《As We Knew It》 Prologue I guess I really need to do this, so here¡¯s the ¡® prologue ¡®. ¡­. ¡°So¡­ what do you want?¡± ¡°Something.¡± ¡°What¡¯s something?¡± ¡°¡­ Well, obviously, you lack the mental power to put the pieces together, so I¡¯ll do it for you; What would you feel, if you were locked in a box, endless, full of nightmares, full of monsters beyond comprehension, and your only entertainment is watching the great life of others around you. What would you feel? Why would you seethe?¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Jealousy.¡± ¡±No, try again.¡± ¡°¡­ Hate?¡± ¡±No.¡± ¡°I give up. Tell me.¡± ¡°The simple answer is that you wouldn¡¯t. Your mind would be broken, insane, incapable of emotions; All you would do, is do what you do best. Kill. Search, kill, repeat. Dimensional gates open and shut, leading more of yourself through, to continue doing what you do best.¡± ¡±So, they¡¯re all insane?¡± ¡°Not all. Some grew. Became more powerful to ward off the nightmares and insanity, and became revered. But they hated.¡± ¡°So what do they do?¡± ¡°They play their hand, and maneuver their strings on the little wooden dolls that like to sit in black rooms and answer questions.¡± 1 / The Orchestra of the Soul On the TV, continuous monologuing of the reporters was incessant. Their irritatingly excited voices chanted about the events unfolding, countless¡­ things coming through dimensional rips, killing people and destroying everything. Bullets rattled off in the background, alongside many other sounds. Namely two loud blasts from a shotgun, an inhumane screech, and a scream. Then it gets abruptly cut off by a crunch. Their smiles faded instantly as one walked up to the camera and demanded it be shut off. While that happened, viewers across the country and globe could see something behind them while the cameraman and reporters babbled, silently stalking up toward them. Its fleshy body was silently gliding through the air, slowly morphing, transforming into a monster, two horns extending from its skull made from amalgamated human parts, mostly bones. It had the body of some quadruped animal, but which one was indecipherable. As it walked up, it¡¯s eyes glowed, initiating a crunch somewhere behind the camera. Then one more, and after that, screaming was heard. Begging for forgiveness, the female reporter¡¯s voice slowly got quieter as she tried to scramble away, only to get inevitably crunched, too. Whatever the crunching even was. The thing walked up to the camera, staring into it. While it did, something landed on the road a bit behind it, moving at insane speeds toward the entity. While it turned, a weapon slashed through the air, arcing through it flawlessly and deftly decapitating the entity. The TV cut to static after that, leaving Xander stunned and staring at the distorting screen with wide eyes. His ears rang in the newfound silence of the room, finally placing him back in reality. He got up, stretched his arms, and looked forward. He could hear something outside. The sound was high-pitched, like a siren or a shrill scream. He got up, moving slightly to the side and looking through the window. A black blur suddenly got bigger from the background, shooting into the foreground and blasting the window into a million pieces. Glass shards shot straight into his eye, half-blinding him while the rest of the shards sliced and pierced his skin. Arms up, protecting his head, Xander fell backward, ramming back-first into a table containing various vases, pictures in their frames and other such things. All of it was flung straight up as the legs of the table collapsed under the pressure, launching half of its contents straight forward. The table hit the wall, reverberating the force back into Xander. He placed one hand on the glass-covered ground and got up, retreating further back into a hallway, grabbing whatever he could from the table next to him and raising it while he kept one eye shut. He couldn¡¯t even tell what it was. Might have been a fire poker. Whatever it was, it felt sturdy enough to hit whatever was standing in his doorway. As the weaponry he¡¯d acquired arced through the air, it avoided it without any semblance of effort and backhanded him. The attack was caught by his hand, but the weapon flung out of it and hit him in the head on its way to the ground. Xander¡¯s desperation pushed him to launch his fist in a fit of power toward its head, as if he hadn¡¯t just done that but with a weapon, and collided with the palm of its hand. He felt the plating, almost like fiberglass, and his fist cracked when it made contact. He retreated, watching it follow him and move to block his path. Without an obvious path to escape from, he engaged again, this time faking another punch and just barely slipping beneath its counterattack and standing in the doorway. Looking back, he saw its hand get lodged in the doorframe, then its eyes lock onto him. The doorframe became his grip while he flung himself outside, losing balance quickly. He tucked and rolled, hitting the ground smoothly and narrowly avoiding the concrete patio. His slides got flung off as he did, both getting stuck in the tree above him while he refused to look back and locked himself into a dead sprint for his life. Whether or not it was still after him was a mystery after five minutes, but despite that, he slowed to a stop and hunched over. Each breath hurt. His eye hurt worse, though. Opening it, he found that it was useless either way. The scratch was really deep and his vision out of that eye was essentially nonexistent with how blurry it was. Xander turned around and looked behind himself. The figure was nowhere to be found. But he could feel it, in the darkness of the night. ¡­ Xander¡¯s back laid against a tree. Did he feel safe? No. Not at all. But at least he was somewhat hidden and out of populated areas. Nonstop alerts on his phone about an all-out ¡®invasion¡¯ of planet Earth, texts from friends. He was overloaded with information. Despite all that, though, he¡¯d yet to receive a test from his parents. Worry settled in his heart when he realized that. For good measure, he sent them both a few texts and let that sit while he pulled a solar-charging power bank and charger from his back-pocket and plugged his phone into it. The only reason he had it was because he was preparing to go on a field trip the next day and didn¡¯t want to forget his stuff, but somehow forgot about it after picking it up to place it somewhere he wouldn¡¯t forget and holding it in his pocket while he did so. The lights on it blinked, all five, signaling a full charge. His phone lit up and began recharging. He looked up, exhaling a stream of white air in the cold atmosphere. Alright. What do I have? Phone, power bank, charger¡­ clothes¡­ and that¡¯s it. Wow. Can¡¯t say I expected better of myself, though. A sigh came out instinctively. He brushed his hair off to the side of his forehead a little, wiping off a coat of sweat despite the freezing weather. He was in a thick hoodie and jeans, though, so he assumed it would be fine, aside from his feet. And eye. His bare socks were already ripped and had been soaked. Not to mention his eye¡¯s condition. Taking the socks off, he tossed them to the side and got up, moving back toward town down the path. Help was what he needed. He got his phone out, dialed 911, and got what he expected. No response. The emergency operators were probably overloaded with calls with now. Xander then tried to dial a friend. Once again, to no avail. The next few minutes consisted of continuous dialing of his whole contacts list. Most people he called ended up answering but being hunkered down or were probably dead and didn¡¯t answer. And he was down to his last contact in under a minute. It was an ¡®Avery¡¯, with a profile picture of a girl he didn¡¯t recognize. But, without hesitation, his finger fell upon the call button and he waited for about one second before the phone was answered. ¡°Xander! Why are you calling me now?¡± She asked angrily. Xander stopped on the path and lifted the phone to his ear. ¡°I need help. Can you come get me?¡± Tires squealed on the other side of the call. Indistinct yelling, the rough maneuvering of a manual gear shift and the roar of an engine came over the phone before an answer. And even after she tried to, somebody interrupted her. ¡°Where?¡± She asked. Xander checked his maps, they exchanged locations and then hung up, leaving him in silence while sitting on a sidewalk. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. While he sat in silence, feet tingling and stinging with pain, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows menacingly. Xander¡¯s one eye instantly recognized it. The thing¡¯s body was covered in black plating. It had two insect-like appendages on its forearms, alongside a thick covering of the shoulders and upper back. The rest was lightly armored. Its aura was dark. The area seemed to lose lighting as it got closer to Xander while the panic set in on him. A thousand thoughts filled his mind with desperation and adrenaline lined his blood vessels, a golden light to his life that supercharged him and his rushing emotions of anger, fear and hate. In a burst of energy, Xander shot forward, feeling something metallic and staff-like form in his hands. He swung it upward and back down, watching the entity casually avoid the attacks. But he kept going, until on one slam, it became lodged in the pavement. He grabbed it and pulled, the force throwing him back once he retrieved it. While he was off balance, it rushed at him, appendages shooting forward and their blades attempting to cleave him in two with a shimmer of silver from the previously hidden cutting edge. Using the thing in his hands, he knocked both of the appendages upward and used the weapon¡¯s butt to slam into the thing¡¯s chin. When he came back down with the crystal ball thing on the top of it, the entity grabbed it with a newfound speed and punched him in the gut, following it up with a knee to the same spot that knocked him backwards. His breath left him while he dropped to the ground, holding his lungs, trying to breathe. It felt like it wasn¡¯t working, and he would die because his lungs collapsed, but in an instant of hope, he took a deep gasp and swung the weapon with incredible force at it. It used its palm to hit it aside, then used the same palm to go for a hit on his head. Xander used the scepter to make the attack slide across him, barely avoiding it. He moved his grips higher on the scepter, swinging the bottom at its stomach and using the top to bludgeon its head in. He couldn¡¯t notice earlier, but when he got close, he saw a face with normal human parts, but two large pincers extending from the base of the jawline. It used the pincers to deflect the attack, restraining his arms and lunging forward with the pincers, attempting to take a chunk of his neck out. Extending his arms to push it back, Xander then ducked slightly, yanking it into an onrush, shoulder first, hitting it straight in the unarmored neck. Unfortunately, a pincer got caught on his eye socket, getting ripped off as he shot forward and inevitably completely eradicating his eye beyond repair. Its glowing green blood flowed from the pincer wound, but while it was still stunned, Xander readied a swing with his scepter and slammed the orb on it straight into the entity¡¯s other pincer and knocked it off, breaking another plate of its armor on its cheek and embedding the shards in its head. It screeched after he did that, and did not look happy. Second phase? Really? Both of its appendages came undone, extending to full length. From its right hand, a stinger about the size of a bayonet emerged. That giant spike and the two flying blades would probably make this fight a whole lot harder. Xander raised his scepter to ready, watching it crouch slightly and lunge at him, stinger outstretched. He deflected it with the scepter, but two appendages were flung his way. He dodged backward, watching its left hand approach him. Thankfully, it lacked a stinger, but it was a fist and accelerated too quickly to dodge. The scepter made it just in time, its metal shaft protecting Xander from the punch that reverberated in the metal. He swung it back at the entity, not expecting the stinger to eject a high-pressure stream of a toxic yellow liquid at him. He barely avoids it, but after doing so, two appendages swing in on him. One snags on his hoodie after he tried to deflect and counter, canceling his counterattack while he uses his hand to rip its appendage¡¯s blade from his clothing. The other appendage slices downward, making a deep gash in his upper arm when he tries to dodge. Thankfully, however, after he removed the appendage from his clothes, he slammed the scepter down onto the extended appendage while it was stuck in his arm, using one leg to kick the entity away and make enough tension on it to rip it off of the entity, while holding the scepter in a hand he was also ripping with. It screeched again, stinger coming for his chest. He saw it coming. In a swift movement, he uses the scepter to deflect it and dodge backward, grabbing the appendage from his arm and holding it with the hurt one to dual wield weapons. The entity screeched again, recklessly diving for him once again with its stinger. Xander uses the appendage to slice at the entity¡¯s hand, and it only barely manages to scratch its armor while another stream of the yellow liquid nearly dissolves his arm. In a rare moment of solitude, right after that move, he stares at the opponent, trying to find something in its eyes. Nothing but hate. It swings an appendage at him, but as it does so, Xander swings the ripped appendage, albeit slowly and weakly, at its eyes. It avoids it relatively easily, but as it moves back, he swings the scepter with one hand, in a downward arc like an axe, making a crushing blow on its head, essentially turning it to mush. Its black armor and skin are stained green and yellow with a blood red undertone from Xander¡¯s own bleeding body. And then, as if nothing had happened, a plume of white, cold air came from his mouth and two lights of a car approached him slowly, cautiously pulling to a stop while the scepter¡¯s crystal ball or orb or whatever it is, a stone or something, shone with a dim glow, oddly lighting up a massive area. ¡°What happened?¡± Xander looked down, then grabbed his eye, feeling the massive gash across his socket. It was closed when it got caught on the thing¡¯s pincer. He was pretty sure he¡¯d probably have to get it out sooner or later so it didn¡¯t get infected, especially in the cold weather. ¡°I, uhhh¡­¡± He said, trying to figure out what to say or do. ¡°I guess I killed this thing?¡± He said. She, and the other girl in the car, gazed at the entity bug-monster¡¯s dead body lying on the ground. And it¡¯s appendage in his hand, and the numerous wounds. ¡°Why¡­ no, how did you kill it?¡± Avery asked. Xander was going to answer, but stopped, then thought about it. He had no idea how. But he knew he wanted to leave. ¡°Can we go?¡± ¡­ Everything burned. All of it. His feet hurt like never before when he got in the shower. The burning sensation was incredibly painful, but at least the frostbite was minimal. The cuts, the gashes, and especially his eye did not like the body wash. They hated it and so did he. The water, despite its moderate to high temperature, felt like a stream of lava was falling onto his wounds and searing them. That scepter¡­ I wonder where it went. After the fight, in the car, the scepter had just¡­ left. That was after he let go of it, though, and he already assumed it was something new and interconnected with him when it materialized in his hand. Regardless of magic scepters, Xander was beaten and battered, almost beyond recognition. A big, purple bruise on his gut had been left by that bug thing when it hit him and his arm still had the giant gash on it from its appendage lodging itself inside his arm. He still had that appendage now. Furthermore, his eye was turned to mush. Before he¡¯d gotten in the shower, removal was required, and I will elaborate no further on that subject. Other than that, he¡¯d doused his whole body in Basic H and rubbed it everywhere, and despite that, he didn¡¯t feel clean nor healthy. He¡¯d even took the liberty to wash his hair. Raising his arm to do that wasn¡¯t fun, but either way, he did it. Xander pulled the curtain open, looking at himself. Bruises were on his face and in other places he didn¡¯t remember getting hit. He guessed that it was probably from his maniacal swinging and disregard for safety, but upon further inspection, they were scratch marks. Nothing on the scepter could scratch him. Sighing, he dried himself off carefully and applied the bandages to his body even more carefully, tightening them off on his body to prevent further bleeding. He did have to loosen a few up after his limbs went numb, though. Really, his bandages were paper towels and athletic tape, but it¡¯s fine. Both were in high supply. Thankfully, his savior, Avery happened to be an athletic trainer (new and inexperienced) alongside her friend, a psychology major in college. He''d learned that from the useless small talk on the drive here After getting re-dressed in clothing that was not his, Xander emerged from the bathroom, half-mummified and with a hand over his eye. It had stopped bleeding for a while now. Not being able to blink was weird. The pain hadn¡¯t stopped, but all the other pains were somewhat canceling that specific one out. He assumed it would hurt the worst from the beginning, so that was nice. The setting was dark. The two were sitting there, at the table, both on their phones absent-mindedly. Xander¡¯s had been broken in the fight. Got flung out of his pocket and was crushed by him and the bug-man¡¯s collective efforts. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Xander asked. Avery and her friend glanced at him for a second, surprised by him, and looked back at their phones. They seemed a mix of worried and tired of something. ¡± Everything¡¯s shutting down. Department of Defense, Homeland Security, even private defense contractors are shutting down. The military¡¯s already getting punished, but there¡¯s rumors of a new branch emerging to repel the invasion.¡± Avery¡¯s friend said, sighing and yawning afterward. Bags laid under her eyes like damp hammocks. ¡±Invasion by what?¡± Xander inquired. She shrugged. He already had ¡®entities¡¯ in his head from the fight, since that seemed to be what he was fighting. Or maybe an anomaly, abnormality. Maybe a mistake. Something that shouldn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t, and won¡¯t exist but does, despite all that. ¡°Most people think they¡¯re aliens, but I think they¡¯re¡­ don¡¯t make fun of me for this, but something like demons or monsters. Y¡¯know?¡± ¡±Yeah. I get it... but I don''t really know what to think. I guess I just don''t know enough yet to decide what they are." "That''s fair." 2 / Into the Storm Okay. So, funny thing. The scepter or staff or whatever does a lot more than being a good mace. Xander stood, both hands grasping the shaft, and lifted it into the air, slamming it down. Instead of making a barrier or magic wall or whatever, the orb glimmered and released multiple shockwaves of energy in quick succession that knocked nearby things back with massive force. It even did damage if you were wearing anything with a rough texture. That attack could collapse buildings if he was close enough. Again, he stood, but this time, instead of slamming it down, he lifted it even higher and stretched it upward. That was apparently a ¡®call for help¡¯ card that let him summon a knight for protection that stayed until it died. Sadly for him, he couldn¡¯t have more than two active at a time. These bodyguards weren¡¯t actual people, though. They were just armor with a semi-transparent, spectral-looking body inside of it that lacked a face. Like a mannequin. Not to mention, it emitted light at all times and had a really wide radius. It looked to be ten feet in all directions. Really helped him during that fight. The entity or whatever he fought against blended really well with the darkness, so without it, he might not have survived. That was all he¡¯d found out. Swinging it around, slamming it into the ground, or throwing it had no effect except for being able to double as a mace in self-defense situations. However, as for the house they commandeered, it wasn¡¯t in good condition. They¡¯d accidentally made a hole in the wall and the floor. Plus shattering multiple pictures. The papers were, somehow, unharmed, and so they placed them back on the table in a neat stack. They were of a family, happy. Most of the pictures were taken in one place, somewhere that looked like an orchard. Xander looked around. These people had already evacuated. Most everything they had was gone. Only thing left was big furniture too big to carry, like the TV, and couches, recliners, alongside other padded, heavy things. The moon shone as it continued the large arc across the sky. The clock said four-fifteen. All he wanted to do was sleep. But the situation around him was too delicate to leave uncontrolled. ¡±What now?¡± He asked. Avery shrugged. The other girl was sleeping with her head on the table, silent. The night was also silent. It lacked any creaking of tree branches or bugs calling out, no cars flying by and no rumbling of leaves. It was odd. Then again, the whole night had been odd, and he wasn¡¯t a stranger to odd by now. Nobody answered his question. He sighed and made way over to the kitchen, going through mostly empty cabinets and finding tons of spices but almost nothing else. On the other side, he found a bag of Goldfish and one of those giant containers for Hawaiian Punch both sitting out on the counter. Neither had been opened and both containers showed no signs of tampering, so after he searched a little longer and locating another unopened bag of Goldfish (flavor blasted this time), he returned to them. Unsurprisingly, both had fallen asleep. Xander decided to wait out his hunger and went ahead with securing most of the entrances, minus a few windows, by putting broken / stolen boards lodged in place or just locking them, if they had a lock. All of the blinds were shut, and the curtains were pulled, negating all light-sources aside from the scepter, which he promptly sat in the center of the table, hidden beneath a magazine to as to somewhat dim the room. Even with all those preparations, Xander felt uncomfortable with sleeping. It has already been proven anything could go wrong at any time. Whenever he reminded himself of the guards, though, he just called two and let them patrol outside while he did finally get some well-deserved rest. ¡­ He awoke to the sound of silence and feeling of immense fear, and the physical feeling of being drenched in sweat. It wasn¡¯t great. The stranger¡¯s couch did not make for a good sleeping arrangement, and what made that worse was the fact they left their mattresses behind. All that time, on a couch, the other two in recliners, when they actually had beds. Wow. But, hey, can¡¯t complain about the fact he did actually sleep. Even though he only slept for two hours. It was the best two hours he¡¯d had in a long time, in fact, but waking up felt like hell. Especially considering his current state. So many spots were sore. So many. Even more spots that felt as if they were caught aflame in the shower last night. His left arm, which caught that appendage yesterday, didn¡¯t want to move. His right eye, as you already know, is no longer in commission. His gut hurt really bad, mainly because of the giant bruise there. Some of his body was burnt from the stinger¡¯s acid that had nicked him. The bandages, overnight, had been somewhat come off and revealed a pale pink color around most of the slashes. The one on his arm was also slightly bruised, so he figured that he¡¯d be refraining from using it for a bit. He grabbed the half-removed athletic tape and began to place more paper towels on it, until he thought about it and checked around the bathroom again. Any medkits could be helpful. Or something along those lines. While he considered it, though, he thought about it getting infected. The odds were already low as long as he kept it out of the cold. The other two had yet to wake up as Xander unwrapped his bicep from the black athletic tape. He put a stolen hoodie on, opening the door and feeling the cool air flow in. Not near as bad as yesterday night. What do I do now? He thought about that question for a good second. It had a variety of good answers. Go find out what¡¯s happening and stop it. Make a stronghold against these things. Gather a group and survive together. All of the answers seemed very ambitious, to say the least, but he felt like bringing anybody along with him would end up badly. Especially normal people. But, even if there were more people like him, what would they be doing? Probably not what he was. Power corrupts absolutely, after all, and especially when given to the right, or technically, wrong people. But what about himself? Did that rule apply to him, despite the fact he knew it well? Was he really any better than the norm? Wait. Is there any way I can get stronger? Or am I stuck here? He pondered over that for a second, too. It wouldn¡¯t make sense being like this. Some of these things, according to the government and photos taken in highly populated areas, were way stronger than a few knights and some shockwaves. He might could hit it, but it would be essentially negated. There¡¯s no way he could stay at this level. Not if he really wanted to be of some use in the future. If he did attempt to get stronger, he assumed it could be in some physical form. Maybe dead entities left behind some energy to absorb? No, that doesn¡¯t make sense. Then maybe it does come in the form of practice, study and training. He¡¯d initially found that conclusion to be stupid, considering this power he had and it¡¯s (possible) origin, which he assumed was from God, but seeing as how God made building muscle and intelligence the same way, it suddenly wasn¡¯t nearly as stupid as before.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. And now, back onto the topic of the girls. He had a few options, none of which he particularly liked. Leave them here, alone. Tell them he was leaving. Stay, stay for a little while and then leave. Each had its benefits. All of them had cons that outweighed those benefits. Pick your poison. He felt like waiting until they woke up, telling them he was leaving, and then going. The reason he wanted to leave was because he left like he had an obligation. One, to stay alive, and two, to help other people stay alive, and bringing some semi-useful people along the way seemed like more of a waste than a bonus. It slowed him down, firstly, and secondly, that¡¯s just adding two more innocent people to a dangerous situation, if he enters one. But he did feel like he somewhat owed them. ¡­ It wasn¡¯t a heartfelt goodbye. Just a good-luck old friend type of goodbye that had no emotion to it. Turns out Avery was his older brother¡¯s ex-girlfriend. They were dating for a good few years and they eventually became like siblings, but after her and his brother broke up, they stopped seeing each other at gatherings and events and just stopped texting each other at all. Anyway. Aside from that, they dropped him off at a gas station, gave themselves a full tank with that ex-gas station cashier experience and left. That whole altercation felt abrupt, like a bump in the road. Surprised all of them, but after, they forgot about it and left. As for his debt, they got to take his parent¡¯s gun. It was a shotgun, twelve gauge, and they also took a couple of shells. He didn¡¯t like that at all, but it was what they wanted, and they did help him recover. Even if for one day. He was left with a backpack that had a giant pack of water bottles and tons of gas station food. The backpack he¡¯d stolen from that house. It was a big one, a hiking backpack, and when he obtained it, it was empty. While that was annoying, it left him enough room for all of those waters and bags of chips, granola and protein bars, multiple lighters, beef jerky, and tons of other things to keep him satiated. The bag weighed a ton, though, so one of his bodyguards were drafted to carry it. ¡°Sir. If I may ask, where is your destination?¡± One asked, walking alongside him with a halberd hoisted on its back. Xander just shrugged as they continued down the road, waiting on a sign to tell him where in the world he was going. ¡±I guess we don¡¯t really have a destination. I just want to know how to get stronger, and once we do that, we can start to figure out what¡¯s really going on.¡± ¡±I see¡­ I myself do not know, but I believe that you will find what you seek.¡± He said obediently, one hand holding the solar-chargeable power bank and his phone beneath it. Xander nodded to him. The other bodyguard occasionally grunted with effort in a distorted voice while walking. The straps of the bag had to be adjusted for it to carry the bag properly because of the armor. Xander suggested removing it, but the knight explained that the armor is linked to the body within in. Removing a piece of the armor will remove the body part it protected. Can¡¯t say it made sense, but he understood. Xander cleared his mind of that and looked onto the road. There was a long way ahead to go. How far? He didn¡¯t know. All he had a was a feeling. A feeling that he hoped would lead him where he was needed. ¡­ An hour later, as they got nearer and nearer to wherever their destination was, the terrain subtly and slowly became colder and colder. The distance ahead of them was clouded over, and a dark fog set in. It wasn¡¯t that bad, but it was difficult to see any more than fifty feet ahead. Xander noticed this and pulled to a stop after noticing white specks in the fog, descending slowly. Is that ash? It continued descending. As he exhaled, the white plume made him realize just how cold it really was- it was snowing. The buildup was already evident in the pits to either side of the road, and it wasn¡¯t fog- it was just snowing that hard. And there was a figure in the distance. Approaching them. Xander¡¯s joints suddenly felt still. The cold had gotten to him faster than he¡¯d even noticed it was there. All of his muscles were stiff, and gripping the scepter, he wasn¡¯t sure if he could deal with another fight at all, let alone in this weather. Even with help. ¡°Get ready to dive on the ground if I try to use Shockwave, alright?¡± He asked. Both of the knight nodded and looked forward. The figure was approaching slowly, but now that they were visible, it was made obvious they weren¡¯t a ¡®figure¡¯. His mind boomed, almost making him flinch, with the words ¡®BLIZZARD INCARNATE¡¯. Why? He had no idea. But, as the snow was falling harder and harder, he had a feeling the next few minutes of this trip weren¡¯t going to go as smoothly as the last had. As it approached, he looked at each knight, nodded, and watched them both hit the ground as he lifted the scepter. It shone with a gleam, releasing a bright white light that reflected from the snowflakes, and suddenly went dark as the scepter hit the ground at maximum force. Xander¡¯s grip around the shaft tightened as the center of the orb shone, pushing a pulse toward the outside of it and releasing it, knocking back every single snowflake in the area so far and so fast that the whole place was cleared of it in one wave of energy. The person approaching held up one hand, their coat flowing in the wind, and their whole form was revealed to him. He had pale skin and no shirt beneath the long, leather overcoat. He had pants on beneath it, and bandages covered his entire face. As the shockwave made contact with them, the bandages began to rip. His hand went straight to his face as they were ripped off by the wind, so as not to reveal something. He put one foot back, balancing him against the shockwaves. As his knee hit the ground, however, his face suddenly lit up- not metaphorically. It was like he¡¯d become a star, the gleam blinding Xander. He squinted and barely managed to see that it wasn¡¯t his face, but something on it. He caught a glimpse of it when his light dimmed. A third eye, placed vertically on his forehead. Ice grew on his fingertips, extending up his arm to make some sort of armor, in combination with little glowing circles, in some semblance of a fungus. Xander squinted further, trying to make out what he was doing. His hands were covering his eye. The last shockwave went out, speeding toward him. As it did, he dropped to both of his knees, let his arms out as if they were wings, and screamed. A beam, pale blue, cut straight through the shockwave and made some sort of purple ice on anything it hit or was nearby. His face moved, pain evident on his features and movements. Xander dropped to the floor, the immense power exuding from it combined with its erratic movements making for a destructive combination. Trees were shot from their trunk and connected by the ice, the beam turning and contorting like a giant snake, destroying everything in its path. The ice buildup made the atmosphere purple, the snow¡¯s color changing. It had cut through the shockwave and completely dispersed its energy like a hot knife through butter, almost effortlessly. It was quickly made clear he had no control of it, so Xander stood, staying low, and made his knights come with him. ¡±Restrain his head. Make it face straight forward.¡± He said, crouching and moving while avoiding the blue beam of pure cold. The energy behind it had made trenches of ice in the ground, severed trees reconnected and frozen, completely still as if in a block of resin. One of his knights moved forward, getting closer and grabbing his arm. The person whipped around, cutting the armor and spectral body within it into two pieces. As his head whipped back around, it beheaded the poor knight, whose body hit the snowy ground with a thud. Xander got up, sprinting toward him. He used his scepter to guard from the beam, even though he wasn¡¯t sure it would even hit him, or work if it did. It whipped around once again, throwing up snow into the air, making cold smokescreens to block Xander and the other knight¡¯s approach. Xander ducked beneath it, moving slowly until it went up into the sky and into the other direction. He got up, running for him. Each step felt like an hour, every movement attracting the beam. But he sprinted, until he could grasp the young man¡¯s long-haired head. It was white, almost purple-ish, tainted by the fungus-like dots along his body, ice crawling along his torso, making a chest plate. With both hands around the his head, Xander gripped. He felt the shaking, the pounding on the inside of it, of something wanting out. Not just something. More things. So many things, trapped within his head, making this beam perforate the cold. Tears fell from his eyes, and through the beam¡¯s overpowering sound, he asked for help again, in a soft voice, tired of the pain. Xander felt it, a bit of his pain, for one instant. As he held him, he felt it, the pain in his mind. It was so cold. He didn¡¯t know what to do but hold him still. Quell the voices. Insert his own. But how? The palms of Xander¡¯s hands, cold from the energy exuding from the man¡¯s temples, suddenly froze in the purple ice, encrusted with the cold. The knight rushed over, using the halberd to knock the ice off. But it wouldn¡¯t budge. It was too strong. Xander pushed against them with all his might, making a fist, grabbing the ice within his prison of it. His scepter appeared with in right hand, shattering the ice around the man¡¯s head. Its materialization had suddenly cut off the beam, a giant amalgamation of the purple ice in front of them. Deep within it, there was a blue light, pulsating. The formation of the man¡¯s armor had finished. His helmet slowly formed, and once it finished, he stood up. In the center of each plate of his armor, there was a circle of the fungi, a bioluminescent white glowing circle, hollow on the inside. Xander backed up. His hands were bleeding, bits of ice still attached. He looked at the man as he got up and turned around. He was crying. Tears with shards of ice in them fell from his two eyes, while his third stared dead at Xander and was filled with rage.