"

He would then turn to Thaal, his eyes meeting the own man's eyes firmly, and locking on. He felt the tremendous force of the man's indomitable will, and could almost sense that the man had about him the power to instill fear in weaker-willed beings, who were virtually every other being the man encountered.

Maximillion didn't consider himself strong-willed, but the truth was - as others would quickly point out - the man knew the balance between being strong-willed, yet also being flexible enough to do as another might want for a period of time. Whereas Maximillion often questioned his ability to match his will against another, those who had stood up against him had no qualms about saying he was a fearsome man.

Yet, even if he had known this, he would still realize that Thraal had a powerful presence about him, and definitely radiated, exuded even, the strongest will he had ever encountered.

"Thraal, you mention freedom to do as one wills, as one wishes, without oppression. But wouldn't such a state be utter and complete anarchy? Be it overt or covert, any realm that exists with absolute Freedom is controlled by whomever is the greatest power in the realm. What of your Camelot? Will your leader stand by as someone potentially acquires enough knowledge, or even power, without seeking to undue what they could rashly believe to be a threat?"

This time, he refused to be ignored, and his tone made that abundantly clear. He would not move from his position until he got an answer.

He had no doubt of what they said, that those fresh from the Fountain of Infinity were in the weakest state of all Primes. This meant, while they may be stronger and more potent than the Secondaries who had been conjured here by a Prime, that was no great feat, and that they were likely dwarfed in might by even the lowliest of soldiers present.

It wasn't that he was courageous, or unafraid; rather, it was that he knew that not speaking, or one not being willing to be bold in the face of certain danger meant they would be trampled underfoot for the rest of their days, and he refused to be that person.

"Tell me simply: which of you has a leader who could abide by someone rising into power, without plotting covertly to be their undoing?"

[Omni]

“One job. What do you say?”

Bradley took a moment to consider. “I was hoping for more of a long-term agreement. You’re a hard man to bargain with.” He laughed jovially. “Fair enough. One job, and we’ll tell you how to reach the Oververse.”

Thrall sighed, shaking his head. “If you want to reach the Oververse, there’s more than one way.”

Magus looked down at the warchief.

“I’m not gonna be the one who tells you how to get there,” said Thrall. “You’ve gotta be ready yourself to do that. But maybe … the library would be a good place to start. That goes for you, too,” he said, jutting his chin to the other newcomer, at his question of seeking knowledge.

Bradley turned his palms up. “Well, that’s your choice. But we can show you the best way, the quickest way, and set you up with some Omnilium to get you going. Besides,” he continued, now turning to address Maximillion as well. “If it’s information you’re after, Coruscant has the greatest library known to the Omniverse. The librarian is a little bit of a … character, you could say, but at least he’s not an orangutan.” He smirked at Thrall, who looked a little bit sheepish and shrugged.

“As for your other question,” continued the Warchief, “Do not mistake ‘freedom’ for foolishness. We do not tolerate criminals. But as long as you go with peace, you are welcome in our Kingdom. That’s more than I can say for the Empire.”

“Pah! Is that really the best you can do, Thrall? Slandering your enemy?”

The orc was unphased. “They can believe what they want, but I’m going to give them the truth.”

[Sarah_Kerrigan]

The doorway is open. Not a question, rather, just a simple fact; a truth, that no matter how cold it felt, could not hold even the foggiest inkling of a lie. A girl had been pulled across the threshold, torn from her home along a sandy shoreline.

Is . . . is this what t-they wanted. Kairi wondered, the words spoken in the dark, silhouetted in dulcet tones, and, the snickering farce of some twisted reality, brought back memories, although, fragmented and torn from any discernable pattern. Or maybe, they reminded her only of dreams; dreams of another life, another world . . . another adventure.

They flared in her mind, and, pounded in her head: images, pictures of people, places, frozen still in time, and, in intent. The witch queen in black, the seeker of the dark, the others pure of heart (of soul), and, the beams of light leading towards a great shining keyhole. But, it had not opened.

It couldn’t have. She remembered. Then again, she did not all the same. There was a boy with a bright smile there too, but, his face was blurred, and, he also had no name. She felt a sense of longing, a light tug at her heartstrings, but, no answer to it came. She was starting to believe none might ever be apparent.

I-I never asked for this. I am not sure I even want it. Protest, it welled up inside her, but, she found no words would part from her lips. Omni and his verse, and, Kingdom Hearts, were they one in the same? Perhaps now, that more than anything else, no longer mattered. She knew the doorway had been sealed the moment its barrier had been breached, and, without her, she did not believe it could be open again.

At least, not from her side, for, something had clicked the lock and discarded the only key.

That something spoke, directly, in mannerisms she was not all too fond of; direct, self-assured, and, even arrogant. Yet, the entity did have a right to be, in her position, in the absence of all other knowledge to the contrary, it was all powerful. While she did wish to poise questions, to sate some thirst for, well, all the answers that had been pried away from her, she felt apart. Apart from everything that was going on, and, slowly, her mind drifted off.

Only one word resounded when she awoke next: Omni. It felt heavy to her heart, cold and twisted, but, mostly far away, and, now completely gone, as though, he, or, it might have never been at all; instead, a passing dream of a reality that would soon cease to be, and, in turn no longer be remembered.
If only that were true.

Several meters off from the fountain, and the group that gathered there, a girl just appeared, as though she had been there all along. Nothing glamorous about the entrance in the least, but, perhaps there need not be, as she stumbled in stark contrast to all those that had passed this way before, and, some of those that still remained.

By all appearances, she was quite young, barely out of early adolescence. Her hair scarlet, not quite so long, dropped just to her shoulders and its bangs parted to and fro above blue eyes. Just a girl, in hues of pink and white, a short skirt and a blouse. More different than not, with no indication of any means of aggression, or, ill intent about her; she bore no weapons.

After a few seconds of disorientation, Kairi, opened her eyes for the first time in a new realm, blinked, and, squinted, an arm instinctively rising to cover the slits of her eyes, because, wherever she was, it was ever so bright. White. She turned her head, and, only more white appeared, all around, all encompassing.

Whoa. Her head was spinning, and, she felt sick to her stomach. Nausea came and went, rising in waves, and, she felt like she would fall off in the slightest breeze.

Her arm lowered. She could still only see the white. Not light, just white, almost as though in place of the dark from before. The absence of light was not black, but, instead, this place of nothingness.

There were voices though, close, at least, close enough for them to be murmurs slipping between one ear unto the other. She blinked again, eyes adjusting, white rescinding briefly, and, another sound becoming clearer. Water, somewhere it flowed, not a stream but a consistent building, whirr. Turning towards it, the girl got her first glance of several blurred figures, meters off, but, presently unknown to her.

A marvelous construct: a fountain of seemingly morphed and still morphing in glistening metallic features. It almost looked alive, the way it reverberated, and grew slowly out. However, that could have just been a trick of the eye. Blurry images still shifted in front of her after all, and the step she took confirmed her first realization: she was not well.

Kairi stumbled, nearly fell and then just stood, not daring to take another step. "H-how did I mmm,” her head throbbed and her expression dropped to that of discomfort,“get here?” Her question was to no one in particular, but, if anyone had cared to notice her relatively quiet entrance, they would have heard it easily enough.

[Raze]

"What's up Skinhead?"

Still trying to take it all in, the warrior jerked his head towards the voice. Coming towards him in a casual stride was a a masked man in a red and black outfit. He was equipped with battlements, though none were brought to arms. Raze thought about being the first to grab for his own blades. His memories were clouded, but he knew very well that he had never seen this person before in his life.

"Who are you", Raze demanded.

"Me? I'm the Doctor." The man spoke as if it was an obvious statement.

"The doctor?" Raze lifted a brow, it rung no bells.

"Yes, The Doctor." The masked man raised his hands as if waiting for a question.

"Never heard of it." The warrior clenched his fists and relaxed them repeatedly in anxiousness, trying to figure out where this was going.

"No man! You are suppose to say 'Doctor Who'. Dammit! It was going to be so hilarious, too."

Raze blinked for a moment, trying to catch on but could only shake his head, "No."

"Crapola man! You're ruining my buzz, Skinhead. But since I know who you are, I guess you can just call me Deadpool." As he spoke, he placed his hand on Raze's shoulder, causing the warrior to bring up a fist. Two short blades flipped and stuck out of the gauntlet, their points barely touching the red fabric of Deadpool's mask.

The mercenary paused for a slight second, only lift his chin higher, and with his free hand slowly move the sharp objects away from him."Relax, don't be so touchy. All the fun killing stuff can happen after we figure out whats going on."

Just as quick as they had appeared, the blades vanished and Deadpool brought Raze in closer by butting his hand on his other shoulder and the two began walking a few steps like they the best of pals, "So tell me about yourself Skinhead. Where do you come from what or who were you doing before you got here? Tell me about the man behind the skin head. Tell me who your daddy is?"

"Raze. Raze Destruction. That's what they call me.-"
-"No they call you Skinhead"-
"I was fighting the Kracken Guard army. I was in the lead; I was up by seventeen kills against Arith... At least I think that's what I remember. There were dead corpses all around me. the sand was drenched in the blood of friends and enemies."

"Oh! It sounds exciting."

"It was!" Raze had a smile on his face as he remembered the massacre. It started to get his blood pumping again, he could almost taste it."

"Ok, now who the hell are you guys?" Deadpools' voice snapped him back to reality and Raze realized that they had stumbled across more people staring at the two.

[Maximillion]

Maximillion had never been an easily pacified man. When he wanted something done a specific way, he ensured that it got done, or found a suitable alternative to his plans that were just as good. He knew well that too many compromises resulted in regret, and he had far too many regrets as it was.

So when he was told about the various realms, about one that offered wealth and power, one that offered honor and the like, he had spent plenty of time thinking on it, and thinking hard.

In the end, he was won over by Bradley's arguments, and his offer of providing the largest, most expansive library in the Omniverse; surely, had he been lying, one of the other individuals - who seemed committed to telling the truth, although omitting incriminating details - would have called him on it immediately, or so the ebony Ancient had reasoned. And what greater power was there but Information or Knowledge?

He had served as an Information Broker and Bounty Hunter since before he knew these vocations had official names they went by. Both required combining Knowledge with Know-how. What better trade for a man who aspired to learn all the great things Existence had to offer?

He was a gluttonous man with a bottomless stomach, in an orchard full of trees that dropped fruit in endless waves; the fruit was knowledge, and the orchard - it would seem - was in Coruscant.

"I believe I have come to a decision..." Maximillion said finally. He removed his hands from where he had stuffed them into his pockets, then strode right up to Bradley, a smirk forming along his lips as a few of the men accompanying bradley stiffened more and more the closer he got. What intrigued him most was the look in Bradley's eyes. His face conveyed no apparent anger, irritation, haughtiness or contempt. They were the eyes of a man who was used to giving command, who was a powerful leader, but who also was intelligent enough to know which emotions to convey openly and which to keep veiled; which tactics to employ in the presence of whom, and which not to; what constituted a threat and what did not.

Maximillion's eyes met Bradley's not in brash arrogance or some delusion of superiority, but with the resolve of a man who was secure in what he wanted out of life, and the knowledge that he wouldn't stake his life over something pointless and unnecessary; that Maximillion was a shrewd man in and of himself, and his looking Bradley in the eyes wasn't an act of defiance, arrogance, or even some notion that the two were equals, more or less....merely that Maximillion acknowledged the man, his status, and that he hadn't come by his status on accident.

And as the smile spread along his ebony features, so too would he seem to say You have piqued my interest, so as long as your words remain true and your demeanor polite, I will see what you have to offer.

"I will come with you, no sooner or later than you are able to lead the procession into the city. There is much regarding this world I have yet to learn, and I have a feeling you'd know better than anyone what might interest one like you and I, however different the worlds we come from."

The two of them, men who weren't unaccustomed to wielding power, both competently, and intelligently. Men who valued information, but knew when to keep their mouths shut about what they knew until the last possible second, until it would actually be of benefit for them to spill the proverbial beans.

Maximillion didn't have a data sheet in front of him about the man, nor had the man given much about himself. However, Maximillion was pretty good at sizing people up and assessing various aspects of a person by viewing how they talked, walked, presented themselves and handled challenging situations.

And he was sure that, with time, he would learn even more.

"So then, when shall we proceed?"

[Jack Frost]

"Ok, now who the hell are you guys?"

In front of the masked mercenary was an averaged height man with an eye patch along with jet black hair and mustash-"You suck at this narrating thing Mr.narrator, it was more like light black hair with a few grey's and a MUSTACHE"-Along with the man were five heavily white armored beings with-"AWESOME laser spitting thingies."- Aside from that clique, there was an orc like being who was heavily armored with a silver metal and carried around a hammer like weapon with an interesting symbol on it.-"Nah that guy looks like a cross between a minotaur and the Hulk on steroids"- Along with the strange being was a quintuplet of men who all had the same attire.

As Raze came out from his trance he looked where his colleague spoke to and all in one swift motion, flipped his blades to a reverse bow looking format with four blades, put his right leg back ready to spring if necessary then put a grin on his face.-"You kidding me? He put on a grin that could put the Joker to shame! Wait whose that again?"-

"My name is Bradley", The man with the eye patch said. "This is my 'friend', Thrall."

Before the man with an eye patch could speak anymore, Deadpool jumped in, "I am Deadpool and this is my new found pit bull, Skinhead. Looks like he really likes you!"

The two looked towards each other then back to the two that wore red and black.

"So who are your lackeys? Are we celebrating Cinco de Mayo?"

"These are soldiers of Corsucant and Camelot. It's not exactly smart for someone of our stature to go out alone into a neutral area. We could get ambushed or something."

'So break it to me simply before my dog attacks. You guys want us to pick a side or something? and what if we don't? What if we split and slaughter you all from the inside? Can we eat babies? Do you know Teemo? Who has the chimichangas?"

[MDGEIST]

The warchief sat silently, waiting, trying to maintain his composure. His guards on the other hand were not so strong of will.

Behind, barely containing his giddiness stood the lanky, gaunt form of one of Corsucant's richest. Despite the hoards of property and power this wretched string of a man had the look of one that spent and exceptional amount of time and energy to look beautiful, yet failed spectacularly in the end. This really was no great bother to warchief... but the rancid stink of old cologne filling the air with a pungent musk almost put him at more unease than the occasional screech of pulsating flesh spreading hidden under a thin layer of neon green vinyl. His jewel encrusted jade cod piece bobbed up, and down. The gaunt man was certainly beside himself with anticipation.

The warchielf grunted. It seems money can buy anything in this world. As MD GEIST arrived at the Nexus, he was surprised to see that the well built yellow haired man before him was not some cooing trollop, but rather a hard nosed, rugged man who'd sooner thrust a knife in someone than anything else.

"OoooOOOo MISTAH GEIST!!" the gaunt man minced, "I am sooo glad you have come to join uuuhhhhh...."
The gaunt man staggered.

On his tall, lanky legs seemed to bend and sway like a willow tree catching a sharp wind. Beads of sweat cascaded down his forehead and he clutched at his chest futilely with his long, slender fingers.

"Gaah gaaaa uhhhh urgahhh...." he simpered in one final gasp before collapsing into a pile of limp bones and flesh.

A guard rushed to the man's side and put two fingers to his neck. "He's dead sir!! His heart gave out!"

The guards and warchief exchanged uneasy looks. The yellow haired Geist stayed silent, watching.

"Well, it seems here Mr. Kellog bought you passage into Corsucant. Suppose we can't send you back now..."

[Magus]

There were others, now. Other Primes addressing Thrall and Bradley. Magus didn’t know how long they had been there, before him or after, but guessed they’d come from the fountain. And the insolent creatures simply cut in to converse with them while Magus went over what they’d told him.

It didn’t matter. He’d gotten what he’d come for, in a most roundabout fashion. He brushed a stray hair behind a pointed ear and cleared his throat. “If both of you have libraries which can lead me to the same answer, I must deign to accept Thrall’s invitation,”

“Don’t take this as an insult but I’m only going to Camelot to seek knowledge, not out of a sense of kinship for your people,” Magus said to the orc before lolling his head to face Bradley with a sarcastic smile on his face. “And because Camelot’s ambassador didn’t try to cheat me into the service of his master.”

“You should be careful how you choose your words, you don’t know who-”

“I don’t know who I’m dealing with? Or, perhaps, I don’t know who’s in charge around here? Some permutation of the same threat-but-not-a-threat, correct,” the Fiendlord looked down his nose at Bradley. “Your manipulative behavior has drained what respect for you I might have had. You are a pawn for your Emperor, his snake oil salesman. Nothing more.”

“I leave for Camelot,” Magus’ eyes swept toward Thrall, and he jutted his chin in the direction of a portal. “That way, yes?”

The massive green man simply nodded, uneasy at the sudden discomfort that Magus had made for them. Bradley seethed in silence, and Thrall took no chances in escalating things at the fountain any more than they already had.

The arrogant new Prime swept his cape behind his left shoulder and strode purposefully toward the portal to Thrall’s verse, taking large, quick steps, and curtly leaving the ambassadors and their guards behind with the other new arrivals.

He found himself at a grand, stone archway. He could see the grass flow and bend under the wind, the birds in the sky, the people tending to their fields in the distance.

It was incredible. An entire world beyond this dazzling portal, entire worlds beyond each of the portals stood up around the fountain, and all he had to do was step through. It really was like the End of Time, only instead of being connected to moments through time, it was connected to realities through…

Through what?

He made an amused grunt. That question raised several significantly more worrisome ones. He put a pin in it and took a deep breath, shielding his eyes with his forearm and charged through the portal, only to stumble through on the other side as though nothing at all incredible had happened.

Magus turned and looked back at the portal, and could see the Fountain and all those around it in perfect clarity. Behind what looked like a shimmering pool of water, only somehow standing vertical, an enormous expanse of rolling meadows split by an ancient cobblestone road sprawled before him. Even he seemed incredulous. Shaking his head, he turned to face the new world he had stepped into. The world of Camelot.

[Blackfire]

There was nothing but darkness. He could feel his hands, and he could feel his feet, but he could not feel his feet on the ground.

Who turned out the lights? he wondered.

“You are in a black void”, a mysterious voice echoed, startling the crime fighter.

Suddenly, bright light emerged from the darkness, causing him to shield his eyes.

“It is safe to look ahead now.”

The fighter, whose black costume blended in the dark, cautiously removed his hands from his eyes. The bright light had dimmed, and had formed an ivory, humanoid shape. The imagery was mesmerizing. He had never seen anything as remarkable. The youth had always believed in a higher power. He had never bought into the Big Bang Theory, or having evolved from an ape. He had always believed that there was someone responsible for creating the earth.

God, he thought. Suddenly a chill ran down his spine. The realisation of being in the midst of such a powerful entity, caused his fingers to twitch.

“I am not God”. the being replied, “although we possess a lot of similarities. I am more than a myth. I am a pioneer. I am omnipotent. I am Omni.”

So it was not God, but the being still possessed a magnificent, shimmering aura that humbled the crime fighter from Gotham City.

“Batman, this is not the world you know.”

He was aware of the fighters alias, however, if he truly was omnipotent, he would know the true identity of the youth man behind the mask.

“Your name is Terry, surname, McGinnis.”

“Whoa, that’s creepy!” he replied as another chill ran down his spine. “W-Where,” the costumed combatant continued, and then cleared his throat, doing his best to erase any sign of fear, “am I? What do you want with me?”

“This is the Omniverse. You interest me; therefore I have made you a part of it.”

Suddenly things became a lot clearer. Since Omni knew who he was, he knew of Batman’s responsibility in Gotham City.

“I am very impressed by what you have done for Gotham City so far – as their new hero. It is why I believe you will be a great asset to the Omniverse.”

The crime fighter observed his surroundings once more – the darkness – the void. This was not his home. It was far from it.

“Thanks for the props, but Gotham’s my home. Back there, I’m their sheriff – over here, I’m not your guy.”

“Believe me, I would not have summoned you here if I had any doubts that Gotham City would not be able to survive without you.”

“So what are you trying to say, that there is a new sheriff in town? Someone else has taken my spot?”

“For as long as there are criminals, there are crime fighters. You are not Gotham’s first superhero, and you are certainly not the last.”

Batman gently rubbed his right hand against his face, as he pondered.

“Is the Omniverse in some sort of crisis? Is that why you need me?”

“No, the Omniverse is not in any sort of crisis. I am simply granting you the opportunity to forge a new chapter in your life, in the Omniverse.”

Batman was a risk taker – a chancer. Omni obviously knew this. The omnipotent being knew the mortals strengths and weaknesses, and was clearly taking advantage by exploiting one of his weaknesses. The fact that Batman was giving Omni’s invitation some thought, illustrated this.

“What’s this place like?” Batman once again directed his attention to the emptiness and darkness that surrounded him. “There’s gotta me more to this.”

“More than you can imagine.”

A smile formed behind the youngsters mask. He was intrigued by the idea of exploring an entire new world. It seemed too good to be true, but on the contrary, Omni and the Omniverse seemed as real as anything he had ever laid eyes on.

“I’m sure you have a million questions to ask me, however, among them, there is one that holds the most importance.”

“Well?”

“There are plenty of criminals in the Omniverse, some, more powerful than you can imagine, and then there is one in particular, who if you encounter, will become your greatest rival.”

Batman’s fingers started to twitch again, but this time, not due to fear, but due to the yearn of encountering, and engaging in battle with this alleged rival in the making. The last time he had felt the urge to do something so bad, it was to kill the people responsible for murdering his father.

Batman had another weakness, which Omni had just exploited. The fighter’s greatest flaw was selfishness. Suddenly, the future, and wellbeing of Gotham City was no longer his number one priority. There was only one thing on his mind.

“I can’t describe it. I don’t know what it is, but I feel like smashing this supposed rival in the face, and I don’t even know who you are talking about. I just want to fight. Take me to him, it, whatever. I know you can make it happen, being omnipotent and all.”

“I could take you to him now, or let fate run its course – letyou distinguish this person as your rival when you eventually encounter him, and you will eventually cross paths with him. There will be fireworks, and your battles with him will change the landscape of the Omniverse. Your names will both be written in history for the epic battles you will have, and for perhaps, the greatest rivalry in the history of the Omniverse. I guarantee it.”

Batman smirked.

“Fine, I’ll leave it to fate.”

His intuition told him to trust Omni when he said that fate would draw them to one another.

“Good, now that that matter is settled, let me give you more insight of the Omniverse.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it, however, there are rules, even you Batman, must follow.”

“You sure about that?” the masked youth smirked. Batman was not a generic superhero. He saved lives, fought villains, but that was where the similarities ended. He lived by his own set of principles. For instance, he had a tendency to get caught up in the heat of battle, dealing with criminals using overexcessive violence.

“I am positive,” replied Omni, “and I will only explain them once, so listen carefully.”

A round object formed in the mysterious entities right hand. It glimmered, causing the fighter to squint his eyes. The orb was multicoloured, displaying all the colours of a rainbow.

“Whoa, what the hell is that?!”

“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours, however, you will need more than this. If you desire Omniliumi enough, you will discover it. You will also discover that using it comes naturally. All it requires is for you to think of what you desire most.”

“So Omnilium is basically money, and you’re the President, ruler of the Omniverse.”

Omni chuckled. Batman had amused the great Omni.

“No, but you have grasped the logic of Omnilium, and yes, I am the ruler, and creator of the Omniverse.” The orbs size suddenly began to decrease, and the colours began to fade, until it vanished. “One last piece of information. You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn.”

“What? What do you mean, I will be reborn?”

“I have explained everything you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching … and waiting.”

Suddenly, the darkness began to fade.

“Wait! Where are you going?! That wasn’t a million questions!”

[Sarah_Kerrigan]

The voices – if they were ever there – began to slip away, quietly in fact, trickling into dull nothingness; not at all different from the endless flow of a nearby fountain, where its waters would grow out circulate again, and, just be gone thereafter replaced by the new. Perhaps they were never there at all, just a ploy on Kairi’s imagination, serving only to trick a stressed young mind. As she regained some composure, the world (if it could be called one) around her seemed no more real than it had before.

Silence and the White.

The blankscape stretched on and on in one direction, then another, another, and, another still. Each path going on for miles upon miles. Still though, when she blinked, refocused while steadying herself, the fountain became clearer, more there actually, and, figures that were once blurs either vanished or remained, slowly becoming a part of her reality. Whereas everything had once felt so distant, now, they resounded in utter clarity. She was really here . . . wherever here happened to be.

“Omni,” the word, a name? It parted from her lips naturally, but, felt nonetheless, foreign. Like something important tugging at the very fiber of here being, it was a part of that familiar sense of longing, of wishing for something that could not actually exist, that struck her about it. Only a veiled whisper, with a grain of truth, and, knowledge about it. Omni, that name was very important, but, as to why it was, she could not say. It frustrated her to no end (half-remembering), all it left was a sense of never knowing what exactly was real enough to cling to. Even the stoutest of persons, would crumble against the inconsistency of her memories. Why can’t I remember? She struggled within herself. In those voided memories, she found fear.

Yes, she was frightened. The tremors shivering their way through her hands were evidence of that fact. She bore all the side effects of being hopped up on caffeine, without, any of the benefits. The nerves though, were the worst.

She slipped an arm behind her back and gripped the other, rubbing it lightly, nervously. The figures by the fountain seemed to have noticed her presence, but, made no moves towards her. Instead, they were sitting, one lower to the ground than the other, as though, they were waiting patiently, or, more likely speaking towards another that stood at great height. From this distance, the darkest of the three appeared far more defined; far more there, or, maybe some subconscious factor of intimidation was sneaking its way in. Regardless, his impression consisted of something . . . substance.

For now still meters away, she could not grasp the situation poised, and, in turn did not wish to intrude; not yet at any rate. After all, she could barely think. But, a sea of thoughts swept on swimming, disconnected words and ideas in a never-ending flow of nonsensical, well, nonsense. This entire place just felt . . . wrong.

That wrongness, convinced her to act.

Cautiously she walked forward, still keeping that one arm clinging tight to the other: for comfort, mostly, as a way to keep connected to herself, as though, she feared fading away from this place in its entirety. “Excuse me,” she tried to interrupt politely when she drew closer. “Would you tell me where I am?”

[Blackfire]

Terry opened his eyes, immediately noticing something peculiar. He wore a puzzled expression as he removed his face from the white ground that was as white as snow, yet not soft, nor cold. It was as hard as concrete, and quite warm. He rose to a kneeled position, and then to one foot, resting his left elbow on his left thigh.

Omni, he suddenly remembered, but there was no sign of the Omniverse’s creator anywhere. There was nothing but empty space around him – a seemingly endless, white void that contrasted to the black void where he had met Omni. There was no sun, no clouds, and no moon, just pure whiteness.

The youth had seen a lot of extraordinary things in his lifetime, from his childhood, all the way to his present role as Batman, but they all paled in comparison to the Omniverse. It was beyond his wildest imaginations. He did not even know how he had been transported to this verse. The last thing he remembered was preparing for a training session at his mentor, Bruce Wayne’s mansion, and then suddenly, he was inside a black void; everything else that had transpired after that, led him here in the middle of nowhere.

Batman rubbed his face, trying his best to maintain his composure. It was frustrating not knowing what to do, or where to go in a place that lacked any signs nor signals. Omni could have at least provided him with a tour guide.

The teen rose to his feet and went with his instincts, heading forward. He marched with haste, anxious to discover any form of life, a landmark, anything.

Thirty seconds past but there was no sign of anything, and then another thirty seconds, same outcome, and then twenty, nothing. Just as his patience was on the verge of growing thin, he discovered something that prevented him from losing his composer, the sound of water flowing. It sounded like a water fountain. The anticipation of this discovery triggered the man into a sprint; his black boots clogging rapidly against the white, concrete ground. After half a minute he stopped; there before him was a circular shaped lake, which was surrounded by a circle of white pillars – so tall that they extended towards the white sky. An endless amount of water elevated from the lake, and then swerved back down into it in every direction. It was the most impressive sight he had ever witnessed. It was so extraordinary that it enthralled him with tunnel vision.

“A sight for sore eyes isn’t it?”

“Huh?” uttered the teen, who involuntary jerked his head towards a man who was sitting comfortably on a fancy armchair. He was a well dressed, middle aged man with slick, black hair. His most distinctive feature was not his thick moustache – it was the eyepatch that covered his right eye.

“The water fountain,” replied the man, who wore a blue, military outfit. There were five humanoids behind him encased in white, metallic battlesuit's, holding plasma guns. Their identities were protected by their white helmets. That was the only aspect about them relative to the bat costumed fighter. Batman’s eyes trailed towards their weapons, which lay idle by their wastes. Their lack of hostility eased the fighter, at least for now. He was not going to trust a group of strangers.

Batman was about to respond to the eyeless man, but then refrained as someone else caught his attention. This individual stood out like a sore thumb with his green skin, elf ears, and grotesque face. His most intimidating feature was not his behemoth size, (which was clearly evident despite the fact he was sitting on the ground, with his legs crossed) it was the two, razor sharp teeth that poked out of his mouth like elephant tusks. He was by far the most hideous creature the crime fighter had ever witnessed. Just the mere presence of this person made the humans skin tingle under his leather costume.

As a proud person with a huge reputation as an ass-kicker, the last thing Batman wanted was for the orc to detect fear in his eyes; therefore he shifted his attention elsewhere. There were five soldiers behind their leader, identical to the others. Their weapons were also drawn. Batman highly doubted the orc needed their protection, especially considering the fact that he had two weapons, a large hammer that lay next to his right side, and a hammer, to his left.

There were also other people amongst them that the masked fighter had just noticed – all humans. Most of them sought the same thing, a new destination, a new adventure, a brand new chapter into their lives, and then there was another, the only female there, a girl whose puzzled demeanour suggested that she had no idea where she was. The brunette appeared to be in her mid teens, possibly a highschool sophomore, but no older than a junior. She looked like the typical girl next door – not extremely attractive, not ugly, but cute, kind, and unassuming. She looked timid – a misfit that had just stumbled upon the place by chance.

Poor girl, thought Batman. Suddenly, his mind traced back to what Omni had mentioned, ‘there will be others in the Omniverse’. The superhero had been summoned by Omni because of his admirable achievements as the protector of Gotham City. The others were probably heroes whom had also been summoned because of their achievements. These men had good physiques too, and assumedly possessed fighting backgrounds; however the same could not be said for the girl who seemed as if she could not harm a fly. The great Omni had summoned her here too though; therefore there was obviously something special about her. It would be foolish to underestimate anyone, a notion that Batman respected.

Batman returned his focus to the man who had spoken to him, but then turned to the individual who had gently tapped his right shoulder.

“Excuse me.” It was the girl. “Would you tell me where I am?”

Batman shifted his eyes back to King Bradley, who was supposed to be his prime focus, but could not just ignore the damsel in distress.

“The Omniverse, apparently,” he replied, as gently as he could. “Didn’t Omni bring you here?”

“Omni,” she recited, and then winced, trying to figure out why the name was so familiar. “I can’t remember.” She bowed her head, feeling dejected.

It was peculiar that she could not remember Omni, whereas Batman clearly could.

He gently placed his right hand on her left shoulder. “Keep your head up.”

She raised her head, and gazed into his blue eyes, trying to put on a brave face.

“You gotta to be strong out here.” He uttered the next part quietly. “I don’t know any of these people, and you obviously don’t either, which is why it’s important not to show them any sort of vulnerability.” He knew this from experience, after Omni had exploited one of his weaknesses, which he used to sucker Batman into his Omniverse.

“Okay,” she replied in a soft tone, but the crime fighter was not convinced, and neither was she.

“I’m Batman by the way.”

Batman, she thought, convinced it was not his real name. Suddenly, she came to a revelation that he was wearing a mask to protect his true identity.

“I’m Kairi,” she replied with a welcoming smile. “What’s your real name?”

Batman chuckled. She had the distinction of being the first person to amuse him in this verse.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

She smiled once more. “I think I get it.” She genuinely understood but had felt the necessity to chance it.

Batman’s identity was the most valuable thing to him, something that even his family did not know. Only two people knew his true identity, and they were his mentors.

“That’s why Omni brought me here. I’m a superhero from Gotham City. Every heard of it?”

“No,” she replied.

“Fair enough,” he smiled. “Basically, I beat up bad guys, save lives and protect civilians for a living. That interested Omni. He said, and I quote, ‘that I’d be a valuable asset to the Omniverse’.” Batman placed his hands by his shoulders. “Don’t you remember anything at all?”

“I’ve tried, but I just can’t remember,” she sulked.

The superhero placed both hands on her shoulder this time. It was the best he could do to comfort her without seeming like a sentimental, soft touch, like her.

“Omni brought you here. I know that much, which means you obviously have a gift, an ability, something that impressed him enough to bring you here. Where are you from, and what do you do for a living?”

[Raze]

"So break it to me simply, before my dog attacks. You guys want us to pick a side or something? And what if we don't? What if we split and slaughter you all from the inside? Can we eat babies? Do you know Teemo? Who has the chimichangas?"

Raze could only snicker at the jokes, though he didn't catch either of them. Deadpool reminded him of an old comrade. The warrior, however, still had his own objectives.

"Where is Lord Enroshia? Arith? Gromsor? Inirtias? Ashlon", Questioned the red and black armored warrior.

The orc took a long sigh, ignoring the masked man and answered, "Only you came through here. No one else by those names have."

Raze stood still for a moment before taking in a deep long breath. He let it exit slowly while retracting the blades of his gauntlet. "How should I trust you? Why shouldn't I kill you both right now?"

Thrall looked Raze into his eyes, "Because you are weaker then you were? You can feel it, can you not?"

Raze blinked for a moment as he realized the truth in the green warriors words. Something felt different, certainly,

"You addressed a man as Lord Enroshia..." Thrall started

"Are you even worthy enough to speak his name? This still doesn't make any fucking sense. I shouldn't be here. I should be bathing in the blood of the Kracken Guard. The odor of their dead rotting bodies should bee seeping through every place it could find upon me, to linger and allow me to reminiscence in ecstasy of the looks on their faces when they realizes that it was me, stood before them." A wicked grin spread across the face of the bald man as he thought back to the battlefields,

"Are you having a wet dream while you are awake?" Deadpool could only bend his neck slightly as he stared on at his comrade.

Thrall paused for a moment, "You are a prime. Omni chose you. You interest him-"

Raze lowered him self, tucking his body towards his knees and grabbed at his head. "Where are they? Where are my friends?"

"I'm here Skinhead."

Raze nearly formed his body into a makeshift ball as he tucked himself together. It all made some sense, but the rest was painful. It was as if he had to forget memories he didn't want to. it was near agonizing. He was Raze Destruction, named for the aftermath he left in his wake; One of the few warriors that people couldn't understand as to why Enroshia had let them into his ranks. He was that one of a kind. The Lythian's wouldn't have deserted him. He was one of them. Enroshia had sent full armies after him, just to try and ensure that the rebel fighter would come back in one piece. Or at least in enough pieces to patch him up for the next bout.

-----

The words of the past echoed in his mind. Enroshia, an elvish warrior with long white hair, had turned to him, "Raze, I really need you once again. I need you and Arith to take your men to the Northeast and do what you two do best. Massive amounts of troops have been spotted up that way. Arith and his Storm Runners are the fastest in the land, and you have never failed to create havoc on the battlefield."
--------

"I did", Raze shouted before he looked around and realized where he was again.

"You are having an episode. Your mind wants to block your old memories but your soul wont let you." Thrall always seemed to have answers.

Raze looked around, lost again, Deadpool stared at him for a moment, cocking his head once more then looking towards the two he stated, "We go with where ever he upchucks!"

------------

"I really like your style Skinhead. Screw those bone heads and lets go this way." Deadpool looked up towards the sky for a moment then and then turned back to his companion, "But if we run into flying monkeys, we wont be friends anymore. I really hate those things."

[Sarah_Kerrigan]

Kairi tried not to tremble. After all, she did not want to give the wrong impression. The gentle touch of comforting hands should have been more than enough to settle her – and they were to an extent – but they weren’t enough to quell the breadth of her nerves. So, she just looked up at him (terry), tilted her head slightly, and, offered him a nod as he spoke.

“Omni,” she mimed, probably not for the last time. Even the simple word held power; power over this place, and, if she were to believe Batman, everyone within it: a big amusement park where the attractions were set loose upon one another, and, their abilities clashed. Twisted, yet, maybe intent in this case, was not the same as the appearance. And . . . this Omni, wanted her, like the others gathered and spread about.

‘Where are you from, and what do you do for a living?’ The simple questions should not have struck her like they did, but, well, they did. Where as concepts of home and lifestyle were easy for many to understand, Kairi, was an exception to that rule. As an off-worlder whom could not remember her birthplace, and, as someone lost within in her own happenings - memories that did or might not have happened at all - the truths behind them were blocked off, with the links severed between them.

She stepped back, slipping out of his grasp, while a shiver ran down her spine. Although it may have not been his intention, the youth had been momentarily taken aback, but, most likely not for the reasons Batman would assume. Her gaze became distant, and, she looked off to the side, down casting her eyes as thoughts ran amuck.

Thereafter, she turned away, to stare into the white distance. Her chest became tight and her arms folded across it.

There were many things coming into fruition in the youth’s mind. Most, were fragmented, memories of times spent on a sprawling beach where the horizon seemed to go on forever and ever; its sands swirled and burst up with the rushing footfalls of children at play. Lots of laughter had been had, and, fights with toy wooden swords mixed in with the usual game of pummel each other with a ball. Best friends, a group of three, two boys and girl before the darkness swept over the islands.

Then there were others that were somehow darker and riddled with nothingness, gaps in where she almost felt like she had not existed at all. Those were moments where now she could recall being frightened and alone, however, something told her that they were ever so important, as, they played a part in why she was here. But, as she had said: she couldn’t remember, not fully at any rate.

There were links missing from her chain of memories; some distorted to the point wherein she could not distinguish between what had merely been a dream during the time she had spent asleep, and, the reality of what actually happened. While others, were simply, gone, as though they were taken by some force beyond her ability to explain. Like, like they were plucked right from her mind's eye. She knew they had been, but, now, they were just faded, blurred, and, were sealed, locked away tight where she just could not grasp them.

The boy was one of those. If she had known what traversed back home . . . where he went - Castle Oblivion- perhaps she could have made more sense of it. Knowledge like that, though, was far past her ability to reach.

Near the end, she could even remember a time when she had reached out into the darkness, and, had filled it with a light. Her light . . . was that right? Sighing, she shook her head, dispelling the pain that came with half-remembering. The clearest of days where she could say for sure she was not dreaming, were the ones spent by the open sea.

“Is . . . is this even real?” She mumbled, but, in defeat (relative acceptance) she decided to answer Batman as one hand clung to the opposite arm behind her back, squeezing it gently for comfort. She shifted and faced away from the endless span of white, to see both him and the fountain where the others . . . those that had been here before she, still sat and stood.

They were watching, but, mostly listening. As they soon would have to convince the pair to go along their path, if they could manage that.

“Radiant Gar - mmm.” Kairi looked down, stumbling over her own words. A foot played tucked and tugged beneath the other as she tried to work out another thought. That felt wrong too. “I'm from Destiny Islands.” Although her expression was withdrawn, although, she seemed to be confident enough with her answer.

“Heard of them?” She added, asking hopefully as her face brightened slightly, but, she already knew the truth behind that. After all, she did not know of a Gotham anywhere among all the stars she used to stare up at. There were other worlds, but, Gotham - a city like he described - she had never seen . . . or dreamt about while staring out at the horizon.

[Jack Frost]

"I really like your style Skinhead. Screw those bone heads and lets go this way." Deadpool looked up towards the sky for a moment then and then turned back to his companion, "But if we run into flying monkeys, we wont be friends anymore. I really hate those things."

After a moment

"OOOOHHH, We're off to see the wizard! The wonderful wizard of OzT ecause, because, because-Hey! I'll be Dorthy and you can be Todo," Deadpool exclaimed excitedly.

"Who is this 'Todo' you call me?" Raze questioned.

"Ya know,the small hairball of a dog that sounds and looks like a gremlin."

Raze paused for a moment and scratched his bald head and grinned,"No, I shall be the be one you call Dorthy."

"Oh so you want to be the girl in this situation? Then I shall be the Brainless Scarecrow, I mean the Heartless Tin-Man- Better yet the Cowardly Lion." Deadpool face palmed at his final statement as Raze grinned even more.

"That fits. The cowardly lion scared of flying monkeys!"

"Hey that's not what I meant Skinhead."

"You said it. Not me, Deadman, the Cowardly man that thinks he's a Lion chasing monkeys."

-Ok look Mr. Narrator. This is getting old.-

"So what kind of name is Deadpool?"

"What kind of a name is Skinhead?" Deadpool asked back.

"You are the one that calls me Skinhead, my name is Raze."

"You are the one that calls me Deadpool, my name is Wade. I mean Deadpool. Ugh stop tricking me!"

"I think you are tricking yourself, more then I am tricking you." Raze paused for a moment and looked up at the sky, almost as if he was hunting for flying monkeys. "They call me Raze Destruction because I'm named for the wake I leave in battle. You know, raze and destruction, like razing and destroying buildings."

"So you raze and destroy buildings? I thought you were ma fearless warrior. And I thought it was raise as in I got a raise and got a higher pay. Or raise as in you were raised to the heavens as they carried your dead body because you sucked or something."

"What? No. not even. That doesn't make any sense." Raze looked at Deadpool confused and with a frown.

"Oh. Ok. Well, I'm named from the pool of dead mutants that gave me their powers before they died."

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

“Target dead ahead, sir. Maintaining altitude! ETA fifteen minutes!”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Vin? I have a bad feeling about this.” The blonde pilot asked, putting out his cigarette. He looked exceptionally tired, more so than Vincent had ever seen him. The years were wearing on him, the wrinkles of middle-age beginning to creep across his face. Although his voice was just as strong and commanding, his normal slanted grin was conspicuously absent.

The raven-haired fighter squared his jaw. “Cid, you know that I’m the only one that can do this,” he said plainly.

“Well, yeah. But you’re not even sure ya’ can!” Cid responded, lighting another cancer stick.

“I’m the only chance we have,” Vincent replied, reaching across the control console and tapping the intercom button.
“Tifa, has Edge been evacuated?”

There was a long silence before a familiar voice answered, “Tifa’s grabbing Shelke and Denzel now. Everyone else has already scattered. You really should wait for us, Vincent.”

“Thanks, Cloud. But this needs to be done.” He clicked the intercom off, took his seat and waited.

- - -

The Airship rocketed northward, tracing a path toward Midgar; or at least, what once was Midgar. Following the attack on the metropolis years ago much of the area had been leveled. Recently, the city of Edge had been built over the ruins in a stubborn attempt by the population to continue with their lives. The noble citizens of Gaia were known for their resilience, and this was nothing new. When the earthquakes and radiation spikes started, it seemed that fate had something different in mind. In the past week no less than three rifts had torn through the city, spilling clouds of scalding Mako vapor into the air. They just couldn’t catch a break.

Vincent himself had not only volunteered for this mission, he had planned it. He was to enter from overhead, dropping right into ground zero and place a Mako sensor. The sensor would supply data on the tectonic activity as well as the radiation levels. Provided there were no surprise earthquakes, it would be a relatively simple mission. The danger lied in the possibly lethal dose of radiation one could absorb. Vincent was the only person who had a chance of surviving, thanks to the cursed, nigh-immortal biology conferred on him by the twisted mind of Hojo. As heroic as one might perceive him to be, it was in some small way a selfish ploy. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but almost enjoy the thought of succumbing to the radiation. Being 62 in the body of a 27 year old was fast getting old.

The tectonic activity and radiation in Edge was atypical of anything Vincent had heard of in regards to the Lifestream, though many suspected it was the birth of another “Weapon”. Gaia’s Weapons, created and dispatched to protect the planet from those that would aim to harm it. Vincent and his comrades had so far put an end to 7 of these guardians, colossal beings of pure destructive power that destroyed anything in their wake. Countless lives had been ended, cities obliterated in the past due to these beings. Vincent himself was unsure of this Weapon theory, though it seemed like the most likely culprit. Although recently efforts had been made to lessen the amount of Mako extracted, Shinra Power Corp. wasn’t exactly going out of business. Humanity was still tapping the Lifestream’s power, literally draining the earth dry. This wouldn’t be the first time that Shinra’s greed had birthed a monster.

“Coming up on Edge, sir!” a crewman called, “We’ll be overhead in less than a minute!”

“Bring us overhead and maintain position!” Cid called, a fresh cigarette dangling from his lip. “Vin, I know you’re not going to listen to me, but this is dangerous! We should wait for the others. What if it really is a Weapon? What is Omega is back?!”

Omega. The cloaked warrior shook his head. “I’m just dropping down look at Rift I. I’ll be fine.” The largest rift, the most dangerous. Foolish? Perhaps. He got to his feet, walking quickly to the main deck. He pulled a hi-tech surfboard-sized sheet of metal from the wall as he passed. Laying it on the track at his feet, he stepped on and buckled himself to it. “Ready when you are.”

The deck of the Shera slowly opened like the maw of an almighty beast. Air burst through the growing gap ahead, whipping Vincent’s cloak violently around him. Air poured into the vessel, exposing the dark night below. The airship’s deck continued to lower, pointing Vincent toward the gap. He braced himself as he felt his board begin to slide below his feet as force overcame friction. Bending at the knee, he lowered his center of gravity and soon shot down the track, off the ramp and out into the open air. The city of Edge lay a few hundred feet blow, with Rift I being almost directly beneath the Shera. Vincent extended his arms as if walking a tightrope, in this way steering himself toward the ground below. The weight of the device he was strapped to served to aim him feet-first and prevent a nose dive, whilst he created his own descent path. He soon reached terminal velocity, spiraling toward the ground in wide circles as wind blasted his ears. As he neared the ground, the ‘board’ made a sharp chiming noise, followed by a loud clang as the back shot off and the parachute was deployed. He slowed, the parachute pulling the board vertical and causing him to fall nose first. The raven-haired man quickly ducked, unbuckling each foot simultaneously and sprang forward off the board. He hit the ground at a crouch, tumbling a few times before standing, unscathed. His ride didn’t fare so well, imbedding itself into the cement behind him.

Valentine took a moment to steady himself before walking toward his goal: a mere thirty feet ahead of him stood his objective, Rift I. The chasm was unmistakable in the otherwise dusky darkness, bathing the area in a dazzling green light. He reached the edge of the rift, peering over the edge. His hand instinctively found his sidearm, Cerberus, drawing it from its holster. Although the city had been safely abandoned, he was wary of the possibility of an attack. With the amount of radiation and Mako vapor in the air, this was not outside of the realm of possibility. Mako was known for its mutagenic properties, twisting ordinary people into vile monsters. Vincent himself was living proof.

His weapon drawn, he looked carefully over the edge. The sight was both breathtakingly beautiful and absolutely terrifying. Vincent was looking into the heart of the planet, something no one was meant to behold. He saw the swirling mass of Lifestream below, pulsing with power and energy. It both blinded and deafened him, the raw power flowing chaotically like a storm at sea. For a moment, he could hear far-off whispers within his mind from the souls of the departed, now united in the core of the planet. He could feel the stifling heat pouring through the now gaping vent, warming his pale skin. A flash of light far below, brighter than the rest of the ‘stream’, suddenly caught his eye. A flash of…red light?

What…Vincent wondered, squinting at the swirling material below him.

As if to answer his inquiry, the ground below him gave a sudden, monumental heave. The gunslinger was knocked to the ground, flinging Cerberus as he fell. He watched as his gun quickly disappeared into the chasm, the earth still quaking beneath him. Huge chunks of pavement loosed themselves from the rim of the chasm, plummeting downward, following his now lost ‘friend’. Vincent had little time to consider the loss as yet another quake tossed him like a rag doll. Pavement again rained into the pit as he scrambled to clear the edge. He felt panic rising in his chest as he took off at a run away from the rift.

Now sprinting from the schism, the gunslinger fumbled in his pocket and extracted his cell phone. His fingers found only the first digit before yet another harsh vibration shook it from his gloved hand. He turned to see the ground behind him crumbling, falling helplessly into the rift. Rift I, which now had widened by nearly 20 feet and was quickly gaining on him. The raven-haired warrior resumed his sprint, racing toward the center of town. The familiar feeling of panic rose in his throat as a wide crack split the asphalt not five feet in front of him. He stopped abruptly, avoiding the spray of caustic material. This proved to be a mistake as he felt gravity shift beneath him and the slab he now stood on slide backward and downward, plummeting into the blinding abyss.

Vincent gazed downward as he fell, the blinding light slowly fading to darkness. Darkness, silence and calm.

In that moment he ceased to exist.

“My name is Omni…”

[Maximillion]

They were beginning to annoy him, all of them.


All the new entrants from the Fountain of Infinity all came, were silent for a few moments, paid no mind to the others around them, then would go straight to either Bradley or Thrall's side without much thought or consideration to the others gathered there. They didn't bother to see if any alliances could be formed, which was foolish; they didn't bother to ask whether whatever they sought, if they even knew what that was, could be found in any of the respective worlds, which was reckless; and they didn't seem to pay enough mind to those around them to profile the personalities of the other entities around them, in the case that there was a future encounter, which was very careless.

He didn't have to ask himself whether he had been that careless in the past or not; he knew he had been, off and on throughout his protracted lifetime, when he was naïve enough to think that he could trust what people did and said at face value, for surely they were concerned enough with meeting their ends that they would take time to size up who they could trust, who they could ally themselves with, and how the offers presented to them might work for or against their endeavors.

But no, it seemed most just ignored the others gathered there, interested only in those who made themselves immediately available. Sure, the two clad in red and black were engaging in banter with one another, but that was about it, the extent of any real interaction between the new 'Primes' who had made it into this strange world.

Well, he wouldn't make the same mistake. If nothing else, he would at least introduce himself to those who seemed competent and useful, and who might possess the intelligence to know his own worth.

The first one he would approach was the odd, zany man clad in red and black, with a similar mask over his face. The man had called the other red-and-black clad man Skinhead, which was a term Maximillion recognized, and found funny. The man had a muscular build about him, and although he made odd, off-the-wall remarks every few seconds, or so it seemed, he seemed intelligent, and had a good grasp of his environment, which was a useful asset. Making his way over to the other man, he would extend a hand quietly..

"Greetings," Maximillion said quietly, prepared to shake the man's hand, and half expecting the man to try and pull some kind of prank, or make some kind of off-the-wall remark. Maybe he'll surprise me, the ebony man thought as he held his hand out, a stoic expression on his face, but an inviting gleam in his eyes.

"My name is Maximillion, and who might you be?"

* * *
FLASHBACK
* * *

"Why am I here?"

Upon appearing in the black-turned-white expanse around himself and the odd figure who had introduced himself as Omni, he had immediately begun asking questions, which suited his inquisitive nature well.

"Why are you here?" Omni replied, seemingly entertained by Maximillion's question. The entity's odd, intelligent, yet somewhat childish personality had intrigued the ebony man to no end, and he suspected this entity knew that well.

"It's true, I may be here by my own design, Karma, some kind of Divine Providence, or a fluke in the space-time continuum. Unfortunately, that's not something I have an answer to, of current."

He studied the Omni entity curiously as the latter eyed him, as though deep in thought. Does he find me amusing? Humorous? Annoying? Troublesome? Or is he reserving judgment? the ebony man puzzled silently, interested in what this individual might tell him, and how it might help him in this new 'afterlife', or 'after-life' of sorts.

"You didn't come here by your own power did you? Did you cast a spell, chant a mantra, or rub a magic lamp to get here?"

Maximillion shook his head in response to Omni's query.

"No, I did not. Last I recall, I was killed, shot down. I was in an odd Feudal-Era style Dimension, and lived the life of a young orphan raised by a kindly, yet amazingly skilled Samurai who opposed the oppression of our alien dictators. I held my own fair enough, but when compared to other lives I have lived, I didn't think that one all too interesting. Individuals I've met in new dimensions have no knowledge nor interest in my past exploits, yet you somehow seem aware of them."

Omni didn't respond right away, which piqued Maximillion's curiosity more. Just when he thought he could wait no longer for an answer, Omni finally gave one.

"This is the Omniverse. I have brought interesting people from different places here. The 'why' of the matter isn't so easily explained, nor am I ready to tell you. You understand, don't you?"

Omni was speaking in riddles. Is this typical? Maximillion found himself wondering as he eyed the entity curiously, sensing the immense power radiating from it. In fact, he had to force himself to stifle his heightened senses, because the more he tried to probe the entity and figure out what it was, the more he was filled with an unspeakable anxiety, frustration, and feeling as though every one of his senses was being overwhelmed...and that, if he didn't stop probing, he could well be knocked unconscious, or perhaps even killed, from an 'overdose' of this entity's very Being.

"Are you one of the many Gods mentioned in the realms I have visited in times prior? Or are you perhaps just one of those omnipotent entities who exist in this plane, and no other? What is your influence in the other dimensions, and have I ever encountered you before?"

He knew the answer to this may or may not be given to him. Only twice or thrice in his life had he ever been privileged with speaking to an Omniscient or Omnipotent (or both) being, and he had found that each meeting had filled up his proverbial 'tank' when he was at the brink of giving up on living, when the curiosities of the world no longer seemed appetizing, and it seemed all secrets had been discovered, all obscure knowledge learned, all possibilities explored.

He wanted to ask Omni how he would absorb all the knowledge, perhaps even power, this realm had to offer. He wanted to ask what the key to power was, and if there were any tips, tricks or hints he could receive about how he would go about finding the answers to these questions..

But that would have been rude, irreverent. Those who others thought of as 'deities', they rarely had patience for that kind of irreverence, preferring instead a curious, fertile mind that was willing to harvest and cultivate itself under the care and tenacity of it's Possessor.

So, this he would give, this he would provide.

"If it is not too impetuous, I would like to ask to see you again soon. I will spend as much time as I can getting to know what this new Existence consists of, and what it takes to acquire all that I desire anywhere I go."

[Maximillion]

Maximillion stood there, watching each of the new arrivals, each one reminding him of someone, or something, he had encountered in one of his many travels. There was the green clad man with blonde hair and that odd green cap who reminded him of the Elves of Ael'Laudraen, a red and black clad man who donned a costume like a superhero or cosplayer, and an odd assortment of beings, each of whom he was sure had their own stories, their own histories, their own adventures and misadventures, and the things they had done during their lifetimes that had made them special enough to attract the attention of the great Omni.

Omni...

Each time that name rang through his head, he felt like there was something in the forefront of his mind, on the tip of his tongue that he needed to say, or something he needed to express, that would make this whole mystery somehow clearer, and would make everything he had experienced, perhaps everything the others had experienced as well, put into clearer perspective. But the more he struggled to try and bring it to the surface, the more he tried to mouth the syllables, to give presence and meaning to this unknown concept, idea or thing, the more he was faced with futility. Surely, whatever it was, it was not going to come, and he was likely forming a mental block over his thoughts just trying to conjure it.

The words spoken by those beyond his proverbial Internal Bubble, and the actions of those beyond it, would become hazy and blurry as he began to look inside of himself, so to speak. He mentally conjured up a virtualized grid of sorts inside off his mind, as the Xenothrin Monks of old had taught him to do when his thoughts, or his emotions, were in turmoil. He began to envision the grid of his mind, the thoughts that kept circling around in his thoughts, and would see first his death of sorts in the Reality in which he had been just a young boy Samurai. He would probe further back and see himself as an Egyptian named Ramses who had drunk a special elixir and had gained pale blue eyes and an indestructable body that restored itself and become stronger with exposure to sunlight. He probed further back and saw himself as Nat Turner, a slave who led his fellow slaves into a rebellion that cost the lives of several of their overseers and slave owners, only for all of the slaves to lose their lives as well. He probed further back and saw himself at an Institute for Gifted Youngsters, where his unusual abilities were considered 'the result of the X Gene', rather than his being born a Dhampir....or wait, Dhampirs hadn't existed in that Reality, so they had called him something else....what was it? Oh yeah, a 'Mutant'.

In his mind, the many lives he'd led would cascade across his vision, each one of them having one or two tiles highlighted in a glowing red, and with that glow came that feeling that he was supposed to do something, or say something, or recall something. Yet, even as he virtually 'materialized' inside the grid of his own mind, approaching the glowing red tiles, he found himself unable to get within four virtual feet of the tile. Each time he tried, the red would turn to off-white and he couldn't make contact with it at all. He would then venture to each of the other isolated memories that were glowing red, and each of them reacted in kind as well. He finally made a mental command for all the 'normal' memory tiles to remove themselves from view, leaving only a few dozen glowing white tiles in their stead, each of them depicting him doing the same thing he was doing now, only in the guise, the appearance, of the life he had lived at the time.

What is it you are trying to tell me? He thought to himself, almost angry that he, with his uncanny ability to pull up any memory from any point of time, however long ago or recent, at a second's notice, was proving useless against whatever force was blocking these memories from him.


And then it hit him!


What do I have to do to regain the power I initially wielded, in the first life I lived?

This was the thought! It is the thought he'd had in every lifetime, frustrated with the limitations each realm had placed upon him, preventing him from tapping the full extent of the powers he remembered having, because each Reality had within it a set of restrictions, or a 'Law of Physics', or it's own reality that meant that certain things he knew himself to have could not manifest so long as he was within that realm.

"Omni told me to acquire Omnilium, that attaining it in large quantities would be the key to my success. What I don't understand is, how will I come by it? Will I buy it? Will I trade it? Will I perform tasks for it, or will I begin to grow in strength as time goes on, much like the Dark Ones on my father's side of the family?"

Deep within the confines of his mind, Maximillion 'said' - rather, thought - this to himself a number of times, and the thoughts would bounce around the virtual chamber that was the inside of his mind. He raised a virtual finger to his mouth and bit down on his thumbnail, a nervous habit he had when something was puzzling, troubling and perplexing him.

What was the key to finding out the secrets this 'Omniverse' had? What was the key to attaining the power necessary to come into his full power, and find a way to assert himself, his very presence, into the fold here, to proudly proclaim I am Maximillion, hear me roar! ?

Shaking his head, he would snap his fingers, and the virtualization of his mind would vanish, first the grids, then the imagery, then he would raise his head and be looking outwards again.

So far as anyone was concerned, Maximillion's head had only been bowed for about six seconds, although he felt as though he had been in that Trance for the better part of a half hour. With a sigh, he would fold his arms over his chest, look around him, and his eyes would narrow considerably.

I must find where Omni resides, if he does truly reside here with us in this Omniverse, and I must find out where the source of all Power, all Magic, all Chaos, all Order, all Light, all Darkness, and all everything is within this realm, if I am to recapture what is rightfully mine. He thought, a gleam of resolve strong in his eyes.

I will make my destiny my own, seize it, and show every one of them what I'm capable of.