Shattered Sands

[Shay Cormac]

Through the Nexus the Templar went, and like the ancestors of his Order, Shay once again found himself roaming the sands under the searing hot beating of the sun's rays. The Endless Dunes, home to Nippur, and the previously standing New Babylon.

Gilgamesh would have hated to see his soldiers like this. Shay doubted the king would even let him be part of the faction, let alone step foot in Nippur after such a series of humiliating defeats.

However embarrassing it might have been to the golden boy, Shay breathed easier realizing that the man was no longer here, and for once in his life, the Templar felt like he was allowed to mess up every once in a while; at least when the only thing on the line was his own neck. However pleasing of a thought that was, Shay Cormac then remembered how long Nippur must have been abandoned by any presence of Primes.

He gulped, there was no way in hell that city still has any semblance of defendable walls at this point.

Shay continued to worry to himself, following the vaguest of memories that allowed him to reach the city that held the palace of Gilgamesh's throne; the train tracks being the only thing guiding him at this point.

The man really didn't come to think how hard navigating a desert was. At least on sea, he thought, I had time to cool off...

Not much else was to be said about that, or thought of. This entire situation was an absolute trainwreck. Shay continued to walk for miles on end, passing the barely familiar rocks, the same as he did last time he was here.

He had to admit, being alone like this was absolute torture. The man always knew of himself to be bad dealing with his own thoughts, but he was surprised to see the how terrifyingly overwhelming the two  feelings of loneliness and desperation were affecting him in the context of almost losing yourself in the middle of a desert that stretched to the sizes of the oceans he was familiar with sailing on.

Yet now, he could only walk. Walk, and mumble under his breath as he strode forward, looking for purpose again.

"Just follow the tracks," the Templar sighed, repeating, "just follow the tracks."

[Enel]

The little brown-hooded men lead me out through the sands.

I dread the thought of their accommodations. But these people could be useful. I’ve yet to establish any reliable contacts within the area. And I think …

A jolt of electricity creeps up my spine but I hold my stomach.

I think I’m going to need allies in order to win at this game.

Besides, it’s all well and good being God, but what good is that if I don’t got any followers?

We make our way across the sands for maybe half an hour. It’s boring.

Then, as we cross over a dune … something catches my sight. It’s …!

“Hey!” I roar. “You’re the guy who interrupted my fight with that other guy!”

[Shay Cormac]

The coat of sweat now permeating through Shay's heavy coat had the man distracted; despite having heard the threatening voice of a man only about ten meters off call the Templar out in a rather threatening tone, Shay himself took a few seconds to notice.

His mind was in an absolute daze, and walking for about an hour straight in the middle of hot, sandy nowhere didn't help that fact. Yet, he was supposed to believe the noises his brain was detecting as another human being?

No. The man thought to himself, firmly shaking his head and continuing to walk.

Of course, the voice in question didn't take kindly to this. Shay continued to look forwards upon the hazy sea of sands before him, about to walk over a steep dune, before... The voice itself got louder. More threatening.

"I'm talking to you!" the voice continues, "How dare you ignore me, mortal?!"

The Templar stops in his tracks. A moment of silence passes.

...

Yet, he does not look back. Shay Cormac, finally coming to his senses, realizes that is no hallucination his brain is having. The privateer swordsman thought the voice to be familiar upon hearing it, but up until he heard the word 'mortal' come out of the man's mouth did he realize who exactly it was challenging him.

...Enel, right? Shay scratched at his light stubble of a chin, finally looking back.

The freakish earlobes, baggy pants, sweat-induced shirtlessness, terrible fashion sense in general; it was definitely the Enel character Shay had previously headbutted quite some time ago.

Of course, Shay Cormac didn't turn around for a reason. He already knew it was the egotistical thunder-chucker from beforehand. No, he wanted Enel to see how Shay felt about him at the current moment.

Not being too direct, the Templar was seen gently loading lead balls into the barrels of one of his flintlocks. A slow bite of the paper, pouring the gunpowder down, a push of the ramrod, and finally, the projectile. Enel squinted, familiar with flintlock weaponry himself, immediately took this as a threat. In which case Enel was right, it was.

Neither of them knew, but the concepts and ways of life both Primes knew in their homeworld were strikingly similar by nature.  

In turn, it made this setting all the more unfamiliar for the both of them, and consequently, more resentful of each other. Enel knew what it was like being on the end of a mortal's gun, and the drive these creatures had against people like him. On the other side, Shay knew what it was like to face somebody on the same level as him, yet at the same time thought of themselves as high and mighty enough to ignore any notion of criticism.

Not like it mattered now, anyways. The two men found themselves facing each other in the middle of the Endless Dunes, weapons in hand. Shay slowly raised the gun up to Enel off in the slight distance, knowing he had a slight high ground. The Templar inhaled.

"I am... not sure if I am a pious man anymore," Shay came to say. He exhaled as he looked up into the cloudless sky.

Keeping his gun aimed, he continued, "but, I know you are not God."

The Templar could see the man's crooked frown. Enel wanted to be the one monologuing right now, but alas, Shay took that right away from him once more.

"Turn away and leave now, or I will shoot. If that's not enough, I will strike you down with force, for never in my life I have seen such a heartless, remorseless bastard as you."

The privateer needed no answer. He was certain the self-proclaimed God he was aiming at didn't need to answer himself, carefully observing the Templar placing his finger on the trigger as he opened his mouth to respond.

Perhaps the man was not in any place to pray, but he could at least hope. Shay closed his eyes for a brief moment, lifting his head to the sky once more.


May the Father of Understanding guide me.

[Enel]

The supplication of my entourage had served to quell my anger a little bit. But here he was again, a man I didn’t even know, telling me what I was and wasn’t.

I narrow my eyes and lower my voice. “Do you believe in fate, mortal?”

He shrugs almost exasperatedly.

I continue. “I believe it strange that we ran into each other again so soon. The greatest of all gods, and the most impudent of all humans. Surely … you were meant to be saved.”

I spread my arms wide. “Here I am. In this world, this place, this time. Taken down to the level of a mortal.” I pause to let it sink in. “The only opportunity you’ll ever have to best a God.”

I smile. I don’t need my haki to predict his next move, though it comes anyway.

A bullet.

I jolt forward in that moment, as the flintlock sparks and the mini-men behind me scream for cover. The bullet slips past my neck, my fist comes forward, wreathed in lightning, and I plant it in the mortal’s stomach. It’s hard to discern what he feels beneath the immediate look of shock upon his face. Is that anger? Regret? It’s delicious, whatever it is. I want more.

I thrust my other hand forward as an open palm, letting loose a barrage of electricity. He’s damaged, but not incapacitated. Bah, if this were the real world …

But it seems I’ve underestimated him. Instead of backing off, as I’d predicted, he goes in for the kill, shoving his pistol-arm through the electricity, even as he screams, and into … my …

The worst moments are when you feel an attack coming, but you can’t dodge it. Even as I angle my head backwards, the bullet explodes on my chin, drawing blood and kicking me back off my feet. I don’t see much but I feel his weight come down on me, trying to pin me.

Immediately, instinctively, my body lets out every spark of electricity. I’ve seen the effects my electricity has on others, and I’ve even felt it, thanks to the damn robot who was able to copy my powers before. What that tells me is, he should be hurting a lot. He should be trying desperately to get away from me.

But he’s not. He thinks he can hurt me more than I can hurt him.

The fool. He’ll only hasten his demise.

He tries to get me with that hidden blade of his, and I grab his outthrust hand with both of mine. We struggle, the blade a few inches from my face. I can see the pain on his face, and it’s almost ecstatic to be able to see it from so close, to see him so close to hurting me only to be denied it.

As I push his hand away, he shifts his weight and brings his other fist to bear on the side of my face. That’s less good. But it lets me roll over, turning the tables. Now he’s beneath me, and I shock him with both palms, letting everything I have course into his chest. But still he resists, headbutting me backwards and drawing his sword into a cutting slice across my ribcage. Bastard.

“You like pain?!” I spit in his direction.

“No,” he says. He brings the sword down in a cutting arc and I have to bend backwards to dodge it. I swear I feel it take off one of my chest hairs. Inbetween his sword and dagger, it’s actually pretty hard to dodge, even with my mantra filling me in on his every move. Finally he spits out: “I just don’t hate it as much as I hate you.”

This is genuinely amusing to me. I laugh, despite the opening it gives him. “Not a religious man, eh?” I retort.

This pisses him off even more, and I can see it on his face.  Oh, I’m enjoying this so much. “You’re not God,” he says.

That pisses me off. “How would you know? Have you met God? Is he kind and merciful and loving and forgiving?” I sneer. “You see what you want to, even when the truth is right in front of your own eyes.” I let my power surge. “I’m greater than you. Accept it. Accept your destiny.”

“Fuck you,” he says.

[Shay Cormac]

    “Fuck you.”

The words slipped from Shay's mouth. The man had to stop for a second, shocked with himself. It's been a very long time since those two words even conceived to form in the Templar's head.  

Yet, they were genuine all the same. Even Enel knew of it; that expression of contempt mortal men and women give to him in the heat of battle. Of course, Shay knew as well. The so-called God was pleased by the man's anger.

Then, Shay wondered, slipping a rope dart from under his cuffs as Enel laughs, why bother?

No more words from the privateer were spoken. Letting the rope of his weapon dangle for a second, Shay flourished the dart. Spinning in the air at violent speeds, Shay slowly walked towards Enel. The gentle whizzing of the flying metal was dangerously close, threatening to nick at the God's nose. The intention was clear; or so it was to Shay's opponent.

"What's this?" Enel chuckled, "need a bit of room?"

The dart was still swinging, and the man was still walking. A few steps further.

Enel, cocky enough to grasp at the rope flying towards his face, opened his mouth to speak in confidence, only to grasp at nothing but air.

In a mere second, the God watched as Shay Cormac swung the rope dart above his head, taking a step back, and throwing it. Though Shay immediately noticed he aimed lower than intended as due result of being at point blank range, the Templar was pleased enough to see the sharp metal stick into the man's arm. Shay could tell that the dart only stuck in about an inch, but there was something cathartic watching a person who claimed themselves to be a deity bleed.

Still in motion, the Templar held his breath. Almost stepping off balance, Shay hopped out of his low stance, not stopping his feet for a second. Yanking at the rope still in his hands, Shay let the weapon fall to the ground as he backpedaled a good distance away.

At least, a good enough distance to use his most distinct arms at his disposal. As quickly as the man could, the Templar breathed in through his nose, reaching for his air rifle on his back. Crudely aiming at Enel's feet, Shay reached over to trigger his grenade launcher to fire.

However, at the corner of the man's eye, Shay could plainly see two... small figures approaching him as he moved. Before he could even turn his head, the two Primes could hear strangely distorted high-pitched... screams? Shay pondered, hesitating to fire.

Turning his head, the Templar's arm was bumped into by a tiny humanoid in a brown robe and hood. Emphasis on the word "tiny," for if Shay found himself in a situation where he wasn't in a sudden death duel with a Prime, he might have smiled at how much these little ones resembled gremlins.

Though, since he is in mortal combat after all, the privateer felt a knot immediately form in his stomach as he felt the recoil of the grenade launcher. Subtle, but just enough to grab his attention in order to watch as the projectile completely missed his opponent. The gremlin-like men ran in a panicky circle, running off to find another dune to hide behind, and the only other thing Shay could see was the electric man approaching him, bō-staff quickly approaching his face...

"Shite."

THWACK!

Immediately, Shay felt not only his jaw and how it was misaligned with his face, but also the smug aura permeating from Enel currently behind him. By the Father, did it hurt. The man's first reaction was to grasp onto the dent in his face; Shay didn't even get to feel the sting of his hand touching his newly formed wound when he could already feel blood trickling down his neck.

The Templar heard yet more friction in the air, and instinctively decided to do the best combat roll he could accomplish in that moment, which didn't look anything more than clumsy and accidental.

Feeling his body lurch against the hot sand beneath him, Shay's body suddenly ached in more places than his cheekbone. The fight in the Nexus did a number on the man, and it made him nervous. Thankfully for him, Enel was in the same boat. Yet, the God was trying his best not to show for it.

So? Shay thought, picking his body up slowly, I'll be patient. That'll do.

Breathing deeply, the Templar turned to face Enel, watching as the golden staff collided with the dunes below, narrowly avoiding Cormac's back. Dusty sand flew into the air in what looked to be a small cloud, and watching it made Shay slightly grateful it didn't hit him. At the same time, the man groaned in frustration watching as Enel flew forward, eager to continue his onslaught of attacks.

Ripping both sword and dagger from his sheaths, Shay steadied his breaths further, through the hazy air of the desert, the sand in his boots, and the sweat dampening his coat.

Distance, he thought as he put both his weapons forward in a defensive stance. Now he needed a bit of room. The Templar could feel it in his gut; here was the moment this conflict would resolve, in his blood or Enel's.

Enel could feel it too.

"Perish," the God growled, raising his staff up to the heavens, striking down.

[Enel]

He’s not bad. He never was bad. Just not me.

I bring the staff down eight or nine times or something. I kick his implements away. The sword, the dagger, the stupid rocket launcher. It’s fucking hot. I’m tired.

“Listen, you …” I say. “Listen. I got a proposition.”

He groans, signifying he’s still not dead. That’s good.

“I’ve got a meeting,” I say, as I stand up straight and rotate my shoulder, “With a man up there named Omni. He’s been … pushing me around, making me live in this … nightmare game-world, and I won’t stand for it. I’m going up there to do to him what I did to you. But ... I need allies. There are things out there, he’s made, that require more power to defeat than I currently have in this sick … heresy. I must bring it all down.”

“Say it,” spits Shay.

I growl. “I’m making you an offer.”

My stomach rumbles, and it’s a suitably epic sound effect to accompany the pregnant pause I deliver before the dramatic reveal.

“Help me. Find this Omni.

“Or die.”

My stomach rumbles dramatically.

[Enel]

The silence extends uncomfortably. My grimace becomes a scowl.

“You’re trying my patience,” I snarl.

Still silent.

“I won’t repeat myself. This isn’t a chance you’ll ever have again.”

Still silent.

They say you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. In other words:

“Some people cannot be saved.”

I wouldn’t even bother using my powers to kill him. Except, I want to make this painful. I want this to be burned into his memory long after he dies and comes back. I want him to never forget what it was like to cross me.

I shock him until I can smell burnt flesh. Then I stop. I let him gasp and writhe around in the sand for a bit. His skin is pink like a deep sunburn, and his jacket smokes. I shock him again and the screams almost sound like they’re in relief; like he wants to die.

Then I get an idea.

“You there,” I call. “Hood-men!”

I can’t see anything. I curse under my breath.

“I know you’re still out there. Get over here, NOW!”

I finally see one of the little hooded creatures pop up from behind a dune, friends in tow. They scuttle over.

I twirl my staff expertly. Then I try something. It’s been a while since I could muster enough voltage, but it’s been gradually increasing. I channel a large amount of electricity into the Bo. I move the sparks through the metal, pushing the gold and shaping it to my desires. It’s difficult, but not too difficult.

After about twenty seconds, I manage to transform the Bo into a trident. It’s much longer than it would’ve taken outside of this illusion, but with some practice I should be able to make it quicker again.

“You.” I point it at the one with the most charring. He’s the one who tried to steal my staff before. At my gesture he flinches. Then a second later, he seems to understand. They’re cowards, but they’re not slow on the uptake.

He takes the trident.

“Now,” I point to the nearly-dead Shay. “Complete it.”

He hesitates. Only for a second, though. He moves over to Shay, who eyes the creature.

He turns the trident upside down. It’s over twice his height, and he’s not strong, but he holds it unsteadily. With a childlike thrust, he pushes it down and into Shay’s neck.

Shay gurgles. The trident isn’t all the way through. The creature has to pull it out, and stab again. I watch closely. He stabs down again, and leans into the trident, forcing it down and the blood up. After a few seconds, Shay ceases to move.

With some struggle, the creature removes the trident from Shay’s dead neck. He wipes the blood on Shay’s clothes before offering it to me. I take the trident back, whipping it sideways to remove the rest of the blood before transforming it back to its usual state. Only seven seconds this time. Not bad.

Then I look down at the creature. “You belong to me now, son.” I smile.

Now, where was I?