Settling Scores

[Strazio Rockwell]

The dunes were particularly windy upon Strazio’s return. Whips of sand and wind assaulted the poor prime, forcing him to hunch over and pull his white cloak tight against his body. Strazio growled and pushed forward through the veritable whirlwind of sand and dust. He couldn’t see where he was going and hoped that he was heading towards civilization, or at least outside of the twister. His boots dug trenches that were quickly filled with shifting sand. Eventually, after what seemed to be an eternity the worst of the wind had subsided and the prime was finally able to see. In the distance a small town crawled over the horizon. Thirsty and tired from the whirlwind Strazio hoped that they would be welcoming to newcomers.

He also noticed several other small dots on the horizon, they looked like people, but the Defender of Darkshire couldn’t be sure. They were moving towards him, but they were still at least thirty minutes away, but they did seem intent on intercepting him before he reached the town. Strazio had seen this kind of predatory behavior before, bandits would often intercept people just as they were heading into town. I am not in the mood to deal with fucking scavengers right now the prime fumed to himself. It was odd, walking towards an inevitable conflict, both parties knew that it would end in blood long before they reached one another and yet as if possessed they continued their path. There were five vultures in total, they all looked seedy and shifty.

Strazio tried to walk past them, simply brushing them off in hopes that they would have the better sense to leave him alone. Unfortunately it was simply in their nature to cause trouble.

“Hold it right there bub” the grimiest of the five commanded Strazio, who, with a sigh, froze in his tracks. The prime kept his back turned, refusing to show the scavengers any form of respect. The pack of dogs surrounded the prime, who kept his head low and hood high.

“There’s a toll to get into the town bub, three hundred O.M. And we won’t fuck you up.”

Fucking savages Strazio thought they don’t even try any theatrics, just straight to the point. The Defender of Darkshire kept his head low, hoping in vain that they would leave him alone.

“Hey! You fuckin’ deaf or what bub?”

“You bettah listen to him if ya knows what’s good for ya. Ee’s gotta tempah” the runt of the pack chuckled. Strazio laughed slightly and responded “Oh? He’s got a temper?”

“You some kinda dumbass bub? This ain’t fuckin’ Camelot, we’ll gut you like a bitch” the leader of the pack raised his weapon high, a twisted wooden bat. The bandit brought the bat down, hoping to crack Strazio’s head open. Unfortunately Strazio wasn’t a bitch, no he was far from it. A bright flash of white light ripped through the air, leaving behind a shattered bat and a thunderclap. Strazio’s hood had fallen in the exchange, revealing his white hair and a wicked grimace.
“You’ve got a fucking temper!? I’ll rip your fucking throat out!” Strazio roared, a decade worth of rage poured forth. Upon recognizing the prim, the leader of the group stumbled backwards with a yelp. The group of scavengers stood in fear and awe, realizing that their opponent was the fifth place finalist in the Abyss. Before they could react another burst of energy tore into a bandit, mortally wounding him and sending red across the sand. Like roaches they scattered, each of them fleeing frantically from the prey turned predator. Strazio moved quickly, grabbing the leader by back of his collar. He slammed the would-be bandit into the sand and stomped on his stomach.

“You’ve started this, you can’t fucking leave now!” the Avatar of Rage growled and kicked the vulture in the ribs.

“Please don’t kill me! Oh Omni, please don’t!”

Strazio’s teeth clenched tightly and sparks of energy jumped from his body. He wanted to blast a hole in the parasite’s head. An idea crossed his mind, he would use this dog as a bargaining chip to gain favor with the nearby town.

“Get up...” he growled and pulled the bandit to his feet “now walk.”

“Oh...ok ok” the bandit whined as Strazio pushed him forward, towards the town. The two trudged forward in silence and the Defender pulled his hood back over his head. Soon enough they had reached the town. It was a shabby little town, looking much like the desert enclaves from Strazio’s world. The Defender wandered around with his “friend” in tow, trying to find the local law enforcement. The town was organized as if someone had thrown darts at a map.

Finally, after getting frustrated from wandering Strazio asked his buddy “where would I go about turning you in?”

“Fuck off bub, like I’m telling you that” he barked back.

“IF you don’t tell me I’ll just kill ya”

The bandit shuffled back and forth before replying “you try it and you’re a murderer, in fact...” The vulture began to walk away from Strazio, who grabbed his arm and pulled him close.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“Heh, let go of me bub. Ain’t no one gonna believe you if you slaughter me. So you can go fuck yourself.” Strazio’s grip relaxed, he had a point. The seedy bastard faded into the crowd and Strazio sighed. He wasn’t in a position to god chasing after some two-bit bandit in a foreign town. The defender was left with disappointment and a sour disposition. He had a feeling that this would be a common occurrence in this town.

“How fucking obnoxious.”

[Strazio Rockwell]

Letting the bandit escape left a sour sick feeling in Strazio’s gut. You can’t scare cockroaches like that, sure they’ll scurry away but when you shut off the lights they always come back. Strazio smirked slightly, hoping that the man would come back because next time the Defender of Darkshire would not be so amicable. His revenge fantasy was cut short by a twisting feeling in his guts. He hadn’t eaten since the Abyss and what he had eaten could barely have been called food. Strazio frowned and began the search for a bar or cafe or anything that served meat.

“This town is a madhouse” he mumbled to himself.

The town was laid out poorly, most likely due to the less-than-wholesome nature of its residents. There were many dead ends and shady alleyways that even a prime wouldn’t dare venture through. His hunger mixed with the heat threw him into a strange state of delirium. The Defender grumbled to himself and cursed heat and sand every so often, hoping that with enough disdain they would have no choice but to leave. Eventually, after much heat-fevered fumbling Strazio finally found a small bar. He stumbled through a pair of batwing styled doors and gained the attention of every badass in the bar. Strazio didn’t feel like smacking around a bar’s worth of thugs, but hunger and thirst forced him inside.

He found a secluded corner of the bar and sat down, removing his hood in the process. The prime paid no attention to the onlooker and instead motioned for the server. She was a younger gal, probably late teens or early twenties. She had soft brown hair and a rough disposition.

“What’ll is be?” the server asked impatiently.

Ignoring her sour disposition Strazio answered her “water... A lot of it please. And something with meat, maybe a burger?”

“Gotcha...” she turned away to get Strazio’s food and drink

Somewhere in a shadier part of The Town with No Name

Tony Turreto was a brickwall of a man, almost standing seven feet tall and weighing in at a muscle-bound three-hundred pounds. He made his home base in a less-than-reputable brothel and acted as a lieutenant for the Sledge Gang. Word travels fast and one of the mooks that had tried to jump Strazio had ran back to Tony. The lieutenant listened to his crony’s story while chomp on a large cigar and guzzling down a glass of wine.

“So you’se telling me that he’s one of them Abyss finalists?”

“Yeah, ya shoulda seen him boss he laid out Murdock like it was nuffin. Bolt’a’white lightning and the poor kid was half-dead.”

Tony grinned before taking a large gulp of wine “is that so?” He chuckled deep and low, before finishing off his drink. The lackey nodded, confirming what he had previously said. Tony motioned for another glass of wine and lit a fat cigar before continuing.

“If he’s a finalist like ya say he is, then gather up some of the boys and bust his fucking head in. He’s gotta have some nice Omnilium or something of value from making that far in the Abyss.”

“B...but boss he’s strong and...”

Tony glared at his underling, freezing the smaller man mid sentence. He took a deep drag of his cigar and exhaled, consuming his henchman with a cloud of smoke.

“A single prime ain’t a match for the Sledge Gang ya here me!? Now I’mma gonna say this one more time and you better listen. Gather up the boys and bust his fucking head in, if you can’t do that. Well, you better hope he kills yah”

“Ye..yes boss.”

With that the smaller gangster scurried off. Tony frowned and reclined back in his lazy boy chair, kicking his feet up onto his desk. He had been dealing with too many of these damned primes lately. The Lieutenant feared that he would personally have to step in soon and take care of his “problems”. The mountain of a man chuckled at the thought of taking down an Abyss finalist, hell he would be content taking down any prime. Such an accomplishment would net him some reputation among the gang and boost his already massive ego.

In a small little bar in a town without a name.

The famished prime had already torn through his meal and was now relaxing in the corner of a smoke-filled bar. He decided to skin through the pages of his artifact and was shocked to find what was written within. Profane rituals and unholy spells filled the pages, but it seemed that most of the incantations were incomplete or outright impossible. Strazio could feel a slight scratching at the back of his mind as he read the damned pages. The Defender of Darkshire took a gulp of water and shut the book, taking a moment to process what he had read. He didn’t want to have to rely on such profane magicks, but he was used to making sacrifices in the name of gaining power.

Strazio flagged the server down and paid his tab. Before she left the prime asked her a question "excuse me, I just got here a couple hours ago. Could you tell me where I'm at?... the town I mean."

She barely held back a sigh before responding "you're in The Town with No Name."

"Uhm... what?" Strazio raised an eyebrow, unsure of what she meant.

"That's the name of this place, The Town with No Name."

The prime chuckled a bit "alright, whatever. Thanks for the help." He stood up and pulled his white hood over his head, hoping to avoid any more attention. The Defender left the bar and was greeted by the oppressive sand and sun. With a groan the prime pushed forward into the town, hoping to find some form of transportation to Nippur. He still had a score to settle with the golden king, he proved himself in the Abyss and now he had to prove himself before Gilgamesh. A thought did pop into his head, the red-headed bastard that broke his arm had said that he lived in the Dunes as well. Maybe Gilgamesh could wait Strazio thought as he smirked slightly maybe I'll pay that red-haired prick a visit. He knew it would be like finding a needle in a haystack, but the prime had experience with hunting people. After all he had spent the last ten years of his life hunting down Damien, how hard could it be to find someone that invited him over?

[Ganondorf]

Taking in a deep breath, Ganondorf filled himself with the smell and feel of the desert air. He was home again. All around, the Town with No Name bustled with post-Abyss activity. While it was far less busy than it had been when the Gerudo had first learned of Karl Jak’s game, here and there groups of people discussed the games. Several pointed in his direction and let loose a hoot of excitement. Ganon grinned and nodded to them in return. It seemed that despite his failure to win the event, he HAD gained a following. The Demon Lord felt a slight gratitude toward his previous host for that. His little detour to Karl Jak’s island, while a painful ordeal and unfruitful in terms of gaining powerful artifacts, had nonetheless increased the Gerudo’s popularity amongst the rabble, and his strength as well. His muscles flowed with eldritch might he’d not felt since before Omni had abducted him. His senses were honed to extraordinary levels, to the point where it seemed he could almost predict the future. The Gerudo’s grin turned to laughter as he reveled in his improved ability.

Still, his loss in Dante’s Abyss grated on the Gerudo King. To have come so far, only to fail... and to die by the hands of that prim pansy! It was infuriating. If there was any part of that ordeal Ganondorf wished had happened differently, it was that. Even his time spent with his nemesis, Link, was a far better experience than falling by that man’s hands. It was nearly as embarrassing as his loss to Enel. Both of those men were equally egotistical and grating. Annoyances which he would deal with soon enough. But first…

His time here in the Omniverse had been marred by failures and setbacks from the very beginning, and it was no wonder why. Ganondorf had HAD no purpose. Without a Hyrule to conquer, without a Triforce to gather, without a Hero to vanquish, he had been as a boat without a rudder. But no longer was the Lord of the Gerudo without a cause. For he knew what he need do. He would bring order to this Omniverse. He would unite its people in peace, prosperity, and love. And he would force it upon them, if they would balk at his utopia. A world without war, without pain and suffering, without crime. This was the world Ganondorf would bring to his charges. And all it would require was their freedom. A paltry sacrifice for what they would gain in return.

The great Gerudo King chuckled softly to himself and began a trek towards the Sheriff’s Office. He would speak with Mr. Deschain and divulge him of his plan. And if the Sheriff proved recalcitrant… well, he would be dealt with as well. Ganondorf’s walk was regaled by the cheers and acclaim of his fans, and he waved to the people as a hero would. For, to them, that’s what he was. Perhaps convincing Roland of the righteousness of his rule would be easier than he thought.

[Strazio Rockwell]

With food and drink in his belly Strazio felt more confident in the desert town. The people of the nameless town wandered about each with their own purpose, taking no mind to the prime. He had taken his white cloak off in the early stages of the Abyss and figured few people would recognize him so long as he wore it. That was fine by him, the last thing he needed was to be slowed down by people wanting to rub elbows with him. No, he was on the hunt for a certain red-haired king. Still finding someone that he hardly knew in a foreign town would be no easy feat. Hell, it was even optimistic to think that Ganondorf would be there, but Strazio had to start from somewhere.

The town itself was a melting pot of various nomads and renegades of society. Merchants and shady characters lined the dusty streets and offered their discounted and exotic wares to anyone foolish enough to burn Omnilium on them. The key to hunting someone is finding a trail and he hoped that someone would be able to point him in the right direction. Carefully and methodically he made friends with various merchants, feigning interest in their exotic tapestries and rare trinkets. Every single shopkeeper tried to pry Strazio from his Omnilium, but he kept his wits about him and tried to pry back for information. Several merchants knew of the Gerudo king, but none of them could provide any useful information.

Perhaps it was the heat or the aggressive salesmen, but after several attempts Strazio quickly became disheartened. This town is nothing but vultures Strazio mused, taking a break from his search and finding a seat on a stack of boxes. Nearby he noticed a grizzled older man, resting against the same building that Strazio was leaned against. The man had several days worth of stubble and wore a black and red cloak. However, his most noticeable quality was his arm, or rather the lack of one. His right arm was missing from the elbow down, with a simple bandage wrapped around the stump. Figuring he had nothing to lose Strazio looked over to him and spoke.

“Hey there, couldn’t help but notice your arm” the mage spoke matter-of-factley.

The older gentleman chuckled “hell of a greeting, what d’ya want?” His voice was rough and sounded like he had sand in his throat.

“Sorry for being so blunt... Just trying to make conversation is all. I’m not from around here...” Strazio began to trail off and stare into the distance.

“You didn’t have to tell me, you definitely look out of place.”

Strazio shrugged and motioned towards his new found acquaintance “you don’t look like you belong here either.” It was true, the crimson and black cloak was a stark contrast to the average citizen’s tan or brown outfit. However it was worn and faded presumably by the assault of the whips of windy-sand.

“Yeah, I suppose. Name’s Isaac.”

“Strazio Rockwell, pleasure to meet you.” After their introduction a pregnant pause filled the air. Isaac’s demeanor had changed, he seemed to be more on guard and focused than before. Before Strazio could break the silence his friend did it for him.

“So you’re one of those bloodthirsty Abyss fighters?” a slight hint of venom slipped from his lips.

The question caught Strazio off guard and he stumbled to think of a reply. This was the first time his new-found fame had brought apparent ire.

Isaac continued “I’ve seen more than my fair share of carnage” he moved his stump to punctuate his point. The red-cloaked man continued his quite tirade “but, that contest made me sick to my gut. To spill blood for the sake of entertainment is nothing short of barbaric.”

A small spark of white energy crackled across Strazio’s clenched fist. Slowly and with a subtle anger he responded “I didn’t fight for the sake of fighting. I fought for the people of Darkshire”

“However you justify it, whatever you tell me. At the end of the day you fought in a needless contest of carnage.”

“How dare you” Strazio’s anger sparked and forced his voice to tremble “I fought so that I could save the people of Darkshire. They live in a constant state of fear and oppression and you’re going to condemn me for fighting in their name? Yeah, blood was spilled and there was carnage for the sake of carnage, but if that is the cost of their freedom than I will gladly pay it.” His fervor surprised even him, it had been a long time since he felt a purpose beyond hunting Damien. Isaac stood silent, keeping his thousand yard stare.

“I still don’t agree with it, but it is refreshing to find a prime who isn’t only out to serve himself. Tell me, if you’re out to serve Darkshire, what brings you here?”

Just like that the situation was seemingly diffused. A few residual sparks of energy danced across Strazio’s flesh, but he felt strangely relieved. “I’m here to find someone, a contestant actually. His name is Ganondorf, he’s tall with red-hair.”

“The one that broke your arm?”

“Yeah, you know for someone so against the contest you seem to know quite a bit about it.”

Isaac shrugged “so are you planning on hunting him down for kicking your ass in the Abyss?”

“No” Strazio lied.

“You’re a bad liar. Why would you feel any ill-will towards him? You knew why you two were there, why are you upset at him for playing the game?”

A good question, one that Strazio didn’t have an answer for. He hadn’t realized that his disdain for the Gerudo was relatively unjustified. The Defender felt embarrassed by this epiphany, but refused to show it.

“He invited me out here, you wouldn’t happen to know where he’s at would you?”

Isaac scoffed at Strazio’s request. “Why should I help you with your petty revenge fantasy?”

“You’ve got me wrong Isaac. I have no desire to hunt him down... I need allies, and the primes who participated in the Abyss would make a perfect team to kill Dracula and free Darkshire.” He lied again, trying to justify his hunt for Ganon. For a few moments the two were again silent, Isaac’s sharp eyes studied Strazio. Those sharp blue eyes cut through the prime and laid his soul bare.

“Very well, I saw him heading towards the sheriff’s office a few streets over... I’m only telling you this because I think you honestly have a good heart. Don’t prove me wrong Strazio.”

The Defender thanked Isaac for the information and promised him that he had not made a mistake. He said his goodbyes and left at a quick pace. It was destiny, or at least a ridiculous stroke of luck that Strazio had ran into Isaac. Still, it made him reconsider his actions. Perhaps he had been guided by rage for so long that he knew nothing other than conflict. Even now he knew not why he was so deadset on finding Ganondorf. Would he really attack the red-haired king just because he had been smacked around by Ganon in the Abyss? The crisis of conscious was silenced when he saw his mark. Red-haired and tall the Gerudo King had yet to notice the White-cloaked Defender. Quickly and with purpose Strazio half-ran to catch up with Ganondorf. The two were merely a few feet apart before Strazio made himself known.

“Hey! You, Ganondorf!” he exclaimed, catching the Gerudo King’s attention.

[Ganondorf]

“Hey! You, Ganondorf!”

At those shouted words, the Gerudo’s trek to the Sheriff was stopped in mid-stride and he looked about him himself curiously. Coming from behind, and seeming to be in somewhat of a hurry to meet him, was a man he had only seen twice before. Yet both of their meetings had been memorable ones. Ganondorf’s lips twisted into an amused grin as he turned on his heel to face the shorter man.

“Well! This IS a surprise. I hadn’t expected that you’d actually take me up on my offer. Welcome to the Endless Dunes, Mr. ‘Heretowin’,” Ganondorf said with wry amusement. The cloaked fighter glared at the Gerudo’s obvious mockery, his fists clenching in response to the rise of red in his cheeks and neck. The Demon King held his hands up in mock surrender and chuckled a reply.

“Well, I’m afraid you’d never deigned to share your name. Still, I hope you aren’t upset about how things played out on that island. Of course it was nothing personal, my friend. As you yourself said, I was merely there to win.”

Ganon’s words pricked at his own ego as he said them, a reminder that he had, in fact, lost. The fellow standing before him also seemed irritated by the Gerudo King’s words, his lips twisting in a snarl as his eyes attained that far-off focus of memory. Of course, it may have simply been the reminder of what Ganondorf had done to him that irked the white-haired gentleman. The crowd, which had gathered to cheer for the Gerudo King, went silent in anticipation. The tension between the two men was palpable, the Gerudo’s words causing wide-spread recognition of his companion, and they fully expected an encore of their epic battles in Dante’s Abyss.

“The name’s Strazio Rockwell,” Ganondorf’s new friend said after a brief pause, the man’s lips tightening as though he were struggling with the decision to divulge his name. His body visibly relaxed as he continued speaking.

“Look, I can’t say I’m not pissed off about that shit you pulled, but I guess I can’t really blame you for it either. It’s not like I would have done anything different, in your shoes.”

“Hmph.” Ganondorf snorted in amused reply, to Straz, his arms crossing over his massive, armored chest. He nodded in respect to the Defender of Darkshire, a slight inclination of his head. The boy was a hothead, sometimes literally as the Gerudo knew all too well, but it seemed that he could control himself, when he felt like it. It was possible that Ganondorf could use this man to attain his goals. A power like his would certainly be a useful tool.

Then again, Ganondorf thought as he reminisced over his meeting with Enel and their inevitable clash, Tools like THAT had a tendency to wear out their usefulness in short measure.

The masses which surrounded the two, collectively sighed at the now defused situation, unhappy to not be able to witness a fight between the two Dante’s Abyss competitors first-hand. Their disappointment was short-lived as, nearby; a reptilian roar broke the calm. The crowd dispersed in a panic, leaving the men alone in the center of the Town with No Name’s main street. And with the view cleared, the cause of the roar became obvious to each of them.

Serpentine of body and red of scale, a beast straight from myth undulated along the dirt road, a man Ganondorf was intimately familiar with mounted behind its head. Both Enel and his creature looked at the plain wooden hovels of the Town with No Name and its people with disdain before settling their view on the two men in the middle of the street. Roaring a challenge in tandem, mount and rider sped towards their targets, Enel pulling up just short of running Ganondorf and Strazio down. The would-be God grinned egotistically down at them from his perch, or rather, his gleeful look was directed entirely towards his former ally.

“Well, look who’s back! Or maybe you never went anywhere at all… Of course not. You left with promises of power and artifacts, and here I find you screwing around in this craphole with nothing more than what you had when you left. What a loser.”

Enel guffawed upon the back of his red-scaled mount, and the beast mimicked its master in near perfect harmony. Ganondorf’s blood boiled at the man’s insults, a brief rise in his hackles quickly contained by the Gerudo’s will. And even as he was angered, so too was he amused that Enel was unaware of the power he had gained during his brief stay on Karl Jak’s island. The Demon King of Darkness glanced to his side and saw that Strazio looked similarly vexed. Still, it was doubtful Ganon could rely on Mr. Rockwell’s assistance were he to confront Enel, and doubtful that Roland would appreciate the damage to his town no matter the outcome. So, for the moment, Ganondorf held his temper in check and directed a friendly baring of his teeth towards the long-eared God.

“Nice to see you again too, Enel. I see you finally decided to leave my Keep. What? Did you not find it comfortable? Or perhaps you simply realized that you, quite simply, didn’t belong on my throne.”

The reaction elicited by Ganondorf’s goading was to be expected. Enel fairly leapt from his seat upon his dragon, his eyes shooting daggers at the tall Gerudo King. Then, just as suddenly, the man calmed and laughed with uncontained glee.

“Your Keep? Your throne? Looks like you forgot just who killed who in that courtyard, Ganny Boy.”

Enel’s drained from his face, his features hardening to a crystalline edge. “And you forgot that, as a God, everything belongs to me. Perhaps you need a gentle reminder.”

And with that, Enel sent his beast on the attack, his index finger merely pointing at Ganondorf and the dragon roaring in response as it charged him. It moved like a water flow, erratic and implacable, yet in Ganondorf’s heart he knew no fear. A grin twisted his lips as he reached into his pocket… and found nothing. He didn’t have time to wonder where his Egg had gotten to, or to curse himself for his over-confidence before the beast was upon him. All he had time to do was to react on instinct.

Dark flame engulfed Ganondorf’s fist as he swung blindly at the beast, and by some miracle his blow struck home. As massive as the red-scaled dragon was, it was no match for the Gerudo’s might, and the beast flopped and twisted amusingly as it hurtled away from him, before crashing onto the street behind Enel. The God once more leered at his foe and shouted, “Hey! What the hell, man? What kind of ass punches a man’s dragon?”

Ganondorf returned Enel’s angered look in kind and replied, “I wouldn’t have had to do so had you not made it attack me, Enel.”

And, as it was in that courtyard what seemed like an eternity ago, the air buzzed with the tension of their stand-off.

[Strazio Rockwell]

Strazio stood before the god with clenched fist and a quiet boiling anger. White-hot sparks of energy jumped across his flesh and singed small pock marks into his arms. Still he kept his temper under control, these two apparently knew each other and a brawl between all three would wipe the town from the map. Yes, this was the rare time where Strazio kept his anger in check. Still he had to act to try and control his impulse, he used his words and asked the Gerudo King “who’s this guy? You two know each other?”

Before Ganondorf could respond Enel answered Strazio’s question. The man that stood before the two was a tall and chiseled adonis. He had an arrogant grin that Strazio had seen upon the face of many kings and rulers before. However the strangest part of Enel’s outfit was the large metal ring that jutted from his back. Even with Strazio’s knowledge of magick and technology he was unsure of what purpose the ring served. Enel spoke boisterously “I am Enel, the one true God and you would do well to respect me mortal.”

Another megalomaniac ruling over sand and heat, these bastards are like cockroaches Strazio thought as a scowl crawled across his face. Slowly the Defender of Darkshire turned and faced Enel. He reached up to the cowl of his cloak and lowered it, revealing his pale hair and scarred hands. Strazio intended to set Enel straight and hoped that his fearsome glare would be enough to wither Enel’s pride. For a moment the two locked eyes, but Enel quickly dismissed Stazio’s glare.

“Ah yes, gaze upon my glory and weep. Know that I am a righteous God.”

At this Strazio could do little to hold his scathing rage and responded to Enel. His voice dripped with venom and sarcasm alike “another egotist out here in the desert? I’ll never understand why so many so-called gods and kings wish to rule over sand and dust rather than something of value... Perhaps its because you lack the power to rule over something of substance?” The Avatar of Rage spoke to hurt and spite Enel, but he was unaware of how truly deluded the man who stood before him was.

Without effort Enel dismissed Strazio’s taunt “how ignorant, although such stupidity is expected from a mortal. You see I already rule over everything in creation, even your very pathetic life.”

A large white arc of roiling lightning jumped from Strazio’s body and discharged into the ground. He growled and prepared himself to attack Enel “The name is Strazio Rock-”

Before Strazio could finish Enel had interrupted him with a dismissive hand wave “I care not for your name.” The God turned to face the Gerudo King “now you, how dare you attack my pet.”

This, understandably, pissed Strazio off. Large arcs of energy danced across his frame and his eyes sparked white. The oppressive desert heat mixed with Enel’s arrogance sparked a raging inferno of rage in Strazio’s chest. He wanted to pummel the so called God into the ground and rip his cocky tongue from his throat. Underneath Strazio’s cloak his chest began to crack and peel away, leaving only a white hot endoskeleton of energy. Before the Avatar of Rage could manifest he glanced at the nearby buildings. Civilian’s watched in awe and fear as the trio squared off, they knew that a confrontation was inevitable and they feared for their town and their lives.

“Fuck...” Strazio muttered under his breath.

Using all of his willpower he quieted his transformation and stood silent. As much as he wanted to rip Enel to shreds he couldn’t, in good conscious, put these innocent people in danger. No, he would have to wait and watch as Enel and Ganon became reacquainted.

[Thaal Sinestro]

“I know him,” Sinestro said as he leaned around the building and peered at the trio of primes. His hat was pushed all the way back on his head, the brim almost vertical in an attempt to reduce his silhouette. He clutched his rifle vertically against his chest, ready to reel around and fire at first opportunity. “His name is Ganondorf. The other two I don’t know.” The king’s features and clothing had changed, but not enough to be unrecognizable.

“I ken that one well,” Roland said, maintaining his native tongue while in the presence of the korugaran. “He made a town, not far away, and offered to supply the Town. Harriers lie in wait at all angles, but I can’t trust the man. He wears too many faces.”

A small smirk grew on Sinestro’s face, dark eyes twinkling. A moment of pride bubbled up from beneath the surface, a faint glimmer of warmth and excitement entering his chest for the first time in days. The great Ganondorf could not wrangle the sheriff’s affections and yet Sinestro stood beside him, deception fresh on his lips. “I might be able to talk this situation down,” he offered, looking back to the lawman.

Squinting, the sheriff thumbed the grip of his pistol as he considered the alien’s recommendation. After another moment of deliberation, he nodded. “Go sai, use your words. A bullet can wait to be fired, but never taken back.”

Glancing at his weapon, the red-skinned man flipped the rifle and handed it by the barrel to his overseer. With one final deep breath, Sinestro rounded the corner.

“Greetings,” he said in a firm but calm tone, a sharpness lying just below the surface, “My name is Sinestro.” He removed his hat and ran his other hand over his greasy black hair, “It’s good to see you again, Ganondorf.” He wiped his mustache, which had grown curled and wild over the weeks he had lived in the sand. “I see you’ve made some new friends.”

The gerudo blinked a few times, his muscled body tense. The long red hair that trailed behind him swayed as he turned to face the man, barely recognizing him. “Sinestro…?” he asked, confusion coloring his deep baritone. Bewilderment quickly gave way to his confidence, “I see you’ve chosen to crawl out of whatever hole you dug yourself into.”

“Heh,” Enel scoffed, “another worm come to wriggle at my feet?” Tilting his nose up, he grinned and condescended, “Go on, feel free to grovel to your God.” He lifted his hand high and pointed at his toes with astounding flourish.

Wrinkles formed on Sinestro’s forehead as Ganondorf’s attention turned back to the self-proclaimed deity. “Ah yes, allow me to introduce my, ah, friends.” The olive-skinned behemoth offered a tiny bow to the blonde-haired egoist, “This is Enel. We have ‘worked’ together in the past.”

“Hmm,” the electrokinetic huffed, looking over the alien man before him. His eyes were narrow enough that Sinestro had a difficult time identifying their color, and his naked chest was somehow a perfectly consistent pale shade, despite exposure to the blistering heat and sun. Golden cuffs around his ankles glimmered as he stepped forward with bare feet.

“I am Enel, God of lightning!” he proclaimed loudly, the patterned orange and blue fabric of his dramatically puffed trousers swayed in the wind. He sauntered towards the dirt-caked Sinestro, the korugaran’s flesh and clothing still black from the explosion he suffered not long ago, “And you would do well to remember you place when in my presence.”

The sun glinted off of the circular metal beam that was embedded in the man’s back, the four painted drums that hung upon it softly thumping with his every movement. Casually twirling his long golden staff, Enel finally came to a stop and grinned. His grossly elongated earlobes, each sporting a heavy golden earring, wobbled and shook as he nodded, “I’m glad you understand.”

Blinking slowly, Ganondorf exhaled and turned his hand to the bleach-white mage. “This is Strazio. He and I were introduced during Dante’s Abyss.”

The rage-fueled sorcerer clenched his fists and made eye-contact with Sinestro, “Rockwell. Strazio Rockwell.” He took a few steps back, his scorched clothing rustling in the wind. The singes in his clothing displayed the man’s open wounds, marred, black holes and burn-marks dug into his flesh. His entire body was a devastated landscape of deeply carved scars and pock-marks, a sleeveless shirt and shorts doing little to hide the man’s battered physique. As he turned, a large book could be seen hanging from his belt, a certain unease brought to anyone who might have glanced it. “And this party is starting to get a little crowded for me.”

Sinestro brought his hands up, one open and the other still holding the hat. “Ah, don’t worry,” he said smoothly, an angular grin flashing, “I only want to help diffuse any problems we’re having here.” He swept his hand openly to all the men and pointed to the tavern. “Let us all go sit, we can discuss whatever matters we must while there. I’ll even ensure you all have something good to eat.”

A rolling groan emanated from Enel’s belly, the confrontation slowly fading in the face of his physical needs. “Yes! That sounds like a good tribute. FEED ME!” he demanded.

Strazio’s eyes narrowed, though he offered no immediate response. Ganondorf smiled calmly and pat him on his back, “Come now, it cannot be too great a burden to receive a free meal.”

“Yes,” Sinestro slyly quipped, “you can inform me all about this… abyss you suffered though.”

Laughing, Ganondorf shook his head. “My, you have been gone for a while, haven’t you? How much have you missed while you were wandering the wasteland?” He removed his hand from the mage’s shoulder. “I think we may all have things to discuss, and the street is no place for our private matters.”

The gerudo and the ex-lantern had slipped back into their positions without a word, wearing faces over faces, playing roles within roles. This said nothing concrete of their alliance, only that their manipulations fell together neatly like cogs in a gear.

[Strazio Rockwell]

Another prime entered the fray and with each passing moment Strazio grew anxious. He didn’t trust a single one of his “companions” each of them looked shadier than the last. As much as he hate it, Ganondorf had quickly become his most likely ally. The smooth-talking Gerudo spoke well and managed to avoid sparking an outright brawl in the middle of town. Ganondorf patted Strazio on the back in an attempt to comfort him and it sent a shiver down the Defender’s spine. Strazio knew he was in a pack of silver-tongues and egotists and it rubbed him wrong.

The trio of primes followed Sinestro to their destination. Strazio kept his wits about him and pulled his cloak tight, hoping to hide the Necromonicon from prying eyes. Perhaps it was the mage’s paranoia getting the best of him, but he felt an almost imperceptible sense of danger in the air. A small spark danced through his fingers and he clenched his fist in an attempt to quiet his power. Everything about this meeting seemed fishy and the Defender of Darkshire found himself wishing he had never come to meet Ganondorf.

Still even if he was walking into a trap he felt strong enough to fight his way out. With the power of the Necromonicon and his newly found strength the Defender felt damn near invincible. Strazio took a deep breath and relaxed, he would play along with their game. His back straightened and he picked up the pace, walking stride-in-stride with the much larger Gerudo. Ganondorf glanced at Strazio from the corner of his eye and the Defender met his gaze.

“So Ganondorf, you never did tell me why you invited me out to the desert. Surely it wasn’t to meet your... Acquaintances” Strazio asked quietly, hoping to avoid interruptions from Enel or the newcomer.

“Simple. You impressed me with your performance in Dante’s Abyss, you were a finalist no?”

Strazio instinctively pulled his cloak over his prize and responded “yes I was.”

Ganondorf threw his hands up in deference, adding a casual atmosphere to their conversation “I could use someone powerful like yourself, and from what I’ve heard you’ve been looking for allies. Afterall you are hoping to free Darkshire are you not?”

Strazio’s eyes narrowed and he asked cautiously “who told you that?”

“No one had to, you said so upon your entry to the Abyss and again so during the prize ceremony.”

Strazio thought back to his little “display” for the Dante’s Abyss attendant. He hoped that more people than Ganondorf had heard his request for aid against Dracula. The metal crest of Darkshire still dangled from his neck. The dark metal glinted in the bright desert sun it was Strazio’s commitment to free the Pale Moors from the burden of Dracula. The Defender began to speak again, but was interrupted by Enel.

“How much longer must we walk?” the God was getting impatient.

“Not much further I assure you, I know a quaint little place nearby. It should give us a quiet place to catch up” Sinestro responded.

Despite having just met Strazio felt at ease with the red-skinned man. He seemed to be a peacekeeper of sorts and managed to diffuse their standoff with a few well-spoken words. This Sinestro must have the patience of a saint to ahve been able to put up with Enel’s braggadocio Strazio thought then again, maybe I just have low tolerance for stupid bullshit. Strazio broke away from Ganondorf and moved towards Sinestro, hoping to become better acquainted with the would-be deputy.

“So what’s your deal?” Strazio asked bluntly.

“Hmm? What do you mean?” Sinestro’s eyebrow raised and his itself in the shadow of his hat.

“Well, are you some kind of lawman and how do you know Ganondorf?”

Sinestro glanced over at Strazio and offered a short smile before responding “Ganon and I were summoned to the Omniverse around the same time and we decided to work together. As far as being a lawman, yes to some degree I suppose I am. For the past two weeks I’ve taking care of bandits in the area.” Strazio laughed and Sinestro raised his eyebrow “I seem to have missed the joke.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but you seem to have missed some. I was jumped by a pack of those thugs on the way into town, killed one of them and sent the others running.”

Sinestro’s voice soured “Yes, well as I’m sure you can tell this isn’t exactly and Empire settlement, crime has a funny way of congregating here. That’s why I’ve been helping out around here, someone needs to keep the peace.” He paused for a moment and continued a different line of conversation “Ganon said you two met in Dante’s Abyss, now where would that be exactly?”

Before Strazio could answer Ganondorf spoke “How have you not heard about Dante’s Abyss? Even those living under rocks have heard of it.”

“I’m not sure, but this is the first time I’ve heard of it, care to enlighten me?”

Strazio spoke for the Gerudo “Dante’s Abyss is blood sport pure and simple. Fourty or Fifty primes pitted against each other in a fight to the death on a deserted island, kill or be killed. All around a very unpleasant time, but the winners get an obscene amount of omnilium and a powerful artifact.” He absentmindedly rubbed the arm that Ganon had broke in their first encounter. All that was left was the sour memory of the three days he spent in agony from Ganondorf’s attack.

“I see, so you two competed?” Sinestro asked, looking over his shoulder at Ganondorf.

“Indeed, we even fought against each other on the first day. I managed to break Strazio’s arm, but he still managed to place in the top eight.”

At this Enel chuckled and Strazio turned to look back at the God of Lightening. Just glancing at the arrogant bastard made his blood boil, but he did his best to keep it under control. Strazio remembered another arrogant bastard who lived in the dunes, the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh. Perhaps it was his encounter with Gilgamesh that made him despise arrogance so greatly, or perhaps it was simply in his nature either way Strazio did not care for Enel.

“What’s so funny Enel?” Ganondorf asked.

“Oh, just thinking about you two fighting” Enel smirked “a battle of weaklings.”

This pissed Strazio off. To be called a weakling after having come so far and accomplished so much stoked a furious anger in his chest. A thick arc of energy crackled across his clenched fist. He went to rage against Enel, but Sinestro spoke before the insult could boil over into an all-out war.

“Now now, we can save that for later. We’re here, let us fill our bellies and worry about killing each other later.”

Once again the red-skinned peacekeepr kept the peace. Strazio clenched the crest of Darkshire in his palm, until the edges cut into his flesh. He had to stay calm and collected, if not for his sake then for the sake of the innocent who would no doubt be killed by a clash of primes. Strazio gritted his teeth and followed Sinestro into the establishment. He hoped that some food and drink would take his mind off Enel, but he had a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.

[Ganondorf]

Ganondorf found himself regretting allowing Sinestro to choose their meeting place as the group followed Thaal into the rustic establishment he’d led them to. And rustic was being generous. A fine layer of dust and grit coated every horizontal surface in sight, once the Gerudo’s eyes adjusted from the blazing sunlight outside to the dim light within. This in spite of obvious attempts by the homely serving girl making her rounds at cleaning. It was just one of those unfortunate consequences that came from living in a desert. Every table and chair in the place seemed to lean or wobble, the glasses that stood upside-down in a row behind the barkeep were grimy, and the even the air itself seemed to hold an unclean feel as it entered the Gerudo’s lungs at every breath. The few locals who were ‘enjoying’ the restaurant seemed just as squalid as the restaurant itself, and no more happy about it than he.


Despite all of this, the Demon King couldn’t really complain. That didn’t stop Enel from turning up his nose and muttering an unsavory comment about how such a place was beneath a God. In spite of his aversion, he continued with the group to a nearby table, where the odd foursome seated themselves. In short time, their orders were placed and Ganondorf set to enjoying the first meal he’d had since that awful trail ration he’d consumed during the Abyss. While the cuisine was certainly lackluster to that which he was used to, as a King, it was a far cry better than that swill, and considering the state of the Town, it seemed the best it had to offer. The egotistical God, however, took a single bite and pushed his plate away with a glower.

“Enel…” Ganondorf began, taking his under-lip between his teeth and breaking eye contact as he sought the words he needed to speak. “I know that this place isn’t exactly what either of us are accustomed to.”

“I know we’re not on the best of terms right now, either,” Ganondorf added as Enel afforded him a disdainful glare for both touching him and address him by name. “Neither of those things matter right now. As much as our egos would hate to admit it, we’re not the Gods we were back in our own worlds. Here, we’re little more than men. We still possess great power, but we’ve been diminished. As such, we can’t afford to give up a chance to make new allies.”

The giant Gerudo looked towards Sinestro and Strazio as they listened to the two men talking, illustrating his point. “Our goals, like our prides, are large. Nothing less than everything will suffice. Am I wrong?”

His long-eared companion scoffed at Ganon’s words, crossing his arms. But the subtle shifting of his shoulders and the almost imperceptible twitch of Enel’s eye let the Gerudo know that he was, at least, listening to his words.

“Enel. We can’t fulfill our dreams alone. Not in any time frame that would satisfy us. As much as I dislike you, and don’t be fooled by my gracious tone, I do, I recognize the strength you possess. I’ve gained a measure of respect for you in that fight. So, while what you did to Firani I will never forgive, I’m willing to set that aside, for now.”

The Demon King’s gaze swept to the other two as he spoke, and he began speaking to them as a group.

“I’ve seen the state of these lands, and of the Omniverse in general. It’s in chaos. Its citizens cry out in suffering, yet the powers that be do nothing. Omni does nothing. He brought us here with little more than a brief explanation and set us upon a path to ruin. And so, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is up to us to create a utopia of this world. To bring order and peace to not just the Dunes, but to the entire Omniverse.”

“Us?” Strazio asked, a raised eyebrow directed towards the Gerudo. Ganondorf nodded in reply and continued.

“Yes, us. As I said, I know such a task cannot be done by any one man. An undertaking of this magnitude will take a group of men, and women, willing to do what it necessary to ensure the prosperity of the world and its people. To give them life where there is death, happiness where there is despair, and peace where there is anarchy.”

Enel scoffed derisively, picking a booger from his nose with his pinky as he spoke, “What do I care for the people? They’re nothing more than maggots, fit only to serve me.”

Ganondorf chuckled softly, lending an amused tone to his words.

“Those fixated on their problems won’t be able to give you your due respect. A people ridden with grief cannot give adulation to their God. Dead men can no longer give worship”

Giving Thaal a meaningful glance, Ganondorf continued, “And dead men cannot fear. Most importantly, a population stricken with death, thievery, hate, war, and strife won’t be able to serve us. Make no mistake that I do this for altruistic reasons, friends. My plans are completely self-serving, and I expect your own to be. I desire Omnilium, for it is the path upon which I will regain my former glory and the means in which I will overthrow Omni. I seek to use the means of my enemy to my own advantage, and I will use the people he’s brought here to see that my goal is attained.”

The golden gaze of the Gerudo King once again swept over the others as he paused to give weight to his words.

“I don’t expect any of you to help me out of the goodness of your heart, and that’s not what I’m proposing. I seek to create a group of… well, not quite like-minded individuals, but perhaps people who share an interest in bringing order to the Omniverse. We’ll each pursue our own goals, as before, yet we’ll do so knowing we have allies at our back to assist us in attaining those goals.”

A meaty finger pointed to each of them in turn as he drove home the point. “Enel: You wish to attain your former glory, your status, and to destroy Omni. In your endeavor, I vow to lend assistance. Strazio: You seek to bring peace to Darkshire and to destroy the evil besieging it. In this I also vow to help. Thaal… Well, our goals are the most aligned of any at this table. We both seek order. You have my assistance in your endeavor. We Lord of the Arid Waste will bring the Omniverse to heel and in doing so create a utopia for all. We shall bring LAW and order to the people and they will thank us for it. We will be Gods amongst ants and they will worship us as our iron fist protects them from the horrors that would otherwise over run them.”

The three men sat in silence a moment after Ganondorf finished, a silence broken as Strazio spoke up.

“And how exactly are we going to do this?”

Ganon grinned malevolently, a deep chuckle issuing from within his throat. “Freedom, Mr. Rockwell. It’s the bane of the masses. The more free they are, the less secure they will be. I want nothing more than to create a world where any man can be happy, healthy, and safe. Our LAW will be harsh and absolute. At first, they will rail against our policies, but before long they will see the wisdom of our rule. They will settle into their roles and be the happier for it. They will fear nothing if they adhere to our rules. And those which break the LAW… they will be dealt with in a manner which will send a message to further transgressors.”

Thaal, who had been doing little more than listening until this point, spoke up, “And who would be in charge of this… Lords of the Arid Waste? This LAW of yours. You?”

Ganondorf shook his head and smiled warmly. “No. Any one in charge would need to be constantly looking over his or her shoulder, wary of betrayal and being usurped. Just as I want all our subjects to be equal under us, I wish that we also be as equals. As I said, we will all pursue our goals, and assist the others in doing so as well. No one person will stand above another in the LAW.”

The great Gerudo hulk leaned over the table and eyed each of them in turn before asking, “So, who will join me in this crusade to bring peace to the world? To join me in this alliance of mutual benefit as we work together to attain our dreams? Who is ready to become a Lord of the Arid Waste?”

[Thaal Sinestro]

A smile crept over the korugaran’s red lips, his fingers folding into a steeple as he slowly slinked backwards in his seat. His hat tipped down, the shadow concealing every part of his face but the glint of his hazel eyes. “Yes, I know that I still imagine a better for these people,” he said, his words slithering across the table.

“I can see these sands prosper once again,” he said with a cold assuredness, “In every person that suffers, there is a chance to help them rise up and create a new world. In every outlaw and criminal, there is the opportunity to make an example, to show these people what is acceptable and what is not.”

His fingers unfurled and waved in a grand gesture over the battered wooden table, “We don’t need to punish the good or the kind, only those that disturb the order, those who break the LAW we lay down.”

Leaning forward, the sun struck his eyes and for a moment they reflected the golden light. “Fear is the enemy of will, and the will of the criminal is his greatest weapon. If we will create a new salvation for these people, they must fear the consequences of their misdeeds. We must shatter their will.

“We will show them the light, and those who hide in the shadow will suffer. Is that really so selfish?” The ex-lantern lifted his hat from his head and placed it on the table, smoothing back his sweat-slicked hair. He glanced between every member of the table as he continued his lengthy address, “I know that Ganondorf speaks of selfishness, and for that I cannot blame him. However, I do not think of this in terms of my own gain. Certainly,” he glanced to the side with a shrug, “I must tend to my own needs, but after I have created my power ring and brought it to full strength, I will want for nothing.”

He felt the eyes of the table upon him, judging, prodding, asking what possible purpose he could serve. “I believe that once the Town With No Name is under our control, we will be in a much better position to strike out against other pockets of chaos.” He swept his hat from the table and waved his hand, indicating the surface as a place of demonstration.

“If we want to succeed, we must start with a base of power,” his dirty finger planted itself in the center of the display. “If we do not have a sure place of safety and support, then we are nothing but leaves in the wind. I hear that Ganondorf has a base nearby…“

“I have a base nearby,” Enel corrected, a twinge of condescension in his tone. The red-haired juggernaut and the broad-shouldered pirate shared a tense look, but the gerudo quickly took the high road and offered a smile and a nod.

Sinestro allowed their tiny conversation to play out, and continued without correcting himself, “… which would support our choice of the Town With No Name as our first choice. If we were to use his base on its own, it would give him more of the impression that the owner was more our ‘leader’ than a member of equal standing to the rest of us, wouldn’t it?”

Not waiting for anyone to interrupt, his finger drew a circle around the point he had motioned to before, “The surrounding areas will be ours to cleanse, control and conform to our standards. If we cannot control our borders, then we do not control the town.”

Strazio leaned in, “What about Nippur? Isn’t that what Gilgamesh calls his little city?”

Ganondorf shared a look with the other entrant into the Abyss, his bushy red eyebrow perked and he leaned back, crossing his arms. “That is an issue for another time. I don’t see why we can’t work with, or around, him for now.”

“I have some business with him that I have to take care of,” the white-haired mage said, struggling to keep his inner turmoil from bubbling to the surface. Still, the air around him wavered with anxious restraint.

“A perfect opportunity,” Sinestro purred, drawing a line with his finger to the imaginary outpost on his ‘map.’ “Perhaps you and Ganondorf could spearhead an attack on some of the bandit factions that exist on the outlying sectors while you make your way to Nippur.”

“A possible diplomatic opportunity,” Ganondorf purred, stroking his red beard, “Certainly something to consider.”

Strazio clenched his fist, arcane power surging over it, “And we can finally settle our score.”

“Psh, I won’t be told what to do!” Enel interjected, as if speaking the obvious.

Sinestro fell silent for a moment, carefully choosing every word he was about to speak. “Of course not,” his voice growled with as much sincerity as he could muster, “A God may do exactly as he chooses. Wherever your travels take you, know that we will be available and that your aid is invaluable.” When Enel seemed pleased enough to quiet himself, Thaal returned his attention to the table.

“As for me,” Sinestro continued, “I will remain in the city and work alongside Roland. The more I can convince him of our utility, the more easily he will be swayed to our way of thinking. Surely he sees that order is not being maintained, that more drastic measures must be taken. He is a good man, and one that wants the best for this town. I can show him that the best thing is our control.” As if admitting a great defeated, he sighed. “If I am unsuccessful in his conversion,” he tossed his hat onto the table with a small spin, “we will be forced to take him off of the board.”

[Strazio Rockwell]

Strazio sat in silence and listened to Ganondorf’s proposal. It was a noble idea, despite its less than noble implications. What he suggested was a certain lordship, a dominance over the population of the Omniverse. It would not be unlike the rule of a just but iron-handed king. In his own universe the Defender had no interest in lordship or control, but was rather interested in dogmatically hunting down Damien. But, this world was different; Damien was not here and as such he had no quarry to pursue. Perhaps joining this alliance would help him in his quest to save Darkshire.

The prime ate his food and listened to Sinestro and Ganon talk business. He didn’t have the same desire to plot and scheme as the other two, but they would prove to be useful allies. Enel seemed more or less content with the proposition. Strazio figured that the god would simply try to use them as pawns. The Defender wondered if Gilgamesh had similiar meetings with his subordinates. The damned golden king was probably too arrogant to allow anyone to be his equal. If these three wanted to become allies then Strazio would not object. He knew Ganondorf was powerful, and powerful men keep strong company.

The mage waited for his turn and finally spoke up “look, I don’t want to sound like an asshole. I’ve just got a policy of telling my allies my intentions.” He spoke with an even tone and looked each of them in the eye, making sure they were paying attention. “I’m not interested in domination of the Omniverse, hell I’m not even interested in domination of Darkshire.” He clutched the crest of Darkshire in his scarred hand and continued “here in the Omniverse my allegiance falls with Darkshire, if I must choose between any of you or saving the Moors... Well, the choice is obvious.”

“That’s perfectly acceptable Strazio, we each have our own agendas and we’ll see to it that yours is accomplished as well” Ganon spoke with the voice of a seasoned negotiator.

“Very well, I’ll join your little group” Strazio smirked slightly “just remember that I have a bit of a temper and I’m damn good at holding grudges, so don’t betray me.”

Enel groaned at Strazio’s braggadocios claim and rolled his eyes. Instead of speaking the Avatar of Anger glared at Enel, his pale eyes burning holes in Enel’s forehead. Silently he hoped that the god would make a move, but Enel returned the glare with a cocky smile. He was under Strazio’s skin and he knew it, he knew it all too well. To him Strazio was nothing more than a nuisance at worst and entertainment at best. After a moment of strained awkwardness Thaal put his hand on Strazio’s shoulder, snapping him back to reality.

“We’re all allies here, and we’ll take care of each other in due time” the red-skinned deputy crooned.

Similiar to a forlorn child Strazio huffed and crossed his arms, his apetite had left him. Ganondorf and Thaal continued their small talk and Strazio pushed his meal to the side. As much as he needed the alliance he had more pressing matters here in the Dunes. Gilgamesh was still waiting and their duel was still up in the air. Strazio hoped that fifth place in the Abyss was enough to impress the arrogant bastard, but deep down he knew that nothing short of grovelling at his feet would impress the king. Absentmindedly his hand moved to the Necronomicon; there was something alluring about the dark book. Maybe the power of the artifact was intoxicating, or maybe something more sinister at was at work. Whatever the case, Strazio felt emboldened by its presence.

He jumped slightly and moved his hand away from the book as the door to the tavern slammed open. In the doorway, back-lit by the scorching sun was a slender woman with fierce eyes and a damnable purpose. Those sharp eyes scanned the room and settled on the group of primes. With unholy purpose she stomped towards them and with one solid motion she swiped away their table. Strazio would have been upset if he wasn’t finished with his meal, hell he was still slightly miffed at her rudeness. But what followed paid for her hostility in spades. With an open palm she slapped Ganon, hard enough to silence the room and leave a mark across his proud face.

She slapped Ganon.

She slapped the Gerudo King.

And Strazio could barely keep his sides from exploding.

The angry mage burst into a laughing fit as Ganon sat there speechless from her assault. She jumped backwards and entered a fighting stance, ready for retaliation. Behind her stood a tall shady-looking man, but he seemed none too interested in her shenanigans.

Strazio continued to chuckle as he asked Thaal “who is she?”

“That’s Eighteen, her and Ganon... Well they’ve got some issues” he spoke coyly, trying to avoid getting dragged into the brawl.

As Strazio’s laughing fit subsided he watched the events unfold. Ganon stood to speak with Eighteen, but froze when the two met eyes. It was inevitable, a conflict between the two, Strazio could feel it. He knew that it was a matter of time before the two began to scrap. Around them the tavern patrons watched with bated breath, frightened at the prospect of an all out battle royale between the six primes. With a sigh Strazio stood as well he didn’t want to get involved, but he felt the need to at least speak.

“Now now you lovebirds” he began, but was quickly met with a withering glare from the both of them.

Eighteen spoke sharply “and who the hell are you?”

He faltered in his words and glanced away “right sorry, I’m Strazio Rockwell. Listen, as much as I want to see this red-headed bastard get pummeled into the ground I don’t think this is exactly the best venue for it. Whatever animosity you two hold for each other, no matter how justified, shouldn’t pull these poor innocent people in harm’s way. All I’m asking is that you two settle your dispute away from where anyone could get hurt.”

[Ganondorf]

It had been going perfectly. The men gathered at the table, despite their disparate backgrounds and personalities, had agreed, in one way or another, to his proposal. Even Enel, the one man Ganondorf had thought would refuse, had offered him a slight smile and nod at the end of his speech. It seemed that in spite of his ego and god-complex, the man was capable of seeing the gain to be had in having allies in his struggles. Though only the future would tell if their great faction would be able to last until their goals were achieved, the groundwork laid down at this table felt a victory to the Gerudo and he basked in his moment of glory.

It was not to last, however. The door of the tavern was nearly splintered into fragments as it burst open. Icy blue eyes regarded the occupants, settling upon Ganondorf with a fierce intensity that sent a shiver down the conqueror’s spine. Eighteen… it had been some time since he’d seen her last, during that long walk to the island of death. There she had seemed detached, emotionless. But it now seemed as though her pent of rage had been let loose. Her cold voice spoke his name, and her lithe form moved with purpose through the establishment, scattering patrons in every direction as they instinctively moved to avoid her. The table at which he and the others sat was flung away with ridiculous ease as she placed herself before him, their eyes on a level due to his seated position. And before Ganon could rise, or even speak, her palm came across his face, striking a blow that felt like getting kicked by a horse. The Gerudo’s jaw nearly dislodged itself at the force and only a supreme force of will kept him from falling out of his chair.

All around, eyes widened at the sudden display of violence, shocked murmurs emanating from the Secondaries in the building. Even the Primes with him seemed surprised by what had happened, though when Eighteen retreated into a defensive position, a stranger standing in the doorway spoke a curse. Thaal had some exasperated quip to say as well, while Strazio and Enel both fought to contain their amusement at his humiliation. The Gerudo Lord felt a dark rage build within him and his wolf-like eyes locked onto Eighteen. Once again she had humiliated him in a moment of triumph. His heart and mind boiled with an indescribable fury as Enel and Mr. Rockwell’s laughter drove daggers into his pride.

Spitting a glob of blood onto the floor and shaking his head to drive away the spots before his eyes, Ganondorf rose to his feet, his face as dark as a thunderhead and his motions as deliberate and threatening as an earthquake. He took a step towards Eighteen and she instinctively took a step away, a glimmer of apprehension in her eyes as she did so. The boy, Strazio, jumped up, trying to defuse the inevitable conflict before his efforts were shut down by a malice-filled glare from both Ganondorf and Eighteen. The woman asked who he was, to which the boy replied, and asked that they not engage in combat within the town. Sinestro spoke up in agreement to that, but it seemed as though their words were falling on deaf ears. The red-haired behemoth and the blonde fighter were once again staring daggers at each other.

Slowly, Ganondorf’s hand rose from his side, reaching towards Eighteen. The other Primes with them felt an air of imminent hostility descend upon the tavern, and the android’s stance tightened in preparation for his attack. What happened next was a shock to everyone in the room.

“Well, I suppose I might have deserved that,” Ganondorf said with a calm tone, his outstretched hand held towards her. “I might yet deserve more. I doubt any apology will suffice for that I put you through. My anger can get out of hand at times, and the punishment I placed onto you was too harsh by far. Especially for one who saved my life. And though you may not accept my apology, I whole-heartedly offer it anyway. Eighteen. You have done more for me than any I have ever known. You stood by my side when you could have watched me die. Because of you, I am now able to see what must be done for this world, and I would hope that you could forgive me for the manner in which I treated you. And I hope that you will accept my offer to stay with me… with us. To build this world into a utopia. To join our LAW and help us as we help you. I can understand if you refuse, of course. But know that I wish no harm upon you and can only hope that you are able to live a life of happiness and peace.”

The Dark Lord’s words were met with silence, not just from Eighteen, but from everyone in the room. They knew him to be a negotiator extraordinaire, with a way with words that only matched his volcanic temperament; as likely to coerce as to destroy. Yet, after the blow dealt to both his body and his pride, this sudden diplomatic… and even friendly speech was as surprise. Even to the Gerudo himself. It wasn’t as though his rage had subsided, rather it was the memory of Firani and her death at his hands that had stilled his violence and tempered his words. And, Ganon had to admit, a fair part of it had to do solely with Eighteen herself.

Their time together had left the Ganondorf marked, and it was with a strange sense of awe that he came to realize that the words he had spoken were true. He wanted her to have happiness. And he wanted her by his side as he made this world into what it could be. Yet, long seconds passed in silence in the tavern and the Demon King felt an anxiousness rise within him that he fought to keep from showing on his face. All eyes were on himself and Eighteen, yet she had yet to answer him; yet to take his hand in acceptance. Her glacial orbs were locked onto him and divulged no secrets as to what thoughts lay behind them. What was she thinking, in this moment, and just how would she respond to him?

[Enel]

As God, I’m pretty accustomed to being underwhelmed by my surroundings when I venture out into the peasant world. On a whim — honestly, out of boredom – I’d followed the red-skinned alien to a place he thought was appropriate for an audience.

It was not.

It was a pub. A fucking pub. He’d brought the God of Lightning, a demonic lord, and … and some mage, I don’t know, but he’d brought them here and it was here amidst the drunkards, whores and smell of stale piss that he’d pitch his sale. Is he fucking with us?

I sniff the cheese they’d offered up before pushing it away. I look at Ganondorf to see if he’s, at least, equally disgusted by the alien’s staggeringly poor judgement. He’s practically wringing his hands and I know he wants to apologise but there’s no way he’s going to lose face in front of the other two.

“Enel … I know that this place isn’t exactly what either of us are accustomed to,” he acknowledges. “I know we’re not on the best of terms right now, either. Neither of those things matter right now. As much as our egos would hate to admit it, we’re not the Gods we were back in our own worlds. Here, we’re little more than men. We still possess great power, but we’ve been diminished. As such, we can’t afford to give up a chance to make new allies.”

He’s got a point. Lackeys are needed. Dumb ones, and these two seem like just the ticket. They’re staring at Ganondorf like dogs, eating up his words like they’re scraps of meat. I’m trying not to stare at the alien’s little moustache but it’s hard. His fingers are steepled and he’s smirking like he’s a warlord or some shit. The more I look at him, the more he reminds me of a play villain. I cover my mouth; this is too hilarious.

The talking goes on for a while. Honestly I’m only half paying attention. Just as my eyes move to the door, ready to get out of this place I spy a pair of tits I know look familiar. I squint harder, but it’s only when she slaps Ganondorf across the face that it finally clicks. The beer I’ve summoned spews out of my nose and I almost drown in my own laughter. Oh myself! What a pantomime! If nothing else, there’s one great reason to stay near to Ganondorf, and that’s to watch the ongoing train wreck that is his life. I mean, really! Here he is, literally trying to pitch his plan to take over the entire verse in a pub, and in walks his ex-girlfriend and slaps him across the face. If he didn’t deserve it, I’d almost feel bad. But that’s karma, Ganny-baby.

I’m fucking enthralled to see what happens next.

-9 OM for Ganny’s speech, because not-quoting it flowed better and I CAN

[Enel]

I pick my nose. There’s a particularly troublesome booger; I can feel it get pushed up every time I put my finger further in. But there’s a trick people like me know for this. I cover my other nostril with my finger and blow. It pushes the booger out just far enough. I’m able to get a grip on it with my fingernail — which is difficult, because I had my girls give me a manicure just this morning — and wrench it to freedom. It feels liberating. There’s still more detritus so I scoop it up with my pinky. I breathe deep and immediately regret it. The booger had been blocking the smell of pissed pants and stale ale. It’s time to get out of here.

I slap my hand on Old Ganny’s back and bring the table’s attention to myself. “As enthralled as we all are with this drama, I was under the impression that we came here to discuss business.” I eyed the red skinned devil. “This place is not fit for such discussion. While I’m all for discussion, you make a mockery of my ambitions by bringing me here.

“So here’s what I’m gonna do. Oi, barmaid.” I collar the nearest wench. “Would you be a dear and bring me some paper?” I let her go. “I assume all you people know how to operate a Den Den Mushi?” I ask rhetorically, though the blank look on their faces is worrisome. Maybe they’re dumber than they look? The barmaid reappears and I snatch the sheet of paper from her. “Thank you, dear!” I say, dismissing her, before continuing. “I’m going to write down my number …” I enunciate clearly. “So you can call me-ee …” To demonstrate, I hold the black Den Den Mushi strapped to my wrist up to my mouth as I speak. “Okay?” I look around the table and sigh. “While you guys subdue the locals, I’m going to go have a word with the pretender God who runs this illusion. With any luck, we’ll all be back in our beds within a few days. A few weeks, tops. If you wanna come with, you're welcome to.

“Anyway,” I finish, “Ciao.”

Outside smells somewhat less like piss and shit, but my Dragon still looks understandably peeved. “Aww, I’m sorry,” I croon. He turns his head away. “Let’s get away from this horrible place.”

Yes. Let’s.

[Thaal Sinestro]

The drama of Eighteen’s return had cinched a tight knot in Sinestro’s gut, frustration and anger surging through him. Every part of the impromptu meeting had gone so well and yet, in the fledgling moments of the organization he so desperately needed to bring peace and order, the cracks had already formed.

It was in that moment that he was vividly reminded that he was without his ring, powerless to bring the clarity that the situation deserved. Eighteen’s display was a snag, a burr that protruded into the fabric of society and tore loose its threads. Her every action was an attempted rebellion against authority, against him. She rebelled against his strength, his power that he held over her. She reacted against it in the only way she knew how: violence.

With a deep breath, he let his fingers unfurl. The cracks would be smoothed, the disinters would be quieted, the chaos would be quelled. Authority would be established over those who would not cooperate, as it had before, as it would be again.

Ganondorf bowed at the waist to the other members of the newly formed group, his hand at his waist and a faint smile on his lips. “It would seem that I have a discussion to attend,” he said, his deep voice thick with gentle sarcasm.

Now only Sinestro and Strazio remained in the dingy diner, the overturned table sitting on the other side of the room, every slack-jawed patron staring at them with worried and emotive expressions. The white mage rolled his eyes and crossed his arms; the heavy mental chains with which he contained his fury were obviously becoming strained.

“Strazio,” the korugaran planted a hand on the man’s shoulder, “I hope you aren’t too worried by that interruption.”

The gruff arcanist shook his head, “I must say that it wasn’t a very good place to start.”

Sinestro rose to his feet and grabbed the lip of the heavy wooden table with both hands. He placed his boot on the protruding legs, and with a grunt he righted it. “Chaos will always be the enemy of order, my friend. There will always be those that seek to destroy what we create, those who attack what we defend.” He offered a smile to his new compatriot, “That we already have people attempting to undermine us is a good sign.”

Strazio rose to his feet and adjusted his clothing, adjusting for some unseen object. “I don’t know why she thought she could just come in here and slap him though, in front of his allies. She couldn’t possibly think she could win. Why do it?”

“In their relationship, she must.” The man lifted his hat from the table and pushed it firmly onto his mussed, dirty hair. “In many ways, it is the same reason that we fight. We show force because force, violence, is the ultimate authority. The ability to control, physically,” he tightened his fist in front of himself, his worn skin creaking against itself under his grip, “that is what it all boils down to. What can you make another person do. The ability to physically control the reality we live in is the authority from which all other authorities are derived.”

Tugging at his cloak, the mage ruffled his snow-white hair and began making his way towards the door. “And she’s trying to assert her authority over him and, in a way, gain her own freedom,” the man deducted.

Sinestro nodded and allowed the man to exit the building first. “Their relationship is a distillation of that truth: they fought the first time they met, and they fight again now. Eighteen’s understanding of that truth is… an interesting one, certainly, but it is not inaccurate. Her ritual of combat and subservience tells us much about the world she used to live in, and how she thinks.” He stepped out into the sweltering heat of the sun, sweat already forming on his brow. “She acts as though the authority that can be derived from violence is inevitable. By bowing her head to those who have proven themselves stronger, she avoids the possibility of struggle, and the despair that those conflicts can bring.”

Strazio scoffed as he began to walk after Ganondorf, who purposefully strode about a block ahead of them. “If she isn’t willing to struggle, to fight, she misses out on the opportunity to win. Fighting you opponent at their best, on their terms, isn’t a good way to ‘control their physical reality.’ There are a million better ways to win a conflict other than a duel.”

Grinning in earnest, the deputy was genuinely happy with the sentiment, “I would tend to agree, but at times even I see the allure of a one-on-one duel. To try proving that you are, unquestionably, their better, is tempting.” Flashes of green and yellow danced in his memories and a sour expression washed over his face, “I don’t suggest it.”

“Is that what this promises to be? Violence, asserting authority over each other? I don’t know if I really want to be a part of that,” Strazio said, his tone calm but firm.

“I understand that concern, my friend,” the alien said as they followed after the red-haired goliath, “but no. For those that do not wish to lock themselves into the eternal struggle of force, authority and violence, there is another option: cooperation. We do not need to show each other force, because there is no cause to do so. I do not wish to hold authority over you, because I do not need to control you. You are intelligent, reasonable, and we share the same goals, trying to force you to do anything would create an antagonistic relationship between us. Struggle, in this case, would only be to both of our downfalls. Instead, cooperation and alliance serves both of us better.”

The man furrowed his brows, apprehensively nodding, “I suppose so, yeah.”

The two men stood at the edge of town, the red mesas towering above the lazy curvature of the dunes. The woman stood, arms crossed over each other, her body huddled inward as she condemned herself to the suffering that she had created. He stood behind her, legs in a wide stance, his hands at his sides. The wild wind cut across them, carrying the sand and detritus of the desert, blowing their hair along with it.

Sinestro’s hazel eyes narrowed, and he quietly stared at the spectacle. “So let them have their squabble. Let Enel go and fight his gods. When you need us, we will be there.”

[Ganondorf]

For a while, neither Ganondorf nor Eighteen spoke. Then, the great Gerudo King opened his mouth, his voice low and only for her ear. As his words came forth, he dropped his usual grandiose manner. Ganon would not address her as he would the others, or someone he sought to control. For once, he would speak to her as a man to a woman. He didn’t know if she was listening, or if she was still caught up in her thoughts. He didn’t even know why he was speaking to her at all, considering how she had assaulted him and insulted him. If she were anyone else, he might have been content to let her go and to move on with those more loyal to him and his cause. Yet, somewhere deep inside of his dark heart, he couldn’t see a future where she wasn’t by his side.

“I don’t blame you for hating me, Eighteen. I’ve been a monster in every meaning of the word.”

Ganondorf sighed softly, his gaze moving past her and out to the desert beyond. Many people considered this to be a wasteland, a place of death where nothing good or beautiful could grow. Yet, for those who lived or spent a lot of time here… they knew the true majesty of the dunes. How the shifting sands could create works of art that no man could emulate, how the sun could reflect and create images beyond the ken of a mortal mind, how the stars shone so fiercely during the night, and how the beasts and flora worked together to create the most intricate dance in any reality. For those who knew how to look, there was no greater wonder than the living desert.

“I…” Ganondorf continued, faltering as he fought to find the words to describe how he was feeling. “I don’t want to do this without you. Yes, I haven’t done anything since I’ve been here. All my schemes and plans haven’t amounted to more than a castle of sand. And I don’t think they ever will, without you. I can’t say why, but I need you with me. Not just need, though. I want you by my side; more than any other. I don’t deserve it, no. But I hope you will be there anyway.”

As the Gerudo spoke, his blonde companion turned to him. Her face was blank, emotionless, and her eyes fierce and weighing. As always, Eighteen was an enigma. In a flash she could be filled with a rage even Ganondorf could not emulate, or she could be as cold as winter’s heart. There was no knowing what was going on in her mind, and so an anxiousness arose within the Demon King. What exactly was she thinking?

“Do you want to kill me? I doubt it will help, but if you do, I won’t try to stop you.” he asked, his golden eyes meeting her icy gaze in calm measure. For a moment, she didn’t respond, and then she broke his gaze and looked away.

“No,” she replied with a sad sigh, her eyes mirroring a pain that the Gerudo would never understand. He nodded sagely in agreement, and reached to place a hand upon her shoulder; a hand casually slapped away before it could make contact. For the second time that day, Eighteen had refused his hand and this time as the last, it hurt more than the Gerudo was willing to acknowledge even to himself.

“Listen, Eighteen. I don’t expect you to take me at my word. You were right to call me a liar. It’s in my nature to twist the truth and make others believe what I want them to. So, I ask only that you come with me to Nippur. Watch me. Let my actions speak for me and then make your decision. If, at any point, you feel like you’ve seen enough, you’ll be free to leave and I won’t try to convince you anymore.”

There was a brief silence before her answer came.

“I'll go with you, although we both know you're stronger than I am,” she said and turned to face the man. The android took a few casual steps, the sand shifting under her feet, and she cut the distance between them by many inches. Soon there was nought but a hair between them, and her iron grip took hold of the metal of his collar. Despite the difference in their height, her strong hold pulled that armor down a good inch. “In the end, there is only one resolution, and you know as well as I that it will be what it will be.” Her steel gaze bore into his, and in that moment there was only wind to fill the silence. Something in her eyes spoke volumes more than words ever could.

As if the world exhaled, Eighteen let go of him, stepped to the left, and she began to walk. “Now, where was it we were headed? I was barely paying attention. You tend to ramble.” She flipped hair over her shoulder, and glanced back. If only pressing matters weren't so urgent. She wondered if he even knew the storm brewing inside of her. It was more than a feeling, she was angry, lonely, and she just...needed something to anchor her down.

[Strazio Rockwell]

Strazio watched the two lovebirds from a safe distance. It was a morbid curiosity that drove him to observe the two. He wanted to watch the inevitable fallout and Ganon’s subsequent asskicking. The two seemed so very much intertwined, but yet the presence of one seemed to poison the other. He was reminded of his relationship with Mara, and the memory cut deep. Mara and Strazio were brought together by twin threads of fate. They both had lost everything at the hands of Damien Alabaster. Bound by this common conviction the two felt destined for each other. But now, now the weave was broken and the two couldn’t be more distant from each other, both physically and emotionally. Strazio betrayed her, left her to die all in a vain pursuit for revenge.

The desert sun was high in the sky and baked the nameless town. Dry dusty wind kicked small twisters of sand up into the air. Strazio found a stack of sand-marred crates to sit on. With a bit of annoyance he sighed, he hated waiting on others, but if he wanted to be a part of LAW he had to play nice with the other kids. His body ached and creaked against its own weight. He had sacrificed much in the name of revenge and his own body was no exception. Strazio unclasped the journal strapped to his belt and began to write to pass the time.

Journal Entry #3

I seem to keep moving farther and farther away from my goal. First I was sidetracked with that damn Gilgamesh and then that bloodsport Dante’s Abyss. And now. Now I’m joined with these “Lawmen” as they call themselves. I can’t overlook their sinister nature, but I need influence and I need power and they are all too willing to provide it to me. So for now I’ll play their little game of lords and kings, I’ll keep playing their game until it no longer benefits me. After all I’m now here to make friends, I’m here to find a way back home.

As a side note I must be wary of Ganondorf. His tongue is silver and his mind is sharp, I’m not sure if I could even beat him in a fight. If we ever come to blows I must remember to not hold back. As much as he wouldn’t want to admit it I think Eighteen is a blind spot of his, perhaps I could exploit such a weakness?

But for now I have a fight to look forward to. I’ve waited for too long to return to Gilgamesh. Hopefully the arrogant bastard keeps his word and he’ll grant me a fight. Hell, I won’t give him the choice. I had to put up with that bastard Enel, I’m not going to put up with another arrogant “god”. The next egotistical bastard I find I’m going to obliterate, and that I promise. But I digress, I can’t underestimate the Golden King. He must certainly be powerful to hold such an influence. Perhaps I can find some information on his through this Dataverse Device?

Time had been lost to the Defender of Darkshire. It had only been minutes, but it felt like ages sweating underneath the unforgiving sun. He glanced over at his two companions. Ganon and Eighteen seemed to be back on speaking terms, but he could tell an unspoken tension was still held between the two. In Strazio’s impatient mind the two had wasted enough time and he was more than ready to move on. He shut his journal and bound it to his belt, and with a short hop he leaped from the stack of crates.

“Time to go” he muttered to himself and he walked towards the two.

With a fake smile he inserted himself into the conversation “you guys cool? Ready to go?” He was met with a withering glare from the duo, which he laughed off. After a moment of silence Ganondorf nodded to him and looked out across the desert “I suppose it is time to leave.” Strazio patted the large man on the back and flashed a smile at Eighteen.

“We’re just like one big happy family huh?” Strazio asked with a thin layer of snark.