Day One: Part 1

[Retane]

(Before the Hammer)

Retane stood there looking up into the morning sky. Jack was standing there beside him marking off the dead zones. The Emerald Fiend had left him in charge of keeping up with it. It was still dark, and the namek felt this was his favorite time. He had sniffed Jack out rather easily, and the Guardian looked unscathed, still a virgin to the violence and carnage of the Abyss. The namek looked his fellow Horsemen and wondered if either of them were truly ready ready for their next act.

Stop ignoring me. I know you can hear me. I feel you so close now. Just accept me! Give into my arm embrace. I promise you will enjoy it. You always enjoy it.

The Emerald warrior looked around. The voice in his head and truly become stronger. It sounded strangely familiar, though the Horsmen couldn't put a finger on it. It was almost as if he was feeling a slight since of dejavu, but his memories wouldn't let him through to grasp at the answer. The namek was always searching for answers. He was growing weary of it. He let out low growl, only one that Frost would pick up on and glanced back, "Whats wrong?"

The namekian shook his head, not wanting to talk about it, "Let's go. We are going for that 'Fancy Hammer'."

The icer eyed his comrade for a moment, "Any particular reason?"

Retane paused for a moment and looked Jack in the eye and watched as a chopper flew slowly overhead giving his decision one final thought. "A few. We need better weapons then this bull shit, first off. Plus we need to gauge the competition. See how willing others are to put their lives on their line. Some will be desperate, some will be greedy. They will show themselves though. And they will learn, just as the rest of the Abyss will learn, that the Horsemen have come. Plus you need to feel the wrath of the Abyss, see it unfold first hand."

"So you want me to look banged up like you?" Jack offered a slight chuckle.

"You need to know what you got yourself into... If we get split up though, meet me back here."


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(After the Hammer)

The namekian, his back against a tree, looked down at his throbbing foot He wouldn't remove his foot to check it out. The boot kept the pressure on it, and the walk from the battle had allowed him to get back to the rendezvous spot. He had used the pole-arm for the first part of the trek as a cane of sorts, slowly putting more and more pressure on his left foot as his adrenaline slowed down. By the time he had reached his destination he was walking nearly fine. Now he slowly kept putting pressure on it to keep it warmed and ready to go at a moment's notice.

The Emerald Warrior looked up at his first trophy, the glaive. A pole-axe with a wicked blade, and a way to keep his foe at a distance. It was something deadly in the right hands. The right hands, being his own. The namekian twirled the blade around a single hand, from front to back, keeping it centered with ease, and with the passed it to the other hand, still keeping the rotation. It was well balanced and the namekian was confident it would it would end a few lives.

The Emerald Warrior had thought about giving it to Jack Frost, but not now. He couldn't just give up a weapon he couldn't just really give up the only weapon that was his best chance at taking the lives of others. Sure the dented mirror and his hands had done some work, but he wasn't his usual self. He didn't have his normal strength to just kill people with ease. He was weaker, and while that made him feel as if he was backed into a corner and made him just as vicious, he needed something to counter act the ranged attacks like the one that could have really wrecked him and Jack Frost.

Thank you! I needed that! You soaked our roots. You made us so happy. Thank you so much! We missed you.

The namekian straightened himself then as he slowly looked back at the tree he leaned against. Of course that was the voice. It was the trees. It was this place itself that had calling out to him. It was Dante's Abyss. The Emerald Warrior took a deep breath at the realization and tried to focus. He shook his head, hoping he was wrong, but he remembered the other trees in the Tangled Greens reaching out and speaking too him. The orgosynth on his right shoulder flared up and the namek grasped at his head, trying to stop it all.

The orgosynth seemed to be growing stronger now with each activation. It loved the fighting, it pushed on his inner desires and begged to be used always now. For some reason the Emerald Fiend had no problem activating it, it was almost a release of ecstasy and power. It made him stronger and he couldn't help but enjoy it. It allowed him to do what needed to be done. But now the namekian had to wonder what the hell was going on within him. He had the trees in his head; He had the Malefactor seeking more pleasure with each fight, wanting more violence and blood lust; And Jack Frost still hadn't showed back up

Then, almost at once, a soothing noise called out. He heard a howl of a wolf. He wasn't sure if it was in his head or if a wolf was really out there. But it calmed the anxiety he was feeling, nearly instantly. It was then that Retane realized his was staring at a pair of eyes.

Bloody eyes. Eyes in his hand. He had ripped the eyeballs out of his first kill.