Sunrise to a Sunset

[Harlan Higgs]

"The kindred known as Victor Hendy, aka Harlan Higgs, has been tried and found guilty of making pacts with demons and consorting with the Baali. Such a blatant betrayal of everything the Camarilla and this city stands for can only have one penalty." The Prince bowed his head, mugging for the entire court. Fucking foppish cunt. His throat whispered, sounding every one of his three hundred years as he pronounced the sentence. ".....death by sunrise."

Harlan rolled his eyes. "Roight, then. Can we get on with it? Don't want to be late, you're going to give me the Rotschreck with your fucking speeches. Hell, that'd be a worse punishment than the dawn, just chain me to a wall and practice your public spea- ungh!" The Sheriff's fist crashed into his jaw and he felt several teeth shatter. "Silence, autarkis filth. Your death is just another step closer to eliminating your bloodline for good. Thieves and tricksters. Good for nothing but chaos." 

Harlan opened his mouth again to quip, but the big Gangrel was faster and socked him again, sending blood and shattered dentin onto the con man's gray pinstripe suit. The Prince watched with a steely gaze as the Ravnos was hauled to his feet and dragged into the back room of the Court, which was a powder room. Harlan rolled his eyes internally. Fucking Toreador and their predilection for "high society". He was going to die on the roof of an art gallery.

His wrists ached, the big steel spikes going into them and holding him to the stout wooden cross firmly affixed. He felt weak, tired, sluggish. They'd drained him of blood, of life, of Vitae. He had nothing to fuel even the most insignificant apparition, an illusory knife to cut his bonds, a lighter to burn the rope. His goose was cooked. It all came down to this. He should have blown town months ago, but no; he had to get soft, get comfortable. He'd had to play his little games and spin the wheel like the raggedy man he was. Ah, well. You could only ride a hot streak for so long, and a hundred years was a pretty good life.

They wouldn't get their show. No begging or pleading for the fucking Elders to use as propaganda, no "lesson in humility". He'd face their judgement with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. "Oh Danny Boy, The pipes, the pipes are callin'..." He could see the red sun breaking through the ashen clouds, the first glint of daylight on the horizon. "From glen to glen, and down the mountain side....the summer's gone....and all the roses fallin' " He could hear Jimmy's voice in the back of his mind. "Taint so bad, kid. Least you didn't have your own childe suck your soul out through yer neck." Harlan cleared his throat and finished the verse as the first rays of sunlight started to sear his scalp, smoke rising from his head. "It's you, it's you...must go....and I must biiiii-"

Downstairs, The Prince watched the monitor with satisfaction as Harlan Higgs burst into flames and started burning.

Upstairs, Harlan felt the heat disappear from his scalp, and the sudden lack of metal spikes in his wrists. He still couldn't move, spread eagled like christ on the cross himself. But then, something white and indistinct slowly appeared in front of him. 

He swore. "Jaysus fookin' Chroist."

The being took definition, and opened an invisible mouth, gently shaking it's head.

"My name is Omni."

[Harlan Higgs]

Harlan had to shut his eyes as soon as his sight returned to him. All he could see was nothing but white, blinding white. No horizon, no structures, nothing except the sound of flowing liquid. Raising a hand, he tried to reach out to the Dreaming and form something from it to shield his eyes with. But there was nothing. That familiar, almost pinkish purple feeling of Maya was entirely missing, and the realization made the blinded Harlan bare his fangs. But there was something else, he could feel it. It felt like reaching for the Vitae to fuel his creations almost, but there was a massive amount of it. Far more than what he needed to create this illusion. He felt around for it, and took a tiiiiny pinch into his ministrations. Rapidly, a pair of sunglasses coalesced from nothing, and he slid them on over his face. Only then did he finally open his eyes.

He could feel the illusion of the sunglasses drawing their substance from something. From him. Maybe it was that Omnilium stuff Omni had talked about? In any case, he felt mighty powerful full of the stuff. This was much easier to maintain than illusions of Maya. If heblieved they were real, then the glasses would do their job. And man, did they have their work cut out for them. There was nothing around in sight, except a large, black, intricately carved fountain. Filled with red liquid that flowed and bubbled...and smelled....oh dear lord. He was feeling a tad peckish. But he wasn't an animal. He reached out again for the power source and creating a golden cup, wispy, insubstantial for a second, then sharply defined and hefty. The Ravnos grinned, showing fang as he dipped the goblet into the blood fountain and drank deep. 

"Eurgh. Tastes a bit empty....but it'll do for now." 

He drank his fill and dissembled the illusion, the cup fading into wispy smoke before he stood there for a moment and took in the entire plane. Still nothing but blank whiteness. Well, nowhere to go but anywhere...

He started walking.

[Malon]

Malon wept as she concealed the backpack underneath the pile of hay that was laid out to feed the horses tomorrow and double-checked that Ingo was nowhere around. At this time of the day he was probably enjoying some Hylian vintage in the living room, feeling good about himself for what he had accomplished - nothing besides having kissed the right man's boots at the right time. Now Lon Lon Ranch was deteriorating, its fences rotting and its cucco population diminishing every time that the newly appointed farm owner's appetite had him slaughter another of them. She was doing her best to cope with the situation but no amount of chicks could replenish the stock. The same went for the cows which were miserable in their small coops, unable to move and bred as often as possible to produce as much milk as possible and to be fattened up nicely for when they were ripe for killing. He would not last a week without her doing the work.

But today was where this ended... a swift death was a better fate for the cows, cuccos and horses than a miserable life under Ingo's reign, a life that they had now led for six years. Everything she wanted to take along was there, it was ready. She withdrew to her room and locked the door behind herself with a loaf of bread and a pair of carrots, to pretend that she was going to sleep early. She had feigned tiredness as of lately and Ingo had not gotten any suspicions - though he had threatened her a few times should she not meet the work quota for the day. Which is to say all the work on the farm, as Talon was gone and Ingo would have laughed at the idea of lifting as much as a finger anymore. She laid down on the bed while eating the bread, enjoying every mouthful as much as she could. Tonight when the moon was at its highest she would release the Lon Lon ranch animals into the Hyrule Fields, grab those hidden supplies and ride Epona away, far away from the ranch, from Ingo, from Hyrule Castle city. She doubted not that most of them would not survive for very long. They were farm animals not cut out for life in the wilds. Some of them might even return to Lon Lon ranch once they got hungry. The others would get torn apart by the predators of the night, the skeletons and zombies, the Poes and wolves, the Octoroks and Skulltulas and other beings that she dared not even imagine in her wildest dreams. And Ingo? She could only hope that those six years of being lazy, eating meat and drinking wine had left him too slow to accomplish anything on the ranch.

Perhaps she would die out there, before she even got to the Lost Woods. Perhaps she would make it and get lost in the forest, then become a Skull Kid - she had no idea if 20 years of age was too old for that. Maybe the Kokiris would believe her to be a spy of Ganondorf and chase her away. Or maybe, on a small chance, she would muster the courage that the fairy boy, that Kokiri-like kid from six years ago, had displayed, and she could help. There was a Sage in the forest, in the Lost Woods, she knew that. If she could make it to the temple hidden deep within and retrieve them, perhaps they could tell her where to find the others. Perhaps she could become the savior that Hyrule needed.

She wiped a final tear from her eyes knowing that tomorrow at this time most of the dear animal friends that she had made would live no longer. Before she fled she needed just a pair of hours of sleep though... the mechanical clock on her nightstand would wake her up in time...

...

Slowly her consciousness drifted through a black void. A figure approached her... no, it couldn't be. Fairy boy? she wanted to ask, to scream into the distance, but her mouth would not open. She wanted to reach out but her body refused to move. The figure came closer and she saw that it was not the fairy boy after all. A being of dreams, white as freshly fallen snow and with a grin wider than those on the masks that the weird traveling salesman had to offer. Its grin opened wider as it began to speak.

"My name is Omni. This is not the world you know."

When she came to, a fine trickle of blood ran down her forehead and over her right eye. She groaned. Her body hurt everywhere... and what was with that... had it been a dream? The memories were fuzzy... she reached up and touched the spot where her head throbbed, only to wince and jerk her hand back at the jolt of pain that traveled through her. It seemed like the bleeding had stopped, but it hurt still. She sat up and looked around herself. What she saw struck her as even more odd.

Now Malon was not a sleepwalker, at least she had no memories of such, but this was not her room. The ground beneath her was completely white and featureless, like the clouds in the sky. Like someone she had seen, recently... she tried to remember but trying to focus on the fleeting, blurry images sent more pain through her head. Then she noticed that there was something nearby... something not white. A massive pile of dried hay, smelling like home. The memory made her sigh happily, before it came to her. The backpack! Her items! She rushed forward, ignoring the pain in her knees, and dug her hands into the pile until her hands grasped something leathery. Yes... it was still there. With some tugging and some moving the hay around she freed the pack from its hiding place, until it suddenly popped free and the forceful pull had her stumble back several steps then land on her butt.

That was when she noticed that the hay pile and a stoney structure almost behind her were the only items in a very wide area. Spanning miles in every direction she could see nothing but... emptiness. White blankness that was, in a way, scarier than the monster-infested Hyrule fields. Involuntarily she clutched the backpack closer to her chest. Was this another of the dark ruler's, Ganondorf's, sick jokes? Had it not been enough to plunge Hyrule into death and misery, did he have to... to wipe everything out that the three Godesses had created? Something inside her told her that this wasn't the case, but she could not tell why.

As she got to her feet she noticed that the structure behind her was the fountain that stood in Hyrule Castle Town's town center. And it was not the dried-out and deteriorated one that she had seen two days ago when she had delivered goods to the city - it was the one from over six years ago, splashing with crystal-clear fresh water and with the symbols of Hyrule - the Triforce held by an eagle - intact and for the world to see. The memories made her cry tears of joy as she bent over the edge and washed her face and the injury on her head with the cloth of her skirt, by dipping it into the cool water and gingerly swabbing over the spot where it hurt the most. Then she cleaned the cloth and the water turned red briefly before being drained. She repeated the process a few times and examined her reflection though with the water rippling constantly it was hard to make out anything. This should be good enough... she opened her backpack and pulled out a bandage next. She had hoped to save it for later but with that mentality she would not use it until it was too late. With any luck she could resupply herself with the Kokiris. She wrapped the bandage around her head a few times and cut the rest with the kitchen knife that she had stolen days back. Now to hope that it didn't get infected or anything.

Oh right. The sickles. She pulled both out of the backpack, still in their sheaths, and sat on the fountainside as she pulled the belt off her dress, slid it through the sheaths' holding parts and put it back on. The leather wasn't an ideal way to hold them as they could not just be drawn like a straightsword due to being curved, but they would do the job. Hopefully.

The next order of business was to find out where she was, and making her way... where? To Lon Lon ranch to go through with her plan and retrieve Epona? The Lost Woods, to pursue her quest? No, she needed a mount first... but if she did not find out where she was how could she make her way anywhere?

Her journey was off to a good start.

[Harlan Higgs]

Harlan had been wandering around the blank white landscape for nearly an hour. Every direction there was nothing but blank whiteness. Even conjuring an illusory spyglass had proved futile, just showing him the same bleak absence of any color. And the brightness! The sunglasses on his face cut the worst of it, but it was starting to wear his eyes out. Was this hell? Just a vast, featureless plain, complete anathema to one of the Dreamer clan? Was he supposed to sit here for all eternity and amuse himself with whispers of what was?

"Sod that right to Gehenna." He announced to himself. This was absurd. He was already thirsty again, the blood he'd taken from the fountain the equivalent of Chinese food. This wouldn't do. He was far from the hunger frenzy, but the gnawing paranoia of the Beast was already worrying his psyche. Bah. He'd take rations this time, maybe conjure up a compass or something. DDirection was not his strong suit, Jimmy had always taken care of travel arrangements. Harlan was at home in civilization.

Finally, he saw something in ths distance once more, the black curled metal of the fountain making a stark contrast against the whiteness of the Nexus. As empty as it was, he needed Vitae, needed the red. But to his great consternation, reality rippled as he drew closer. The fountain changed from black to stone, and began spewing clear water. Water! Useless! A haybale coalesced into being next to it, and the limp form of some being appeared on the ground. Well now. Ask and ye shall recieve.

He watched with fascination for a few minutes. The being stood up, and wiped her forehead. Even at this distance, Harlan could smell the iron tang of fresh blood. She was pretty, young looking, and had pointed ears. Hmm. Cute almost. Like the most untouched Nosferatu he'd ever encountered. 

Well now. He may have been a Kindred, but he still thoughy of himself as a generally respectable man, with protocol and politeness and all that. Besides, he doubted she had anything worth swindling. Best to present a good front. He closed his eyes and drew upon his dwindling blood supply, forcing the Blush of Life back into his body. Ancient organs and dried veins swelled in protest as the blood began pumping, the hundred year old Ravnos forcing his heart to beat once more, giving his usually sallow and sunken flesh a healthier shine.

As he drew closer, he waved to the woman, who was standing around curiously with a pack and traveling supplies on her shoulders. "Even-....morn-..afterno-...damn it all. 'Allo, dear. Just arrived to see the sights? Cuz there really ain't any worth seein' in the immediate vicinity. Trust me, I've been wanderin' out on that bloody tundra for near an hour."

[Malon]

As Malon was just finishing to adjust the sickles onto her waist in such a manner that they would be comfortable she noticed a figure approaching her. In the white nothingness spanning this place he was pretty easy to make out... yes, she was pretty certain it was a man. As he came close enough to speak and adressed her she noticed his strange clothing. Was he a visitor from the lands beyond Hyrule, maybe? Yet she could understand him perfectly. But his clothes were unlike anything she'd ever seen both in fashion and in the materials used. For an instant she thought that he might be some sort of eccentric individual from the castle - he certainly looked like someone rich - but his manner of speaking made her cast that thought aside. No nobleman would speak to a commoner in such a friendly manner.

"I, uh... I'm sorry Sir, but I don't think that I came here on purpose", she sputtered out the first thing that came to her head. The man seemed a little amused by this but didn't reply, instead giving her time to collect her thoughts and formulate a proper reply. "I... I was at home - on the ranch, I mean - and laying in bed. Then I..." She felt like there was a gap in her memory at this point. Just thinking about it made the throbbing on her head come back. "... I woke up here", she concluded. Could it have been all that important if she didn't remember it? Then again for all she knew it could be the reason for which she was here now, in this white land.

"I've no idea where I'm at. I've never seen anything like this before, this... white expanse. Do you know anything, Sir?"

"Nope. Guess we're in the same boat, dear - freshly brought here by that Omni guy. Didn' think he'd dump us in the middle of nowhere though."

The mention of that name stirred something in Malon's memory. She had heard that name before, she was certain. But she could not relate it to any face that she'd seen in Hyrule, so... "We were brought here?"

"Didn't he give you a greetin'?"

"I don't know. My head's fuzzy if I try to think back."

Harlan pointed at the bandage on her forehead. "You must've smacked your head against that fountain when you got here, dear... I'd say it's amnesia." When Malon frowned, he added: "Memory loss."

"Ehm, my name's Malon actually. I... I guess it could be, I don't know when that injury is from. But you say there's nothing out here? Maybe if we keep going there'll be something eventually then?" She tugged on the leather loop of her backpack that hung it onto her back. "I got some food to keep us going a few days, if... if you wouldn't mind traveling together for a while. If we find our way back to Hyrule I'm sure that I can orient myself and point us to the city." The last words she spoke with only a faint glimmer of hope. Talon had never spoken of any white expanse like this in his life, and he had been to many more places than her, beyond Hyrule even. That meant that this place had to be elsewhere, or further away. In other words, the likelihood of finding her way back was very little.

[Harlan Higgs]

Harlan listened to the girl's explanation. Malon, huh? From the ranch? Definitely not from anywhere he was familiar with, unless there was some tiny town in Kentucky called Hyrule. He might have laid low there, or run a short term con involving a fiddle and a lawyer.

"So, Miss Malon, was it? Sounds like yer far from 'ome, is that roight?" Harlan gave her a disarming grin taking care to hide his fangs. He was burning that horrible fountain blood on the blush of life for a reason. Naive young farmgirl like this might spook and run, that'd happened before to his detriment.

"Travel together? Well, Oi gotta say oi make a roight entertaining companion, under the circumstances but there ain't nothing out there for at least twenny minutes. Oi checked." Was the accent a bit much? He long since lost his natural one, came from being a con man, but "rowdy irish street tough" had a very disarming quality to it. It had felt like the right persona for this shy young girl, someone accustomed to taking charge and strong enough to rely on, but not off putting in a pompous way. "If you say so, though."

Then all of a sudden, there were horses. Two of them, in fact. Two men wearing gleaming plate armor were astride the beasts, and Harlan noticed Malon looked relieved at seeing a familiar site such as medieval soldiers. One of them spoke up in a strong, commanding tone, and Harlan immediately rolled his eyes.

"New primes! Your new future awaits you in the waondrous land of Camelot! The Minas Tirith City Guard is always in need of new allies, and many opportunities will be available for advancement and adventure."

Dear lord. Malon seemed shy, and some small part of Harlan didn't want to ruin the image he'd crafted so far in front of her....but he hadn't gotten where he had been for so long by letting an opportunity slip through his fingers. Reaching a hand behind his back, he felt for the comforting weight of his hand cannon, stuffed into the hidey holster under his suit coat. Sidling over towards the two men and adopting an expression of geniality, he affected the peasant accent even more heavily.

"Well, a roight fine day for you gents to be saving us from dis pure whoite hell. Me and the lass are right appreciative ye came along when ye did." The vampire walked up to the guard on the left's horse and patted it's nose, giving it an unforseen intense look. Horses were easy. He'd lost count how many times he'd used Animalism to fix a race. Docile beasts, more than willing to accept a forceful mental suggestion.

The two soldiers seemed a bit taken aback by the rakish gentleman's response, lowering their guard just enough. Which is what Harlan was waiting for. "Well....if you will follow us we will escort you both back to- AAGGH!" Harlan had snapped his fingers, causing his horse to rear up and throw its rider, crashing into the second guard and denting his breastplate as he was thrown off his own mount.

TThe Ravnos shot Malon an apologetic look as she stared at him with utter shock and walked over to the first of the downed guards, the man struggling to get to his feet in the heavy armor. Harlan gave the man a cheeky grin as he leveled the shiny black magnum at his face, tilting his face plate up. "Sorry, boyo. You'll get me mercy for today."

BLAM

"Now for your friend..."

The Ravnos made a complex gesture, and smoky black chains sprung from the ground, attaching themselves to the second guard's limbs, pulling him up roughly to a standing position. The Kingdom soldier struggled in futility as Harlan removed the man's helmet, and as a final gesture, bared his fangs. The blush of life drained from the Kindred's face, his skin turning sallow and greyish. "Finally, some living fucking Vitae. Cheers, friend."

The soldier screamed one word before his throat was pierced, and words were drowned out by gurgling and thrashing as Harlan drained his blood. "Vampire!"

Harlan looked around after he finished, and beckoned towards the horse that he'd whispered to. If Malon was still around, she had more nerve than he'd thought. Mounting the equine and sitting comfortably in the saddle, he kicked the beast's sides and took off at a gallop. Now he could get much farther than before, and hopefully find a way out of this blasted nothing.

[Malon]

There was no two ways to say it: Malon was terrified out of her skin. The stranger had initially come over as someone odd, but friendly - if a little eccentric, but nothing TOO bad. And now he had killed an innocent man without as much as a moment of hesitation, with some strange weapon that had blown a hole in the man's chest as if his armor was made of paper. The shock, the rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins and her unpreparedness for such a situation led to her being frozen on the spot as Harlan went on. But when he averted his eyes from her, she came to. Or rather, her body began acting on its own as her mind's eye replayed the explosion of bits of clothing, armor, meat and blood from the soldier's chest, over and over like a broken record.

Her body however acted as it should: she slid back a few feet before finding the strength to scamper to her feet, then turned around and hastily ran away, until she was behind the fountain. She considered running more, but really - what could she do? This white area was open in every direction, there was not a hint of cover, of anything she could use to hide from him. Ironically the fountain that she had woken up at was the only thing here, and to think that it would stop the stranger was ludicrous. If he wanted to catch her he would be able to get around or climb over it in an instant.

But, if he was going to attack her why had he not done so when they were alone? He'd seemed to try and make friends with her until then, why had he turned around like that? Now that the imminent danger had passed and her adrenaline levels weren't sky-high any longer, she shakily unhooked her sickles from her backpack and grasped them tightly, with her back pressed against the cold rock of the fountain. Did the two soldiers have something that she didn't, something that had made him attack them?

"Vampire!" one of the men's voice screamed, but his words were drowned by a sickening gurgle that made Malon's stomach revolt. How she kept herself from throwing up she did not know. Then she held the thud of a body hitting the ground, silence for a few seconds, then the sound of horse hooves clopping against the ground. Having grown up around horses, the sound was unmistakable, she could easily make out that the horse was accelerating to a quick gallop and heading away from her. Even so, she dared not poke her face over the edge of the fountain until the sound was far away, and even then she did so only with great care.

The stranger whose name Malon realized she had never learned was gone, and with him one of the two horses. The other one wasn't far away, but the explosion that had killed the first man had startled it, and it was around a hundred meters away, in the direction that the men had come from. The man laid there, motionlessly, in a pool of his own blood. Malon did not need to confirm that he was dead, she had seen corpses before. Bodies of dead Hylians, of people who had walked the plains of Hyrule and had had unfortunate run-ins with the wildlife that had come to populate the plains after Ganondorf's takeover. The other one was in a much scarier state: at first sight there were no injuries on his body, but he was pale as a cucco's feathers, and no doubt dead as well - not the slightest motion of his chest indicating that he breathed. What had he said before his death... "Vampire"? Malon had thought that those were beasts of myth, manlike monsters with fangs that seduced young women and drunk their blood. But she had never seen or heard of one in all of Hyrule! Could it be that the stranger was... no, better not finish this thought.

In either case, these soldiers were dressed like Hyrule Soldiers. Their armor design wasn't the same but she could see a lot of similitude. It was no doubt iron or steel, they had helmets and chainmail, swords and a crossbow... yes, these had to be from a country of similar origin, if not from Hyrule itself. What had they said... Camelot? Minas Tirith? And she saw no eagle and triforce on their tabbards, but instead an emblem that she did not recognize. Well, maybe they would recognize hers.

What was she to do now? She had to get out of here... the stranger? She could see him way off in the distance, riding in a direction other than where the soldiers had come from. She should head in that one for further guidance. But if she came with just a horse they would believe that she stole it. She couldn't tell them that the two men were dead, they would arrest her, or worse. Finally she decided to take one of the two: the one carrying the better evidence that it hadn't been her, the one that the stranger had drained the blood of. It was much less of a mess and smelled less bad than the poor devil that had had their chest blasted to bits, which would not startle the horse as much. She could show them the one drained of blood and that she was not a vampire... yes, this had to be the best course of action.

The only problem that remained was the horse. It did not know her, of course, and thus was skeptic when she came closer, but didn't back away as she kept a good distance. Then she brought her fingers to her lips and whistled a short tune that made the horse's ears perk up and listen curiously. She repeated it, and the horse faced her. Again, and it began to come closer, carefully and slowly, but with its ears perked towards her. Again, and it came within arm's reach. She continued to whistle while reaching out, slow and careful so as not to startle it, and touched its muzzle.

"Oh, hold on... I have a few carrots in my pack. Stay put." She slowly backed away and walked to her backpack to take out her provisions. A horse out here would be much more helpful than a day's worth of food, and she knew that she'd won it over when she stood up and noticed how it stood right in front of her and nudged her with its nose, having smelled the treat. She broke the carrot in the middle and held it out on her open palm, to which the horse approached and carefully scooped up the carrot piece with its lips, then began to chew. Malon ate the other piece. The satisfying crunching and the monotonous chewing helped to get her mind off of things, and the horse was much friendlier when she took its reins. It flinched a bit when Malon took up the dead rider but did not run away again when she heaved the grown man up and loaded him over its back. Heavy... but she was stronger than she looked, the physical exercise at the farm had conditioned her. With the straps used to attach provisions to the saddle she fixated the body in place, leaving enough space for herself. Then she mounted up.

The horse turned out to be well-trained. The blast had frightened it, yes, but it was still a trained combat horse used to transport various individuals on its back. Malon had skipped the initial training to get to know the animal, but the little gift in the shape of a carrot had worked wonders. Once she was on its back it obediantly followed her lead and accelerated on its own as she guided it back home, to the place that the soldiers had come from. Camelot, was it? It was probably the best place to head to right now, to get more information. Soon the horse reached full gallop, faster than any horse Malon had ever rode in the past, and without a sign of tiring. Woah... Camelot sure raised a strong breed!

[Roger Smith]

Amen.

His final word, before his awareness fled completely and the last dregs of his body crumbled away. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

His world was darkness. But he was content. He had lived a good life; died a good death. He was not headed to heaven — his life was far too soaked in sin for that; far too covered and stained by wrath and death, even in God's name — but he had blessed by the signs of the children under his care living peacefully. They were happy. Even Maxwell had been forgiven, and was in a better place. But there was only one place in the afterlife for an assassin, whether of the Lord or merely for the want of money.

An eternity bathed in boiling blood was all that awaited him.

...but all that met him was darkness. A pitch-black void, stretching as far as his eyes could see — and further still, he imagined. He could not move, to look about in other directions. Could not even twitch in the slightest. Could not speak. Could not draw breath. He hung there, in solitude and silence. Waiting for he knew not what. Eternity, perhaps? Was this his true punishment? Not suffering forevermore in the fiery lifeblood of sins he had committed, but this...this omnipresent solitude and isolation? Not even worthy of eternal suffering and pain, but only of isolation.

It was...fitting enough.

But such was not to be the way of things. For moments, or for millennia, he waited there. He could not tell. But slowly, awareness filtered into his mind of a strange, white figure. Floating there. No eyes on its face. Nothing save a mouth, spread wide in a grin of almost childish mischievous and malevolence. Saint Guillotine wished he had the capacity and authority over his body to speak, to even ask a simple question. Who was this...creature before him? What did it want? Where was he? Many questions flashed through his mind, each of them unspoken and unanswered yet brushed aside immediately to make way for the next. He could just stare, his eyes stinging from the near-luminescent sheen of the figure, stark and alarmingly bright white against the blackness of its surroundings.

And then it spoke to him.

"My name is Omni. This is not the world you know."

Just like that, without his questions even being asked, they were answered — after a fashion. Who this creature was. Where he was. Why he had been brought here. But so many more questions left unanswered, and so many more raised. Was he not dead, after all? Was this some bizarre delusion, a hallucination of a dying, broken mind before passing into the eternal hereafter? Or was this the other side of life? Could it be a test, some unforeseen suffering and test to give the Judas Priest one last chance at redemption, and earn his way into Heaven?

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

Before he could ponder over his dilemma any more, the entity calling itself Omni vanished with a final, cryptic message. And then Anderson felt himself falling. Confusion registered in his mind first. Falling. He could move again! He could draw breath; he was free!

...but he was falling. Falling toward a bright light. Piercingly bright, and stark white against the blackness he had hung suspended in. He hurtled down into the fullness of that harsh, blinding embrace and lost his senses as quickly as they had been restored to him.


......


...?

A low hissing noise grated against his ears, even as a heavy weight settled on his chest. It slowly, ever so slowly, grew in pressure, and a similar feeling slid across his arms, and down his body. Wearily, and with great effort, the bayonet priest slowly pried his eyes open. Glaring sharply off his glasses, a light with no clear source shone down through...a shell of glass? He craned his neck upward, peering at where he had found himself. His dull, clouded mind took far too long to come to the realization: an hourglass. An hourglass, inside a fountain of sand.

....no. Not sand. A wheezing breath brought the unmistakable smell to his nostrils: Ash.

A fountain of ash, slowly covering and burying him in a dusty, snow-white tomb. Had he remained unaware for much longer, it would have no doubt covered him entirely.

With a supreme exertion, he rose up to a sitting posture, displacing inordinate amounts of the fine powder, struggling to find room to stand and rise. He needed to escape, before there was so much of this blasted ash he wouldn't have the room to even move at all. His hands curled into fists. His eyes scanned the glass enclosure with a searching gaze. He struck, producing a resounding note as his knuckles clashed against the glass, ringing it like a bell. Searing pain jolted up his arm, the glass far sturdier than it appeared. He ground his teeth against each other, striking with his opposite hand. The result was the same.

Ssssssssst......

More ash slowly, steadily fell down. Blasted up from jets outside the hourglass to land in the upper chamber, to filter down through the narrow aperture linking them. Time was not on his side.

A reflexive flick of his wrist produced a bayonet in his left hand. A growl of frustration left his mouth as he lunged forward, striking with it. It hit the glass wall with a harsh, grating screech. The blow glanced off, scratching a deep scar into the transparent crystal. A second flourish had another blade in his right hand. It struck the glass, producing a faint crack, spidering out from where the point of the blade impacted.

Throwing both of the blades aside, freeing his hands in the increasingly cramped space, the Paladin smashed one punch after the other into the cracked section of glass. It slowly spread, cracking wider and further, a spidery network of minuscule fissures marring the side of the half-dome.

And then it broke, a cascade of dust and ash spilling out, carrying the coughing, sputtering priest with it.

He crawled out of the wash of ash on hands and knees, extricating himself from it and coughing out what felt like a lungful of the stuff. His glasses slipped from his face with the choking cough, clattering against the ground. His watery gaze fell on the message inscribed on his left glove. Speak with Dead. How appropriate.

[Malon]

Malon had thought that she would be leaving the fountain behind and never return. Though she did not realize the magnitude of her mistake that day, when the fountain behind her began to shift that thought was rapidly swept aside. With rumbling not unlike an earthquake the fountain turned into a blob of some substance between solid and liquid form, then shot high into the sky and turned transparent as it took on a familiar shape. An hourglass... although, an hourglass larger than a house, and filled not with sand but with gray and black flakes of some sort. "Hoooh... easy there, boy", she said when the horse beneath her stomped the ground with its hooves, voicing its discomfort. It did not throw her off its back though, which she was grateful for.

As she turned around to approach the center of the Nexus once again she saw movement inside the bottom half. Not the gray flakes, but something black, a figure that was difficult to make out from this distance, but... was it alive? A little panic spreaded around her stomach and she urged the horse to accelerate. Yes, that was someone alive in there! They were being buried alive by the gray sand as they tried to break out! What Malon could do about it she did not know, but there had to be something! Like knocking the hourglass over or having the horse break the glass with a good kick. But her worries and thrown-together plans turned out to be unnecessary as the individual inside smashed the glass with some sort of blade and broke through in a cloud of what Malon now realized was ash. The hourglass's contents poured out the hole along with him and made him stumble forward several steps before he fell down. The gleaming blades that he had wielded fell out of his hands, as did the glasses he had been wearing. But even if he had been holding those weapons still, Malon would not have been dissuaded. This was different from Harlan - this was someone needing aid. She could not keep her heart from pounding regardless as she dismounted when the horse was still decelerating and ran the last few steps towards him to provide whatever aid she could.

The first order of business was to drag him out of the ashes that were still floating around; with every breath he drew he was sucking it into his lungs, and that just COULD not be healthy. Easier said than done: even among humans Anderson was considered a giant, being much taller than most, and way bulkier. Hylians were slightly smaller than regular humans, and Malon was short for a girl her age. She heaved the man several times and nearly dropped him twice until she had carried him a good five or six meters from where he had landed and there was little ash in the air, thanks to the lack of wind in the Nexus.

After that was taken care of Malon turned the man over to lay on his back, and remembered the old techniques that Talon had taught her in the event that she traveled to Lake Hylia for her deliveries and encountered some poor sap that was drowning. She put her hands on top of one another, placed them over the man's lungs and rhythmically pressed down to force the contents out, as strong as she could. "If you're breaking their ribs, you're doing it right", dad had always said. When that had no result, Malon let herself drop onto his chest, with her weight focused onto her hands to add her body's weight to her muscle force. This got her better results, as it made the man exhale air violently from his nose and mouth and got little clouds of ash flakes spewed out several times. His breathing stabilized and the coughing, while not completely gone, stopped for the most part, and she realized that he was looking at her. It was not a hostile gaze but nontheless sent a shiver down her spine.

Wait, had he not lost a pair of glasses when stumbling out of the hourglass? Maybe he wanted those back! Better get them soon! Malon hastily got up with that excuse to escape the man's eyes for a little while and ran over to the hourglass while shielding her nose and mouth with her sleeve. The glasses were quickly found as their surface reflected the light, and in the process she found the man's strange weapons as well. What were these things? Knives? What a weird handle though. Imagining that he would want those back as well she picked both out of the ash pile and returned, but put them down at a distance where he could not reach them at a moment's notice. In spite of it all the encounter with Harlan and the memory of his sudden turnaround was still fresh on her mind. She did not want to risk being the next victim. With that done though she cleaned the glasses on her shirt and put them on the man's face. "You'll be fine, okay? Try to, uh... just focus on catching your breath for now. I don't want to hurt you", she said the first thing that came to her mind. What did one do after rescuing a drowning man? Talon had not taught her that part. But he seemed to be doing better already. Surely he would recover by himself now.

The only thing that she really hoped would not be misunderstood was the bodies of the soldiers that still laid nearby - the one laying on the ground with a hole in his chest and the one still on the back of her horse, which was now standing a slight distance away, observing them both.

[Crocodile]

A warm ocean breeze blew over Usopp's body as he looked out upon it. Two years had passed since he'd last seen his friends.. Two years of near-isolation, his only companion the strange man named Hercule. During those years, Usopp had grown stronger, more manly. A true brave warrior of the sea. Those years had changed him into someone who could stand alongside his friends as they braved the seas ahead.


The sniper knew the challenges of the New World would be beyond anything he had encountered before, but he was ready for them. He was ready to see his friends again. But it seemed someone out there had other plans, for in that moment Usopp's view of the ocean snapped to black and the strange feeling of tumbling into a grand abyss washed over him. The sudden shift in reality slammed against Usopp's consciousness and it fled, the young man falling into unconsciousness.


Time passed... how much time, Usopp didn't know, but his mind eventually came to grips with what had happened. Consciousness returned, and he opened his eyes. A darkness deeper than any he'd ever known greeted the King of Snipers, so dark he was unsure if he'd even opened his eyes at all. He tried to wave a hand in front of his face, to no avail. It was just too dark to see anything.


Cupping his chin in one hand, Usopp sat crossed-legged in the void and tried to work things out rationally. Where exactly WAS he, and how could he get back to his friends? Those two questions dominated his thoughts. He tried to call out, to see if anyone was around, only to find he could not speak. His mouth moved and air expelled from his lungs, but the words just wouldn't form.


Panic set in, the young sniper being gripped by the sudden fear that he was deep underwater and drowning. He breast-stroked towards what he thought might be the surface, but it was impossible to tell if we was even going anywhere. Besides... nothing about this felt like water at all. Sure, there wasn't any ground underneath him and he couldn't speak. But he didn't feel any pressure on his body, nor resistance to his movements. It seemed like he was breathing alright as well. Just where was he?


Usopp's previous panic and curiosity had dominated his mind to the point where he was startled to see a white silhouette outlined by the darkness in front of him. In the darkness of that void, it was impossible to tell whether it was close to him or kilometers away, the thought giving life to a new fear in Usopp. Where it had come from, he didn't know; whether it had been there all along, had gradually emerged from the darkness, or had suddenly popped into existence was a mystery. Still, the boy couldn't help but to blush thinking it had been watching him make a fool of himself. And, in the midst of his shame, it began to speak.

“My name is Omni. This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse. You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.”

There were so many questions Usopp wanted to ask, but the words just wouldn't come, no matter how hard her tried to speak. In the end, he decided to simply listen to what it had to say. Not that he had much choice in the matter. An orb, glimmering with all the colors of the rainbow, appeared in its hand; a small, almost insignificant point of light at first which grew into a something large and splendid. Omni, as it had named itself, stretched its arm forward towards Usopp and the boy, without thinking, did the same, accepting the orb of light from the being.

“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most. “

Usopp stared at the orb as Omni spoke, his eyes wide in amazement at what he had been given. He watched as it slowly shrank and disappeared, feeling a strange warmth and strength fill his body. And what Omni said... anything he desired? Did that mean he could use this to find his friends again? Could Omnilium help him to achieve his dream of being a brave warrior of the sea?

“You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they, too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn.”

And at those words, suddenly all of Usopp's wonder came to a screeching halt. Fear filled him again. The thought of death, of losing everything he cared for sent a chill through his body. Yet this Omni had said that he would be reborn after he died. W-what did that even mean? Usopp struggled to grasp what had been told to him as the silhouette spoke for the last time.

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

A sudden white light blinded Usopp for a moment, his eyes closing involuntarily. When they opened, all he saw around him was white. The sound of wind filled his ears and he cried out to Omni.


“Wait! Is Luffy here? Where are my friends? Don't go yet!”


His words were drowned out by the rushing wind, going unanswered. He was alone again, with nothing but his thoughts, the white expanse around him, and the torrential wind to keep him company.


What was up with that wind anyway? Seemed kind of strange, didn't it? Crossing his legs and cupping his chin, Usopp pondered the situation. It seemed kinda familiar... like he'd experienced something similar bef-... wait a second. The sniper looked down and his heart stopped. Below him he saw a strange looking object, small to his perspective, but growing larger quickly. Yup. He was falling out of the sky.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” he screamed out, his arms and legs clawing at the air in an attempt to slow his fall by swimming upwards. It didn't help; all the while the ground beneath him continued to grow in size, a sure sign that he would soon impact it. The object he had seen as small had grown to be distinguishable as a strange hourglass-type sculpture. With a sigh, Usopp resigned himself to his fate. The Great Captain Usopp was about to meet his end before his adventure even began.


“WAIT!” He suddenly remembered something! He'd invented something for JUST this kind of situation! He laughed to the air around him, victory and satisfaction welling up within his heart. He would NOT die this day! No! The Great Captain Usopp, Brave Warrior of the Sea, could not be beaten with such paltry tricks!


“Usopp Skyrid-” he said, as the ground suddenly interrupted him. Buried face-first and to his wait in the white ground, his legs twitched in an insect-like fashion in the air above. And as his parachute finally deployed from his satchel, Usopp uttered a final word.

“Ow...”

[Serraph Quarrere]

It was a beautiful night here in Hueco Mundo. The sounds of howling screams could be heard in the distance and the sound of the wind carrying such beautiful cries made its way through the various catacombs of Serraph's library. Granted, it was indeed a nuisance to have to deal with such a draft. There were many loose documents and works of art the Espada had still yet to catagorize and place in their proper place. Such things would be carried by the wind, strewing them about the labrynth that was Serraph's domain. 

 The younger Espada would trace his pale finger over the cluttered desk of ivory, following along the massive stacks of books that had just been delivered. The smell of old textures made him feel at home here. There was so much to read and so much to discover. It simply made his mouth water at the prospect. The sounds of footsteps interrupted his thoughts of book-cest and tome-grahy. Two taller Arrancar would find their place before him, both carrying a small stack of records for him. Quarrere's eyes would lighten. Even more to add to his never ending toil. The two... weren't that important. Serraph saw them nearly every moment of his work. They were boring to say the least.

 "Lord Serraph. A raid on Shinigami patrols yielded us these records.", One of them would say, holding out the small stack of papers for Serraph to look over.

 A quick stroll from his desk to these underlings showed how excited he was. Lately these two had yielded unsatisfactory results as of late, barely meeting their qoutas that Serraph had imposed upon them. Still though, they did better than most. Many couldn't handle the large quantity that he... required of his underlings. The Espada was nearly laughing with glee as he reached up for the papers, but as soon as he touched them, something felt off.

 "Wait...", he'd say, his smile ebbing away. He'd snatch the papers away, adjusting his glasses as he skimmed over the records. These fools had no idea who they were dealing with. His chest swelled as his temper rose. His grey eyes narrowing as they glanced ever so slowly up at the weaker Arrancar. "These records are about Shinigami deployments from five years ago. RECORDS. I already have. RECORDS   that you fools have copied.", he'd say turning around to hide his disgust from them, but then an idea struck the shorter one's mind. "You two have struck a curiosity in me. I haven't used a cero in over fifty years. Back then, they were quite weak, harmless even. I wonder if I... tried it out again.", he'd say, slowly turning his palm outstretched toward the one who had refused to talk throughout the whole ordeal. A light blue light would grow in his palm, illuminating the dim room.

 "Lord Serraph, I-I d-didn't do it! This bastard did what are y-"

 "Cero", Muttered Serraph, the ball shrinking into nothing before expanding outward in a torrent of blue light that expelled outward, encapsulating the poor soul before him and expanding outward against the stone wall of his library. The building shook as if grasped by an earthquake, knocking over shelves and ancient tomes from their resting places. The light died down and the tremors stopped. From where this poor soul once stood was merely a scorch mark and a pile of ash. This blast had nearly wrecked his place of work and living, but Serraph had a solution. He'd turn to the other who merely stood there quivering in fear that the same would happen to him.  A Lucky day for this guy, it would seem to be.  

"Reorganize every record in this building, fix that wall, and clean up this  GODDAMN mess. I dont care what has to be done... just get it DONE!", he'd cry out before moving to return to his rest area, away from all this chaos. Unlike the place he kept his livelihood, his bedroom was just that: A room with a bed. It was essentially a small white cube with enough space to fit a bed in. It was quiet there and held no distractions to keep him from forcing himself to rest.

 He'd lay down against the hard stone of his "Bed" and let his eyes droop when he heard it, the voice that seemed to purge every bit of knowledge from his mind. This Omni, had given Serraph another chance to find what he was looking for all this time, even if Serraph would never know at first. One by one the chains were broken as Omni explained himself, his world, and Serraphs involvement. It was a world of infinite possibilities, a world with infinite knowledge. The once crude Espada had turned into a child again, at least mentally. The prospect of acquiring all this information was like going down to the candy store and picking up a morsel of that new chocolate his favorite company came out with. This mind wipe was possibly the best thing he could have gotten for himself. Square one... how exciting.

 Meanwhile... back at ye olde Fountain...

 The fountain would find itself changing yet again singalling the arrival of a new prime. The  ash from the fountain would find itself expelled from its grasp, washing over the primes that dare stay close to it. The hourglass in its center would change and lengthen, becoming less than an hourglass and more of a granite pillar. Square holes would open near its center, expelling a gratuitous amount of small slips of blank paper. Well... that and black ink. From the pool of glorified post-it notes and the sea of dark fluids, Serraph's body was pieced together like paper mache, the little slips compacting together to form a humanoid shape of sorts. The shape would step from the fountain with excess ink dripping from his body. He began walking foreward, with each step solidifying the former Espada's appearence, the paper eventually seeming to disapear. Before long there only stood a young teen dressed in an old, brown suit, his skin and hair as pale as the floor beneath him. His grey eyes glanced around, taking in the surroundings around him. Two others seemed to be nearby and a strange figure lay in front of him, covered in a strange fabric. Curious, his hand reached down, stripping the parachute from the body beneath.



"Ah! T-this is strange clothing you have here M-mister... W-what's it called?", he'd ask, oblivious to whatever pain he was having as the boy's pale hands glided over the parachute fabric.

"....owowowowowow..."

 "Its called an owowowowow? What a strange name for something equally strange. I like it!"

 The figure pulled himself to his feet, rubbing the growing lump on his head, "Eh? What? N-no it's..." He trailed off as if suddenly realizing something. A confident gleam sparked in his eye, his right hand swinging outward before jabbing himself in the chest with his thumb. "Heh... It's the amazing Usopp Skyrider, invented by the masterful Captain Usopp!! No..." he chuckled, a grin spread on his face. "The Great CAPTAIN KING USSSOPPP!", the person cried out rather dramatically, shoving his fist into the air as if he'd conquered some great beast. Serraph looked up at the strange man, a brow quirked curiously, before the long-nosed fellow leaned in a bit and whispered to him, as if divulging a secret. "That's me."

 Serraph blinked, pushing up his glasses before also raising his fist to the air. "Yeah!", he'd cry out, the long-nosed one's enthusiasm seemingly absorbed by the pale fellow before he realized. "H-hey... Super King Usopp."

 "Huh?"

 "What's a King?"

[Moon]

And that was it. Moon was now the champion of the Alola region. She had to say, it felt good. With a grin, she recalled Incineroar from the field, clipping the newly-filled Pokeball onto her belt. The professor simply smiled back.

"I couldn't win, even though I went all out... But what a refreshing feeling, woo!" he said. 

But before he could say anything else, the world disappeared. And with it, her whole life as she knew it.

---

“My name is Omni. This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse. You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.” 

'W-wha...?'  The champion thought. She couldn't see the figure speaking clearly, but it was humanoid. Probably. What the heck was going on? She was just battling with Kukui a second ago, wasn't she? Though she tried to voice these concerns, she couldn't even get her mouth open to say it. Odd. The white figure was coming into focus now, and he had no eyes. Well, thanks for the nightmare fuel, dude.

“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most."

Well, she desired to go back to Alola. But that probably wasn't possible, yeah? This Omniverse sounded pretty self-contained, from the way Omni worded it. Hey, she'd make it work. No worries.

“You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they, too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn." 

Reborn? What the heck did that mean? Was she basically immortal now? That would be cool, but that was a random thing. And what about these "others"? Others as in other Pokemon Trainers? Or something more sinister...? So many questions, so little time.

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

'Wait, I have more questions!' But the figure disappeared, and the world around her morphed into an endless sea of white. Behind her was a large spire with a depiction of the moon carved on the top.

---

Well, that was familiar.

Nearby were a collection of odd looking figures, seemingly talking about something or other. That seemed like her best bet for answers, so she went forth to say hello.

"A king is... it's a very important person! A person of great power!" said one of the people, with a confident tone to his speech. In front of him was another, one with long, blond hair. In fact, he actually looked a bit like an old friend of hers from Kanto... Huh.

"I see... Interesting! I'll have to write this down," said the blond-haired boy, to the tall one. Odd how he didn't know what a king was, but whatevs. She arrived at where they were talking, and cleared her throat.

"Alola!" said the girl, waving with both hands. Seems that tradition finally stuck in her brain. "My name's Moon. Do you know where we are, by chance?"

[Summer]

Smoke rose up from the formless floor of the Nexus, billowing out at seemingly random places, all spots that the blue metal man had blasted. Figures could faintly be seen through that obscuring veil, a few trying to recover from that last volley, and a few lying still. Only one person in particular caught Chronoire’s eye, the ninja boy who was supposed to be her source of information. Mitsuki laid deathly still on the ground, head covered in blood and most likely caved in.

“Well....” the witch muttered, sinking deeper into the chair she had conjured up while he had gone to fight. This wasn’t exactly unexpected, but that didn’t keep it from disappointing her. No matter how she looked at it, that boy had died way too easily. That had hardly been a fight. “This really sucks,” she complained to her familiar, who simply hummed an affirmative in response. Small jolts of pain coursed up her arm, in time with the bandage the giant croc was wrapping over her wounds. “I can’t even go after that guy in revenge or somethin’ stupid like that. I was barely keepin’ pace with the ninja, and he got crushed.”

“Are we back to square one?” Sebas asked, finishing the last wrap around her arm. It had only just been put on and it was already soaked in her blood.

“...Looks like it,” she responded after a moment, slowly rising from her seat. Certainly, none of the remaining contenders, who had all been fighting over some stupid blade, looked particularly like they were in the mood for talking. “I’m sure you noticed it as well...”

“Indeed.” Sebas stepped around back behind Chronoire, picking her jacket up off the chair.

“It seems that whoever made this world,” she said, her familiar helping to slip the jacket back on, “also locked up some of my magic.” Sealed. Not a fun fate. While she could at least she wasn’t stuck inside someone like the White Witch had been, the amount of her power that had been sealed was no laughing matter. “It took me years to gather up that much magic. So priority one is gettin’ that back. Any objections?”

“No.”

“Good.” The witch’s gaze slowly and methodically crawled across the white void. How, exactly, did one get back their power in such an empty place? If it was a standard seal, then a candy like “The Beautiful You” would work to dissolve it. The problem there would be getting someone else to make it. She couldn’t consume her own potions, unfortunately.

If, however, it was the result of being trapped in this world, then she could only hope she could build up enough power over time to eventually overpower the seal. That could take a long time, so it definitely not ideal. That or she could take it up personally with that Omni, and punch his face through the back of his skull. Again, that would require power she didn’t have right now. Unless he was like Weekend, little outright power and instead a master of traps. But damn it, she was Chronoire Schwarz the Sixth, she practically wrote the book on subspace manipulation. No amount of trickery could trap her, so Omni must be powerful. Too powerful for her to deal with right now.

“Hm...” a deep hum escaped Chronoire, and her gaze ceased sweeping across the void, stopping upon the spot where the ornate fountain should have been. The one landmark that dotted this abyss had changed, replaced by a fancy fountain with a person on it. Probably not an actual person unless he was unfortunate enough to get petrified, but a humanoid form nonetheless. The part that was stranger yet, however, was the fact that there was now several actual, living, breathing people milling around the fountain for whatever reason. She didn’t recognize any of the faces as participants of the battle royal, which meant that in all likelihood, they were up for a friendly chat.

“Let’s hope luck doesn’t fuck us again, Sebas,” she said, kicking back her heel into the chair, causing it to disperse into nothing. With another quick magic trick, she changed her witch’s hat into a cute french top hat. A warm smile appeared on her face as she stepped forward, her suited croc following her lead. It was time for some diplomacy.

[Roger Smith]

One last coughing fit, and the taste and smell of ash finally left his breathing. A moment more to steady his pace of breath, and he finally hissed out a long sigh through clenched teeth. "Ah...s'pose I owe ya a word o' thanks, lass..." he muttered, slowly drawing himself up to a sitting posture. "...might've not had such a good time of it if ye hadn't been here." His right hand lifted, adjusting his glasses. They felt just a little...off. Probably from the rough awakening. They could be fixed later. In his still-groggy mind, it took him so long to register that the young woman who had assisted him had actually spoken that he wasn't sure how to actually respond. "Not tae worry...ah've no intention of doin' anythin' that might give ya reason tae perceive me as a threat."

Perhaps it could have been worded better, but that was something to ponder about when he was more fully awake and coherent of mind. For now, there were more pressing matter to attend to than worrying about his civility or lack thereof. "So...don' s'pose you'd have any clear idea o' where we are, then?"

She just peered at him curiously, with a strange, mixed expression on her features. "Ah...no, not...not really," she hesitantly admitted. "I just got here a little while ago, myself."

"...I see," the crusader mumbled. "Freshly arrived, jus' the same as meself, then." He turned to regard her with an impassive look. "I hope yer own arrival here was much less...suffoca'in' than mine was." It was now that he finally gathered the strength to rise up fully, drawing his legs back under himself to stand up. He teetered for a moment, instances of his last time standing up flashing through his mind and eliciting a sharp pain in his chest. A sharp hiss of breath put a lid on that. "The Omniverse," he muttered, his eyes scanning the alarming lack of anything resembling scenery in the vast expanse around them. "Reflects th' wishes o' those who are par' of it, eh? Must be a terrible dearth o' wishes in these parts, then." He turned back to the girl again, looking down at her. "Were you...also brought here by tha' Omni creature?"

She seemed unsure about that one. "I...don't know. I guess so. I just woke up here, and I can't really..." Her hand went to the injury on her forehead.

Anderson merely stared silently for a moment, as if contemplating that. "Tha'...is jus' terribly unfortunate," he murmured, almost sadly. "Ah'm sure yer memory will come back tae ya, in time." He slowly paced away, back toward the 'fountain', observing it quietly. His arms folded behind his back as he watched the flow of ash, and the growing pile of it around the apparent deathtrap, spilling out of his point of egress. "....occurs tae me, ah've been terribly rude. Not even offerin' so much as mah name. An' tae the one who rescued me, even!" He laughed, a subdued, quiet little chuckle, bowing his head slightly. "Ah...a brush with possible death is no excuse for a lack o' manners. Do forgive me," he said, his tone lighthearted as he turned back around. "Alexander Anderson," he offered, with an inclination of his head.

"Uhm...it's alright, really!" the girl said rather quickly in return. "I...my name's Malon."

"Well then, Malon..." He straightened up again, turning from her to look at the surroundings. "...would ya mind terribly, informin' me of wha' it was tha' went on here?" He took a deep inhalation through his nose. "...it's faint, but I can smell it on the air. Blood, and not from tha' wound o' yours."

The look on Malon's face betrayed her thoughts. "It...it was..." Her eyes darted briefly to one side, off past Anderson toward something out of his vision. It was all he needed.

He turned about, slowly following the direction of her brief glance, until his eyes fell on the horse. And its passenger. He was quiet for a moment, just staring. "...well, and wha' have we were?" he questioned, his tone growing alarmingly cold. A dim sheen of light gleamed off his glasses, hiding his eyes behind the glare as he dropped his arms to his sides. With a swift, purposeful stride, he approached the horse, setting the creature into great alarm at the unsettling feeling he gave off. A short raise of one hand, and a hissed "Easy there..." and he had closed the gap, the horse seeming quite agitated but not having bolted yet. A good enough sign.

With an almost oppressive silence, the bayonet priest intently studied the body tied down to the beast of burden. He eventually lifted one hand to turn the head this way and that, looking at it carefully. "....well. Isn' this quite the sigh'..." he finally spoke up. "It's a pale mockery of a real vampire's bite...far too much actual throat lef' behind. But the drainin' of blood...unmistakable." He sighed, a deep hissing noise that spooked the horse enough it finally backed away from him. And the towering priest turned back to Malon. "I'll give ya the benefi' of the doubt, lass...and assume tha' you're no' the one who had yerself a drink," he said, his voice surprisingly calm, but with the same chilling tone. "But ye mus' be quite aware o' who did. An appearance, or which way they were headed after th' fact. Body's no' gone completely cold an' stiff ye', only happened fairly recen'ly." He lifted a hand to adjust his glasses once more. "So which way...did th' freak go?"

Any further talk was forestalled by the sudden...arrival of a newcomer, who quite literally dropped out of the sky.

"......." Anderson was left speechless.

"......" Malon was equally dumbfounded.

The changing of the fountain, and another unexpected arrival, put another nail in the thought of continuing that topic of conversation immediately. "....save that topic for later," Anderson muttered, glancing at Malon. "It's no' a subject wise tae discuss when there's company about." And all at once, his expression shifted, losing that ominous, emotionless cast and adopting a bright, almost amused disposition. "Besides, ah'm sure yeh've got nothin' tae hide!" And he turned his attention to the rather...eclectic band of new arrivals, slowly pacing over to join the increasingly eccentric conversation they were taking part in.

[Harlan Higgs]

The horse had proved agreeable to its passenger, and Harlan had spent most of the ride talking with the beast. Not with words, of course. The thing wasn't Mr Ed. But he got a picture of where it and it's armored rider had come from. Rolling green hills and a huge, tiered city, outlying villages and a very medieval aesthetic. He didn't know what it was called since horses couldn't read, but he trusted the beast to head towards home. Which proved to be a mistake. 

He saw a large archway in the distance, with the makings of encampment around it. A small wooden barricade built around the entrance to it, but no guards. Ahhh...this must be where they'd come from, the former watchmen now cooling near the fountain. Speaking of which...

Being an educated sort, and in possesion of a decidely nontypical aesthetic senss for a vampire, Harlan came to the conclusion that the fountain would be a fitting central landmark for wherever this was, this Omniverse. With that logic, he turned the beast aside before the guard's replacements came back out and noticed their lack of soldiers. Another fifteen minutes or so of riding, and he passed another gate, a bit smaller but made of cracked stone with eldritch engravings on it, branches and moss holding the stones together. A curious mist poured from the bottom of the gate that just screamed "Spooky!".

"Sod that." The Ravnos announced loudly, and continued heading away from the spooky gate. The next one, after more riding, seemed to have been carved from ice. None of these were proving entertaining or interesting. He'd eventually just have to pick one and step through it, with no information. Quite a risk. But the Ravnos was a gambler if nothing else. And speaking of risk...shit. He should have stolen the guard's armor and tried to pass himself off as one of them, at least at a distance. That'd be the best bet for getting into the grassy medieval land.

The longer he thought about it, the more it seemed like the best idea. Damnit! He should have thought about it then, but he was blood drunk and maybe a teensy bit ashamed of having frightened the naive farm girl. He turned from the frosty ice gate and spurred the beast back towards the fountain. Hopefully, the bodies would still be undiscovered...

As he drew closer, though, that was looking less and less likely. Multiple figures milled around the fountain, or whatever it had become now, a twisted jagged shape. "....bollocks." Harlan hissed under his breath. He summoned an illusory spyglass, and took stock of the situation. He was far enough away that he would only be the faintest smidge on the horizon to anyone trying to scry their surroundings. Although the spyglass revealed they were busy debating each other or gaining their bearings. Time for a little subterfuge...

He patted the beast's flank and muttered to it under his breath as he prepared to call upon the Discipline of Obfuscate. "Bugger off, mate." The horse dutifully turned and trotted away, as the Vampire's form began to blur and disappear, fading into the white landscape beyond him. Slowly, he crept forward back to where he'd come from, observing as the figures moved to and from each other. Eventually he was within fifteen feet of the closest one, the weird man with the long nose. Now was the time for patience, the Ravnos waiting, watching, and listening. Fingers held loosely at his sides, feeling the Omnilium coursing through his form, only the tiniest speck required for a convincing illusion. If it was required, of course.

[Malon]

"Yeah, that's right!" Malon exclaimed. "I mean, no I don't... uh, I mean... I have nothing to hide, no. I can explain. After..." After they'd helped out, though from what it looked the individual that fell from the sky was still alive and kicking. At least, he was talking like he hadn't just fallen to the ground and probably broken a few bones in the process. As they were still discussing the hourglass disappeared and was replaced by a peculiar... stone pillar? Malon had taken one step towards the newly arrived individual but stopped dead again when ink began to pour out.

Anderson and her ended up just observing the spectacle as two other Primes joined the one that had fallen from the sky, seemingly without taking notice of them, at least at the moment. The priest was the first to speak back up. "I don' guess ya kno' any of these people?"

"Ehm, no... none of them look familiar." Neither their faces nor their attires or manners of speech. Although she would have something to say about that man's description of a king.

"Eh. None o' them's the vampire, then?"

"No Sir... the uh, the man I met who did this, he was older. But, it's hard to say."

"How so?"

"Well, he... how do I say. He had no beard, no spots, not even scars, but his nose did look like it's been broken before. He was very slim and kinda tall. I mean, taller than me, probably shorter than you though." She placed her hand at about where she remembered his height while continuing to talk. "His ears were also round, like yours, and he had really black hair." Being a Hylian, her own were pointed and long - it was one of the first things she had noticed about Harlan. And with blonde hair being most common among them, darker colors were considered rare, especially black. "I would say maybe twenty? Could be thirty too though. Ehm... and then he was wearing strange clothes - black and something white underneath that really clung to his skin, and a black rounded hat."

"Did ya catch a look at his teeth?" Anderson interrupted her chaotic description, passing a hand over his face.

"His te- oh, no. I mean, I didn't really pay attention but now that you say it I don't think he ever showed them to me. Like he was smiling with his mouth closed... sorry."

"Tha's what vampires do... he was feignin' ta be human. Lucky fer you that those lads came around. What 'bout his skin color?"

"Well, he was definitely not a Gerudo or from around that area. His skin was like ours, but... I feel like he was rather pale."

"No surprise... he bit tha first person he got 'is hands on, probably was real thirsty." He motioned towards the body. "Why'd ya load 'im onto yer horse anyway?"

"I... well I couldn't leave him here. I wanted to bring him to his friends, let him be buried and such."

"You're certain that it was a man, yes? The vampire."

"Well... his voice was a man's and his looks were... I guess manly. He wasn't nearly as muscular as the men I know, but I guess he could've been nobility."

Anderson grumbled and pulled a bayonet from his sleeve that he held out to Malon, holding it by the blade so the handle was facing her. "If the corpse moves, stab it with this. I don't want no ghouls spreadin' around here. Once, through the heart. Same if ya meet the beast again. Jus' remember, ye saw too much. If he meets ya again, he's gonna want ye dead... don' even know how you're still alive."

Malon took the bayonet after a moment of hesitation and gave a tentative stab into the air to test it out, then attached it to her backpack. "... okay. Thank you. Listen, I... I should bring him to the gate, but I'll be back. Maybe I can get some help for the man that fell from the sky."

"Mh, do what ya think is right. I'll be on the lookout here. There's a good chance that the monster comes back. An' may the lord guide ya on yer path."

Malon wondered what that last bit meant, but presumed that it was some sort of saying where Anderson came from, like "Godesses bless the King" and such. She climbed into the saddle and checked on the body behind her. He was still a little warm... she shuddered and spurred the horse on, to take a straight route to what she would soon find out to be the gate to Camelot.

[Crocodile]

It was certainly beginning to get crowded at that strange landmark. The gullible kid with the glasses, the young girl who'd named herself “Moon”, and the strangely dressed red-head were all tame enough. But then there was the alligator.

Sure, Usopp had met plenty of Zoan-type Devil Fruit Users in his time. The Human-Human Fruit User Chopper was one of his best friends. But most of them had tried to kill Usopp in the past. Which made both the alligator and its red-haired friend a source of worry for the sniper.

His mind racing for a way out of this situation, Usopp was about to take a step back from the two when the girl started speaking, a warm smile on her face.

“So sorry to interrupt, but it was just so nice seeing people around that I couldn't help but to come over and introduce myself. I'm Chronoire Schwarz the Sixth, and my reptilian friend here is called Sebas.”

As she introduced it, the crocodilian creature nodded and said, “Much obliged.” It's voice was deep and hoarse, befitting its monstrous form.

“Might I ask your names?” Chronoire continued, her smile beaming comfortingly at the young trio.

Usopp blinked in confusion, marveling at the strange situation he'd found himself in. Since he'd met Luffy and the others, it seemed that most of those they'd met were enemies. But maybe in this place people were friendlier. While he sought to sort of his thoughts and feelings, his young friend spoke up.

“I'm Serraph Quarrere, and this is the Great Captain King Usopp!” Serraph said, gesturing to Usopp.

“Uh... just Usopp is fine...” the sniper muttered softly from behind Serraph.

Moon spoke up as well, “Alola Chronoire! I'm Moon! Maybe YOU know where we are?”

A melodious laugh came from Ms. Schwarz and somehow her smile became more sincere. “I probably know about as much as you do. You just got here, right? Well, I'm sure you heard what Omni said: this is apparently someplace called the...”

The woman continued speaking, but Usopp didn't hear the words. A feeling of dread had fallen upon him. S-something wasn't right. Though the sniper was just beginning to understand Haki, he knew this feeling... that sensation that someone was hidden nearby. His eyes scanned their surroundings and quickly caught sight of what was nagging at him. Not far away... someone was invisible. An aura of life-force was all that gave them away, and even that was faint... like whatever it was was barely even alive at all.

Immediately, Usopp's thoughts went back, and his face went pale. He remembered Thriller Bark, the island/boat where the Straw Hats had fought against Gecko Moria. One of the Warlord's minions had been a man who could turn invisible. Usopp remembered how strong the guy was too... he'd been able to fight evenly against even Sanji. No... nonononono... this was bad. This was very bad.

“Are you alright, Just Usopp?” Serraph asked, a worried look in his young eyes, breaking him from his thoughts..

Moon nodded in agreement, adding in, “You look like you've seen a ghost!”

Even the crocodile seemed to be concerned about him, and Chronaire even took a step towards him. He wanted desperately to tell them. To warn them of the danger they were in. But... the Zombie General hadn't made a move yet. Maybe he was just here to observe them. If Usopp told them... they'd certainly be killed. But maybe if her didn't say anything, the enemy would leave on his own... Yeah... that was it. He'd just pretend nothing was wrong. That was the only way they would survive.

The King of Snipers laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head, “N-no. It's nothing, really.”

“And it's not Just Usopp... It's Usopp...” he muttered softly afterwards.

“Ye wouldnae be lying now, would ye son?” a mysterious voice asked from behind the long-nosed boy.

A sinister shadow fell over Usopp, sending a shiver up his spine. Slowly, his head turned, eyes moving up to stare at the enormous priest towering over him. The man's glasses shown with an eerie light and his previously pleasant smile appeared far more intimidating to the young sniper.

Knees shaking, Usopp tried to regain his composure, waving his hand in front of his face with a nervous smile.

“O-of course not... uh... Who are you?” Usopp asked fearfully.

“Ye mae call me Father Alexander Anderson. No need fer introductions on yer part, Usopp. I apologize fer eavesdropping, but I couldnae help but to overhear ye from nearby.” the priest spoke flatly, still eyeing the sniper suspiciously.

Usopp was unable to meet that imperious gaze as Anderson continued to leer imperiously down at him. He tried desperately to think of a way out of this situation. He couldn't just run, that'd just make him more suspicious. Usopp couldn't quite put his finger on it... but this guy didn't seem like someone to mess with. Like Zoro, something about him just seemed... feral.

Of course, it didn't seem like lying was working either. The man was already suspicious of him. If he told the truth, that invisible flea-bag would probably kill them all. That left only one option.

“Hey! Check this out!” Usopp suddenly yelled, pulling his slingshot from his satchel. Quick as lightning, a small metal ball was placed into its strap and he aimed above the group's heads.

“Special Attack: LEAD STAR!” he shouted as he launched the projectile skyward. As it raced towards the heavens, Usopp retrieved a second ball and prepared a shot. Soon, it reached the apex and began to fall back towards the ground.

“Usopp Super Special Ultra Trick Shot... LEAD STAR DEFLECT!!!”

The second ball sped towards the first. Spectacularly, they impacted in the air a couple dozen centimeters from the tops of the shorter people's heads, showering the group with harmless sparks. But then it all went wrong. The first projectile rebounded harmlessly towards the fountain, its momentum all but spent. But the second... the second made a beeline towards that invisible threat.

Usopp's jaw dropped, eyes bugging comically from his head as he watched it get closer and closer to its target. His hand stretched forward, as though by sheer force of will he could stop it. Soon enough, it struck, a faint, hollow thud marking the end of its course. This was it. Usopp's adventure ended, before it had even begun. Tears welled up in his eyes and his thoughts drifted back to the good times he had had.

“Seriously? A fookin' ball-bearin'? Wot kin'a sod hits a gent with a metal marble, eh? And who even uses a slingshot, anyway? Wot are ya, nine?” came the irritated exclamation from a now visible and annoyed man, dressed strangely similarly to the crocodile.

[Serraph Quarrere]

There was... a lot going on. This in itself was an understatement. Omni was sure busy today with everyone that seemed to circle around. Is this what happens when people are taken from where ever they originated and dumped into a world they knew little about? It would seem so. Serraph himself seemed to lose a large portion of his memories when he himself was transferred. He didn't know the events that led up to his capture, and his memories of those he once knew seemed to be erased. However he knew basic knowledge of the world he came from. He remembered he came from Earth. He remembered bits and pieces of its history and upbringing. He remembered that he himself, Serraph Quarrere was not alive. He was a spirit of sorts, his heart hollowed out as symbolized by the clean gaping hole in his neck. He knew from his desire to listen to every detail and memorize every action and event around him that this was attempt to fill that hole. The thought of having to go through such tedious collection would have most normal humans sighing in grief, but to the pale Arrancar such a venture would leave him in a grinning mess.

 Seeing his new friend down in his stunt failure merely brought a smile to the boy's face. The man was funny and entertaining, but he could tell there was something beyond that. Serraph would be looking forward into prying his way into that man's history. Until then he'd have to be careful. The way people acted around him often rubbed off on himself. The lightness of his chest and the sudden urge to attempt whatever the hell Great King Us- err.... Usopp  was evident. His body trembled as he led back the waves of laughter threatening to crawl from the hole in his neck. Quickly his hand snapped to his mouth, as it let free the gates of laughter and happiness. It was enough to nearly make him forget about all the others that stood nearby, but as he opened his eyes upon the man that had gotten hit by mistake.

 Looking at the man made him feel uneasy, but maybe it was because of the uneasiness the man had made Usopp feel prior. Why would one need to hide themselves when the people hear clearly didn't have the intent to fight? It was suspicious. His grin came less than one of amusement and more of momentary gratification. How this person became invisible. It was fascinating. This man seemed to use a sort of illusion. Omnilinium was really such a versatile material to use in such a way. To test this he'd hold his arm up in front of his eyes, his gaze carefully studying his arm as he concentrated his omnilinum through its papery structure. Before long the side of the arm facing Serraph seemed to dim, its pale skin turning transparent. Curious, Serraph would crane his neck over his arm. It would seem not all of his arm was transparent as the man in front of him was. Perhaps this was due to awareness of everyone to his presence? Perhaps it was.

 "This is... Interesting", he'd say absent minded to himself, a pale hand grasping his chin as he looked down to the sad sad Usopp. Perhaps this invisibility isn't the only thing he can copy. Perhaps he can copy weapons of sorts to, such as Usopp's sling shot. Concentrating on what he saw, the sparkling material gathered on the insides of his arms. Paper began to flake from the boy's hands and build upon itself. Compacting and smoothing, the mass of paper would harden and take shape. Only a sprinkle of Omnilinium was needed to fully replicate its color and feel before he held a perfect copy of Usopp's weapon in his hands. Testing the elasticity of its straps, Serraph could see the weapon did indeed have potential. To one skilled, its user could land a great many of its shots. Thus it was a weapon of SKILL, not BRAWN. A weapon intended for harassment, not one for killing.

 Simple and effective, such a weapon was perfect for one such as Usopp. 

 However... It didn't feel right among Serraph's hands. Nay, his palms yearned for the hilt of the blade he had forgotten, but his body had not. It was a strange feeling to crave something that was once so natural to him. With Omnilinium, even the unknown was perhaps within reach. Such a thing excited the boy to no end, but... perhaps now was not the time to summon weapons no matter how inciting it was.

[Harlan Higgs]

Pokk

Harlan rubbed his forehead in disbelief, staring at the long nosed manboy with a look of annoyance and incredulity. Well, this was definitely not how he'd intended for things to go. What was that about risk again? He wasn't quite sure how to play this, this motley gathering of people and new Primes all a bit frozen in shock and the hilarious awkwardness of the entirely unexpected. Except for two of them...

One, the kid with the hole in his neck, was gormlessly staring at his fingers and concentrating with a dopey smile, after a peal of laughter. The Ravnos concluded he could safely disregard that one for the time being. Dennis the Menace who'd shot him looked like he was about to piss himself, same conclusion. But the real threat was the tall, intimidating man with the priest's collar and the unecessarily reflective glasses. Harlan could feel his Beast raising his hackles, the blood boiling in his undead veins. By fucking Caine himself, the man had true faith.

"Well now...does seem a roight bit crooked, oi unnerstan that. But ah, oi'm not from a place you might call safe. Itz usually tha best course o' action to see what stranjahs are loike first before approachin." Christ, was he laying it on thick. He tilted his head at Anderson, the man positively bristling with intent. Was he...sniffing the air? "Yew don't seem to like me much, father. 'At's a bit disheartenin' to an old school Oirish Catholic like meself, always made it a point to pay my dues to tha church."

He kept his distance, spreading his palms wide to show he was visibly unarmed. "Name's Hendy. Vic Hendy, ta be formal. Gonna assume yer all in tha same boat as me, dragged 'ere by dis Omni fella?" Just play the bumpkin. Don't give them any reason to latch on to. He wasn't in the wrong; sure he may have been a bit overly brutal, but he could rationalize it away. 'Oooh, me poor 'eart is bleeding, oi can't control it sometoimes, I really am truly regretful'

If he could get enough of the saps on his side, then it would greatly improve his odds for survival. If not, well....he'd lived through the Week of Nightmares, played with both Sabbat and Camarilla alike. He had horrific memories up his sleeves to weaponize and send them fleeing.

[Roger Smith]

Anderson remained silent, staring at the newly-revealed man, who had seemingly been invisible until that moment. Such trickery set a very poor precedent, especially given the situation at hand. And even with his offered explanation, it did nothing to sway the building opinion of the crusader. It had been written, Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. Such sorcery as to render oneself invisible was an abomination, as much as that of being a creature of the night. And as the gears slowly turned in his head, Anderson was drawing to the conclusion that this man, this Vic Hendy, as he offered his name, was not merely a practitioner of black magic, but also the vampire that he had been made aware of.

It was faint, now. Almost overpowered by the volume of people in attendance, in the immediate area. And it would have been all too easy to dismiss it as coming from the other body, lying not far off, with a gaping wound blasted in the chest. A large-caliber firearm, from the look of it. Not the first time a vampire had used the weapons of modern man to aid in its hunt.

It was faint, but it was there. That sickly-sweet, almost salty, metallic tang. Even now, already drying and losing the sharpest edges of its pungency. But decades of the Hunt had honed his mind, and the executioner of God could not be mistaken. Blood. Vic Hendy reeked of it, in a way beyond simply the physical. His every word, slurred in that ridiculous, almost comical accent, expelled the faintest whiff of it. It would have been terribly, terribly easy to not notice it all, especially at the distance between them.

But he knew. Anderson knew.

In the blink of an eye, a flash of silver. Anderson's formerly empty right hand bore a bayonet, clutched tightly. Jesus Christ is in Heaven. The message on his glove stretched taut over his clenched fist, as Anderson's expression twisted, doing one last comparison in his mind between this man and the description that Malon had given. Slowly, he lifted his face, twisting his gaze about until one eye could be seen beyond the glare on his glasses, wide and staring, with a borderline insane stare. The pale green of his eye trembled, wavering unsteadily, crazily. "Thy tongue deviseth mischiefs; like a sharp razor, workin' deceitfully," he announced, a sharp, fanatical edge to his tone. And with a swift, ringing shiiing, a matching bayonet was suddenly in his left hand, gleaming and shimmering silver in the glare of the Nexus.

"Thou lovest evil more than good; and lying rather than tae speak righteousness." A swift clatter of metal on metal, as both of the silver blades came together. Showers of sparks spattered across the ground, one blade being drawn across the other, as Anderson slowly paced forward, toward the 'old school Oirish Catholic'. "Tha smell o' death crawls on yer hide in a way ye cannae ever hope tae be clean of," he growled. The cross about his neck shifted, jingling slightly, with the sound of a bell chiming. Was it hollow? "We've all jus' arrived here...an' the Lord has seen fit tae make it so, that I migh' be here tae clenase this place o' the likes o' you!"