I'm going to force myself off playing the XBOX 360. Since i got bored of Spore on the comp, the only thing standing between me and mugging is my 360. Which i will stop playing completely. From right...now.

And Allen Iverson's crossover is bloody gay. Damn sic. My legs aren't manly enough to do it. Neither is my skill.

So in addition to more bball after exams, something keeping me hanging in there...is the prospect of Fallout 3! Out on Oct 28 i believe...

So, I'm sticking firmly to TV, manga, and possibly a little fanfiction. Oh yeah and music. How CAN you live without music?

And I haven't ran in dunno how long. Im too lazy.

I have absolutely no idea who has been looking foward to this kind of post. This is a Temptation type post. Yeah, you guys remember it eh? The Magnum Ice-Cream? Without further ado, lets have it. The entire post is sarcastic, without any proof to backup my claims, and written by me lowering my IQ by 1 point. Muahahah.

THIS IS A SARCASTIC POST, AND SO IF YOU ARE OFFENDED PLEASE DO NOT COME AND KILL ME, OR SEND ME MANY FLAME MAILS. ALSO, I APOLOGISE TO THE COMPANIES OF PIXAR, AND THE ENTIRE MOVIE INDUSTRY FOR BEING SUCH A SMARTASS. I DON'T KNOW WHY IM APOLOGISING IN ADVANC, BUT WHO THE HECK KNOWS WHATS GOING ON IN THIS SCREWED UP WORLD WHEN GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS SPEND 24/7 BLOGSURFING AND HACKING INTO PEOPLE'S BLOGS.

I mean the situation is like this.

Guy A: "Hey, I don't like *insert race or government corporation*, so i'm going to bitch about how they make my life difficult!"

Meanwhile, in Section 114ACASKL of the GSDKP (Government So Damned Kay Poh) unit.

Guy who found Guy A's stuff, by using a hacking programme to bypass his password to the blog: "Sir, we've found someone breaking teh 1337 rulez!"

Sir: "WHAT! Another blogger not conforming to our societal rules! Take'em down boys."

Meanwhile...

Guy A: "What the heck, but its supposed to be personal! Anyways, its my personal experience in life, and its completely true, so how can you arrest me?"

Sir: "I don't have any reason, other than the fact your blog makes me unhappy. Die, bitch!"

.....................................................................................

Yows. That was really stupid. Anyways.

Movie Review....Of....WALL.E

Wall E is an AMAZING MOVIE. Its so amazing, I'm incredibly angry for not being able to put the dot in the middle, and as such, am unable to fully reflect on the logo of the movie.

I never actually watched the movie, but I'm going to use my underdeveloped inferential skills to review the movie muahahah.

First thing we should consider, Jin Fu said that the movie was OK, considering that he watched it with a hot girl. EDIT: I'm sorry, I was wrong, Jin Fu CAN get hot girls. But that still means he would be concentrating on the hot girl and not on the movie! Imagine! By hearing the sound effects only, Jin Fu said the movie was par, and as such, imagine if he actually watched the thing!!!???!! The movie would be WOAHAWAOWAAH.

Fantastic stuff. Also, I just thought of another film that will SLAUGHTER THE MARKET. It will be called..."My robot girlfriend".

The film will feature a guy who realizes that his girlfriend is a actually a robot! This paves and bulldozes the way for hot guy on robot stuff. Obviously I'm talking about RECHARGABLE BATTERIES ON THE ROBOT.

Also, the romantic comedy will have random cries of "ROOOOOO-BY", the short form of robot, and "MOOOOOOO-MMMA", both phrases bearing significant references to "WALL-E" and "E-VA". Awesome. This will trigger the passive reducio ad absurdum area of the human celebral, prompting it to release 100000001 endorphins per second, 1 more than when watching hot guy on chair stuff. Obviously, I'm talking about sitting on the chair. Pants on.

If I or Steven Spielberg were to direct the movie, it would surely fail. However, throw it to Pixar or Disney, watch them come up with a painfully cliche storylined using the latest facial technology that hasnt improved since "The Incredibles" which took place a loooong time ago, and the audiences will flock to it, just like they flock to Surf's Up, Open Season, and The Chronicles Of TEH PWNAGE Crusaders, featuring Bruce Willis as Tom Cruises Father, Tom Cruise as Xin Yong's teacher, and Xin Yong as Jessica Alba's hot hot brother.

Oh no, I just gave away spoilers for the next overrated movie. Don't worry, all they have to do is to throw in a couple of swear phrases, like what they did in Hancock, and everyone will forget about how shitty the movie is.

Basically, Wall E rawks lololololo. The summary. From wikipedia.

Kirk Honeycutt of The Hollywood Reporter declared that WALL-E surpassed the achievements of Pixar's previous eight features (which put the bar like 10 cm from the floor), saying that the film had the "heart, soul, spirit and romance" of the best silent films "No doubt the WAAAAAALLLEEEEE contributed to the silence". He said that the filmmakers managed to tell a terrific story through visual and aural ideas which enabled the robotic characters to convey "a rainbow of emotions" (Like WALL E putting a bra on his face to get some cheap laughs). He said the visuals were arguably Pixar's best and praised the creation of a ruined Earth city and a human spaceship as "fantastically imaginative" (as imaginative as viewing the visuals from dunno how many years ago. Come on lah, can it match up to video games?). Honeycutt said the film's definitive stroke of brilliance was in using a mix of archive film footage and computer graphics to trigger WALL-E's romantic leanings (Romantic? Sorry, I didn't know that the definition of romantic was changed to a two robots holding each other's hands and taking time to take turns going "WALLLELEEEEE and "EEEEEEVAAAAAA"). He praised Burtt's sound design, saying "If there is such a thing as an aural sleight of hand, this is it" (WAAAAAAALLLLLEEEEE is a fantastic sound design to trigger all people to go "awwwww".). Honeycutt concluded by saying that despite the film's acknowledged nods to other works (2001: A Space Odyssey, and moments where robots "run riot" bringing to mind Monsters, Inc.), WALL-E could be Pixar's most original work to date. (WHAT? EVEN BETTER THAN TOY STORY? NO WAY.)

And so, ends my incredibly stupid review. I hope no one is offended, and if you are, have a cookie. *points to the virus sites where you can get cookies from*. Haha, so funnny, I hate myself.

Over-reacted abit. After all, my mum's just concerned about me. Stupid fluctuating emotions.

Not much to say, other than failing terribly at layups. Im going to just shoot all the way, no lay ups, uh huh.

And we need a photo album of ourselves to take overseas for Overseas Immersian Programme. Whee, camwhoring?

My relationship with my mom is becoming increasingly strained.

Because I keep arguing with her over my personal issues, and I hate having to report to her for everything. Like, yesterday i just got into an argument, because I was appalled that not only did she force me to study all the time when i was in school, after i agreed unhappily that i wouldn't bball, she freaking asked WHERE I WAS STUDYING.

I told her the school library. She looked at me suspiciously, before walking away.

WHAT THE HELL, IM SURE YOU DON'T EVEN TRUST ME TO CHOOSE MY OWN LOCATION TO STUDY.

Sian lah. I think I'm complaining too much. I'm trying not to do so but yeah. Have to control my temper from flaring up.

Laran lay, sprawled over the floor. He lifted his head weakly, only to see a razor sharp end of Acquiesance mere centimetres from his sweat-encrusted face.

"Time to die. Bloodlust Cero." A glowing red beam emanated from the sword, as the shadowy figure fed more and more arcane energy into the attack.

Laran's brain screamed at him. Move! Move now or you're a dead man! Rejection echoed those thoughts, but even the mighty spirit hadn't any energy left to synchronize with Laran.

Trying to lift himself off the floor, he only succeeded in crashing against the cold marble surface. The ice-cold sensation of the floor spread throughout him, foreshadowing the arctic touch death would soon bring.

"Goodbye." He whispered, as he closed his eyes in anticipation of his fate.
.....................................................................................

It just popped into my mind as I was writing a little of chapter 10. This scene may or may not happen, entirely depending on my PMS mood. Private Me Situation. I guess that means according to how i feel.

Today was crap.

Maths TA was hard. Minus 3 marks le.

Got Booked.

Lost 3/3 matches. Team that had me lost consistently, so sorry i guess.

Uncovered two more blisters on my feet when the previous one hadnt even healed. Whee.

Lost my waterbottle.

Oh, and I for some reason couldnt finish my dinner. I hate not finishing stuff.

Good stuff:

Goin Vietnam instead of India.
NTT school, dunno whats the full name.

Quite confirmed im an overpronator. Its a running term for basically, not having much of an arch on your feet. So i need to find shoes better suited i guess.

End of summary crap.

For some reason, today i just wasnt in a good mood. Well, I suddenly thought of the fact that I'm being too damn nice. Wtf, people keep asking me for favours, and complain when I don't want to help them out. And I don't like physical violence, which is why i try and avoid getting into conflicts. But sometimes I just break and get into a fight. I've shown better self-control as of the last 8 months or so. No fighting at all this year, but if people keep pissing me off, I'm afraid I'l like whack someone.

Poetry through the Ages is seriously....you guys should know.

I just cant stop myself from bleeding losing concentration. I come home, i will spore. I go play bball with friends (something I've been abstaining for quite long), will lose track of time.

Its all my fault.

In fact, at this time all i want to do is to walk along East Coast Park, enjoying the sea breeze, running a little. I want to come home, read American Gods, talk to friends and play some Spore without worrying about shit happening to me because i didnt spend time revising or drawing a Gundam.

Yes, thats right, we are supposed to bleeding design a gundam for Cartooning tomorrow. Wtf, A GUNDAM. Sure, I've got the theoreotical stuff the teacher told us, but my drawing so cmi how to bloody draw a GUNDAM? If i can, I would go make and sell bloody model kits already.

And suddenly tomorrow got English Makeup Class. What the heck. I've really got to direct whatever remains of my ACCALship passion to studying hard for EOYS.

I shouldn't talk so freely about it.

And page of the week...Bakuman.



Really funny and touching at the same time. It reminds me a lot of Ichigo 100%. OH DAMN, ICHIGO 100% JUST HAD TO END THAT WAY.

I can be pretty hurtful to people at times. So if I've offended any of you when trying to make a joke or something, I'm sorry. After all, I'm the biggest idiot there is.

Just finished reading the Hellgate London Trilogy Novels. They were based on the Hellgate London PC game, and boy, are they one of the best game-to-novel transitions ever. I'd rate them as high as the Halo novels. The ending was kinda unsatifying, due to quite a few plotlines not being concluded, but they are a REALLY gripping read.

On a side note.

SORRY SUF, IM STILL READING AMERICAN GODS. I'l pass it back to you after EOYS...just give me a week. Yes, I know i'm slow.

So, list of things to do after EOYS. Play Bball with friends, go out with friends, read American Gods, catch up on sleep, run more, Lanning, finish my 3rd amv which has been stagnating since the beginning of the year, write more DoT, and whatever I want to add. I'm afraid to say guitar, since I have poor determination and musical talents.

And lets see the Billboard Hot 100 again.

Lil' Wayne and T'Pain are bleeding DOMINATING. Which means there are quite little non-negro songs. Well, I'm not racist, but yeah...sometimes I don't feel like listening to rap and stuff.

I noticed that many people are putting baby pics for their msn d.p. Maybe I should put a photo of myself...heh. Cuz I'm like as cute as a baby.

Yeah, that was the worst paragraph ever.

There's just something about going and playing basketball at 9.30. I dunno, its just a kind of weird feeling.

Long story short, 2 indian guys came, and we played with them. We got owned.

Well, as usual, I was the weakest link.

I think it comes with standing at the sidelines for i dunno, 8 years? Since pri 1, i was never really good at ball games, so i always hung back and watched.

Got to change that. Got to run for the rebounds, run to block, open your eyes and predict stuff.

And with many team games, comes the lingering sense of dread that you let teammates down when you suck.

I'm not sitting and bitching about this crap though. There's one clear road to improving. Practice.

1st, im gonna work abit more on my dribbling. Crappy stuff.

At last there's one clear solution. Practice. A problem has finally emerged for the solution.

P.S. im not aiming to be some omgpwneveryone guy, just a sucky guy trying to become average.

Oh, and BenSee, I'l think about the standard chartered thing. And by the way, would you be interested in running the 21km half marathon? *stupid grin*

A sudden thought leapt into my head today.

"What if people don't want to hear about your skirmish with totally random indian dudes? What if they don't actually care about you becoming average standard in Basketball, because, previously you failed in ACCAL?"

Well, I've almost gotten over the ACCAL thing. Theres like the final 1% lying there, maybe it'l become a scar or something. I dunno.

Anyways, lets backtrack a little, and i can talk about something non-relating to Indian guys. I'm not being racist...

Going back to friday.

Me and Nicholas were talking about psychology, when he suddenly brought up counselling. We doubted each other's counselling skills, so we had a little competition.

It was like this.

Me: "I start first ah."
Nick: "Ok lor."

Begin.

Me: "So, why are you here today, Nicholas? How are you feeling?"
Nick gives some emo look.
Me: "Maybe it would help if you talked about the problem?"
Nick: "I don't wanna talk about it."
Me: "You'd better, course you're paying me 50 bucks an hour."

We got into an argument, me arguing that he had to say something and him that I was an asshole. Well, whether who won is not important...but basically we reached a consensus that the patient could say whatever he wanted.

Begin.

Nick: "So, why are you here today, Chen Wei?"
Me: "I don't know."
Nick: "Would you like me to console you?"
Me: "What, are you gay or something?"

We argued again. I stand firmly on the ground that we had already agreed that the patient could say anything, and him on the ground that i was an asshole again.

That night, I had some freaking creepy dream that can compare to suf's. I...dreamt that somehow I was engaged to this rather plump 39 year old woman. I managed to get out of the delicate situation by talking my way out.

When I woke up, I was seriously cold sweating. Damn scary.

Ok, I don't even know why im talking about this scary shit. And me talking about this stuff probably will result in people doubting my sexuality yet again. Yes, BenSee, I'm looking straight at you.

So, Ima just thought of something. I'm going to do this the ye oon style, since no one has ever come close to doubting his sexuality. Except weird indian worker, but that was SO anurak.

Hmm. Let me try an impression of him.

DMP today! So fun lor! I had digital filmmaking! We're going to learn how to use camera techniques next week!

Lol, so fun. And today, we say a couple smooching for 4 hours and more! Wa, someday maybe I will get a sweetie like that!

Ta dah! Pics!

I think its safe to say that my sexuality is safe....for the time being. Err, I meant that no one will bleeding doubt that I'm straight after using the ye oon style of blogging.

No offence ye oon, ur too manly.

And wtf, Standard Chartered registrations may be closed! Oh no! The marathon lah. Not....working under....someone...

Oh yeah, and DoT chap 9 is up. Dunno if anyone here still reads it, but it's become like a habit. So yeah, ima posting it up. Warning, 1st part is painfully lame.

Destiny of Tears, Chapter 9.

“Ready?”

“I’ve been ready for this since I watched Naruto!”

“Fine. You do know that this is the last time I’m helping you right?”

“Yes yes, just get it over with, Lana.”

“I implore you to reconsider. You look retarded enough already.”

“Nuh uh. I’m sure about this.”

There was a flash of a permanent black marker, as bold strokes swiped across Xenious’ right cheek. In a split-second, the black marker skidded across Xenious’ left cheek. It was out of control, sliding and slipping. Lana’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, sweat rolled down her forehead, got into her eyes and… It was done.

Xenious picked up a mirror and looked at himself. Excellent. He was now an exact replica of Naruto, having the marker drawn whiskers, the ridiculously orange jumpsuit, and of course the prized headband slung over his head in a rather fashionable way.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m a Naruto Dattebayo!”.

Lana cringed. Her husband was painfully childish and immature at times.

“Ok, now that we’re done with this crap, can we move on to talking about that boy? Laran was it?” She asked irritably.

“Ah, yes.” Xenious’ face no longer bore that look of sheer retardedness.

The atmosphere was noticeably tenser.

“He is definitely not normal. Whether it is for the better or the worse, I have no idea. Even for a Chosen, he is warped!” Lana quipped.

“I feel that there is something lurking inside him, other than Rejection and his own soul, there is an additional invader. I think Glen must have noticed this as well, that’s why he told me that he had given Laran the Scroll of Perseverance”

“Scroll of Perseverance?”

“Yes. It is used to test the person’s willpower, and to free them of their impurities. I don’t know the exact details, but it is said to…help the person face his or her inner demons.”

“So that scroll would help us find out what the problem with Laran is?”

“Indeed.”

“What do you intend to teach Laran next?”

Xenious paused, considering the question. The only thing that he truly specialized in was the manipulation of spirits. Other than that, he was considered rather useless.

“Nothing. The bird has to leave its nest.”
…………………………………………………………………………………………….....

Beep Beep.

Laran checked his cellphone, to find a message from Xenious telling him to stop leeching on his supplies and asking him to seek training elsewhere.

“…” Laran was unhappy with his harsh attitude.

“So. Why aren’t you wearing any proper armour for protection? You are a warrior right?” Clora quizzed Laran curiously.

“It restricts my movement, it’s uncomfortable, and most importantly, the only armour I can wear now looks fugly.” Laran stated in a matter-of-factly way.

“Hmm…” Clora scanned his level, resisting the urge to state that he was no Prince Charming himself. He was only about level 41, but he had great potential hidden within him, being able to defeat a weakened Tauromacis. All he needed was a good mentor, and of course proper equipment. She looked over at his weapon that he clutched tightly. She had never actually seen that sword before.

This boy was just full of surprises.

But then again, at level 43. she wasn’t exactly the best person to mentor him. She would just have to stick around with him and find out more…

“Hey big sis, why are you still using that Red Viper? Isn’t the Vaulter 2000 more powerful?” Laran inquired.

“Its none of your business!” she snapped.

Laran was clearly taken aback from her violent outburst. He quickly changed the topic.

“Errm, so where are we going to next?”

“A nearby cave. Right now we are at the edge of both Panon and Esuna. There’s something I need to pick up. In order to reach the cave, we’ll be progressing deeper into Esuna.”

She set off immediately, her back facing him. Laran grumbled something about her aloofness, before jogging to catch up with her.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Glen was hard at work, training aspiring warriors at the training range. As he taught them the basics of Power Strike, his mind wandered over to Laran.

The boy certainly had a couple of truly unique techniques. Half magician, half warrior, what WAS he? Could he possibly be of the mythical hybrid class? The conditions that were needed to be taken to become a hybrid were incredibly difficult to fufill, and achieving hybrid class meant that one would have to take huge risks.

“Oldie Glen! Oldie Glen!” a young apprentice, no more than 12 years old ran over to Glen, snapping him out of his daydream.

“Wait wait, who the heck are you calling Oldie Glen? 20 push-ups, now!” Glen’s ego was understandably bruised. He liked to cling on to the idea that he was still a fit, albeit slightly older man.

20 push-ups later, the apprentice was up, huffing and puffing. “Oldi-err, I mean Master Glen, Sitting Bull wants to meet you. It’s concerning Operation Revival.”

Glen grabbed his swords immediately, hastily making his way to Sitting Bull’s hut.

“So, it has begun…” Glen thought, a mixture of excitement and dread flooding him. He raised an arm to open the flaps, and saw Sitting Bull meditating, deep in concentration.

Sitting Bull’s appearance could be described using just one word. Hulking. He dwarfed many, and with his impressive physique, he exuded a powerful aura. Indian markings covered his body, and his messy jet black hair was sprawled over his back.

“So,” Sitting Bull spoke as Glen entered. “I have managed to secure the services of Manji; that warrior that enjoys hanging around in the outskirts of Panon. He will be a great help in Operation Revival.”

“Can you guarantee his allegiance to us?” Glen remembered Manji as a shifty-eyed combat veteran. He had the stealthy aura of a rogue, and a pensive melancholic attitude towards life. Manji treated everyone with aloofness, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Glen had felt bad vibes coming from him.

“Trust needs to be earned Glen. Now, let us commence Operation Revival in 2 hours, when the sun sets. The next time it rises, the purging will have been complete. Panon will be no more.” Sitting Bull spoke confidently, pride and determination radiating from him. The tension was palpable.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Laran was blind. The pitch black darkness was eerie, as images of monsters and imaginary enemies flashed in his mind, tormenting him. Stirges screamed, as they swarmed overhead, throwing Laran into a jittery mood. Clora had rushed ahead, leaving him alone and defenseless.

Laran felt the ever growing urge to flee surface again in his mind. It was hard to admit it, but he was scared. Pushing away the thoughts of failure and feelings of despair, Laran calmly sat down, brainstorming of solutions to the lighting problem.

“Eureka!” Laran voiced out loud. The phrase was coined by the alchemist Eurek when he discovered how to use upgrade cores on items that weren’t being equipped. Personally, he didn’t give a damn about the discovery, but boy did he like the phrase.

Laran concentrated his arcane energies, trying to produce the lightning spear again. He could visualize it in his mind, but when he tried to make it materialize, the image would slip out of his grasp, frustrating him immensely. It was pointless to continue, so Laran compromised. He formed a crackling ball of electricity by clenching his left fist, which helped to light up the cave to a small extent.

It seemed that he could only wield the lightning spear when he had enough mastery of his arcane energy, something that emerged during a life and death scenario. Laran sighed. He certainly did not enjoy putting his life on the line to achieve greater power.

Clora had said that the lightning energy was imbued within him, that it was possible to convert normal arcane energy into that lightning energy. But how did he even gain that ability? Only Ice/Lightning Mages were able to accomplish such a feat.

Light emanated from the electricity, as Laran progressed through the cave. He was making good progress, when he stopped abruptly, taken aback by what lay in front of him.

The cave had spread out to form a huge grey dome. Its diameter was about 400 metres, a quarter of a mile wide, with stalagmites and stalactites protruding in various places, made out of solid rock. There was a small lake in the middle of the dome, gracefully sparkling, as if happy to be the icing of the cake, the part that beautified the dome. It was a magnificent example of natural structures.

Laran took a step, admiring nature in its entire splendor when…he saw it. That big ugly grey spiral shaped structure suspended high above the ground. It was a massive stirge hive. The sign of it sent a resounding message echoing through Laran’s mind “Mind your own business.” Laran slowly maneuvered himself around the hive, spotting an additional tunnel behind the hive that no doubt led deeper into the cave.

“This’ll be an excellent test for my new babies…yeah yeah.” A mysterious voice giggled.

Laran twisted around, to see a slender figure crouching near him, inspecting a kumbi throwing star. His heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t noticed her presence at all.

“Yeah yeah! Adamatium Advarice…check. Synchronization…check. Haste...” she seemed to be going through a list.

“You want haste too yeah yeah? Taking on the hive’ll be pretty difficult.”

Laran felt his physical weight decrease exponentially, while simultaneously, felt his heart plummet, as his amazingly slow mind realized what she was going to do. It was a unique feeling.

Before he could protest, the feisty girl sprinted towards the hive, something that could very possibly be the thing that would kill them.

Laran looked down, and sighed. He gripped onto Rejection, taking long strides towards the hive. He sure as hell didn’t want to die alone.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Lucky Seven! Lucky Seven!” that strong yet feminine voice rang out, as four kumbis glided through the air elegantly, before ripping apart four stirges.

“Tempest…Hurricane!” Laran unleashed the pent-up arcane energy, letting it explode into whips of fierce wind, which cut deeply into many stirges.

He took a breath of air. Although it was still difficult to use Tempest Hurricane, his stamina had increased over the last few grueling days to allow him to utilize it several times.

“Synchronization!” Laran activated Rejection’s hidden prowess, transforming it into the sleek one-handed sword. With Haste and Synchronization, Laran felt as if he were floating on air.

“Terran!” His eyes flashed, as they swirled to form the demonic Terran Eyes. A familiar feeling of security came back to him, as he grinned in spite of the situation he was in.

The stirges rushed at him, forming an arrowhead formation, their shrill voices squealing what seemed to be death threats.

Laran’s mind worked nimbly, as a plan popped out of a deep crevice in his mind. The plan was unique, challenging, and for once, made sense. Just what the doctor ordered.

Working quickly, Laran ran in the opposite direction, away from the stirges. He tensed himself and kicked off from the ground, his inertia propelling his body towards the wall.

He grunted slightly, as he twisted his body such that his legs were facing the wall. With much needed concentration, he managed to cushion the blow to his legs by bending down just as he made contact.

Time to make it or break it, Laran thought.

“Right foot, anchor!” Laran grunted, as electrical arcane energy burst from his right foot, biting into the wall, making deep indentations. The arcane energy was helping him “stick” to the wall! His head slightly spinning, he steadied himself, just as the approaching stirges grew ever larger in his line of vision.

Adrenaline pumping from the acrobatic stunt he accomplished, Laran took a fresh two-handed grip on Rejection, preparing to unleash hell on the stirges. He smirked at them, knowing that they would be flying towards their deaths.

“He’s good yeah yeah!” The female assassin quipped enthusiastically, as she narrowly dodged a particularly large stirge. With a flick of her wrist, a kumbi soared through the air, fluidly decapitating the stirge.

“Looks like I can’t be lazy yeah yeah!” Her face instantly warped from a relaxed expression to a solemn one. Digging deep into both of her shuriken pouches, her fists reappeared, effortlessly clutching onto 4 kumbis in each hand.

“Lucky Seven!” her voice rang out as eight kumbis swiftly brought death upon eight stirges. A cheeky grin formed on her face. She was just warming up.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

The villagers, huddled together at the base of the capital of Panon, had their eyes fixated on the three warriors making their way towards the home of their king, Soitoru.

There were rocky flights of stairs everywhere, leading to the higher levels and vice versa. It was like being in a huge maze. Cliffs and mountains stretched out proudly towards the skies, and from a bird’s eye view, the entire region looked like a mass of brown and orange.

Soitoru had decreed that no one were to disturb him. Only he communicated with the peasants, not they with him. There was absolutely no way of getting in contact with him short of smashing down his front door. And these three looked like they were just about to do that. The bodyguards of Soitoru remained vigilant, and did what they did best, standing around and looking badass.

“Listen up. Here’s the plan.” Sitting Bull gave commands with an air of confidence.

“Glen, you stay and make sure the crowd doesn’t interfere. Me and Manji will handle everything.” He grinned proudly, as if the plan was a very intellectual one.

“What the heck, why do I have such a minor role!?” Glen made no effort to mask his discontent. “Let me fight too!”

“Fine, come with us. But don’t get in my way.” Manji had spoken for the first time; his voice was raspy and rough, sounding as if he had a sore throat.

Dances with Balrog and Glen stared at him, aghast. It was extremely rare to hear Manji engage in conversation.

The mass of bodyguards flexed their muscles and looked at him menancingly. They were more brawn than brains, and served as cannon fodder, looking more like overgrown pigs with their piercings and weird hairstyles rather than professionals. They must have been mercenaries, those who had thrown away their morality for cold hard cash.

Manji sauntered towards them, enjoying his leisurely stroll. Glen thought that he could see a tiny smirk hidden under the dark shadow of the bamboo hat.

Thoroughly concerned with the odds, Glen took a step forward, only to see Sitting Bull blocking his path.

“Don’t interfere. Manji is the strongest lone wolf out there.” Sitting Bull glanced at Manji, who was striding towards the enemies at a painfully slow pace. “Give him 10 seconds.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

His arms were aching faster than he had expected it to. Laran ignored the growing pain as he continued the barrage of lightning quick slashes against the persistent stirges, many of whom joined their fallen brethren in death in a matter of seconds. Wincing as the wounds from his previous battle threatened to reopen themselves, Laran continued his flurry of attacks.

“Sticking” to the wall, Laran managed to reduce the possibility of being flanked by the stirges. And now, he was engaged in a stamina war with the stirges, who stormed towards him, only to be brought down with Rejection. His Terran Eyes working at peak condition, Laran was rapidly releasing slashes to act as a barrier against the stirges, slicing them into pieces of flesh as they came into range.

Laran felt his control over his stamina pool start to slip from him. No wonder, as he had just recovered from a serious duel to the death with a Tauromacis. The fact that he was able to fight freely was already a huge surprise. As soon as that thought had popped up, he suddenly felt a jabbing pain in his right foot. He instinctively knelt down, to minimize the searing pain.

Yet, with every passing second of this new technique, Laran felt that he was getting mighty close to understanding, mastering something, a new technique, or a concept.

His Terran eyes alerted him that the stirges’ were not letting up on their relentless offense.

Clenching his teeth tightly, Laran fluidly withdrew the arcane energy from his feet, instantly slipping as he lost his grip on the slippery cavern wall.

Somehow, through pure luck, he managed not to fall face down on his face. He squatted to reduce the impact, as he took a new stance, feet shoulder apart and his right leg pointing 45 degrees north-east. Channeling his lightning energy towards his arms, he felt a curious, tingling sensation.

Laran raised Rejection right as the stirges screeched wildly, their fangs barely half a metre from him.

“Tempest…Flurry!” He reinitiated the barrage of defensive slashes. This time, however, Rejection felt strangely lighter, allowing for better sword control. “It must’ve been the lightning arcane energy.” Laran pondered.

His thoughts were interrupted as the stirges suddenly pulled back, arcing away from him…diving straight for the female assassin.

Laran exploded into a sprint towards her, as his instincts to protect emerged. His body groaned in protest, as exhaustion constantly weighed down on him, but he easily dismissed those thoughts.

“I’m going to directly attack the hive yeah yeah! The moment you see an opening, go in and unleash all you’ve got!” She yelled, while backflipping and spearing another dozen stirges headed for her.

She seemed to take a little longer re-equipping her kumbis, and when she flung them towards the hive, they arced out of the way of stirges, before embedding themselves firmly onto the base of the hive with a resounding “thud”.

Laran almost stopped in his tracks, a few body lengths away from the hive. He frowned. How would such an attack give him an opening to destroy the hive? He was pondering the idea of rushing over and helping her rather than attacking the hive, when his eyes were suddenly assaulted by a “BOOM”, as the base of the hive disintegrated in a flash of jarring heat and blinding light.

Explosives on the shuriken! The girl had some wild ideas. Laran leapt up into the hive, and as he always did, constructed a brutal, reckless last minute plan. This plan was suicidal. Just what a strategist would condemn.

“Tempest…” Laran’s momentum forced him into the hive. He saw the dozens and dozens of stirges all swarming inside. A pang of fear stroked his heart, but he shoved that fear away.

“Hurricane!” It was a no holds barred attack. His arcane energy whipped out from Rejection, slicing and decapitating stirges, as the entire hive was cut to shreds.

Laran landed gracefully onto his feet, amidst the corpses of stirges. “Boy,” he thought. “That was bleeding awesome!”

Meanwhile, the female assassin was finishing up, lobbing off limbs left and right with her kumbis. With a final heave of stars, 5 more stirges dropped onto the ground, unmoving. She too landed elegantly, inspecting her stars and equipment.

“So, who the heck are you?” Laran went straight to the point. His first impression of a girl that randomly attacked a stirge’s hive was either extremely rash or braindead. She could very well possess both traits.

“JM’s cousin. Call me.” She giggled as she cast Dark Sight, evoking a smokescreen and disappearing from sight, leaving a piece of paper fluttering to the ground.

Picking up the paper, Laran sighed. He didn’t want to waste any more time trying to probe into her background. A childish grin formed as he keyed in her name as “Brat” in his cellphone. “Ahh, the wonders of immaturity.” He thought.

“Oh!” he couldn’t help yelping out. He still had to find Clora! Feeling the energy of his fallen foes surge into him as experience points, he hurriedly made his way into the next tunnel.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

“It’s hideous!” Clora thought, hastily leaping out of the way of the gigantic, mutated Wolf Spider.

It didn’t even look like a Wolf Spider. Half cybernetic, half organic, it was a cyborg. The bastard had ambushed her, and it was only thanks to her high dexterity that she was able to pick out its presence. It must’ve been THEM who experimented on the poor creature.

Breaking into a forward roll that carried her momentum, she knelt down on one leg. She whipped out her red viper, and with a resounding cry; “Double Shot!”

A pair of arrows sped towards their target, only to be swiped into pieces by the Wolf Spider’s razor sharp legs. She scowled. She wasn't expecting an easy fight, but this would be a troublesome.

She drew another arrow, and speedily nocked it into the bow.

“Let’s see how you defend against this…” she mumbled, lost in her own thoughts. Arcane energy surged into the arrow, giving it a glowing red appearance that just screamed of danger.

“Arrow…Bomb!” Clora released the tension of the bowstring, adding a slight spin to the arrow to increase overall velocity.

The Wolf Spider lazily held up a leg, just as an almost invisible barrier appeared in front of it.

When Clora saw the Power Guard, it was already too late.
…………………………………………………………………………………………….....

“Damn!” Laran’s left arm jerked involuntarily as his body suddenly suffered a static shock. He was trying to re-summon the electrical ball to aid his vision. It seemed that there was a cooldown period to materializing his arcane energy. In fact, he thought that he had already broken the physical limiters placed on his body from the previous fight.

He squinted at his surroundings. The tunnel seemed to lead to yet another dome. He heard a battle cry; a faint “Arrow Bomb!” Rushing forward, he was fairly sure Clora was locked in battle. Filled with excitement, he entered the dome, only to be chilled to the bone.

She lay crumpled in a heap. There was an enormous creature sauntering over to it in whatever way a spider could saunter. She seemed to have been knocked unconscious, a trickle of blood ran down the edge of her mouth. The stench of smoke from an arrow bomb permeated the air, prompting Laran to wrinkle his nose slighty.

“Shit!” Laran broke into a run. He shouted at the spider, trying to attract its attention, but it was to no avail, as it started wrapping up Clora in its web. It juggled her with the skill of a master entertainer, speedily compressing and squeezing her with its webs.

He had no choice. If the web was too tightly wound, Clora would die from the deprivation of oxygen. The spider was already half completed with its gruesome work of art, spinning her from one leg to another.

“Tempest Slash!” an electric blue current of arcane energy lashed out towards the Wolf Spider. Almost simultaneously, Laran heard a familiar “Lucky Seven!” chirping enthusiastically behind him, as eight throwing stars flew with amazing accuracy, locking onto the Wolf Spider. The same girl from earlier on was back!

“Brat!” Laran spun around, genuinely glad to see her. Taking on the Wolf Spider wouldn’t be an easy task, and he could use all the backup he could get.

“Who’re you calling brat! My name is…” She kicked Laran in the face as she landed.

“Allegra!” she flashed her innocent smile at Laran, as he rubbed his sore nose.

“Boy, she sure has a showy way of introducing herself…” he grumbled. Her cheerfulness in such a situation was painfully inappropriate.

The Wolf Spider cried out, as the blunt force of the two attacks slammed into it. Two stars pierced a couple of its eyes, while the Tempest Slash cleanly sliced off a limb that was getting too friendly with Clora, promptly sending a fountain of blood spurting out. It screamed in pain, the high frequency cry cutting through air like a knife through butter. Filled with rage, it dropped the unconscious Clora and twisted to face its aggressors, its other eyes actually glowing.

“Tag team?” Laran glanced at Allegra.

“You’ve got it yeah yeah!” She serenaded slightly in a sing-songish voice.

Laran sighed. Working with her would be a whole new experience. For the better or worse, he had no idea.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Limit Break.” Manji whispered solemnly, lowering his blood stained sword.

The smoke cleared, leaving a pile of fresh corpses scattered all over the dusty red plateau of Panon.

“What the…How the heck did he…” Glen was completely aghast. His hand trembled uncontrollably, unable to contain his shock and awe. If Manji turned against them…he could very possibly single-handedly slaughter the whole of Panon, with the exception of Sitting Bull.

“That's why…they call him Demon Blade Manji.” Sitting Bull grimaced ruefully, as he viewed the horrific sight.

“A warrior with such bloodlust and battle fervor that even his own allies feared him. Such is the tale of Demon Blade Manji.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Fire arrow.” He released the pulsing hot arrow, as it impaled a charging Taurospear right in its heart, searing a deep hole through its chest. It grasped at the hole desperately, before crashing onto the floor next to its dead brethren.

“Coma.” He spoke with authority, as Acquiescence split the Tauromacis’ head into two, rendering it a gory corpse almost immediately.

“And you are the unluckiest.” A sadistic grin formed over his lips.

“Combo attack. Release!” He pointed Acquiescence at a group of Tauros, who were backed up against the wall, frozen in fear, as the blinding white light exploded into an attack that engulfed them.

He strolled out of the Sanctuary. It was a good workout.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….....

Couple of updates.

I finally dled and played Gunz. And its boring. Really boring. I dunno, its just...boring.

Graphics are painfully last gen, controls are clunky, and well...i just don't like the feel. Maybe its just me.

And I stumbled upon this forum at crunchyroll.com i believe.

Quote.

Forum topic: DO YOU LIKE Allen Walker's crowned clown?

of course !! it make him more handsome and cute

Ahh, this kind of responses for 30 pages. But then again, its probably just me.

Digital Filmmaking is damn pro. Its not just me.

Voting/ Poll thing will go up when I feel like it, suf. Still contemplating about the pure fanboyness of it though.

And damnit, wtf, my parents offed my comp when i was torrenting. Its damn difficult to torrent quickly when the file is less popular, and nowz the torrent is slowing down! Damnit.

Well, i've succeeded in getting myself to exercise. A little is fine.

Ran yesterday. Not much, probably just 3km plus.

Managed to convince myself to do pullups in the last 2 days. Still weak though.

Ahh yeah, had an interesting convo with suf last night. Involves some severe otaku stuff. And suf gave me the go-ahead, but even i think that's too freaking despo to put. Maybe I'l put the voting thing on when im really high, after the exams.

Digital Filmmaking is cool, but why the heck must we film it in school? Sian lah, filming in school squashes my creativity.

Cartooning was pretty cool.

Everything's gone to hell. Banks are falling like cards in the wind, disasters are happening, and least importantly, my whole DMP schedule is falling apart.

I've got EL remedial tmr which i've got to pon because of my cartooning course.

SS remedial on Weds, which i'm thinking of ponning.

Lit remedial on thurs, which i'm going to pon for Digital Film Making.

Chem remedial on Fri which got cancelled. Chem remedial was the only one i actually wanted to go for argh.

Well, today's DMP was...

Narrative techniques in animated films: I smiled happily at the funny vidoe clips.

Financial Literacy: I smiled stupidly as I didn't exactly know how to work the damned financial calculator. Theory is fun, but practical, A.K.A. punching in stuff in calculator is boring.

Poetry Through the Ages: I smiled immaturely as the RA lit guys got suanned. Badly. Whee.

Wait, lemme ransack my RI folder for outdated pics...



See my shoes get owned.



Nicholas is crazy manly to eat this crap.

Sadly thats all, since I don't camwhore enough. C'mon, I attempted like 1 camwhore and got flamed and slammed repeatedly. Hmm, how DOES ye oon do it?

To clarify this crap, im straight. Not bisexual, not gay, straight. Nuh uh, not lesbian either (dunno how a guy is sppsed to be les).

How do you judge a man's intelligence? School results? Street smarts?

Well, there's one thing thats universal that indicates stupidity.

At royal sporting house, my dad was checking out some sport shirts or whatever, and i was just stoning around, looking at the expensive bballs, the poser bags and whatever. And so I sifted through the clothing part. Ya know when they have sales, they kinda toss everything into the holder thing? The one with the metal edges? And so, i was just sifting through.

And suddenly, I saw something. It wasnt a shirt! Neither was it short running shorts! My mind immediately jumped to the various possibilites, was it a new cutting edge technology designed for cutting down air resistance with a streamline body shape!?!!?

And so, after viewing the shape, and flipping it around such that i could uncover any secret components, i inspected it carefully.

And then, my sis walked over to me and asked "Why are you holding up a skirt?"

I froze. Literally. Then cue the laughing at me for the whole day argh. This just proves one thing. I'm not at all familiar with skirts.

Well, this is the time to put a sad smiley. Go ahead.

See ya guys.

Ccw

Guy who isnt familiar with skirts.

Changed skin. Just highlight the text in the tagboard to see haha.

Damn rain. Because its raining so much, I cant go run. And i wanted to increase my running distance to 8km.

I mean, i like rain, but hopefully you could rain...in the night for awhile and just nice road dry before 8 a.m., so i can go run. Lol, I'm too picky.

After listening to songs from David Archuleta and David Cook, I feel that Archuleta should've won. His single Crush totally owns David Cook's Time Of My Life.

Oh yeah, and the Billboard 100 list is totally being dominated by Negro music lol.

Whoosh, exams are coming right up. The next few weeks of DMP will be crucial to the mugging.

Yeah, and yesterday my sis went to download wo de nan peng you. And she kept bleeding looping the song and singing along with the falsetto part. Needless to say, my mood was spoilt.

And I've resorted to playing some Maplestory to recon some info for my fanfiction. The game isn't so bad now that all the eight year olds have gotten extinct.

And my career options have been narrowed down.

No way can I pursue sciences, because my sciences sukkkk. But see how first.

I may become a part time consellor. Since im 24/7 counselling myself.

Oh yeah, and im going to update more about my personal info in the template. Its quite screwed up. See ya.

Sometimes, when life deals you a heavy blow, you just have to keep on living. Ignore all things and surge ahead. Never stop. Glance towards the past, but keep your eyes firmly focused in what's in front.

Your heart may hurt, your legs may ache, your eyes may tear, but you must never give up. Your stamina may be drained, you may feel like its the end of the world, you may just want to lie down and never get up again.

But we all need to heal. Forget yesterday, stand up tall on your feet. Dare yourself to move.

Quiz time. From Mike. I couldnt resist asking him, and he sent me, so now, I KNOW THE TRUTH. And well, I'm kinda tired of revealing personal preferences, tagging others to do and them not revealing personal preferences, so ima playing it safe. Until I don't feel like it anymore lol.

1. Dunno.

2. Probably my parents

3. Ahh. Would be JF.

4. Sorry, but im my own man.

5. Ahh, John Choo Rong Hui, this is SO you.

6. Me. HAHAHAHAHA

7. Err. Ivan. From the sec 1, soon to be 2 squad.

8. No way.

9. Friend of a friend that I lost contact with.

10. No answer.

11. Well, as long as i can get a proper convo going, anyone!

12. Ahh, Nic.

13. Should be Wyz.

14. No one. I'll shape my own path.

15. Lol, Sufyan, i'll be rofling with your Lavi impressions.

16. Hmm, I've never really thought about that. Haozhi?

17. Nicholas Low. I mean c'mon, K2- now. Although he IS in HCI.

18. Meizi hehe.

19. Would either be JF or John.

20. This is kinda personal to me, so nuh uh.

21. Ahh. No idea.

22. What the...no. No comment.

23. Whoo edene. Err, of course the latter.

24. My grandma?

25. Jon Ed. No offense.

26. Me. lol.

27. Err. Anurak?

28. Kyoya Hibari. Oh wait, this isnt a Reborn quiz. In that case, no one.

29. My own reflection. Yeah yeah!

30. Ask me for teh questions. Or ask Michael and bother him lol.

Heh, I've learnt the rough idea of the errm one handed striking thing to get the basketball up with one hand. Thanks JF and Chestyan. =)

Onto darker issues.

I was really disappointed with how our NPCC juniors (Sec 1 and 2) behaved during the Inter-UG half marathon. I'm going to have a talk with them when I have the chance. I'm certainly not the only person feeling this way.

Great job for everyone who ran. Its not really about who won, but about each UG cheering each other on. I'm definitely running next year as a Sec 4 haha.

I need to learn how to let go. Let go of my grudges, my hidden anger, because it is slowly consuming me.

Not that my hatred isnt rational of course.

Example.

Guy bosses me around because he elected himself as leader. Ask me to do a shitload of work so he can slack. I refuse. He fucking calls my mum using my home telephone number and tells her that "Oh, Chen Wei is very uncooperative and it is difficult to get him to contribute to the group and finish the project." Fuck. You.

He is one of the main contributing factors to why I put on a mask in the first place. Poser Shit.

But I still need to get over it. Slowly but surely, I will pull the bullets out of me.

Im definitely not gay. Post of the day.

Thanks for the comments guys. Man, I would've made the ending better, but I was doing it at like midnight, was tired and had school tmr or something.

Anyways, today was the Passing Out Parade, for the Sec 4s. We're taking over now. A part of me is still unsure of whether I can handle the Sec 2s next year. I mean, being an NCO wasn't even in my plan. I didn't really spend time thinking about what I was going to do, but I guess that i've got to.

Maths TA was wtf man, wtf. I can only hope that I can pass.

SS proj is due on like Weds i think. Have to finish the video. Darn it, I still need the audio...May have to do it without the audio i want.

Good gosh Nigel, you cant expect me to make a video at 11 p.m...or maybe you do.

Damn Maths TA. Dunno when it is.

Since I'm such an egoistic freak, no posting until someone reviews my renaissance piece. Hmmph! Boy do i sound like a whiny girl.

My piece for the Renaissance Competition.

I'm pretty proud of it. It may not be the best essay, or even a good essay, but i'm proud of it! Enjoy.

Remember.

Do you remember? I sure do.

I remember the life I lived without you, filled with loneliness, sadness, and fear. Fear that my life would fade to black, would dissipate into the wind, would disappear like the whispers of the wind on a windy day. Fear that it would happen before I met you.

I was always searching for you. I tried meeting up with you many times, at bus stops, at the train station, at shopping centres. And finally, on that fateful day, I found you.

Do you remember? How we met? I sure do.

Another day, another fragment of my soul, crushed in the ever increasing weight that was my heart. It bore down on me, threatening to shatter itself into tiny shards, never to be repaired again. On that day, I found salvation.

After my previous attempts to find you, I was at an all-time low. Standing in the midst of people in the bus stop, I was alone, a lone wolf against the world, straining against the weight of my hopes, my dreams, struggling not to fall. I desperately needed to see you.

On the bus, we were separated by nothing more than a metre of space. It was pure chance, that our eyes met, and as I searched within your deep hazel coloured eyes, I saw my happiness sitting inside, beckoning me from within.

However, I could sense that sense of apprehension, panic resounding deep within your soul. Seeing the cause of it, I marched over immediately. Nothing would stand in my way.

The root of your problems, a loathsome old man drooling over your perfection. No way would he have his hands on you. Before I could even consider what I was doing, I slapped his dirty, impure hands away. From the moment I saw you, I already knew that you were my past, my present, my future. You would become my body, my mind, my love. I love you.

I remember that day as if it were yesterday, I close my eyes and I’m right there, right where I want to be. Standing right next to you.

That smile on your face, a relieved, genuinely grateful smile saturated with your innocent, pure happiness. It radiated happiness, sincerity, warmth that strummed my heartstrings and stretched them.

“Ccc…can I have your number?”
A bluttering idiot I had become, in the face of your spectacular beauty, your sparkling eyes revealing themselves as windows to your soul.

You agreed, sending one of the most exhilarating rushes of euphoria through my skin. It was nothing like I ever felt before, it was the first time that I had spent truly living. I can only live when I’m with you. Because I love you.

Do you remember? The book that we wrote together, the chapters that we filled in with passionate, gleeful love? I sure do.

The pages were filled up not with words, but with vibrant, stunning, striking imagery stretched across the chapters. No amount of words in the world could express my joy at us being together, no amount of gifts in the world that could be offered to you could properly present me to you, and the biggest canvas ever made would not be enough to express my love for you. Even bold strokes of art could not convey my love, much less the honey-sweet phrases that flowed from my clumsy, unsmooth mouth in an attempt to impress you.

Do you remember? The days we spent at each other’s side, in each other’s arms? I sure do.

The times we spent frolicking in the beach’s surf, the memories we had of the blazingly beautiful sunset, the experience of holding each other long until darkness had set, and all we could feel was the warmth of hot breaths down each other’s necks.

I held you in my arms, ever so lovingly, for you were so sweet and fragile that you could break without my care. I never wanted to leave you. I wanted you to be mine, and mine only. You promised me that we would be together forever, and that night I was happy. Happy that our love would last for all eternity, that you would never forget me, as I would definitely never forget you. My one true love, how I love you so.

Do you remember? That fateful moment, when you announced the news that would tear us apart? I definitely do.

Hot tears rolled off your shining hazel eyes, as I locked my gaze with yours and asked you what was going on. This time, I could sense something wrong, my happiness was rapidly disappearing, and I, in an utterly devastated state grasped at it as a blind man would grasp at the chance to obtain sight. Without you, I would become blind once again, blind to the blindingly beautiful face of life, desensitized to the suffering in the world, as all I needed was you, to become a fool, my only goal in life was to love you, and hopefully, you would love me too.

I shook your shoulders, rampant fear surfacing in me, something that had only happened when I was apart from you. You told me, its not you, its me. I can't feel for you anymore. We’re not meant to be together.

The shock was like a blade through my heart, my dreams, future, hopes, all pierced by cruel, uncaring fate. Your ex boyfriend had came back. The very thing that has brought us together is ripping our bonds apart.

With a swish of your silky dark hair, you were gone, leaving your tears on the ground in a glittering wake. The weight on my heart, unheard of for the last two years, leapt out, ready to consume me. I could no longer compress it, my outbreak of fear was like a virulent disease, rapidly manifesting itself in my body, lashing out in black tongues of the forbidden, corroding my mind with ideas to fufill my sinful desire. I was an emotional wreck. I needed to do something, something to make you return, to get rid of anything standing in our way. I wanted you happy, and I knew that you would be happier with me.

Do you remember? How I tried to get you to return. I don’t, but I sincerely hope that you do.

The wind caressed me gently, whispering into my ears. An occasional “Don’t do it!” would surface, only to be suppressed instantly by my unshakeable resolve. This was the best way I could get you back, to make you remember those days of yonder, when nothing existed, except our mutual love, which occupied every single moment of our lives. I would survive, love is the greatest force in the world.

And with my back beating against the wind, I jumped. A three storey fall was nothing compared to regaining your love. The road in front of me was clear, just as the literal one in front was devoid of traffic. You would nurse me back to health, and would be free of that man, that corruption that would dare to threaten our love.

Time seemed to crawl to a standstill, as I floated down slowly. Far away, I noticed a Ferrari, speeding way over the limit. With a sudden jolt in my heart, I realized that I would be hit just as I smashed into the ground. Time sped up. Electricity coursed through my arms as I flailed them desperately, trying to change my course of direction, my journey, my fate.

I heard a sickening “Crunch!”, immediately followed by a sudden vibration from the impact, passing through me ravenously like electricity through water. Before I could feel anything, the Ferrari rammed right into me. As my limp, unfeeling body was flung in the air, I blinked into darkness.

At least you would remember me.

I sure remember you.

I aint gonna watch Wall.E

Nuh uh. No way. If a really hot girl goes with me, still no. Nope. Nada.

Heh, Suf is eating his own words about Ouran High School Host Club. C'mon if he's hani then I'm Tamaki, King!

Darn it, my haircut stinks as well. Looks kinda square. Argh, maybe should change the place i cut.

My blisters are starting to heal yeah yeah!

I need a break. Nope, not Sept hols, I need a REAL break.

Ahh TV serial dramas. You either love it, hate it, or are neutral about it (something that applies to everything in the world).

Well, every, and i do mean every TV serial drama has couple of love stories interwined into it for good measure. And boy do they appeal to their audience.

When watching a particularly lovey scene with my sister and mother, i commented, "Boy that girl sure looks different with makeup."

Five seconds later.

Mum: "What?"

Me: "I said, she looks different with makeup."

Five seconds later.

Me: "...Ok, I'm going to continue eating dinner."

Yeah yeah, i do enjoy watching those lovery scenes because it gives me a fuzzy feeling inside.

Oh no, my more feminine hormones are taking over my body again. Nooooo.

And this marks an end to a week of S11, Basketball, and err other stuff. So yeah, posting away!

Oh oh, i just thought of something to do. Since you guys say that you no time to read DoT, il just make this post into some wtfpwnage post with all the chapters! Such a long post will give me a reason to not update for awhile! Sorry for spamming, but i do enjoy writing ever so much heh.

Prologue:

She was coated in light.

“Do not fear, young one. The journey you will undertake is perilous, but you are one of the Chosen.”

“Travel to the uncharted, accomplish the impossible. But beware. Things aren’t what they seem.”

“What do you mean!” he cried.

“You were once a fierce warrior. Regain that tenacity. I will set you on your way.”

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Goodbye.” She whispered.

What was that? He wondered.

Then, he blacked out.

Chapter 1

“Hey Laran! Keep your eyes on the prize!” someone roared.

His vision was blurred, and he was in a daze. “Where am I…” he groggily wondered.

“Who am I?” he thought silently.

“Laran! Move, now!” the same person shouted.

That's right. He remembered. His name was Laran. He also noticed that he was wielding a two handed blade. It was sleek and powerful, with just the right weight, a balance of speed and power. The hilt was jet-black sporting a design of a skull, and the blade was emerald green. It was sharpened to near perfection, and felt cold to the touch.

Then, something slammed into his stomach, blowing him off his feet. His head slammed full-force onto the floor. The pain was immense. He cringed, as his vision blurred at the edges. Blissful darkness came…

The sky was clear, with the warm sunlight shining brightly. Laran stirred, opening his eyes. He struggled to his feet. Other than his name, he didn’t know anything else about himself. Did I have amnesia? Suddenly, his mind convulsed with pain. Dropping to the floor, he just lay there, paralyzed by the immense pain.

Just then, something blocked the sunlight. Laran managed to look up. It was an old man. He was nearly bald, with a few miserable white hairs stubbornly hanging onto his scalp.

“Get up!” he grunted grumpily, before pulling Laran to his feet. Laran stumbled about clumsily, before gaining his balance. Where was he?

“I found you lying on the roadside like a fool. Don’t you know that sleeping on roadsides makes you an easy target for rogues?” he sneered at Laran.

Laran ignored him, instead analyzing his surroundings. He appeared to be inside a forest, and he could hear the cries of wild beasts nearby.

“Damn bowmen must be training again. Us warriors, we take’em down so fast that they don’t even have time to cry! My students are especially the best, cream of the crop!” the old man said proudly.

That immediately piqued Laran’s interest. That sword he had been wielding. Only warriors could wield a two-handed sword. Other classes wouldn’t have been able to use it effectively.

“Take me to the warrior training ground.” Laran spoke calmly.

The old man’s eyes immediately shone. “You mean you want to be a warrior? Come with me then!” he exclaimed.

Laran nodded. He only remembered that he used to be a warrior, and that he and someone were fighting a monster. A monster so hideous that its image had burned deeply into his mind.

Chapter 2

In no time, they were on their way.

“Really? Amnesia eh? Well, at least that's better than falling out of a freaking Martian spaceship.” The old man who had introduced himself as Glen chuckled.

“Well, Earth is divided into different regions. There’s no need to swim though, they’re all connected by land. The forest you were in just now is known as Esuna. The land that we are going to is known as Panon, the land of the warriors. It isn’t just limited to warriors though, anyone can go to any of the places.”

“There is the God Kingsley watching over the land. By his sides, he has Pura, the goddess of light and Dura, the goddess of darkness. There are also many minor gods that grant people various powers. The people respect and pray to them. Its like a religion.”

“There are 5 classes, the rogue, the warrior, the archer, the wizard and the healer.. I’l just tell you the specifics of a warrior. They can either wield a two-handed sword or two one-handed swords. Shields are for wussies!” he exclaimed, beating his chest like a gorilla. Laran rolled his eyes in contempt. The man sure lacked brains.

“Everyone has a certain amount or arcane energy. Pretty cool, huh! If only I knew how to harness mine…Then I could be the most powerful guy ever!” he chuckled to himself.

Once they were at the warrior training range, Laran analysed his surroundings. They were in a desert area, with a clear increase of temperature from Esuna. There were many huts and houses again, and there were loads of people training with each other. Clang! Clang! A nearby blacksmith hammered the red-hot blade. The blade hissed, and with every strike, it got stronger. Glen waved at the blacksmith, who gave him a nod in return.

“Well, I’m going to test your potential, to see what level of training you should start at.” Glen scoffed, “Looking at you, you’ll barely pass apprentice level.”

After reaching a hut, Glen kicked open the door and dragged out a box stuffed full of weapons.

“Grab a weapon and face me!” Glen shouted, after unsheathing two one-handed swords that hung from his back.

Laran focused on the lone two-handed sword sticking out of the box. He tugged with his arcane energy, and the two-handed sword flew to his outreached hands. Laran weighed the sword carefully. The sword was a little heavy, but it would have to do.

Glen stood, staring in disbelief. “I guess I’m a lucky bastard.” Laran shrugged.

Glen’s mouth twisted into a sinister smile, before charging at Laran with his swords. Laran watched his actions closely, gripping his own sword tightly with both hands. Then, like a cobra, Glen suddenly lunged, his left sword slashing diagonally at Laran.

Laran dodged to the right immediately, but realized that he had fallen into Glen’s trap. Glen’s right sword stabbed at Laran almost instantly, but Laran managed to deflect the blow with his sword. “Nghh…” Laran groaned as he was blown backwards. Laran’s eyes started itching, but he ignored it. Glen slashed ferociously with both swords this time, forming an X.

Instead of stepping back, Laran brought his own sword to bear, clashing with Glen’s blades. Both of them grunted, now locked in a power match. Laran had been caught off guard by the old man’s speed and strength. But he was fully concentrated now. Laran’s eyes started to itch even more.

Glen suddenly pulled back his swords. Laran stumbled forward because of his momentum, temporarily losing control. Glen sidestepped and slashed horizontally. At that split-second, Laran blinked, “releasing” the itch on his eyes. Time suddenly slowed down. The blade continued on its path towards Laran, slowly slicing through the air. Laran swiftly leapt over the blade, and in one smooth motion, round-house kicked Glen in the face.

Glen skidded across the floor, and his blades clanged noisily. Dust was stirred up and settled. Glen slowly turned his dusty, dirty face to meet Laran’s eyes. He wasn’t shocked, but intimidated. “You…you have the mark of the god of time… The eyes of Terran!” he stuttered.

Laran’s eyes were bright red, with a thin black pupil in the middle. Suddenly, Laran’s knees turned to mush. He dropped to the ground, suddenly fatigued. It must have been those eyes… Laran thought before closing his eyes to sleep.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

The goddess of light appeared yet again.

“You…you’re Pura aren’t you?” Laran asked hesitantly.

“Indeed. Listen closely Laran. You must seek more power, only then can you fufill your destiny as a Chosen.” She spoke. Every word, phrase that she said resonated with such power, but at the same time, it also soothed Laran’s soul.

“I can only answer one of your questions.” She spoke.

Gritting his teeth, Laran asked, “Why am I here?”

“Because you have a greater purpose. We purposely brought you to the future with the others through the fabric of time. Your eyes of Terran that have been left by the God of Time is enough proof, no?” She grinned at him, like all this was just a joke.

“Damnit, I want ANSWERS! Why am I a Chosen?!” Larran shouted. He didn’t appreciate being a pawn of the gods.

“All in time…” She whispered, before disappearing into nothingness…

Laran jolted, his head jerking forward as he awoke. He appeared to be in a room, with the walls painted a faint blue colour. There were a few posters of warriors on the wall, and even on the ceiling. He must be in the old man’s house.

“Was that just a dream?” he pondered. He cupped his head in his hands. The events that had occurred were so unexpected. The Terran eyes. The manipulation of the fabric of time. What the hell indeed, he thought, crawling out of the bed. How did I even get here? Laran wondered. Then, he caught his own reflection in a mirror.

Laran was about 18 years old, and his face was oval in shape, with piercing eyes whose pupils were coloured black, and a slight frown on his mouth. His hair was untidy and hung slightly lower than his eyebrows. There was a prominent scar on his left cheek, in the shape of a T.

“You do know that you drool in your sleep don't’cha?” a sweet female voice sounded out behind Laran. Jumping ever so slightly, Laran turned around to see a female that was slightly shorter than him. She was a brunette, with large blue eyes the colour of the sky. Her hair was done up in a ribbon, and she wore a slight smile on her pretty face that suggested she was amused.

“I thought that you might like some food. They certainly aren’t needed to survive but they sure are a delicacy!” she pointed to the bowl of steaming hot porridge she was holding delicately. The steam slowly rose up, dispersing itself into the nearby air. It was just like moments of life… Pretty, but non-lasting.

The next thing Laran knew was that the bowl of porridge was flying at him. Laran managed to catch the bowl, and sighed with relief. “Hey punk! Stop oogling my daughter!” Glen growled aggressively. Laran looked at him, clearly amused. Meanwhile, Glen’s daughter blushed slightly before leaving the room.

“We have to talk.” Glen said, motioning towards the door. Laran followed Glen out of the house, and he adjusted to the familiar environment of Panon.

As they walked among the various students who were sparring and training against dummies, Glen said, “I now realize. You are a Chosen aren’t you?”

“But how did you…”

“You talk in your sleep. And drool, did’ya know that?”

Laran was getting slightly irritated and embarrassed. And more importantly, he wanted to know more.

“What do you know about Chosens?”

“Well, there was a prophecy about em’, and stuff about them coming to the future.”

“Tell me about the prophecy!” he demanded.

“Keep ur’ pants on sonny. Here goes…” Glen cleared his throat.

“When light and darkness combine,
The world will be at stake.
The Chosens will gather.
Therein lies the greatest battle in history.”
“That’s it?” Laran asked carefully.

“Well, if I remember, there’s more.” Glen muttered to himself, before clearing his throat yet again.

“A leader must emerge,
In order to defeat the scourge.
He must first defeat himself.
In order to defeat his enemies.
The one he calls a friend
Will become his foe.”

“It sounded pretty cliche to me, but if you really are a Chosen, then…maybe this could all happen.” Glen said thoughtfully.

Laran stood still. Light and darkness combining? The world at stake? How could this even happen?

Glen continued to voice out his opinion, “Defeat himself before his enemies? That's just stupid. You might as well stab yourself in the butt before…”

Laran cut in, “I need to gain power. More power. And so, I MUST start my training immediately. Understand?”

The old man looked into Laran’s eyes. He saw nothing but determination in them. “Very well…” he whispered.

Somewhere into the distance, an ancient beast stirred.

Chapter 3

“How did you get chosen to be a Chosen anyway?” Glen mocked Laran’s efforts, seemingly deflecting his blows easily. In reality, he was barely able to keep up with the hyper-active youngster. Laran’s eyes itched uncontrollably. He had to learn how to fight properly without the use of Terran eyes, as developing a reliance on them would certainly be undesirable.

Glen dodged another swing by Laran, and punched him in the face, hard. Laran’s stumbled backwards, giving Glen another opening. Glen kicked him in his stomach, making Laran fall flat on his back.

Laran flipped onto his feet in a very cool way, and concentrated his energies onto his sword. The sword glowed a faint blue, and started radiating pure arcane power. Laran took a deep breath and held his sword high above his head.

Laran slashed diagonally with his sword, at the same time releasing the pent up arcane energy. There was now a curved current of electric blue arcane energy flying through the air. It crackled and cut through the air, heading straight for Glen.

Amused with the youngster’s power, Glen simply sidestepped, letting it miss cleanly. He then turned to face Laran, but instead saw a blade stabbing right towards his face. Glen, using his estimation skills gained through pure experience, realized that there was not enough time to dodge or bring his swords up. Instead, he punched upwards, knocking Laran’s sword off.

Laran, taken aback by this sudden reversal of circumstances, accidentally let go of his sword. The sword flew over his head, and Glen raised his right blade to Laran’s throat.

“You lose. Again. This makes it one hundred and ninety-nine to zero.” Glen grinned sinisterly.

“I almost got you! I would’ve won if it wasn’t for this stupid unbalanced sword.” Laran lamented.

Glen suddenly slapped Laran across the face. Hard. “Don’t you ever insult a sword. The spirit that resides within the sword will resent you forever. Also, unbalanced for you, it may be. But for someone else, it could be just the perfect balance. ” Glen reprimanded him furiously.

“For a brain-dead teenager like you, I’m just going to have to make you understand what I mean. Through hard work. We’re going to the blacksmith.” Glen grunted before walking off. Laran shrugged, and had no choice but to follow him.

The blacksmith punched Laran in the solar plexus. Hard. “Oof…” Laran groaned, clutching his stomach and dropping to the ground. “You insulted a sword? Stupid teenagers.” The blacksmith and Glen nodded to each other.

“I’m gonna show you the process of even making the sword that u hold in your hands. Now, how is the feel of that sword?” The blacksmith who had introduced himself as Makoto asked.

“It’s a little heavy…” Laran replied, waving his arms up and down to illustrate his point.

“About how much too heavy?” Makoto inquired.

“About…750 grams.” Laran said confidently, using his arcane power to aid him in his calculations.
“Hmm…interesting…” Makoto stroked his chin while looking at Laran.

Makoto beckoned to Laran. Laran entrusted his sword to Makoto, and watched as he walked over to the forge. The forge was filled up with charcoal, and Laran watched the fire engulfed them. The blacksmith made a rising movement with his hands, and the fire roared furiously. Makoto then held Laran’s sword over the fire with his left hand, and he clenched his right hand into a tight fist. The fire, like a beast, pounced on the sword, twisting itself around it, rapidly heating it up. Laran could see that Makoto was concentrating immensely, tightening his fists until veins bulged from them.

“Glen told me that you were a Chosen. What was your previous weapon like?” Makoto inquired in a calm voice.

Laran described it to him.

“Hmm. Well, I think that its time to describe the features of weapons to you. Firstly, do you know of upgrade cores?” Laran shook his head.

“Let me start from the general picture. Certain weapons contain spirits. Namely, the more powerful ones. It is also possible to extract spirits or insert spirits into a weapon. If a soul is left inside a weapon for long enough, the weapon will naturally become more powerful. If you shatter a weapon, its spirit would temporarily be set loose, until it can be caught by a necromancer. Actually, anybody with powerful enough arcane energy can catch, insert or extract spirits.”

Makoto lifted the sword out of the forge, and started hammering on it.

“Back to upgrade cores. Upgrade cores are actually hollow core that contain an element, a material, anything really. It can also contain souls. By itself, upgrade cores are extremely cheap, but upgrade cores with a rare element or spirit will fetch a much higher price. Anybody with arcane energy can merge upgrade cores into weapons. The weapon would absorb the properties of the upgrade core, occasionally reflecting it in design.”

“Actually, my arcane energy isn’t as powerful as others, so I can’t properly merge the cores into the weapons. But you…I heard Glen say that you were able to manifest your arcane energy and use it as a weapon! That's amazing! Maybe you can finally put this item of mine to good use.”

Just then, Makoto lifted Laran’s sword and handed it to Laran. Somehow, it was now the perfect weight, Laran noticed as he weighed the red-hot sword.

“Now, when its still hot, it will be easier for the sword to absorb the upgrade core. Hurry, follow me!” Makoto was as giddy as a little child before Christmas, hurrying to another room. Laran followed, gingerly holding out the sword.

“Try this.” Makoto gestured. Laran picked up the upgrade core. It was slightly smaller than his thumb, shaped like a bullet. It contained a tiny hilt inside, with the design of a skull.

“Argh!” Laran suddenly grabbed his head, as waves of pain shot out. Black stipes flew across his eyes, obstructing his vision. Then, they wrapped around him, and everything went dark.

Chapter 4

He was back in the past.

“Great slaying there Laran!” the same person from his memories commented.

Laran looked around, only to realize that he was standing next to the “corpse” of a huge armoured skeleton.

“Who are you?” Laran demanded.

“Good joke.” The person gave a hearty laugh and tossed something to Laran. Laran caught it, and looking closely, he could see that it was the same hilt that Makoto had given him, the same one from his previous memory.

“This one’s yours. C’mon, there are more monsters to slay!” The person shouted out. To Laran, the person’s features, his stature, everything was extremely blurred. He couldn’t make out who the person was.

Then, the world suddenly flashed impossibly bright. The flash was so bright that Laran had to immediately close his eyes and shield them…

A wave of nausea overcame him. He doubled over, kneeling on the ground. “Hey, you okay?” Makoto asked, concerned.

Laran slowly stood up, his legs shaking ever so slightly. He placed the upgrade core onto the hilt of the sword, placed his hands over it and concentrated.

“Try to visualize it entering the sword.” Makoto suggested.

Laran gently applied his arcane power to both the upgrade core and the sword. He could see the very particles that comprised of the sword shift to make way for the upgrade core. It started slipping into the hilt, slowly. Laran had to apply more and more arcane energy in order to keep the particles from each other.

Meanwhile, Makoto watched, amazed. Laran’s hands started shaking. He was drawing out too much arcane power from his body. Only a quarter of the upgrade core remained sticking out. Laran’s legs trembled badly, threatening to give way. Then, another force was cast over the upgrade core. Makoto was helping him.

Finally, with one final push, the upgrade core sank into the sword. The hilt flashed, and twisted into the design of a skull, the same one from Laran’s memories.

“You owe me one…” Makoto panted, as both of them lay spread-eagled over the floor. Both were utterly exhausted.

Later on in the day, Laran went back to meet Glen at the sparring arena.

There, he found the old man sitting on a bench, deep in thought. As Laran took a seat next to him, Glen suddenly spoke.

“Four. I had four apprentices. Now they are spread across the land, each honing their skills in their unique, individual way. It seemed like just yesterday that they were under my supervision. Now, you are right here, in front of me.”

Glen suddenly stood up, and pointed his left sword at Laran. Laran understood. One last fight.

Laran was able to grip his sword even better with the new hilt. His speed was much quicker with the balanced blade. Glen never stood a chance.

Clank! Laran striked with such speed that Glen was unable to respond. Laran feigned a horizontal swipe, before stabbing aggressively. Glen, caught off-guard by the youngster’s speed, could only block the stab before falling to the ground, panting.

Laran looked at Glen, with a triumphant smile on his face. “You didn’t get to two hundred.”

Glen grinned in return, panting, “Give me a break!”

They stayed there for a few seconds, before Glen declared. “Judging by my age, I have not long left on this world. I want you to be my successor.”

“But…” Laran protested, taken aback by the old man’s sudden words.

“No buts. You are a Chosen. Who else could be a better pick?” he grinned to himself, “I…actually have nothing else to teach you. All I have left is to pass you my most valued possessions. I hope that you can make good use of them.”

Laran followed Glen into his house. Glen brought Laran to the room that he was recuperating in. He took down the mirror, and lo and behold…behind it lay a wall. Glen placed his palm onto the centre of the wall, and without warning, the wall suddenly split into two.

“Wait here.” Glen muttered, before heading inside and emerging with a small wooden box. He slided open the box, to reveal a cellphone, 10 small rocks with the words (ARCANE INC.) written on them, a map, and a scroll.

“Firstly, this cellphone has so many capabilities that I can’t even begin to describe it! In addition to being able to call others, you can use it to form arcane energy connections! Cool huh! Next, these small rocks actually allow you to store arcane energy inside. What you can do with them is entirely up to your imagination. The map…well, its self-explanatory, I’ve marked down the locations of my apprentices so you can seek them out. They will train you to become even stronger.”

“And finally…the scroll. DO NOT open it until you absolutely have to. This will increase your power exponentially, at a great risk. Just read out the inscriptions to activate it.”

Laran nodded, taking all the items gratefully. He bid farewell to everyone in the town, and set off for the first apprentice, at the Mountains of Moria, south-east to Panon.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Tempest Slash!” Laran shouted, swinging his sword down and releasing the pent-up arcane energy that he had built up inside the sword.

The crackling electric blue of arcane energy flew bit deeply into the armoured hide of the wolf. Deeply coloured magenta blood flowed out from the wound. The wolf howled in pain, before succumbing to its death.

Laran stood far from it, still holding the stance he used to release the arcane energy. He had recently named that killer technique. “Still not quite up to standard,” he muttered, sheathing his sword behind his back, samurai style. He should have literally sliced that wolf into half with the amount of arcane energy that he had pumping into his attack.

It had already been 4 days since he left Panon. According to Glen, he should almost be at his first apprentice’s area of stay, the mountains were just another kilometer more.

He searched the wolf’s body for any valuables. Sometimes, monsters carried items that they stole from people. “Finders Keepers” was the rule in the world. They usually concealed the items in upgrade cores. As such, everyone needed to check the items inside the upgrade core before fusing it into a weapon.

Everyone knew the famous story of Amai. He fused an apple that was inside the upgrade core to his dagger. He proudly paraded around with his “edible dagger”, making a fool out of himself. Some ignored him, a few applauded him, and the majority beat him up for making a ruckus.

He found an upgrade core in one of the various compartments of the wolves’ armour. Looking inside, he found a tiny spellbook. Extracting the spell book from the upgrade core, he saw its title. It was titled “Arcane manifestations”, and spoke of how to manipulate one’s arcane energy to form armour. Intrigued, Laran read on.

The key idea is to harness one’s arcane energy and shape it. Once the user is able to imagine the shape and form, he must then embark on the most difficult step, integrating it into the design that he has came up with. The most successful users are able to make the arcane objects to bear the exact same qualities of the actual products. If successful, the user would receive protection

Laran steadied himself. He would attempt to form a chestplate. As he concentrated, the flow of arcane energy coarsed slowly throughout his body. Smiling at the familiar feeling, he close his eyes and begun to imagine a black chestplate with red dragons at the shoulder plates. The arcane energy coarsed even faster. Laran’s muscles tensed, as he focused even more. His eyes shut themselves tightly, and he held his breath.

After he sensed that the transformation was complete, he opened his eyes and examined his chest. There was a flimsy silver metal vest, instead of a fully formed chestplate. Laran was not really disappointed though, he knew that he had to practice to perfect his skills.

“Not bad. For a warrior.” A voice rang out. Laran twisted behind, to see a figure dressed in grey robes, holding a wand. That person was sitting on a nearby rock, with his legs crossed over each other, examining Laran. From what he could infer, the person was a wizard.

“Your arcane energy…it’s pretty powerful.” The wizard got off the rock and walked towards Laran.

“But…for a Chosen, its just ordinary. And yes, I’ve been following you ever since you left Panon. That's how I know. I’m still having my doubts though, how could a drooling fool like you truly be a Chosen?” The wizard said a-matter-of-factly.

“In fact, check this out.” The wizard raised his wand. Boom! Arcane energy exploded in the form of an energy blast.

Laran felt the force pushing him back several feet, but he managed to stand his ground.

“Hey…you didn’t fall over. That's good…” The young wizard grinned.

“How about a bet? If you can defeat me, I’l give you this.” The wizard held up an upgrade core. Looking closely, Laran could see a silvery strand that looked like a liquid slithering about in the core.

Laran immediately realized two things. Number 1: That silvery thing was a spirit! Number 2: That wizard must be a Necromancer!

He recalled Glen’s advice before he left.

There are two types of Wizards. The elementals and the necromancers. The elementals are especially skilled in manipulating elements of nature, fire, water etc. The necromancers on the other hand…well you can guess what they can do.

“And if you win?” Laran asked

“Its no fun taking things from the weak.” The necromancer laughed aloud.

Laran drew out his sword. He had no idea what Necromancers could do. I am so…dead. Laran thought to himself.

“Ready when you are.” The necromancer waved his arms, mocking Laran.

The ball was in his court.

Chapter 5

Laran stood still, sweat flowing down his neck. He contemplated his strategy, observing the necromancer, looking for an opening. He knew a glaringly obvious flaw of the necromancer; he was too overconfident. And he would pay for that.

Laran rushed towards the necromancer. He knew the most immediate thing that he had to do, to get into middle ranged combat. Too far and he would get blasted with arcane magic. Too near and he wouldn’t be able to use his two-handed sword effectively.

The necromancer waved his wand in a circle, and Laran saw a faint glittering in the air around him.

The necromancer pointed his wand at Laran, and screamed out, “Shadolt!”. A concentrated ball of dark energy flew towards Laran, who tried to parry it away. However, as soon as the ball made contact with the blade, Laran realized what a fool he had been. The ball weighed a ton! Just to push away the ball, Laran had to strain himself. A lot.

Nevertheless, he continued charging at the wizard. Now in range, Laran swung his blade horizontally. He had to try to fool the necromancer with normal sword attacks, using Tempest Slash only when he had the appropriate window of opportunity.

The blade was just about to slice the necromancer, when Clang! It was deflected off a force field. It must have been that silent spell that he casted! Laran thought. Laran looked up, only to see the necromancer with his wand pointing straight at him.

“Shadolt!” another ball of dark energy flew towards Laran. Laran dropped to the floor, and attempted to slash upwards. The necromancer stretched out his hands, palms facing Laran. The sword hit the force-field again.

“Torolt!” The necromancer cried out. Swords suddenly pierced out from the ground. Laran reacted quickly, jumping back. Now what!? Laran thought anxiously.

Skeletons were rising out from the ground. Some wore army khakis, some wore tattered trousers, and some didn’t even have clothing. A few were wielding axes, swords etc. while others were unarmed.

“Serve me.” The necromancer grinned, pointing his wand straight at Laran. Laran tensed himself. The most efficient way was to go straight for the necromancer. Take down the King and his pawns fall.

“Kill.” The necromancer sent the message to his undead, prompting them to charge en masse towards Laran. The undead charged, sounds coming from the contact of bone against ground. The air was filled with the clattering of armour as a few heavily armoured skeletons shuffled quickly towards Laran.


Laran dashed towards the necromancer, slashing the skeletons with so much force that they crumbled into bones. An axe swiped at his head. Laran focused arcane energy on his sword, and swung so hard that he cleanly sliced the axe into two pieces. The sword continued on its way, smashing the skeleton’s skull into bits.

“Damn. If only I could get to him faster!” Laran thought urgently, punching a skull off the skeleton. Laran suddenly stopped in his tracks. Laran suddenly stopped in his tracks. He held his sword high above his head, similar to his pose before unleashing the Tempest Slash. He started gathering arcane energy again, resulting in the familiar light-blue aura around his sword.

“Tempest Hurricane!” Laran yelled. Instead of releasing his energy into a concentrated wave, he just let it explode.

Rather than explode like the necromancer’s arcane energy did, Laran’s resulted in a hurricane, which swept and cut the skeletons into pieces. Laran directed the hurricane towards the necromancer.

Standing firmly on his feet, the necromancer steadied himself, right before the hurricane smashed into him. Or more specifically, his arcane shield. He grimaced as he took the attack head-on, his shield absorbed the damage, leaving him panting in exhaustion.

Meanwhile, Laran was slowly dragging his feet towards the necromancer. That power of the attack left him badly shaken. He had already exhausted more than half of his arcane energy.

“Shadolt.” The necromancer spoke softly, releasing yet another fully charged dark energy ball. Laran had no way to avoid it. He had to reveal his trump card.

“Tempest Slash!” Laran yelled loudly, slashing his sword and releasing that outburst of blue arcane energy.

BOOM! The two techniques clashed with each other, colliding in an extremely impressive display of power. Smoke erupted, completely engulfing Laran.

“Interesting…” The necromancer scratched his head. A tiny glint of metal sparkled somewhere in the thick smoke.

“Aaargh!” Laran screamed, thrusting his sword straight at the Necromancer. He had activated his Terran eyes, and they were blood red. He was sprinting towards the Necromancer with whatever strength he could muster.

The Necromancer was unable to focus in time, and got stabbed in the arm. No! Laran thought. Although his strike drew blood, the wound was still too shallow. The necromancer did not specially shield that part of his body, but his passive arcane guard still gave him some protection.

The necromancer’s face contorted with pain and anger. How could this worm have hurt him? He would pay. The necromancer swiped his wand at Laran. “Magic Claw!” he shouted in anger, swinging his wand

Dark blue arcane energy flashed from his wand, leaping and biting deeply into Laran. The ferocity in which they slashed and bit into him were as if they were wild animals with razor-sharp fangs. Laran was rapidly pushed back, and he thrusted his sword firmly into the ground, to stop himself from moving back anymore. His face stung, and he tasted copper in his mouth. He looked at his chest, only to see the arcane vest ripped to shreds, and his chest full of bloody cuts.

“Your debt is not repaid yet!” The necromancer screamed, resurrecting the undead, causing them to rise up and continue their death march towards Laran.

The necromancer, consumed in fury, continued swinging vigorously. The blows stung Laran badly, drawing blood. The terran eyes were also beginning to take their toll on Laran, making him weaker by the second. Then he saw it. That window of opportunity.

Laran stood firmly, just soaking in the blows. He felt renewed by the opportunity he now had.

Everything’s fair in War.

Chapter 6

Laran felt the adrenaline gather from within him, as his body tensed up. There’s only one chance, he told himself. Only one chance to take him down.

The skeletons remaining edged towards him. He didn’t have much time left to execute his attack.

The necromancer was too caught up in offense. It was the perfect time to counterattack, to take him down in one swift strike. But how? Laran wondered desperately, clinging on desperately onto his sword, which was stuck firmly into the ground. That's it! He cried out silently.

Meanwhile, the necromancer slashed relentlessly. “If you beg like a stray, I may just decide to let you live!” he laughed insanely, “No one injures me and gets away with it!”

Laran could feel his energies slipping away with every claw that cut into him. His vision blurred, then cleared, then blurred again. No more time...he thought.

“Tempest…” Laran muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?” The necromancer edged slightly closer to Laran.

“SLASH!!!” Laran suddenly bellowed. He forcefully drew out all the arcane energy he could muster. He could feel the arcane energy being forcefully drained from him. The sword sucked everything in, like a ravenous black hole eager to consume.
In one swift motion, he grabbed and swung the sword out of the ground, releasing the arcane energy. Releasing was the wrong word. He just let it explode out towards the necromancer.

The attack shot out towards the necromancer with incredible speed, stirring up the air to form a strong current of wind. The pure force of the attack was evident, Laran was blown backwards by his own force, falling back first onto the ground.

The necromancer’s eyes widened as he saw the tsunami that was arcane energy howling as it lunged at him. “Shadolt!” he cried out. It just dissipated as it met Laran’s attack.

“Damn you! Shadolt! Shadolt!” the necromancer cried out, his voice wavering in fear. He was desperate. He watched as his spells crashed harmlessly into Laran’s attack, and the slash of energy loomed ever closer.

The slash of energy smashed headlong to the necromancer. The surprised necromancer didn’t have time to put up his secondary barrier of arcane energy. The strike ripped past his backup force field and slashed diagonally across his chest. He was lifted off the ground, eyes wide open, stunned. Then, he collapsed heavily onto the dirt floor, knocked out straight. Blood dripped from his wound, pouring onto the grass and dirt.

Laran felt extremely fatigued as well. He shut off his Terran eyes, and tried to stay awake. Sleep was coming to him, slowly but surely. He tried to lift up his body, to continue moving. My sword…he thought, reaching out to his sword which lay just a metre from him. Then, he shut his eyes, embracing that familiar black.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Is his quest going smoothly?” a voice asked.

“Of course it is. Everything is going swimmingly. The fool doesn’t suspect a thing.” A familiar voice spoke.

Laran opened his eyes. He was in a place completely filled with darkness, and two distant figures were talking. He began making his way towards them.

“Excellent. It will all be complete in no time…the new era of darkness.” The first being sounded out grandly.

“We need to seek some help from a human.”

“I know who to ask. He too is interesting in the bringing of a new Age.”

“What do we have here?” the first being turned to look at Laran. “Our Chosen. The harbinger of darkness eh?” It laughed. There was a kind of hollowness in the way it laughed, the complete lack of humanity, of feelings, of…a soul.

“I’l see you soon.” The figure pointed a finger at Laran, and his eyes suddenly activated. The Terran eyes felt like they were on fire, making him yelp uncontrollably. Laran squeezed his head in pain, desperate to stop the jarring pain. The heat was becoming unbearable, he forcefully shut his eyes and he could have sworn he heard sizzling and burning on his eyes. He forced himself to calm down, focusing on his heartbeat which was wild and erratic. Then, it cooled down, and Laran opened his eyes.

He was blind in the darkness. The silence was absolute. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see that he was in a misty room. It was cool and humid, but he seemed to have slightly more difficulty breathing. Suddenly, a door opened, flooding the room with bright, glaring light. Laran had to shield his eyes from the sudden burst, before the lights in the room came on.

“Welcome to my humble home. Your training shall begin soon…Chosen.” The figure that opened the door extended his arms towards Laran. That was all he saw before he drifted off to sleep yet again.

“Argh! Damn you!”, the same voice woke Laran up with a jolt. He groggily opened his eyes, to see a palm flying straight at his face.

“Ouch!” Laran cried out, as the palm connected with his right cheek. He cupped his cheek, and looked straight at the person who slapped him. He was a middle-aged man, with long golden blonde hair that sparkled when the sunlight reached it and glowed when it didn’t. He had small, focused eyes, with a rather flat nose and he was scowling.

“That’l teach you to drool on my pillow!” The man proclaimed loudly, his hands on his hips.

Laran looked down at the pillow, to see a rather generous portion of it soaked in his saliva. Oops. He did it again.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” the man shouted yet again, this time slapping Laran across his left cheek.

“Ouch…” Laran groaned, this time cupping both his cheeks. The man sure was violent.

“I heard from Glen that a young warrior would be coming to learn under me. Judging by the way you slobbered all over my pillow, that flood on the bed is more than enough evidence.”

“My name…is Xenious. I am the master of spirits!” As he spoke, a wind suddenly gusted upwards behind him. Pieces of undead charms flew up behind him, twirling gracefully in the gust of wind. His long flowing robe waved in the gentle wind, with elegance and majesty of a lion-ballerina hybrid combination. Then his blonde hair blew all over his face, obstructing his view of Laran, and Laran’s view of him.

“Damn! This always happens!” he exclaimed unhappily, stamping his foot like a child. Meanwhile, a woman stepped out from behind him, surprising Laran.

She was slightly shorter than Xenious, with a wafer-thin body. She had small curves throughout her body, and she held her head up delicately, as if balancing her weight was a truly challenging chore. She seemed to be a rather petite and gentle woman.

“How many times have I told you to use something to hold your hair in place? That’s the last time I’m helping you out with this!” she stormed out of the room.

“But I wanna look like an anime character! And who else is going to help me with the fanning and the throwing of charms? Honeeeeey…” he chased after her like a desperate schoolboy after a girl who was paying him no attention.

Laran rolled his eyes. Weird people. Then, he noticed a note on the table. There was an upgrade core next to it. Laran held up the letter. It read,

“You lucky son of a gun. You are lucky you even survived. If I was fighting you using my REAL power, you would’ve been toast. I’l take you on for a rematch anytime! You ain’t gonna luck out forever. You defeated me, so I have no choice but to see you as ALMOST an equal. The upgrade core I promised you is on the table. Anyway, here’s my number, XXXXXXXX. I also took one of your arcane energy stones from your bag and left you one of mine. When the time comes, you can establish a connection between the two stones, and I’l teleport to your location through the arcane connection. Train hard! If not you will never be able to match up to my REAL power.

P.s. Have you met up with other Chosens yet? We need to find out where our brothers and sisters are to fufill our destiny.

Signed,
Raccious”

“So that’s his name…Raccious eh?” Laran thought.

Then a sudden realization struck him. “Brothers and Sisters? That means…he is too a Chosen…”

*BeepBeep*, Laran’s cellphone rang. Picking it up, he saw that it was from Xenious.

“Meet me under the waterfall to start your training. Bring that spirit in the upgrade core.”

Laran stretched himself, shaking away the last of his morning grogginess. No time to waste.

Chapter 7

Screams. From the dark eagle soaring above, from the undead that would never find peace with their souls, and in his heart. Screams of pain. Anger. Screams when one’s pride is wounded deeply, when one’s heart of ambition is pierced, when deep scarlet blood flows into the ground.

Raccious sat on the ground, in the middle of the long deserted cemetery. He had been defeated, found by some random passerby, and healed. Although that Chosen…What was his name…Laran, had also faced the prospect of death, he still survived longer in the fight. Laran was the last man standing.

Damn. He was supposed to be the heir to the long line of necromancers in his family. The last 5 generations of his family all consisted of great necromancers. They had all contributed to Earth. He knew he was a Chosen, and that even more was expected of him. Pura had personally informed him of that. She had also given him a piece of information that haunted him to this day, forming the very reason why he believed he existed for.

He had been training non-stop for the last 3 years. While others preferred to take a more standard path under Necromancer Instructors, he had trained on his lonesome, coming up with original techniques. Another added benefit was that he was more in touch with his natural element. The darkness. He could call on a large number of skeletons, undead, and creatures of the dark in general.

His main problem was that he was too complacent. Even he knew that that was his hamartia, his tragic flaw. He always got too caught up in the battle. It was like he was being possessed by someone…or something.

He shook the thought off. He would have to concentrate on training. Defense in particular. He drew out his wand. “Synchro rate is at 20% huh…” he thought. He would get it up to 25% by the end of the night. Him and Venom would achieve it.

“Consume the living. Venom!” Raccious called out, transforming his wand into a Onyx-coloured staff, with a diamond orb at the very top. Venom was a top-quality spirit, one that had been passed down in his family for many generations.

“Spar with me.” He summoned a pack of zombie wolves. They rose out from the ground, crackling with dark arcane energy that surged through their fangs. Sensing that there was blood to be drank, they snarled, acid saliva dribbling down their chin.

5 on 1. Easy.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

“I’m gonna teach you something that’s gonna boost your power exponentially if you know how to use it. Fuse that uprade core into your sword please.” Xenious spoke.

The atmosphere was very relaxing, the air was humid and the sky was coloured a delicate shade of blue. There was a rainforest off in the distance, and the waterfall in front of them beat and churned the water that flowed in a river.

Laran started the process. He had much experience fusing upgrade cores ever since he left Panon, but this was extremely difficult. The soul at first refused to go into the sword, fighting back against Laran’s arcane energy. It kicked and floated, fighting against the push of Laran’s arcane energy. The thing had a mind of its own.

Xenious had been studying Laran. When Laran finally finished the process, the sword exploded in white light. It shimmered and shone, before looking exactly as it had been before.

“Your spirit seems to be a stubborn one. I’ve never seen a spirit fight with such tenacity against it’s soon to be master. Cut your finger and let the blood drip onto the sword.”

Laran winced slightly as he bit into his thumb. He let a single drip of blood fall onto the sword.

*Drips*

The sword glowed red this time, but almost instantly it reverted to original. Except that there were now runic inscriptions running along the middle of his sword.

“You are now linked and ready to synchro.” Xenious grinned.

Before Laran could ask what in the word he was linked to, a voice sounded in his head. It was deep, tainted with the scars of pain. Laran sensed that the spirit was an old one.

“Yet again. I have been summoned yet again. To roam the earth for all time, that is the punishment for my sin. And I have to answer to snot-nosed kids like you.” The spirit growled unpleasantly.

Laran retorted out loud, “I’m not a snot-nosed kid!” without realizing it.

Xenious snorted in amusement, “More like a snot-mouthed kid. After you defiled my pillow, the river continued to my bed! Now I have to get new bedsheets as well!”

Laran shut his mouth hastily. If he did that in public, people would probably think that he went mad.

He conversed with the spirit. “Watch your mouth! I’m a Chosen!”

“Oh drool on me! Now that we’re linked I can access your previous memories. And boy are they messed up. But there seems to be a certain mist when I attempt to prod deeper…hmm…amnesia?” Laran could feel the spirit poking around inside his head.

“Shoo! Mind your own business!” Laran swatted his own head in a futile attempt to shake the spirit.

“Say pleeaaseee.” The spirit sang cheekily.

Laran was pissed. It turns out that although the spirit was experienced, it also took on the personality of a retard.

“Fine. Please.” Laran talked to the spirit nicely.

Instantly Laran felt the spirit calm down, from a rapid prodding of his mind to a slow, relaxed swirling.

“Alright. Time for you two to synchro. Just try to embrace each other’s soul, you two should share the same body, same stream of consciousness…same life.”

Laran relaxed himself, giving the spirit more free reign. The sword was his connection between the spirit and himself, and he gripped it tightly, holding onto that connection with an iron vicegrip.

What is your name…he asked himself, the spirit in particular.

The pain of living…I have faced many trials…Just call me Rejection…The spirit had returned to its calm composed mood.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Xenious watched. He was immensely interested in how the Chosen would be able to synchro with his weapon. Usually, the person would call out the name of the spirit residing within his weapon when activating synchro mode. With a higher level on synchronization, the person would be able to allow his or her movements to flow fluidly with the spirit, drastically increasing his or her combat prowess.

Tiny rocks started floating around Laran, a testament to the arcane energy he was using to synchro. There was a faint rumbling in the ground under Laran, it seemed as if a minor earthquake was occurring.

“Let your tears streak the sky! Rejection!” Laran bellowed. He slammed his sword into the ground and let his arcane energy explode. A flash of white light covered a radius of an entire mile, and Xenious had to frantically shield his eyes before he got blinded.

When the light faded, Xenious opened his eyes eagerly. And there stood Laran.

Everything about him seemed the same, yet there was definitely something different. An explicit difference was that now there was a faint aura around him, and that the sword had morphed. It was now glowing slightly cobalt, with the same skull hilt, and now it had shrunk to the shape of a one-handed sword.

Laran inspected the sword with much interest. The weight became lighter, but the speed to power ratio had actually increased. (This means that while the sword got lighter, the power increased). No. The sword wasn’t the correct term. Rejection was.

It turned out that synchronizing with Rejection also gave Laran a calmer state of mind. It was as if an encyclopedia of ancient knowledge and skills had been crammed into his head, and the sudden influx of information and knowledge had allowed him to transcend his state of being. He not only felt more powerful physically, but also spiritually. The cut on his finger had also healed when he synchronized.

He happened to notice a small hologram-like meter floating above Rejection. The meter was only slightly filled from the bottom.

“That's the synchronization meter, Right now, you have synchronized only 5% with your sword. Basically, as you get closer to Rejection and fight more battles with it, your meter will increase when you decide to go into synchro mode.”

“Try going into the rainforest to test your new abilities. I’l be waiting here for you when you are done.” Xenious instructed Laran before heading towards the waterfall.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

“I sense that there is a strange stirring in the world! The EXs have been restless. Some have even emerged from the underground cavern!” Kingsley spoke urgently.

His voice echoed throughout the grand hall in which they were all in. They were in the Kingdom, the place where all the gods lived. There, the air was fresh, the weather cooling, and buying property had an awesome system of 1% downpayment. Everyone was happy, except for the poor property agents who had to chase after their buyers for the payment. They were in a room. It was painted completely white, with a few pieces of furniture, giving it a rather barren look. There was a gigantic hardwood table, with numerous chairs propped around it. The people at the table comprised of all the gods. Minor, Important etc, all the gods were there. Except one.

“Where exactly is Dura!?” Kingsley questioned.

Everyone around the impressive round table muttered to each other. No one was completely sure of where she was. A few lost souls looked around, confused, before making a little noise to give the impression that they were actually discussing something.

Kingsley sighed. Although they were all gods, they had to settle this the old-fashioned way.

“Alright, alright. Everyone, write any information you have heard recently about Dura on the piece of paper.”

The piece of paper was slowly passed around the table. Everyone scribbled what little they had to contribute before passing it.

Half an hour passed, as the gods waited impatiently for their turn. It was a big table.

Finally, the paper reached Kingsley. As he prepared to read aloud the rumours, he heard a loud clattering noise that no doubt belonged to them.

“Damn you medieval knights, stop making so much noise in your armour!” Kingsley yelled at the group of knights unhappily.

The leader of the knights slid down his helmet to reveal himself as King Arthur.

“Well, the grand hall is the only place that actually leads to a functioning bathroom! We are having enough trouble finding a hole in our armour to carry out our business already! Whats up with your attitude! First you steal our patented round table, then you make a fuss out of our attire!” Arthur complained, as his knights booed the gods.

The gods booed them back.

*After some time*

Kingsley cleared his throat. Nothing to warm himself up like a session of childish debating against the knights of Camelot.

“Ok, I will now read out the ideas regarding Dura’s disappearance. Firstly…wait, who the heck wrote KIA?”

Silence ensued.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Crickets chirped, leaves rustled and the shadow cast by the canopy layer of trees loomed over every creature in the tropical rainforest.

Somewhere in a deep cavern, a spider spun its web swiftly, with the grace of a gymnast and with the skill of a craftsman. Before long, an unsuspecting fly flew into the near-invisible web, getting stuck in the process.

The spider, sensing that its prey was now trapped, eagerly made its way towards the fly. The fly struggled and squirmed, trying to break loose of the thickly bound strands that bound it to the web. As the spider approached, the fly struggled even more furiously. Its efforts were futile, as the spider leapt onto the prey, biting deep into its flesh. The venom seeped into the wound, numbing it. The spider immediately went into action, spinning a dense web to completely restrict the fly’s movements.

This was the natural process of predator and prey. Except that the spider could hardly be considered a spider. It had 10 legs, each as thick and powerful as a tree branch. Bits and pieces of steel daggers were attached to the spider’s limbs, giving the impression that it was more artificial than natural. It had 8 eyes, and all of them were large and beady, presumably giving it better vision. Its fangs were as huge as elephant tusks, and they hung outside of the spider’s mouth, with venomous liquid slithering down. They were sharp like razor blades, and could easily tear human flesh to shreds. A single strike would be fatal.

The mutant spider, after carefully wrapping up its tiny meal, retreated into the darkness, ready to strike in an instant. It was almost invisible in its element.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Become one with your sword. That is all.” Xenious had said, sending him on his way. Xenious wanted Laran to train himself and achieve better synchronization before personally teaching him. As such, Laran was now roaming about inside the gigantic tropical forest, looking for enemies to train on.

So far, all he had encountered was a pack of ordinary wolves. They certainly were rather weak, as Laran dispatched of them in a few strikes. Laran wanted something more challenging, something that would force him to activate synchro mode.

“ROAR!!!” came a sound from nearby. Laran was immediately alerted, slowly twisting in a circle. He had absolutely no idea where an attack could come from.

“Die, Human.” A deep voice rang out, before a majestic rain tree was shredded to pieces by a lunar shaped spear. The silhouette of a huge beast towered high above him.

“Oh shiiiiiiiiiiii…” Laran didn’t have time to finish his sentence, as a Tauromacis tore through the tree like a rhino, with his trident pointed straight at Laran. It had a silvery mask of solid titanium, its neck bulged with veins and its horns were a deep orange.

Laran rolled out of the way just in time, right as the Tauromacis charged past. The Tauromacis’ speed was astounding. Laran examined it hastily.

It was easily 3 times his height, with muscles that threatened to rip apart the leather buckle that held its bare armour together. Its body structure was similar to a human, if the human was the child of a wrestling superstar and an Olympic sprinter. Oh, and if it took steroids from the day it was born. Although Tauromacis were known to possess limited intelligence, their brute force battle prowess more than made them worthy soldiers.

The minotaur smashed apart trees and boulders before it skidded to a halt. It approached Laran with haste, swinging his spear at Laran with the effort an elephant took to crush a dog.

Laran did a direct counter-attack, stopping the spear with Rejection. Although the Tauromacis was not even using its full strength, Laran struggled to match the creature’s attack.

The Tauromacis seemed surprised, letting its guard down for a second. Laran saw the creature’s muscles relax for a second, signifying that it was taken aback. He set his left foot forward, and pivoted around it, swinging his sword as he would swing an axe.

The keen blade bit deeply into the Tauromacis’ tendon on its right leg. It roared with anger, and Laran was rocked by the sheer shockwaves that vibrated through his body.

Laran grimaced. Even Rejection was unable to sever its leg. The Tauromacis’ flesh was like it was made of iron. Laran whirled around, trying to cut into its other leg.

However, the Tauromacis had learnt its lesson. Its right leg jerked backwards, slamming into Laran before he could attack.

His saliva flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to realize what was happening. His back collided full-force with a particularly thick tree, temporarily paralyzing him. He felt like he had been hit by a runaway train.

“What are you waiting for? Get up!” Rejection sounded from within Laran’s mind. He quickly pulled himself up, wincing as his body ached and protested.

“Let your tears streak the sky. Rejection!” Laran transformed into Synchronization mode in a flash. The adrenaline rush numbed the pain he felt, and he felt a rush of euphoria. At the same time, he was incredibly calm. The opposing forces were like identical waves crashing into each other from both directions, before settling slowly. His senses were augmented greatly, giving him a somewhat limited 360 degree sixth sense.

He noticed that the meter read 10% synchronization. He had achieved 15% through his meditations and training, but his stamina went down dramatically whenever he pushed himself to that level. His stamina and arcane pool increased proportionally to the synchronization as he shared his body with Rejection. Which meant one thing.

“Terran!” Laran activated his Terran eyes. He dashed towards the Tauromacis speedily. It roared and released a single thunder strike from its spear. With his Terran eyes activated, Laran could see clearly the path of the projectile.

Dodging with ease, he was almost directly in front of the Tauromacis. “Tempest Slash!” the razor-sharp wave of arcane energy targeted the Tauromacis’ mask. The beast raised his crescent mooned spear, deflecting the blow. It snorted in pleasure. And then blood spurted out from the back of its legs, causing the Tauromacis to collapse heavily onto its knees.

Laran had used that technique as a distraction, hastily dealing severe damage to the Tauromacis’ legs. Rejection surged with arcane energy, before releasing yet another Tempest Slash. The Tauromacis twisted around labouredly, lifting its spear again. As the Slash collided head-on with the spear, Laran simultaneously appeared behind the Tauromacis. To the naked eye, it would seem that Laran teleported, however, he was just moving at an amazing speed.

With all his strength, Laran thrusted Rejection directly into the Tauromacis’ spine. Rejection passed through thick flesh, before reaching the spine. For a split moment, Laran panicked, afraid that he would be unable to succeed in his attempt. Then, there was a sickening “CRUNCH”, as Rejection violently sliced through the Tauromacis’ spine, sliding fluidly through the rest of the flesh. The tip of Rejection peeked through the Tauromacis’ chest.

There was a lowly growl from the Tauromacis, as its entire body tensed…and relaxed as it embraced death. Laran withdrew Rejection, before cleaning the blood-stained sword on the grass. He took a deep breath and looked at the corpse. What was a Tauromacis doing in the middle of a rainforest?

“Not bad.” A voice whispered quietly. Laran snapped to attention, looking up just as a hooded figure stepped into the clearing.

Laran took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Another opponent?

Chapter 8

It was a majestic castle. It stretched to a magnificent height of 1000 feet, and there were more than a dozen rooms filled up to the brim with solid gold bars and bags of gold coins. No, rooms were the wrong description. They were much more spacious than that. Quite a few were interlinked, giving the visitors the feeling that they were within a dungeon, only that this one was intrically designed by a master artist who honed his skills for eighty years. After he completed his task of transforming the place into something Da Vinci would be proud of, he was of course executed. The designs were meant to be unique after all.

However, the person who owned the castle only used the rooms higher up in the castle as attic space. He preferred the large hallway, with stunning red carpets laid across the entire area. The windows were made of translucent glass, letting light filter through ever so slightly, just enough light to illuminate the area. The light fell on him, casted a dark silhouette of him over the bright patch of light.

Elegant paintings and handsome silver suits of armour were displayed proudly on either two side of the room. And of course there was the icing on the cake. All this lead to the fantastic white wedding cake of a ceiling, with an impressive golden chandelier hanging from it, looking as if it were extremely pleased with itself.

The castle was of course linked to the deep underground, where his loyal followers carried out his orders, and work. The coffee room there was fantastic, with gigantic bags of marshmallows, sugar, and the highest grade coffee beans all on the shelves. The coffee beans were specially obtained from his farms that were spread all over the world, in whatever region it could be grown.

Making his way to his throne, he sat down grandly, as a king would sit upon his position. “Why is the Titan of Sin so agitated over an ordinary kid?” He pondered.

He sighed, throwing his head back gently. His dark bangs shuffled themselves peacefully, as the wind crept through the openings in his windows and into his santctuary.

His face wore a perpetual smile, a rare smile seen by one maybe twice or thrice in a lifetime. It was a smile that radiated confidence, purity, and of course charisma.

However, what lay behind those eyes were sadness, and an eternal loneliness that could never be satisfied.

“If only you were still here…brother…” Anger raised its ugly head, as he remembered how his brother had untimely met his demise.

“You shouldn’t have done it…You should have just let him died…” He muttered.

He stopped himself, feeling the rush of tears to his eyes. Would his wounded soul ever find solace? He shook off the saddening thoughts.

Slowly, he rose to his feet. “Time to go to the armory,” he thought. Sparring was the best way to clear his mind. Acquiescence awaited him there.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….


Her ponytail bobbed about restlessly as she leapt from tree to tree. With incredible grace, she landed on a branch, landing softly like a cat, before her strong yet slender legs pushed off against it, pouncing unto the next branch. It was simply mesmerizing to watch the fluidity in her movements.

“I have to get there as soon as possible!” she thought urgently, dashing towards her destination.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

“I see that your skills are improving...” The hooded figure whispered.

Laran was caught aback. The voice was somewhat familiar.

“Who are you?”

“There is no need for you to know. Just watch.”

The figure spread apart his arms. His cloak opened, to reveal a dark mass of objects clinging tightly to it.

“Enjoy the show. But learn from it. Improve. We need you.” The voice was crisp and authoritative. Laran swore he heard a slight crackling in his voice.

The bats flew at Laran, en masse, their glittering black wings filling up his vision. Laran rolled to one side…to realize that they weren’t attacking him. They swarmed over onto the cold, limp body of the Tauromacis.

“Rise. Darkness Reborn!” The necromancer whispered, as he raised both hands. Laran noticed that his hands were empty. This was no ordinary necromancer to perform magic bare-handed.

The bats seemed to dissolve into the Tauromacis’ body. The motionless body started to rise, a graphite surface spreading quickly over its skin.

“What in the world…” Laran was completely shocked. Usually when undead were summoned, their skin was a pale grey. Also, they could be summoned out without the use of bats, so why did the necromancer specially choose to use bats?

The Tauromacis was now on its feet, body completely covered by the hardening graphite. It’s eyes were completely white, and saliva was drooling from his jaws. It took a step forward, and Laran could actually see the torn tendons somewhat reattaching themselves, tying a disgustingly ugly knot. The gaping hole in its chest healed instantly, leaving a deep scar where the wound used to me.

Laran frowned. The situation didn’t look good at all. He glanced at the necromancer. He was standing about 10 metres away, hands tightly folded, like a mentor watching his pupil.

“Darn, he’s too far away for me to directly attack him…” Laran cursed.

The Tauromacis growled, a reminder to Laran about its ugly presence. Laran took a fresh grip on Rejection, his Terran eyes focusing. Grabbing its crescent-shaped spear, the Tauromacis charged at Laran. Mysteriously, Laran felt as if it were easier to use his Terran eyes than before, although he had already expended quite an amount of energy.

As his mind started to drift off to wonder about explanations for the phenomenon, Laran willed himself to concentrate. A rampaging Tauromacis and a separate formidable opponent was no laughing matter.

Laran was used to the tauromacis’ movement. He estimated the number of steps the Tauromacis had left to take before he would be in range to counter-attack, confident that his experience in the previous battle would help.

“3 Steps left.” Laran thought silently. He was ready to unleash a Tempest Slash just as the tauromacis landed in front of him.

One. It bounded powerfully, its legs completely disregarding the fact that its tendons had just recovered. There was still well over 3 metres between them…

Two. Laran closed his eyes and summoned arcane energy, something that was getting more and more difficult, due to his stamina pool being drained. He opened his eyes, to the shock of his life.

The Tauromacis was right in front of him, ready to pounce. At the next moment, he was instantly pinned down, the tauromacis raising its fist. Laran instantly panicked, trying to jerk himself out of the unfavourable position. He was too slow, as the crescent spear slammed into his shoulder, squeezing his entire right arm into the ground. A jab of pain shot up his arm. Damn! It must have been dislocated!

Lightning quick, the Tauromacis slammed its fist straight into Laran’s stomach. Still reeling from the previous blow, this one took Laran completely off guard. Crimson spit flew as he gasped for air.

“A monster revived by the Darkness can draw on twice of its physical limit. It breaks almost every limit normally imposed on its body, even healing it somewhat. However of course, it loses most of its intelligence and the body is useless afterwards. But for this Tauromacis…heh, I’ve already weakened it specially for you.” The necromancer whispered. Laran thought he could sense arrogance in the man’s voice. What a bastard.

“I’ll leave you to it. Survive this…and I’ll see to it that you are rewarded.” The necromancer flung his cloak around him, and bats immediately crowded, obstructing him from view. Then, he was gone.

The Tauromacis snarled, and with its muscular forearms, closed around Laran’s waist. Trying to muster enough energy to strike back, he attempted to break free of its iron clasp, but his struggling was to no avail.

Its forearms bulged, and its veins looked like they were going to pop, just as Laran felt his waist compress painfully. He clenched his teeth, hoping to fight through the pain, but it was useless. His ribcage felt like it was caving in, his arms shook and Rejection slipped from his grip, falling softly onto the dusty ground. Laran’s sweat streaked face grimaced. The pain was so great that he was starting to black out. The blurring of the vision was getting worse, as the world and its colours swirled around. The synchronization meter dropped to 0%, and his Terran eyes dissipated. Laran’s strength ebbed away, as the world disappeared before his eyes.

Then, blissful darkness.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

The girl had reached her destination. Perched onto a rather large tree branch, she scanned the area. She could only see 1 person there, what happened to the other one that she sensed? Her mind however, snapped out of its wondering to alert her. That teenage boy was getting crushed by that Darkness Reborn Tauromacis!

She quickly drew her shiny new weapon. Although she had grinded quite some levels with it, she still hadn’t perfected her rapport with it yet. Synchronization! Hawkeye! She willed herself, without a single sound.

“Help has arrived.” She whispered softly.

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The following is from Laran’s POV.

Where…am I? I was surrounded by darkness. For a brief second, I was disoriented, before my mind descended to the state of relaxation. It was just so peaceful here.

My head hurt. I gently massaged it, when I noticed that the Tauromacis was gone! So was the nerve-wrecking pain present in my shoulder and stomach! I felt good. Was this death? With the pain numbed, and the stress removed, I was actually starting to enjoy myself.

I squinted at a point of light in the distance. I slowly trotted over to it, enjoying the soothing glow that it provided. I was captivated by its simple beauty, swaying from side to side while approaching it.

“Are you really giving up now?” a voice sounded out. It seemed to be coming out from the beam of light. It sounded a lot like Rejection.

“I didn’t train you to be so weak!” another voice spoke up. It was Glen’s! Before I could shout out in defiance, to let him know that it wasn’t my fault, another voice chipped in.

“Use the sword…from within.” A third voice, Makoto’s, joined in, like tunes mixing together in a melody.

My expression twisted to one of embarrassment. That line was just pure cheesy.

And suddenly, a deep, powerful voice disrupted them all. “Survive. And fufill your destiny. Or else.” Instantly, the voice stroked a chord of fear that resonated deep within me. At that moment, I was actually more afraid of the person…or thing rather than my actual death.

The ground then shook violently,

A huge explosion seemed to have occurred outside of the light.

“Go. Now!” the voice commanded me like a puppet.

The next thing I knew, I was yanked uncontrollably to the light, sprinting towards it, arms outstretched, my legs pumping up and down, and I leapt towards it…

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End of Laran’s POV.

The Tauromacis snorted in disgust at the corpse. It felt a sense of pride, having literally come back from the grave to take sweet revenge. It bellowed loudly, a resounding battle cry that challenged anyone in proximity to hear it. It grinned, its mouth twisting into a broken mess of teeth and blood. Time to finish the job.

It lifted its foot high over that pathetic human. He would literally be in shreds soon.

Its moment of glory was promptly ended, when four arrows sailed, burying themselves into the Tauromacis’ left shoulder. They were barely three centimeters apart. Its eyes widened as it saw what type of arrow they were. Meaty hands scrambled, desperately trying to remove it when…

Boom. The noise of the explosion was deafening.

The Tauromacis stumbled forward, thick, dense black smoke sprouting from the wound. The combined explosion of the three Arrow Bombs had torn a hole in the graphite armour, and blood was steadily trickling down it. It groaned, stumbling forward with the aid of its spear. The damage wasn’t fatal, but it still hurt.

A glint of light appeared before the Tauromacis. A split-second later, a solid spear of lightning speared through the Tauromacis’ left shoulder. Its eyes widened, completely taken aback.

“So you can feel pain after all. Hell Spawn.” Laran emerged from the smoke, tightly clutching the lightning spear protruding from his palm. It was an extension of him, electrical currents flowing straight from his body to the spear, and vice versa.

Laran’s body coursed with electrical energy. He had never felt so powerful. His Terran Eyes swirled around, and evolved. It was now a dark swirl of blood red and charcoal black, leaving no pupils at all to be seen. He looked like a demon.

The following is from Laran’s POV.

I felt my eyes itch yet again, just like the time when I was fighting Glen. This time, I released the itch as soon as possible, grasping for new power. It felt good. I felt comfortable with the surges of power. I wanted more. To never feel threatened again. To discover more about my past. To do that, I needed power.

I felt rejuvenated, refreshed. Although my right arm hung limp by my side, I still had my left, clutching tightly to that powerful spear.

I had no idea how that lightning spear had materialized. But I didn't care. All I wanted was revenge. On the monster that caused me so much pain.

End of Laran’s POV.

Laran drew the spear out smoothly, and with one swift, smooth action, violently slashed across the chest of the Tauromacis. The lightning seemed to possess life of its own, ravenously chomping into the graphite, tearing it apart. Bits and pieces of flesh flew out from the Tauromacis’ massive chest, prompting it to grunt in pain. The flesh split, and unveiled scarlet red.

“I’m surprised you can feel pain. You should’ve just stayed dead!” Laran charged. Confidence flooded Laran, as he flexed his arm, lightning crackling ferociously.

The Tauromacis howled in pain, and thrust its spear at Laran, lightning crackling from it.

“With these eyes, you are now no match for me!” Laran growled, without breaking a stride.

Laran riposted fearlessly, drawing in more electrical energy from the Tauromacis’ attack. Absorbing it effortlessly into his pure lightning spear, Laran blasted a wave of electricity straight at the Tauromacis’ face. Although the helmet was enough to deter some of the damage, it nevertheless blinded the Tauromacis, leaving it scratching at its eyes in a frenzy.

“Fry in hell.” Laran whispered menancingly.

He aggressively stabbed the Tauromacis’ stomach, piercing straight through it. And summoning the reserves of his energy, he released his arcane energy through the lightning spear. The spear bulged and pulsed, as its voltage increased drastically. The lightning cut deep into the Tauromacis’ flesh, and spread across its body like a virulent virus. The graphite conducted the electricity well, but it was a pity that flesh did not.

The Tauromacis’ shook uncontrollably, as it lost all control over it body. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air, as the electricity tore the Tauromacis apart. Laran snarled, and with exhilaration, withdrew his lightning spear, having it recede deep into his body.

The Tauromacis stood still for a moment…before spectacularly crashing onto the floor. That bloody corpse recoiled, sparks jumping through its body like a shark in the ocean, having devoured its prey. It was a gruesome sight.

Laran’s eyes reverted back to normal, and he too fell unto the floor, gasping for air greedily. He had exhausted himself, past his limits. The bloodlust that had previously possessed him like an angry spirit had left, leaving him as he truly was; a tired, weak teenager.

He coughed, flakes of blood flying out. The taste of copper spread across his mouth.

The girl, still crouching on the tree, was at the same time, amazed and shocked. She had never seen a person materialize a weapon out of their arcane energy. Advanced magicians could do it, but they could only sustain it for a few seconds, before flinging it at an enemy as a ranged weapon! Wielding an arcane energy weapon…it was just a legend!

And those eyes…they were not human. She could sense the evil suppressed inside them. But those thoughts would have to come later. The first thing she would have to do was to heal him.

And with her shiny new red viper hanging tight to her back, she leapt down the tree, landing without any impact whatsoever.

She examined the Tauromacis to ensure that it was dead. Its heart was no longer beating, and its body was so badly damaged that it wouldn’t be able to stand up ever again. She noticed something that didn’t quite fit in. Why were there splashes of dark arcane energy over it? It looked as if…a curse had been cast on the Tauromacis to weaken it. From the rotting flesh, she assumed that it must have already been weakened severly before its battle.

A sharp gasp from behind prompted her to spin around, hurrying over to the severely weakened teenager.

Laran lay there, crumpled in a heap, barely breathing. He was suffering from over-exerting himself, his heart, lungs, muscles all working feverishly to keep him alive. His will to live was extraordinary.

He felt a vial being pushed in between his lips, and the warm, bitter liquid entered his mouth. Recognizing it as the bitter taste of an elixir, he grudgingly swallowed.

He felt strength flood back into his body, like a tsunami being held back by floodgates. The comforting warmth spread across his body, the healing properties of the elixir being passed through his bloodstream.

In no time, he sat up, back propped up against a tree. It was then that he saw this girl inspecting him curiously.

“And who exactly are you?”

The girl flicked her head backwards, sending her short hair swinging back. Her gray eyes stared right at Laran’s deep black ones. His eyes looked tired and seemed to stretch on endlessly. The scar that stretched across his left cheek made him seem more vulnerable than menancing.

Laran was also inspecting this strange girl. A white bandanna sat on top of her head proudly, a tight form-fitting green Piettras around her torso. A matching green Piettra Skirt was displayed prominently. Yellow Pierre shoes fitted her nicely, and a pair of slender hands were hidden behind her gloves; Gold Scalers, snugly wrapping around her hands. She couldn’t have been more two years older than him.

“How did she get her equipment to be green?” Laran’s mind wondered.

“She dyed it you fool.” Rejection mumbled.

She cleared her throat, as if to attract Laran’s ever shortening attention span, before declaring loudly.

“Just call me Clora. I’m your older ‘sister’.”

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Somewhere far away, Raccious stirred. He could not believe what he just saw. It was like a vision… or was it just a dream? A migraine came suddenly, overwhelming him.

“It’s been getting worse…ever since I met Laran…” Raccious’ fists clenched tightly, fighting through the pain…

He felt as if he was losing control over himself.

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“Excellent. The boy has potential. He will make a good pawn.” A dark voice chortled with laughter.

“I told you so.” A smirk was explicitly heard, carried in a giggling voice.

“Aren’t you ashamed to wear a heart so white on your sleeve?”

“Not at all. My lord. I thank you…for the power that you have granted me. Dura will be safe with me.”

“I have absolute trust in you. My fool of a daughter was always too rebellious anyway.”

“Sorry my lord, but I must leave immediately to attend to business. Kingsley is about to appoint the Gatekeeper to protect Pandora’s Gate.”

“Go.”

And with a flutter, she was gone, leaving gray feathers behind in her wake.

Chapter 9

“Ready?”

“I’ve been ready for this since I watched Naruto!”

“Fine. You do know that this is the last time I’m helping you right?”

“Yes yes, just get it over with, Lana.”

“I implore you to reconsider. You look retarded enough already.”

“Nuh uh. I’m sure about this.”

There was a flash of a permanent black marker, as bold strokes swiped across Xenious’ right cheek. In a split-second, the black marker skidded across Xenious’ left cheek. It was out of control, sliding and slipping. Lana’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, sweat rolled down her forehead, got into her eyes and… It was done.

Xenious picked up a mirror and looked at himself. Excellent. He was now an exact replica of Naruto, having the marker drawn whiskers, the ridiculously orange jumpsuit, and of course the prized headband slung over his head in a rather fashionable way.

He cleared his throat.

“Im a Naruto Dattebayo!”.

Lana cringed. Her husband was painfully childish and immature at times.

“Ok, now that we’re done with this crap, can we move on to talking about that boy? Laran was it?” She asked irritably.

“Ah, yes.” Xenious’ face no longer bore that look of sheer stupidity.

The atmosphere was noticeably tenser.

“He is definitely not normal. Whether it is for the better or the worse, I have no idea. Even for a Chosen, he is warped!” Lana quipped.

“I feel that there is something lurking inside him, other than Rejection and his own soul, there is an additional invader. I think Glen must have noticed this as well, that’s why he told me that he had given Laran the Scroll of Perseverance”

“Scroll of Perseverance?”

“Yes. It is used to test the person’s willpower, and to free them of their impurities.”
“So you are betting that that scroll would help us find out what the problem with Laran is?”

“Indeed.”

“What do you intend to teach Laran next?”

Xenious paused, considering the question. The only thing that he truly specialized in was the manipulation of spirits. Other than that, he was considered rather useless.

“Nothing. The bird has to leave its nest.” His face twisted into a slight small, before messaging Laran.

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Beep Beep.

Laran checked his cellphone, to find a message from Xenious telling him to stop leeching on his supplies and asking him to seek training elsewhere.

“…” Laran was unhappy with his harsh attitude.

“So. Why aren’t you wearing any proper armour for protection? You are a warrior right?” Clora quizzed Laran curiously.

“It restricts my movement, it’s uncomfortable, and most importantly, any armour that I can wear now looks fugly.” Laran stated in a matter-of-factly way.

“Hmm…” Clora scanned his level. He was only about level 41, but he had great potential hidden within him. All he needed was a good mentor, and of course proper equipment. She looked over at his weapon that he clutched tightly. She had never actually seen that type of weapon before.

This boy was just full of surprises.

But then again, at level 43. she wasn’t exactly the best person to mentor him. She would just have to stick around with him and find out more…

“Hey big sis, why are you still using that Red Viper? Isn’t the Vaulter 2000 more powerful?” Laran inquired.

A bittersweet feeling arose from her heart.

“Its none of your business!” she snapped.

Laran was clearly taken aback from her violent outburst. He quickly changed the topic.

“So where are we going to next huh?”

“A cave nearby. Right now we are at the edge of both Panon and Esuna. There’s something I need to pick up. In order to reach the cave, we’ll be progressing deeper into Esuna.”

She set off immediately, her back facing him. Laran grumbled something about her aloofness, before jogging to catch up with her.
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Glen was hard at work, training aspiring warriors at the training range. As he taught them the basics of Power Strike, his mind wandered over to Laran.

The boy certainly had a couple of truly unique techniques. Half magician, half warrior, what WAS he? Could he possibly be of the mythical hybrid class? The conditions that were needed to be taken to become a hybrid were incredibly difficult to fufill, and achieving hybrid class meant that one would have to take huge risks.

“Oldie Glen! Oldie Glen!” a young apprentice, no more than 12 years old ran over to Glen.

“Wait wait, who the heck are you calling Oldie Glen? 20 push-ups, now!” Glen’s ego was understandably bruised. He liked to cling on to the idea that he was still a fit, albeit older man.

20 push-ups later, the apprentice was up, huffing and puffing. “Oldi-err, I mean Master Glen, Dances with Balrog wants to meet you. Its about Operation Revival.”

Glen grabbed his swords immediately, hastily making his way to Dances with Balrog’s hut. “So, it has begun…” Glen thought, a mixture of excitement and dread flooding him.

“So.” Dances with Balrog faced Glen as he entered. “I have managed to secure the services of Manji; that warrior that enjoys hanging around in the outskirts of Panon. He will be a great help in Operation Revival.”

“Can you guarantee his allegiance to us?” Glen remembered Manji as a shifty-eyed combat veteran. He had felt bad vibes coming from him.

“Trust needs to be earned Glen. Now, let us commence Operation Revival in 2 hours, when the sun sets. The next time it rises, the purging will have been complete. Panon will be no more.” Dances with Balrog spoke confidently, pride and determination radiating from him.

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Laran was blind. The pitch black darkness was eerie. Stirges screamed, as they swarmed overhead, throwing Laran into a jittery mood. Clora had rushed ahead, leaving him alone and defenseless.

Laran felt the ever growing urge to flee surface again in his mind. It was hard to admit it, but he was scared. Pushing away the thoughts of failure and feelings of despair, Laran calmly sat down, brainstorming of solutions to the lighting problem.

“Ah!” Laran voiced out loud. He concentrated his arcane energies, trying to produce the lightning spear again. He could visualize it in his mind, but when he tried to make it materialize, the image would slip out of his grasp, frustrating him immensely. It was pointless to continue, so Laran compromised. He formed a crackling ball of electricity by clenching his left fist, which helped to light up the cave to a small extent.

It seemed that he could only wield the lightning spear when he had enough mastery of his arcane energy, something that emerged during a life and death scenario.

Light emanated from the electricity, as Laran progressed through the cave. He was making good progress, when he stopped abruptly, taken aback by what lay in front of him.

The cave had spread out to form a huge grey dome. Its diameter was about 400 metres wide, with stalagmites and stalactites protruding in various places, made out of solid rock. There was a small lake in the middle of the dome, gracefully sparkling, as if happy to be the icing of the cake, the part that beautified the dome. It was a magnificent example of natural structures.

Laran took a step, admiring nature in all its splendor when…he saw it. That big ugly spiral shaped structure suspended high above the ground. It was a massive stirge hive. The sign of it sent a resounding message echoing through Laran’s mind “Mind your own business.” Laran slowly maneuvered himself around the hive, spotting an additional tunnel behind the hive.

“This’ll be an excellent test for my new babies…yeah yeah.” A mysterious voice giggled.

Laran twisted around, to see a slender figure crouching near him. His heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t noticed her presence at all.

“Yeah yeah! Adamatium Advarice…check. Synchronization…check. Haste...” she seemed to be going through a list.

“You want haste too yeah yeah? Taking on the hive’ll be pretty difficult.”

Laran felt his physical weight decrease exponentially, while simultaneously, felt his heart plummet, as his amazingly slow mind realized what she was going to do. It was a unique feeling.

Before he could protest, the feisty girl sprinted towards the hive, something that could very possibly be the thing that would kill them.

Laran looked down, and sighed. He gripped onto Rejection, taking long strides towards the hive. He sure as hell didn’t want to die alone.

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“Lucky Seven! Lucky Seven!” that strong yet feminine voice rang out, as four kumbis glided through the air elegantly, before ripping apart four stirges.

“Tempest…Hurricane!” Laran unleashed the pent-up arcane energy, letting it explode into whips of fierce wind, which cut deeply into many stirges.

He took a breath of air. Although it was still difficult to use Tempest Hurricane, his stamina had increased over the last few grueling days.

“Synchronization!” Laran activated Rejection’s hidden prowess, transforming it into the sleek one-handed sword. With Haste and Synchronization, Laran felt as if he were floating on air.

“Terran!” His eyes flashed, as they swirled to form the demonic Terran Eyes. A familiar feeling of security came back to him, as he grinned in spite of the situation he was in.

The stirges rushed at him, forming an arrowhead formation, their shrill voices squealing what seemed to be death threats. Laran ran in the opposite direction, away from them. He tensed himself, kicked off from the ground, his inertia propelling his body towards the wall. Curling his legs, he looked like he was squatting sideways on the wall. Straining himself slightly, he sent small stone rubbles falling off as he gathered energy in his legs, pushing off, flying towards the stirges.

Adrenaline pumping from the acrobatic stunt he accomplished, Laran took a fresh two-handed grip on Rejection, preparing to unleash hell on the stirges.

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Yeah, chapter 9 is half written lol. Review!