Not the Hero:

Part 3

City of Heroes Fan Fiction by

Anthony Harte

The ex-hero, ex-Onami Strike Force member navigated the dizzying twists and turns of the underground passages growing frustrated. He was lost and fuming at the inaccurate ancient map. His Rogue Isle Protector contact had never steered him wrong in the past and even though they were on different sides of the law, he sometimes felt they had common goals. Maybe Brian was more like the Protector then he thought, a cold-blooded killer that had merely fooled everyone surrounding him into thinking he could be a hero, including himself.

He reached under his black trench coat to the inner right breast pocket grasping the metal flask waiting there. He popped the cap and took a small swig. Wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his multi-million dollar uniform fresh from Icon, he leaned against the nearest outcropping his night vision monocle over his right eye to pull back the darkness of the cave. The monocle also had displayed the GPS position, and had a directional north arrow indicator, but since GPS signals did not penetrate the earth well, Brian was lost. Even the north indicator had a habit of locating pockets of lodestone. After walking in a circle for another thirty minutes, he pulled out the map again only to hurl to the stone floor and throw obscenities at it.

Cursing Norman, Brian took off his black duster hat and mopped his brow with a handkerchief. The hat was fitted with a headband he himself had made. It was enchanted with the spells allowing him immediate access to people’s minds so he could mesmerize, dominate, confuse, or just plain hypnotize them with a simple thought. The Cloak of Crowely, was midnight black and covered his trench coat allow him to blend in with his surroundings at a moments notice. The breastplate he wore was the finest body armor the military possessed and matched the dark scheme.

His belt held eight cylindrical canisters the size of large cigar containing a weaponized form of nectar he acquired through Pocket D, from DJ Zero. That alone was the single most expensive acquisition. The nectar was purportedly distilled ambrosia from the gods which when sprinkled upon a person turned them into your best life long friend for a time. He paid some shadowy contact from the Tsoo to weaponize it into an aerosol spray. Tapping a very secretive contact from the Fifth Column, he paid for the design and creation of the pressurized canisters to deliver it.

Brian activated his black leather boots with a thought causing a yellow and a pinkish light to coalesce from the cave floor. The illumination wrapped around his legs imbuing him his signature super speed. The boots also were another creation of his allowing him to use less verbal spells when the time came. They also allowed him to jump up to fifteen feet in height and scale almost sheer inclines. Actually, the footwear contained Crowley’s Bracers and Joule’s Grieves sewn into the shins.

He focused a thought causing dark lavender tendrils rise out from his cloak and grow around his form. The stealth spell melted his figure and dampened the radiance of his traveling powers.

The ex-hero tightened his fingerless gloves, which were the second most expensive item he wore. They were modified Joule’s Gauntlets, imbuing him with a hastened demeanor, which he bought from a museum at considerable cost. Adding to the eldritch power of telekinesis to the gloves allowed him the ability to rapidly, and forcibly, remove anything standing in his way.

The sole purpose of this final uniform was to free his mind and energy for the telekinetic spell he researched and modified. He spent the last three months memorizing every inflection. He tested the results in Boomtown days earlier verifying he could achieve the goal of destruction. He brought down one of the remaining severely damaged buildings left standing from the Rikti War. The building was completely obliterated reducing it to a large pile of rubble and twisted steel.

Brian raced around the underground caverns for another half an hour at blinding speeds. He randomly chose passageways hoping sheer luck would deliver him to his location. After hours of crisscrossing paths, he finally stopped and collapsed to the ground giving in to despair. Unable to could do anything right, Aaron’s and Aura’s images assaulted him cursing his name.

Brian sobbed.

The option of returning to Paragon City crossed his mind, but he could not, even in failure. He could blame the Protector, but the truth was everything bad that happened around him he had caused himself. His actions killed Aura and Aaron. The flask in his trench coat again offered and supplied a way out. He smacked his lips, capped the metal flask, and stared at it in the low light amplified by his monocle. His parents would be disappointed in him for he was not the man they tried to raise him to be. Missing them greatly tears streamed down his face hidden by the mask he wore to hide is identity. If he failed to find Oranbega then he would disappear in the depths underneath Paragon City.

A slight murmur arose in the distance echoing chants throughout the tunnel. Brian paused and stopped breathing to listen and ensure his mind was not playing trick on him. He slowly got to his feet and slowly made his way down the passage. Eventually, he turned his monocle off, dim lights in the distance now illuminated and bounced down the widening tunnel. He recognized the chanting, for it was all too familiar. Believing he neared Oranbega, he enacted the stealth his cloak offered.

Slowly he kept closer to the source; almost sure, it was a summoning ceremony of some sort. He could make out one voice in particular; his eyes winced because the throated growl hurt his ears and scoured his soul. The voice was deep and spoke in a strange tongue so raspy the bass of the sound reverberated off the walls. He crept ever closer and fear shivered its way down his spine almost freezing him in his tracks. He could not stop now; he must put two dead souls to rest. If anything to silence their wale of vengeance demanded of all murdered victim spirits.

He passed boxes, crates, and cargo containers, as the passage grew ever wider. They had been marked in various languages from all over the globe. Closer still, he dared approach and finding the large massive chamber from which the chanting had been originating. He stood for a moment overcome by its size. The floor had been carved flat and inscribed with ancient symbols. A couple hundred Circle members prostrated themselves purposefully around the etchings and markings. To Brian it appeared to be a huge pentagram inscribed in the floor. In the center about fifty yards away, stood a large figure with purplish green iridescent skin and bald reptilian head. It spoke into a large emerald fire center consuming the middles of the chamber. With violet faceted eyes, the alien-like creature appeared to be creating a summoning portal. Large pointed teeth glistened every time the living thing opened its mouth. The sight of the humanoid froze Brian in his tracks. He almost felt like he should look away because he was not worthy to view the horrible creature.

Brian watched the events before him unfold unable to look away. So enthralled he was he barely managed to notice and avoid some latecomers to the ceremony. They were dressed similarly to the Circle of Thorns, but the truth was they were not, well not completely. They dressed in the colorful green, blue, red, or black colors one expected of the cult members, but all war a black triangle patch down the front of their robes. When the eerie light reflected off their clothes just right, it appeared a black crescent moon appeared to be sewn into the patch.

A large metallic hand reached out from behind Brian jerking him into a darkened alcove. A metal hand clamped his mouth shut and he froze again in terror staring at two yellow eyes. Not sickly yellow, more like... the blazing sun, an eternal determination fueling the never-ending flames. The mouth sneered and curled revealing small fangs. Brian tried to talk, but could only mumble. The captor held him against the wall his feet dangling above the cave floor so he could not run.

“Please accept my humble apologies for startling you stranger. I know you do not belong amongst these… Nightcasters.” The voice was soft, almost soothing to Brian’s ears. He immediately recognized his assailant.

“Occam?” he whispered afraid his voice might interrupt the ceremony. "Occam’s Razar?”

 The drake let his startled sightseer go confidant he would not scream and bowed a salutation. “It is I, but I am not blest with the pleasure of your name Oh’ Lost One.”

Brian knew of the drake well, he had been present when the hero known as Occam’s Razar fled Crey with the help of Hero Corps. He got many of great shots for the paper that day. None of them made it to print though. They ended up going into his rather large Crey Industries file. A few innocent bystanders had been injured during his escape. It was the day his eyes were truly awakened to the true dealings of the corporation.

The ex-hero pulled his black facemask down, “It’s me Brian… Brian Sutter.”

Razar brought his right robotic arm up to his chin and looked into the face of the human. He did recognize the hero, but he also saw pain and despair etched into his face. “News Flash, Onami Strike Force.”

“Uh…” Brian said repelling from the revulsion he felt at those names now. “Sure.”

Razar noticed felt the emotion in the response and became vexed. “Nonetheless News Flash-“

“Brian,” the ex-hero demanded. “My name is Brian.”

“Okay, Brian,” the viral poison in the response not lost upon the half-human. “The Dark Lord is summoning an Envoy and you cannot be present.”

The term Envoy caused Brian to instantly panic. The drake could see fear and terror dance behind his eyes triggering the memory of PhoenixHawk dying to the Envoy. They were among the worst creatures imaginable.

“Are you well?” Occam’s Razar asked.

“Fine.” He whispered all the life draining from his voice. He slowly crept over to the entrance of the large alcove and peered out. “Doesn’t there have to be some sort of cosmic alignment for a ceremony like this to happen?”

Occam walked silently to the frightened man. “Yes, but the Dark Lord is a god. God’s do not necessarily follow the rules.”

“We… someone must stop him.” Brian stammered.

“Yes,” Occam nodded. “There will be a point in the ceremony, right before the actual summoning that I will strike in. The Dark Lord will fail tonight.”

Brian turned from the ceremony and looked up into the blazing suns staring back at him. “You’ll die. I am sure even a lone drake cannot stop the god.”

Occam’ Razar turned his sight back to the ceremony. “No, probably not. It is not unheard of from my time for a single drake to stop such a powerful being. Usually that fell to the dragons. Usually they were the ones that did the one-on-one fighting, but the Dark Lord is cursed.”

“How so?”

“It has recently been revealed to me the Dark Lord cheated Oblivion by sacrificing a part of his divine spark. He may still be a god, but not like he was previously… more like a demigod now. Therein lays the true irony of his sacrifice.”

Brian shrugged unable to grasp the half-dragon's innuendo.

“The Dark Lord hates the human race. He despises them with every essence of his body. He will regain his status if he can gain followers to worship him. The process will no doubt will take thousands of years, but there are no dinosaurs around this time so he must use humans. And use them he will.”

“Why sacrifice yourself? Who will succeed if you fail?”

“I do it because I must. I have sworn an oath to the dragons to protect humankind at all costs. If I fall, undoubtedly one of your kind will take my place. Maybe even you.”

Those words echoed and tore through Brian exposing his betrayals once again. Instinctively reaching for his flask, he took another nip. He was sure if Occam’s Razar were to fall, it would be by his own hands. Brian would kill the last drake forever removing the species from Earth.

“Brian Sutter, you must now lea…”

Occam and Brian both sensed the intrusion into their minds. The words to a lullaby rang in their heads.

***

Sarah had been playing back her recorded newscast before turning it off trying to make contact with her mentor and Brian. She sang the lullaby under her breath by habit.

“There,” the elf known as Occam’s Bow said. Her blonde hair sparkled like gold even in the dim light. “I can sense them now.” She was almost an icon herself dressed in green tights and leather. One could easily think she was from a D&D convention. Her carved elven bow was firmly gripped in her left hand and her quiver hung off her left hip. She barely hit the scales a mere five feet tall.

“Me too,” Thauma said to the elf. The two contrasted each other’s attributes perfectly. Bow looked quite smaller and Thauma looked even taller in her white club wear. A white wide brimmed hat covered her white spiky hair and mystical third eye. Her black skin accentuated by the shadows still kept a slight glow. She wore knee high boots and short skirt hugged her curvaceous hips.

Norman heard nothing from Sarah’s mental singing because his mystic helmet blocked her intrusion from his mind. He had a hell of time concentrating with Thauma walking in front of him, but he enjoyed every second of the hours they spent tracking in the caves. Many times did his heart race as he struggled to remain calm, his pulse barely staying below seventy-five. His love for Thauma was so strong he actually pained him to be near her. It continued to wage war with his Arachnos training that allowed him to remain in control. He could not explain this attraction, other than it truly must have been destined. There was a feeling of destiny in the air tonight, it sparked with electricity and excited him. It felt like his first kiss.

Occam’s Bow and Sarah had set off to locate their mentor when they came across Thauma Guard and the Rogue Isle Protector. Apparently, both their quarries had crossed paths so they decided to search together. Sarah could not help but noticed how protective the Arachnos trooper was over Thauma. He was always near her, enraptured by even the slightest movement she made, a twist of her neck, a fleeting look, or a slight smile. She could feel the passion of love he had for her, of which she found quite odd. Thauma seemed to display the slightest of emotion for the Protector, one akin to amusement and maybe just a little coyness. Sarah found the introversion unusual knowing Thauma the little she did. It was also quite unusual for her character and she did not know what to make of it.

The Other stirred in the deep recess of her psyche, sensing danger from the minds in front of them. She continued to whisper the lullaby to keep it distracted weighing the decision to read the minds of those ahead. Approaching where she sensed her mentor and News Flash she realized how close to the ceremony they really were. Sarah started humming the words instead of mouthing them and immediately their minds rushed forward. She began reciting the opening prologue to the Canterbury Tales to stop herself from penetrating the thoughts too far. She could already feel the anxiety at the summoning. This was truly a great event for this splinter cell. In each of their minds, she erased the image of her and her friends making them invisible.

“Okay, I have blocked us from their minds, but we must hurry.” Sarah felt one mind she dare not enter. With the Dark Lord’s back to them, she would not have to.

            Brian was able to sense Sarah and he enacted his own mind spell seeing whom she truly was, the hero known as Occam’s Mind. A coincidence, maybe, Brian was not sure. Occam’s Mind was none other than Sarah Starling, the person responsible for murdering seven people on the very floor he recently occupied in King Row. It was around her sixteenth birthday when the mysterious beatings from neighborhood break-ins had started. There was never a sign of intrusion only the strange attackers that scared their victims to no end. All the reports indicated different attackers and no motives. This went on for two weeks straight before the murders began causing heroes to line up on the rooftops to catch the culprits. Unbeknownst, to everyone at the time it was Sarah. She was having nightmares of ever attack and murder and was the police’s first suspect, but had a solid alibi for every instance being asleep in bed. It took a powerful psychic to track the murders and beatings to her.

            Apparently, her mutant powers were so great she could not control them and they invaded the minds of those around her revealing their fears and terrors. Her mind recoiled from the images, but it did not disconnect continuing to witness them. The super ego took over and created phantasm from the mind of the victim in an attempt to kill the source and end the fears. The States Attorney never officially filed charges against Sarah instead choosing to be locked away in the mental ward of the Zig and kept in a constant drugged state to prevent her subconscious, or conscious, mind from attacking anyone ever again. Somehow, her id still sought out help contacting the last drake known as Occam’s Razar.

            Brian snorted slightly at the thought. Maybe technically last drake for he had pictures of the half-dragon’s clone whose whereabouts was presently unknown. It was when Sarah’s group arrived did Brian panic, seeing Thauma. He looked down unable to look her in the eyes and shrank away to the deeper recesses of the alcove.

            Thauma quickly cast a spell creating a shield barrier in front of the large opening modifying it to prevent it from passing sound.

            “Brian,” she said slowly approaching him the others stepping back.

            Occam deduced what was to come from the body movements and tones. He could sense an internal struggle in Brian. He silently prayed this would be resolved swiftly; this was neither the time nor place to be counseling anyone. He glanced at the ever-vigilant Occam’s Bow who stood staring out the doorway with arrow notched. Occam’s Mind stood next to her keeping them blocked from the Nightcasters minds.

            Norman stood against the wall silent. He should have realized Brian’s deteriorating condition; the signs were all there, he just chose to ignore. He was livid at himself for missing the obvious condition of Brian.

            “Brian,” Thauma stared again. “What is this?” She held up the envelope containing his letter of resignation and other last remarks.

            Brian felt exposed his emotional defenses rising. He glanced at the letter, located the Protector, and glared at him feeling betrayed and desiring to act upon the emotion.

            For a split second the Protector was sure Brian was about to unleash hell against him. For another split second he almost felt guilty for ratting out someone he might consider a friend. He grew perplexed at the feeling; it was not like he betrayed Arachnos or his oath.

“Please Brian, talk to me,” Thauma begged stepping closer.

His mouth felt like lead cotton not knowing what to say, his heart sinking to his knees and replaced immediately by desolation. He heard the call of the flask once again.

“It’s not your fault.”

He finally looked at his mentor locking her gaze with his own. “Yes it is. You don’t understand.”

“Understand what? Being afraid? You would have been killed too.”

Brian reached for the flask and popped the cap.

“Drowning your sorrows in alcohol and guilt is not the solution. And going on a suicide mission against Oranbega isn’t a way out either.”

Brian took a double shot and let the liquid burn down his throat. It warmed his insides and sparked the courage he needed to go further. “I should be killed. I AM A MURDERER!” he shouted, his voice not traveling beyond protective shield.

“No your not. You were not strong enough then. There was nothing you could have done to change what happened.” Thauma voice was soft and soothing but firm. She could not reach out to her former apprentice to make him understand.

“I killed her!” he blurted revealing his dark secret. Tears began streaming down his face and he again began sobbing.

Norman steadied himself wondering who could have shattered this mans life so completely. Brian seemed to have more secrets than those kept in boxes.

“Who?” Thauma said holding back her emotions trying to be the stoic all-knowing leader. She desperately wanted to help her friend get better but something was always nagging him since Aaron’s death. She knew it could not be the death specifically, but every attempt she tried to go deeper she met his stinging sarcasm.

Brian removed his duster hat, monocle, and reaper mask and tossed them to the ground. “Aura Mattson, I killed her.” He collapsed against the back stonewall and slumped to the ground.

Thauma rushed forward to console him, but he yelled for her to get away. She knelt by him bringing herself to his level. She was ready to listen if he would only tell her what the issue was. It broke her heart she could not help him. The name he spoke was not immediately familiar to her.

“She was the only reason we ever met. I was your contact for the mission Azuria sent you on. Remember, the Circle of Thorns that abducted her.”

Thauma shook her head, “Right, they abducted and murdered her.”

Brian’s red-shot shallow eyes stared emptily back at Thauma. “They chased her and she ran into me. I pushed her down and told her to get away. The picture I took of her being dragged away even made it to the front page. I am not the hero I led you to believe I am.”

Thauma was shocked. She suspected Brian was closer to their first case then he originally indicated and now she knew why.

“I have always thought of you as my sister.” He said referring to the one he had lost during the Rikti War when his family was killed in the crossfire.

Tears pooled in Thauma’s eyes, but raged against the emotional damn she had built from Aaron’s death. Slowly fading was the stronger emotionless leader and in its place was Brian’s adopted sister. She too had grown to see Brian like a brother and not just some apprentice. It was one of the reasons she had suggested he join the Onami. For once, she was truly at a loss of words not having known the great weight he carried.

“And to think I would rather watch your lover die then sacrifice my life to try and save him. Taking his picture because I thought it would be great to catch an action shot. I considered him my friend, but…” Brian’s voice trailed off.

Thauma now saw the true burden and the link to Brian’s self-hate, “You did not kill him! It is not the same thing.”

“Yes, it is,” Brian said desperately looking to the others. Norman had been surprisingly silent and he could see the shock on the part of his face the helmet did not hide. Razar stood silently watching the two, but he could see the tears welling in the drake’s eyes threatening to extinguish the fiery suns. “I failed to act, in saving him or in stepping up in his place afterwards to be an example for others to follow.”

“What about all of those you have helped since then? How many lives have you saved?”

Before Brian could answer, the cavern shook violently. Occam’s Mind was balled up on the floor; the heavy emotions pouring forth overwhelmed her and her connection to everyone’s minds. She experienced everybody’s sadness at the same time, and could not handle the surge. The Other moved to protect her super-ego, but she fought to restrain it using the flood of emotions like a wall, but it was like holding torrential waters from broken damn back by thought alone. Each mind hammered her ego.

“Occam,” Bow said motioning to the ceremony. She had been the only one paying attention to their surroundings remaining cold and impassive.

Razar snapped from the emotional cloud covering the alcove realizing it was too late. The Envoy had been summoned.

“Get to the surface!” he yelled disappearing around the doorway to the alcove.             Everyone, including Brian ran to the entrance and witnessed the drake run by the rows of minions, right past a surprised Saurian god, and slide into the portal that lay open at the center of the pentagram. Everyone’s jaw dropped seeing the half-dragon disappear down the cross-dimensional hole his last act to scrape his claws across the binding circle etched in stone, severing the magical protective barrier.

“Can he do that?” Brian asked. From his understanding of rituals, what the drake did was… impossible.

“This summoning circle is rare,” Occam’s Bow said drawing her bow with an arrow her amber eyes glistening in the dim light. “This particular portal opens both ways. It is essentially a two-way gate.”

“Why is that?” Thauma asked rhetorically, putting words to everyone’s thoughts.

Sarah sensed the gate opening exposing even more minds to the Other. Like a crack addict, the Other strained against her will to enter their thoughts. She fought back struggling to maintain the groups invisibility.

The cavern dropped into a dead silence, everyone holding his or her breath at the same time. Never before had anyone witnessed the event that had just occurred. Even the Dark Lord was momentarily puzzled thinking the drake was stopping his new Envoy’s arrival. The seconds stretched to a minute and still nothing emerged from the portal. Murmuring broke out and the Saurian god dared to think the half-dragon had at last finally met his end and chuckled silently. He ignored the others accompanying him, for they were insignificant. Their blood would only begin to quench his thirst tonight.

The cavern shook even more violently sending dirt columns falling from the ceiling threatening to collapse the roof on the rogue order and heroes. The air pressure dropped rapidly and a roaring explosion shook forth heralding the arrival of the Envoy. Clutched in an eternal struggle it held the drake at arms length, Occam stabbing at its face.

The hell spawn easily occupied a third of the room’s height. Already a black ichor dripped from its left eye socket where the half-dragon had scored the first hit. Several lacerations covered its arms and Occam’s Razar continued to add to them. The Envoy howled in a rage that shook the cavern causing all non-humans to cover their ears in pain. The demon flung half-dragon down, but the drake somersaulted in mid-air and landed gracefully. The drake’s eyes radiated a red eldritch glow focusing intently upon the Envoy.

Enchanted claws sprang from robotic arms emitting their own amethyst light guaranteeing the fight was not completely hopeless. Occam’s Razar growled charging the Envoy who surrounded itself with a thick inky black mist that hung thick in the air around it.

Sarah stoically rose from the stone floor and in a silent agreement with her companions, chose not to flee determined to stay and assist Occam’s Razar. Using her glove controls, she turned off her MP3 player and all other sources of stimuli. Choosing to hum an ancient dragon battle song her mentor had taught her, she focused her thoughts commanding the Other to obey. She unleashed the full force of her mutant gift causing reality to twist and distort to her willpower. Reaching out with her hand targeting the Dark Lord and his minions, she could feel their existence, their breathing, their fears, and more importantly their movement. She tilted the laws of physics and ever so slightly, nudged the kinetic energy around her targets stealing it from them, and breathed the force into the bodies of her teammates. Each felt a sudden surge of energy and power. Sarah unleashed nightmares against the nearest Nightcasters their terrors coalescing into reality. To the group of heroes they saw only shimmering humanoids, but to the individuals affected they saw the worst most terrifying images they dared dream. From the dark recesses of their psyche, Occam’s Mind delivered unto them their own personal Hell. Sarah again warped reality and out stretched her hands sending her form into the air hovering a mere ten feet off the cave’s floor.

Occam’s Bow stepped forward sending her first arrow at the Envoy, her second against the Dark Lord, and a third explosive arrow into the rows of faithful. The arrows targeting the Envoy and Saurian god bounced harmlessly off their bodies. The explosive arrow impacted one Nightcaster and detonated shredding those standing near him with his bone fragment acting like shrapnel. She desired to help the drake, but she needed to keep back the mobs if they were to escape with their lives.

Norman instantly stood in front of Thauma his breastplate deflecting the crossbow bolts the cults defenders fired from the their ranks. There was no doubt; his being here had been destined. The fact Occam’s Razar was here was proof enough to him. When he was selected for the Protector program, he was given complete knowledge of the procedure. Arachnos awarded loyalty with the truth. He knew the recombinant DNA injected in him was two parts; the first was by some one named ‘A. Christensen’, or so the vial recovered from the Crey lab, which was sold to Arachnos, had been labeled. He never knew the first name, nor did the identity seem to matter to him. It was when they were about to inject him with the vial labeled ‘Drake’ did they inform him he was a descendant of the Mu and Lord Recluse gave him special dispensation to partake in the Protector program and forgo the Mu training usually assigned to descendants. They also explained to him who the drake was and why there was only the one vial. He had won the “Arachnos lottery,” allowing him to test the validity and viability of the half-dragon’s DNA. He had felt honored for the assignment’ anything to promote Lord Recluse’s vision. Unfortunately, after the injection he remembered nothing until waking up in the Zig hospital ward of Paragon City.

He watched Occam’s Razar dodge a sword forged from pure fire. He was in awe at the speed the drake possessed. Norman was not a fool or a pessimist, but a realist. In his heart and he knew the odds realizing they all would not be making it back to the surface. Damn the fates for he would not let his true love fall before these parlor magicians. If any were to survive, he would ensure her safety. Death would only come when he was good and ready.

The Rogue Isle Protector took the momentary lapse in projectiles to remove his helmet. For anyone to see the true face of a Protector was cursed with a swift death. Tonight he would decide who would live and who would die. He turned to face his true love wanting her to see his face before he died.

“How’s ‘bout a kiss before dying.”

Thauma could only blink in surprise words abandoning her swift tongue. She realized the Protector had made a heroic gesture in revealing his identity, but it was his face leaving her speechless. His left eye was blue and the right brown, no doubt a result of the process of the Protector program. The mismatched eyes, sharp features, all looked familiar yet slightly different. Thauma looked on, mouth slightly agape.

“Aaron,” Brian whispered thinking the same thing.

“What’s that?” Norman asked slightly puzzled at the reaction. He might not have been that handsome, but he thought he looked okay.

“You look like,” Brian started.

“PhoenixHawk,” Thauma finished.

The reality of what they were saying slammed home in Norman’s mind. ‘Aaron,’ Sutter had just said. ‘PhoenixHawk,’ Thauma had followed. Her dead lover. A. Chistensen… Aaron Christensen had been the original DNA donor. He had never drawn the connection until now. He considered himself quite good at unraveling political puzzles and hidden motives, but he completely missed the correlation until now. Aaron Christensen, who’s DNA he had been injected with was the legendary PhoenixHawk.

Could it explain his feeling for this woman, he thought, a love so great and singularly destined that it transcended DNA itself? He could not answer the question, but it did not lessen his feelings for her in the least.

            “I guess you like the tragic hero types don’t you,” he said creating waves of heat and sending the over his body. “My real name is Norman, and I just want to tell you that I love you. I have always loved you since the time we first met.”

Thauma was now truly speechless his words knocking the breath from her. With everything that was happening with Brian, she felt completely vulnerable. She did not have any feelings for this villain, whom happened to share a common goal with her once. Love requited was a terrible feeling for the one not receiving returned affections. The Protector had always seemed to treat her differently. She felt at that moment if she were to lead a strike force against Lord Recluse himself that, Norman would lead the way. Maybe she did feel something, but too much was happening for her to know what it was.

“Alas, the beauty remains silent. Then we shall go our separate ways.” Norman said breathing life into the fire sending the flames to dance teasingly over his skin. His eyes suddenly burst into a green light all too familiar to those that knew PhoenixHawk.

“Another time and another place then.” He turned to engage the Envoy in hand-to-hand combat feeling no regrets. Not all true love stories had happy endings.

Brian and Thauma could only exchange looks of astonishment.

Sarah again hummed the ancient battle song, but now she added the words she learned from Occam, speaking the ancient language of the dragons. She cold feel her Other straining to rise up and swallow her essence in order to keep her safe. Her body jerked with a spasm feeling the Other break free. It did not encompass or control her, this time it was something different.

She sensed Him, the one who mockingly called himself the Dark Lord Ockham. He was in her mind and the Other confronted Him directly, keeping her safe. Sarah remembered Razar warning her if she ever encountered the Saurian god to keep her wits about her for he lied and manipulated the truth. He would make false promises in order to fulfill his desires. It would not be too long before he realized whom he really confronted. Practicing her breathing, she kept those who targeted her with crossbows, spells, or whatever to continue to see their darkest fears. She could sense her powers growing; the battle only creating more kinetic energy she would use to bend reality to her will.

Again she reached out targeting the Dark Lord who stood mesmerized by the Other thinking he faced the true Sarah. She bumped the fabric of space-time and siphoned off the increasing energy patterns feeding them directly into her friends. She continued to sense more minds across the dimensional rift her abilities growing by the moment. If she kept using her latent skills, the Other would soon completely overwhelm her. It was then too she realized she was drawing energy off the portal itself feeding on it like a growing storm. From the passage leading them here, she sensed a large group approaching alarmed at the commotion they heard.

Occam’s Razar eluded the fire blade its heat singing the hair on his chest. He sent another Crey robotic blade into the Envoy’s appendage and spun driving a thrust into its thigh. It screamed in pain and sloppily swung out. Norman sent forth a blazing aura when he entered the black mist. Suddenly he could barely move his legs, the fog gripping him like the arms the damned clawing their way toward heaven. His minor attack barely hurt the demon, if it did anything at all. He intended to crank up the heat for that is what he truly desired. He had burned out three lower demons in order to acquire the map for his friend, so he believed he could handle one Envoy. The fire danced around his form with the promise of tasting his flesh, but he manipulated it carefully not letting it bite. He focused an intense burst on his hands and struck out.

Razar again easily dodged the beast’s sword and Norman’s blast hit it squarely in the chest. The Envoy actually looked surprised seeing the Protector squaring off with him. Occam swung for the head and clipped the ear. The beast howled and lunged for the swift drake catching only his shadow. Norman created a large fire around his body and watched it dance through the inky black misty merging with it enveloping the Envoy. He smiled and again summoned the most intense heat he could muster and launched out igniting the Envoys leg. The hell spawn kicked out catching the Protector directly sending him outside the radius of the tar patch mist, the air knocked from his lungs.

The Envoy changed tactics and feinted with a solid attack with its claws. The drake deftly avoided the blow, but the Envoy followed through with its expansive left wing snaring the half-dragon within. Razar cut through the thin membrane and landed on the ground with one leg and slightly off balance. The Envoy grabbed the slowed hero by his left robotic arm and used the eight-foot drake like a club to parry Norman’s leap back into the mist. The Protector had not fully caught his breath from the kick when he collided with the makeshift club and grunted from the impact. He even felt the ground rush up to meet several feet away.

The Envoy thrilled with its new weapon smashed Occam’s Razar into the ground and whipped him all around beating the half-dragon into unconsciousness. The beast cracked the limp body like a whip and seemed to release the half-human sending him flying into the alcove wall near his companions. Thauma Guard gasped when Occam’s limp form slammed into the rock with a bone-shattering crunch and slid lifelessly to the floor. When the creature threw Occam’s robotic arm at her did she realize the horror of the situation. The beast had ripped his left arm from his body. She saw blood and bone gushing from just below the elbow where Razar’s arm used to be. Knowing only a few healing spells she hastily cast them to try to stop the bleeding. Placing her hand under his armpit, she hoped the pressure point of the tall drake was similar enough to human’s to stop the bleeding.

“Brian please help me,” she begged turning toward her panicking teammate she saw the sheer terror in his eyes. She knew that in his mind, he was reliving the last moments of Aaron, for she fought off the vision knowing she must be strong.

“Bow,” she gasped looking for help from the elf but saw the lithe form collapse to the ground, five crossbow bolts imbedded into her chest. Blood dripped from her mouth and she lay there still awake almost not comprehending what was happening.

“Brian please… help me,” Thauma’s eyes meet his and she saw he was gone, too afraid to do anything. She saw the large group entering the cavern from the same entrance they used to enter the cavern. Releasing the pressure point long enough cast another spell created a shield around them, then looked up to Occam’s Mind, sensing the woman’s thought on the outer fringes of her own and mentally pleaded for help.

Sarah heard her and sent forth a psychic pulse toward the new combatants temporarily scrambling their synaptic nerves. She also sensed Thauma’s attempt at rousing Brian sensing his self-inflicted turmoil. They needed his help if he were to get out. With Dark Lord still permeating her thoughts, she tried a risky and daring maneuver. Sarah mentally reached into Brian’s mind in attempt to shake him from his trance. She saw what he saw, PhoenixHawk pinned under another Envoy and the deathblow that followed. Brian hovered nearby snapping the scene with his camera. Probing deeper and witnessing the events that brought Brian into Thauma’s tutelage into the ways of magic she realized the source of his woes. Ever so slightly, she bumped Brian’s memory bringing the image of Aura into PhoenixHawk’s death. She focused on Aura calling Brian by his hero name and made him lucid.

Brian Sutter hovered above the death scene watching the few Onami Strike Force members fight the Envoy. PhoenixHawk was pinned under the beast’s leg and he raised his camera to catch the act that would destroy the beast. Through the lens, he saw the image of Aura standing next to the beast calling his name beckoning him to save them. This time Brian dropped the camera.

           He stood up from the cave floor still afraid, but not willing to stand by any longer. Casting his first spell, he contacted every mind he within the spells range. He sent out a second spell immediately thereafter flashing an intense white pulsing across the entire cavern, those nearest him not being attacked were put into an instant sleep. Those affected could only stand motionless heads slumped low. Brian saw Thauma pleading him to help her and Occam’s Bow collapsed on the ground. He cast the first of several quick healing spells that emanated around him in a green healing light stopping minor wounds and bleeding. Rushing to Bow and helping her to her feet, he realized four of the crossbow bolts had only lodged into her armored tunic. The fifth arrow he believed had penetrated her lung.

        Thanking Brian, she told him to help Razar. It hurt to inhale, each breath setting her chest afire. She accepted the fact she was not leaving this cavern tonight. One way or another, the Envoy, the Dark Lord, and the business with the Nightcasters must be concluded, even at the cost of her own life. She drew back her bow weakly and steadied herself grimacing against the pain. Her spirit would not let her fail the dragons in the last days of their holy war. The singular thought echoed throughout her gaining momentum. Suffering in pain each time she drew the bow she reinforced her dedication to the idea.

        Brian ripped off strips of his trench coat and helped Thauma bandaged Occam’s wound, “We need to get him out of here.” He grabbed Occam’s detached left hand and placed it in the drakes lap.

        Brian nodded and looked back at their only exit and the crowd blocking it. He activated the drakes Mediport, but nothing happened.

        “We are out of range I think.”

        Occam’s Razar had been drifting in and out of consciousness only barely registering the exchange between the Protector and Thauma. He opened his eyes fully witnessing Thauma’s magical shield fail and the hordes of Nightcasters fall upon them with daggers and curved blades.

        “Behind you,” he groaned rising to his feet. The pain of a long lost appendage and the cracked bones from slamming into the cave wall blinded his senses.

        “Occ, please rest,” Thauma pleaded not noticing the onslaught.

        “Thauma,” Brian shouted setting another row of attackers to sleep scrambling their nervous system.

        She turned around watching Occam send for his chi energy from his remaining claw into the nearest Circle defender. It jerked with a spurt of blood erupting from its chest and fell a couple feet from her. Even in the drake’s injured state was he able to tap the strength of dragons. Thauma drew upon her dark powers from traversing ley lines and launched a spell encompassing those minions near her in dark tentacles that rose from the stone floor. She fired streams of dark blasts at those rushing forward unhindered by her spell.

        Occam’s Bow was now fighting hand-to-hand, her arrows becoming thin narrow daggers and her bow a curved club. Whenever she caught a free second, she fired off another arrow, but those moments were disappearing all to fast. They were too out numbered and surrounded to survive the battle. Her breathing quickened and grew shallower with every thrust. She only needed one shot with a special arrow she kept from her homeland, an arrow meant for the Dark Lord Ockham. Her opening had to come soon or all would be lost.

        Brian reached for the several canisters connected to his belt and began unhooking them and tossing into the mobs of Circle members. He triggered each properly, but was shocked to see nothing happened. He thought maybe he did not activate them correctly, but each exploded just like the demo the Tsoo had him test.

        “That son of a bitch,” Brian muttered realizing he had been tricked.

        The Tsoo had stolen his supply and doomed him further. Now everyone with him in the caverns was condemned too. His suicide mission was going to kill those close to him and other great heroes like Occam’s Razar. He watched the drake collapse his endurance drained from his focused chi attack, but Thauma caught him.

        Circle Nightcasters rushing forward and fell upon the distracted dark skinned defender. With her attention drawn to the severely wounded drake and her back to the surging attackers, Brian stepped in their way his breastplate diverting a thrust intended for his self-adopted sister. Tapping the power of his gloves, he sent the wielder flying with a telekinetic blast. He followed through to the next six sending them careening into the high ceiling only to not bounce of the cold cave floor. He cast another spell wishing he had time to grab his hat that would have assisted his spell casting.

        The next wave felt the brunt of his sleep spell that disrupted the pathways of neurons in their brains. They only stopped for a moment before suddenly popping awake. Brian could feel his powers draining away; too much was happening and too fast. His spells were not as strong as they should have been. He realized another failure that would lead to the death of those near him. If he had brought his camera, any camera, the powerful foci for his magic abilities, his spells would have been stronger. He thought he had weaned himself from the necessary item, but now he wished he had not.

        The oncoming mix of Guardians, Guides, and Thorn Wielders met the force of his eldritch telekinetic ability. Only the last lone green robed guide felt the weak punch delivered from Brian’s left hand. His fist throbbed in pain, but he still knocked the attacker off balance. He kicked out with his boots and knocked his momentary foe back into another column of advancing attackers. He watched Thauma cast another healing spell on Occam where she laid him against the wall. The drake was still alert, but it was obvious he was in a great pain and needed serious medical attention.

        Brian looked down the passage were Occam’s Bow was valiantly fighting off the new arrivals. Her moves came in quick spurts and were deadly. It almost appeared she was dancing to a song of death. He looked down the retreating corridor, considering his options. It would be easy for him to engage the traveling powers of his boots and speed away from here. He could not bear to witness the deaths he had caused again. He sent out a wave of green healing energies around him to delay the inevitable.

        He then noticed Thauma’s new cell phone. He ran over to her and grabbed the new piece of technology.

        “I need to borrow this,” he said snatching it from her hip.

        She turned and nodded knowing why the camera phone was needed. She watched Brian put another advancing rank of Circle members a sleep with the built-in flash of the phone. Not wasting any time she again cast enchanted barriers around her ally’s to help turn back the arrows that were sent their way. Realizing the end was near she fired another spell encompassing a close group of attackers in black tentacles holding them in the place. There were just too many of them, how the Dark Lord turned so many Circle of Thorns members against themselves to create his own legion would remain a mystery. If they failed to stop them here, millions above them could die and the repercussions would reach even further. Someone would have to warn others of what was coming. It was then Thauma realized she did not care if her life was sacrificed. She missed Aaron too much and recent events only dug into an unhealed wound. The realization shocked her, but came as no surprise.

        “Brian,” Thauma said realizing he was the only person in the cavern fast enough to make it out alive. Occam’s Mind was keeping the Nightcasters trapped by their own fears stretching the limits of her powers. Occam’s Bow was fighting hand-to-hand and Occam’s Razar was too injured to make the journey. The drake had already proven himself by sacrificing his life in the past and was willing to lay it down if ever became required. She knew his students would do the same for him. His words of wisdom would be sorely missed, but there was no left to miss her anymore.

        The ex-hero turned his attention to his former mentor.

        “Brian, we need to warn the city,” she explained. “You’re the only one who can make it back and bring help.” She did not believe the last statement; help was too far gone to reach them in time. She was accepting her destiny then, longing to be in the arms of her lover united in death.

        Brian turned away from Thauma gasping for breath. No, he thought, can she read my thoughts. He froze and glanced past Occam’s Bow down the dark tunnel. Tonight he was responsible for everyone’s death and habitually reached for the flask of liquid courage. Taking a gulp and snapping the cap back on the urge to race down the tunnel overwhelmed him and he could not understand why he was not running. How could he stand on the shore and watch them drown like he did in the past?

        Norman held his ground defiantly, the black inky mist surrounding the Envoy and holding him in place making it easy. He was not afraid to die now that he had professed his feeling to the one he loved. A love she probably could never return. With Occam’s Razar out of the fight, the demon’s fury fell totally upon the Protector, a fury of fire. The flames danced off him in its frenzy feast and devoured the surrounding air. Light and heat poured into the cavern and the world rotated on the singular battle. Norman’s fire tried to feed upon the beast of hell only to join with it.

        The Envoy battered the Protector with claw attacks and kicks. Norman blocked what he could and kept a defiant all-knowing smile behind blazing green eyes.

        “Bring it on Beast! Your Zippo is nothing compared to my fury.”

        “You’re death shall be the first soul to feed my new Master,” the Envoy snarled his voice reverberating heavily of the stone walls. It stomped down with its leg, thick like a tree trunk, and squashed the irritating human to the ground.

        Both Thauma and Brian stiffened petrified at the statement they both heard an identical one over three years ago. They dared to look on seeing the Rogue Isle Protector pinned underneath the Envoy’s leg. This was no illusion of the mind, but reality. A chain of events had restarted mimicking what happened to PhoenixHawk long ago. The beast drew back its arm as if to drive its clawed hand through the Protector and into the ground. Simultaneously, Thauma and Brian yelled out launching their last spells before the fatal plunge. Thauma threw out her arms firing dark bolts of energy to bounce off the hell spawn. Brian cut a large path of synaptic energy, similar to Sarah’s power in a wide arc stunning all of those between him and the Envoy. They Envoy not even blinking struck out stopping short; mere inches, and released a large fireball that engulfed the Protector.

        Norman laughed. He convinced the stupid beast he could take any amount of flames he threw at him. The first wave he focused and set out enveloping the duo. The Envoy had him completely pinned to the floor unable to wiggle free.

        “Is that it,” Norman taunted. “I couldn’t even light Brian’s cigars with that fire.”

        Norman summoned all the heat he dared muster and created a stronger and bigger bonfire. He rotated the column around them ensuring he kept the hungry flames off his flesh. Any Nightcasters near the duo became enveloped in the flames and burned to death. The temperature rose twenty degrees within seconds and the deep cool cavern now lit up with bright orange and yellow flames.

        The Envoy chuckled and summoned to it the true fires of Hell.

        Control, Norman thought, I must maintain control. The thought of Thauma dying to this beast fed his fury and imparted upon him a degree of control over the inferno surrounding him. Maybe, just maybe he could indeed burnout the Envoy.

        Razar felt a breeze in the once calm air. It rushed from the surrounding passageways into the blazing melee and rose in plumes through cracks in the limestone roof to escape somewhere above. He could think of no plan that would allow them to kill either the Dark Lord or his new ally. They did have one chance and sensing Sarah at the boundaries of conscious thought, he reached out.

        “Sarah, please link the group.”

        Occam’s Mind heard the call and did so; the thoughts of Razar could now be heard in the minds of those present. She shuttered at the inertia building up so close to the magic portal. The friction of two different planes of existence created a nearly infinite power source to those gifted to sense it and use it. The power called to her to use it, but she resisted for such an act would overwhelm her and release the Other.

        “We have one chance to stop the Dark Lord and Envoy,” Occam said. “We must work together and send them into the portal then close it. It is our only chance; they cannot be released upon your world together. All of our efforts must be concentrated on keeping them off balance.”

        All nodded, except Norman whose form was lost in the rotating whirlwind of fire and Brian who was contemplating leaving his friends again.

        The air grew hotter and the fear Sarah was using faded. Hovering above the fray near the alcove, she released everyone’s mind. She could still feel the Dark Lord struggling with the Other in her mind. The sudden loss of her fear attack and the sudden tearing of her mind as the Dark Lord was forced out panicked her. She reached for the power the portal offered and brushed against it sending forth a pulse of mental energy encompassing everyone’s psyche, but it was too much. Her pulse penetrated the minds of those on the other side of the magical gateway as well. Every fear and horror ever imagined flooded her mind causing her to gasp in shock. The Other reached out to envelop her, to protect her mind. She tried resisting, but the battle was already slipping away from her vision.

        “Help,” she gasped audibly and mentally to her confidant drawing his mind henceforth. She knew what must be done and was afraid at what may happen as a result. Sarah also knew Occam was too proud to ask it of her.

        “Sarah, we cannot do this without you. Stay with us.” he answered.

        Tears pooled her eyes for she knew what was to come. “I know, but it will not be me.”

        “I cannot ask it of you.”
        “You don’t have too.”

        There was a pause like the universe itself stopped waiting for the two to exchange goodbyes.

        “Will you catch me,” Sarah asked sobbing.

        “I will always be here for you,” the large drake said eyes like the sun extinguishing with tears. He knew what price Sarah might pay for her inner demons.

        “I…”

        The Other had arrived. It swam contempt in the kinetic energies surrounding the portal and soaked the power in like sponge. She was disgusted at the horrors revealed to Sarah and would smote all sources of the evil. The living id enveloped Sarah protecting her from the harm and the images of malevolence they had brought to her.

        Sarah felt her consciousness slip away until reality was just a pinpoint of light, like a distant star. Falling into herself, she focused harder than ever in an attempt to protect the minds of her ad hoc team. The Other was usually not forgiving and made no distinction between good and evil. It was also there in the darkness, alone and falling, she heard the voices of those from the other side, their secret opening up to her. She shook in fear at what they were planning to do and what was to come. Reaching her thoughts out she tried to warn Occam, but the tiny thread of reality she held onto only allowed her to protect the minds of her team.

        With tremendous effort and pain, the swift Crey drake launched away from Thauma startling her. He leapt in the air, caught Sarah’s falling limp body, and gently laid it upon the ground. He ignored his aches, for true loyalty, dedication, and love transcended all things. After he gently set her body on the ground, the Other Sarah struck.

        She bent reality to her will forcing everyone’s fears into reality. In a blinding flash, every human except most of those traveling with the Other faced their deepest darkest fears in reality. No one was spared save the Dark Lord and the Envoy. Their was one person in particular the Other did not spare, whose darkest secrets held true horror, the awfulness of guilt and betrayal. She could not let any darkness exist regardless of what Sarah wanted. Brian needed to be killed.

        Occam’s Bow displayed no surprise at the events. A singular act echoed throughout her mind and when the opportunity immediately presented itself, she acted. Thauma rushed over to Sarah and Occam’s Razar when they collapsed on the ground to offer more healing magic. Whatever kept the Dark Lord from intervening in the fight was now at an end. His purplish green form darkened against the column of fire. More Circle members near the Saurian god burst into flames from the heat, but he seemed unaffected. She reached for the enchanted arrow. An arrow forged from the greatest magicks of the elf world and blessed with the love and gift of life. She notched the blazing white arrow and delivered the gift to Earth with the wrath of the elven race. Although the power in the arrow was great, it would only maim the Dark Lord and not kill. It struck the ancient god directly through his right knee.

        The Dark Lord actually shrieked in pain and only those not invaded by the Other covered their ears at the horrible cry. Paragon City shook above threatening to rezone the entire metropolitan area in the image of Faultline. The god crumpled to his knee left gripping the injured one.

        No one understood the venomous threat the Saurian hissed, but Bow and Razar. Thauma enveloped Sarah and Occam in a magical force field. Sarah still was breathing, but remained unconscious. She reached out to bubble Occam’s Bow when a stream of dark energy from the Dark Lord traveled through the force field and female elf before exploding on the back wall of the cavern. Occam’s Bow fell to the earth, dead before her limp body even fell lifeless to the ground.

        “No!” Razar and Thauma cried in unison.

        Razar tried to get up but his wounded body resisted. He too should have been unconscious from the pain, but his dragon blood strengthened his determination. He rose unsteadily, but Thauma Guard rushed to the fallen ally.

        The tall ebony skinned mage knew immediately the elf was dead, her body as limp as Aaron’s when he faced the Envoy and lost. Sweat trickled down her face, resulting from the intense heat of the firestorm raging near the center of the cavern next to the portal. It was like the sun had decided to rise from the cavern.

        “Now Thauma,” the Dark Lord proclaimed causing her to shiver in fear in knowledge such an evil being knew her name. “You will join your companion in Hell.”

        Occam’s Razar tried to throw himself in the way of the dark blast thrown at Thauma. He was weaker than he realized and fell way short of her location. He could only watch helplessly when the dark energies discharged.

        The Other, absorbing all the kinetic energy available, appeared before Thauma in a shimmering bluish light, her form resembling exactly Sarah Starling. She would not allow it any more. The energies meant for Thauma dissipated around the Other.

        Through a pain, filled haze the Dark Lord saw the foolish child. He was angered at her defiance at not joining his cause. He knew the true power she wielded and desired her enlistment among his minions. Such a faithful soul with her power would feed his impotent strength by an order of magnitude. The young one obstinately refused.

        “I know what you are afraid of Dark Lord,” she said mocking him.

        “I fear nothing,” he growled vibrating the walls and floor of the cave.

        “Today all will witness your fear.”

        The shimmering white image of Sarah raised an out stretched hand. “Hail the return of the dragons.”

        No one ever would have guessed what the look of shock and surprise looked like an ancient Saurian god. One would have thought the gods feared nothing. They would have been wrong.

        To the humans three brilliant multicolored strobe lights appeared before the Dark Lord Ockham. He yelled in defiance for he and the drake saw the true forms of dragons; they had returned from pre-history. They swarmed the Dark Lord like a hive of large angry hornets. The large lights buzzed and crackled with energy and the injured Dark Lord swung at them and released all the powers it could think of in an attempt to rid the Earth the zealous creatures.

        The Other turned toward Thauma and smiled before it too faded into the battle scene. The tall mage did not understand what she saw. She was sure Sarah was now dead her ghost was striking back before traveling to the afterlife. Another team member had fallen and although she had not known Sarah well, only meeting her on girl’s nights out, she felt a sudden sadness for her. Her death was what waited all of them.

        “Brian,” she said turning toward her once apprentice. He stood staring ahead with that thousand-yard stare she had seen before. “Brian you’re our last hope to warn the city. Azuria must be told of the Dark Lord’s plans.”

        Brian turned toward her and blankly looked at his mentor and sister. He vaguely heard Thauma. Sweat trickled down his face and he stared passed the multitude of battles, the dragons attacking the dark lord, and the fiery tornado that enveloped Norman and the Envoy. Near the portal Aura Mattson stood smiling and it burned his soul. Behind her the image of Aaron stood, his brown eyes forever extinguished from their green life of life. She beckoned him closer, but he could not move, locked in place by Aarons frown, He wanted to run and leave the world behind. Her calls to him increased and she began getting angry. Brian backed up slowly; they were going to haunt him forever unless he acted now.

        Norman felt the fire licking the hairs of his face and dancing among the cracks of his breastplate. He sweated in the blaze and felt the ground beneath him softening and liquefying. He tried to keep the fire off his skin, but failed his hair burning off. He needed to burn hotter if the group were to have a chance to send the Envoy back through the portal. A ground of molten stone would allow that to happen. He reached deeper inside him farther than he ever thought possible and summoned the greatest heat imaginable. Even in the uncontrollable fiery whirlwind, he knew it was not going to be enough. His thoughts drifted to Thauma, he could not fail her. He wanted her to live, and was ready to make the sacrifice. With his first selfish act he gave in to his flames knowing from his flesh an even greater tremendous heat would be born.

        The Rogue Isle Protector took a deep breath sending the hellish flames down his throat and into his lungs where it devoured them. It feasted upon his flesh sparing not even his fireproof clothes. It gnawed on the weak spots of his uniform creating holes and even managed to melt parts of his breastplate. Norman lost track of Thauma during the melee and hoped he brought enough of a diversion so she could escape. Norman’s flesh melted off his bones feeding the bright beast but never satisfying its hunger. The bones cracked and sizzled like firewood before succumbing to ash, so passed Norman from this world to the next.

        The Envoy laughed deeply and let the fires of Hell subside showing the heroes who was still standing. The flames turned a bluish white and further melted the stone around him.

        Thauma could only look on horrified at what transpired. She wished she never had to witness such an event again and would probably get her wish. The third member of their team had fallen. She collapsed near Sarah and waited for her turn. She hoped it was not going to hurt, but seeing Aaron again would make up for the pain. She begged for Brain one last time to leave and warn Azuria.

        So Brian ran.

        Maybe he should have thought it through first, because in he found himself running from Thauma and Occam enacting his traveling spells contained in his boots. He heard Thauma cry out to him, but he was already half way to the Envoy and the Dark Lord. Facing the ones he killed he realized his fear was irrelevant. He remembered a stray phrase that said Courage is how you act when frightened. In a brilliant streak, he raced toward the Dark Lord and his Envoy. He faced his fears refusing to back down too them. He was almost at the portal when he finalized his plan. He realized Aaron and Aura were offering him his redemption and a price paid in full for their murders.

        The Envoy barely saw the streak of yellow from the bluish white flames and barely managed to swing a flame sword at the new combatant. Brian’s destination was not them but the gate behind them next to the one he murdered. He leapt up, assisted by his special made boots, over the otherworldly creatures, and cast the spell he planned to use to raze the city of Oranbega. The spell could destroy a building with ease and required months of verbal practicing to speak it correctly. He knew the spell forwards and backwards. He chose backwards. With telekinetic spell reversed, it would draw his targets to him instead of pushing them away. The words rolled effortlessly from his lips and he even chose his anchor wisely. Brian dropped though the portal managing to snag the Dark Lord, the Envoy and even some Nightcasters in the field of effect.

        The humans tried to stop their descent but could not and were easily pulled through the portal. The Envoy leaned forward resisting the spell, but the molten earth only caused him slide backwards dragged into the gate scratching deeply grooved claw marks the entire way. The Saurian god fought the hardest with one good knee and a trio of Dragons assaulting him.

        “Thauma hit the Dark Lord,” Occam growled realizing victory was at hand.

        Thauma was in shock after witnessing Brian’s actions. She was shocked at losing yet another team member. She had been waiting to die and Occam’s remark was almost lost to her. Only when the Envoy slid into the portal did she even realize what had transpired.

        She stood up and with all the hurt from loss, suffering, and loneliness. Her magic summoned the most powerful force field she had ever, or may ever create, and flung it with the power of a woman scorned at the Dark Lord knocking him completely off balanced into the air. Brian’s telekinetic spell instantly sucked the Saurian into the magical gateway bridging the two dimensions.

        “We must close the portal,” Occam shouted through the continuing battles of fear that raged around them. About half the remaining Nightcasters had fallen to their own fears and the drake worried that the Other would attack them once they were gone.

        “How do we do that?” Thauma asked helping the drake to his feet.

        In response, the portal shuddered and exploded, the ground itself ripping apart. They had their answer, the portal was now closed and neither knew exactly why.

***

        He stood naked in a small clearing surrounded by an overgrown expanse of green trees. Not sure how long he had been standing there waiting, or for whatever he was waiting for, but he felt he must continue to be patient. Before him, in the warm morning air, sat a low white marbled altar with a fire pit carved in the center of the smooth surface. A cord of wood was stacked neatly among the burning embers feeding the small flames. The blackness of the curved depression indicated fires had been started and burnt on the altar for an untold number of years. A small black spider ran out from within the flames and scurried down the altar. He lost sight of it in the tall grass and thought the whole event was rather odd.

        He gazed upwards at the rising sun shielding his eyes with his left hand. The light felt warm against his skin and he felt idyllic. Something was missing though, he felt he had to be somewhere and meet someone, but time was running short. If he could even remember who he was maybe, he could figure out everything else.

        The small fire flared up briefly catching his attention. He watched the blaze feeling a familiarity in the chaotic random patterns of the flames. He saw shadows dancing in among the flames a companion to the ballet. Looking deeper, he saw a female form shadowed in the darkness with a light spiky hair…

        A bright light burst from above encompassing the clearing blotting out the heavens and he was awed at its radiance. He fell to his knees prostrating himself before a god. He felt naked and ashamed and begged for forgiveness at his failure. He was not sure what he failed at, but then the light was suddenly just gone. He could not ever remember swearing a belief in a god before and pondering the situation. Someone to his right gripped his arm.

        “It’s okay,” a gentle voice said helping him back to his feet.

        The man who could not remember his name glanced at her.  She had deep red hair sparkling blue eyes. Her smile was gentle and calming. Again, a tranquil feeling washed over him. All he could do was smile back at her. She wore a crimson robe open to the front revealing her nakedness for anyone willing to gaze at her.

        “Welcome Destined One,” a voice rang like chimes from his left.

        Another equally alluring beauty grabbed his other arm. Her hair more radiant then the sun and her blue eyes reflected the depths of the oceans. She smiled seductively at him and he actually blushed. She was dressed identically to the woman on his right.

        “Yes, welcome back,” came a male voice from in front of him. The trees parted from the clearing and out walked a dark haired man. He was dressed in a full crimson robe revealing nothing, but his was adorned with purple and gold stitching and not like the simple affair, the women wore.

        “Back?” the man with no name said. “Where am I and who am I?”

        The man smiled a friendly smiled almost laughing at his plight of memory. He approached the altar and the flames reacted racing ever faster.

        “Yes Norman, back. It is with great pleasure that we meet you once again.”

        Norman brows furled. “Where am I?”

        “Inconsequential,” he responded glancing to the east.

        Norman followed his gaze and noticed the dark clouds gathering at the horizon approaching the eclectic group. The robed man frowned at the sight.

        “We must be quick about it then.”

        “Quick about what?” Norman asked.

        “You are the Destined One, born of Mu, blessed with the blood of dragons and yes, you were here once before when you died receiving their blood.”

        Something rang true in Norman’s mind. A key turned and the events of the last few minutes of his life thrust forward breaking the bonds of amnesia.

        “I don’t understand.”

        “No my child you do not. You have been so blessed to become the instrument of our revenge against our enemies that stretch back eons. We sent you back once before, but you were given a gift born of blood and amplified by the accursed dragons. You have it in you now to return whence you came.”

        Norman’s memory completely returned, but he could not remember being here before, although it did seem very familiar.

        “You are of dragon blood, an Assassin of the Gods. We will assist your return but you must remember this, our time for revenge is near. It is closer now than it ever was and it will be complete. Seek out Scirocco of Arachnos and he will instruct you in your heritage and you can claim true power. Believe not in false prophecies, because Lord Recluse is only a tool manipulated by us to reach our ends.”

        The dark haired man gestured to the woman to his right and she thrust a bird into his hand. She got from a green sack he had not noticed her holding before. He held the bird by its legs near its talons. It was twice the size of a pheasant and if it were not the maroon gold plumage with iridescent neck feathers, he would have thought it to be such. It batted its wings in an attempt to escape and he nearly let go. He held the large bird up when it tried to peck at his naked body.

        “You hold in your right hand a phoenix of legend,” the dark haired man continued.

        The blonde woman placed a dagger in his left hand and wrapped his fingers around the hilt. He looked down at the blade that seemed almost carved in stone, but the handle seemed made of silver with minor settings of various jewels.

        “In your left is a dagger carved from the petrified heart of a dragon.”

        Thunder rolled from the east and Norman watched lightning flash again, the storm grew closer still. He still had many questions, like what if he did not want to be an Assassin of the Gods, just thinking it sounded preposterous. He had study what information he could about Occam’s Razar, which really answered very little. It seemed to him the title these unusual familiar strangers imposed on him were greatly exaggerating.

        “I don’t understand,” Norman said holding up the dagger and phoenix. “I died how I can return?” He could tell the dark haired man grew impatient, but breathe deeply to remain clam.

        “My son,” he forced a smile, “the legend of the phoenix has been… embellished a bit. The true phoenix, when it dies, is consumed by flames so it can be reborn from its own ashes. It is not impervious to fire, much like you. You have reached the pinnacle of your abilities this will become easier for you.”

        Norman stood surprised, telling the story that way seemed to make sense. Occam’s Razar had said humankind forgot the true face of dragons seeing only what they became; maybe the phoenix legend was the same way.

        “Kill the phoenix, claim its life, and return to whence you came and revenge our kind once and for all.”

        The Rogue Isle Protector smiled back at the dark haired man. He understood now. Paying no more attention to the divinely beautiful women at his side, he held the phoenix out over the fire and cut of the birds head off with the knife. The blood from the phoenix fell upon the flame like gasoline and the fire rose up consuming the bird.

        “Do not let go,” the dark haired man said.

        The phoenix’s body responded violently almost tearing its headless burning corpse from his grasp. Norman tried to control the flame, but could not. The fire ran up his arm and immediately spread all over his body. He screamed from the pain, but held tight. Once again, the Protector was consumed by flames.

        The small band of green robed guides scoured the empty cavern; their bright glowing green eyes amplified the little light that existed. They found wooden crates filled with supplies and the scenes of a large battle.

        “Here are the remains of a summoning portal,” the leader said traversing the cooled molten ground. He recognized some of the portal etchings but apparently, an extreme heat had literally melted the stone. Large claw marks were forever etched in the floor from where the heated rock had melted.

        “Here,” one of the guides reported bringing a strange red metallic helmet to their circle leader. “I found it by the empty supply alcove over there.”

        The leader grasped the helmet and rotated it in his palms. The traitorous Nightcasters had been here and the fact they missed them ticked him off. What did make him happy was the dozens of bodies they found littered everywhere. It was though their true god had struck out in vengeance as payment for their heresy.

        “Do you think any escaped?” another member of the scout party asked.

        The leader shrugged. It did not matter; they were on the run and their numbers dwindling rapidly. History would soon for get the threat of Nightcasters and the Circle of Thorns would in time rule the world. He crouched to the cavern floor and dusted off a modern armored chest plate that appeared to have survived a great heat. Attempting to wipe off the charcoal and ash, he uncovered the dulled red image of a spider. He knew the symbol of Arachnos immediately, but did not know why was here. Further digging through the ashes, he found a partially burnt uniform and belt. The belt seemed almost untouched. He watched a breeze catch some of the remains and twirl it into a small vortex. What he failed to realize was there was no breeze in the cavern.

        Norman was reborn unto Earth in flesh and blood rising once again from his ashes. The four Circle of Thorn members did not scream because there was no time. The thunderous fiery explosion erupted filling the cave and Norman coalesced from the very heart of the flames and ash hovering in the middle the previously darkened cave. He gently lowered to the floor fully clothed in his Protector regalia. Although he looked like he had walked through a blast furnace, his breastplate melted in places, scorch marks, and holes in the spandex-like material.

        He could not but help to feel his appendages to make sure everything was still with him. The memory of his afterlife was still clear in his head. He did not know if he liked be used like he was, but for the time being he would have to go along with it. Everything had changed now, patience and time was required to decide on the best course of action.

        Norman checked the contents of the metallic pouches on the inside his belt. The contents were still their and seem to have survived the fiery combat. He rebooted his helmet and already twelve hours had passed from when he first revealed his true form to Thauma. Gripping Brian’s mediport device in his hands he headed back toward the surface. If he was fast, he could get a free ride from the Paragon City emergency system and still maintain the value of the device. He had a sneaky suspicion his true love had survived.

        Thauma Guard walked wearily down the Chiron Medical Center in Atlas Park still wore the clothes from the night before. She and Ginger Blaze ere going out to it until Norman arrived brining a contingent of Longbow with him. Now her attire gave the impression she was employed by a chimney sweep company and had a rough night.

        Arriving alone at the elevators, she pressed the button for the third floor a bit more exhausted. She and some members of the Onami had spent the last couple of hours going through Brian’s apartment. Voltech ended up kicking her out promising to take care of Brian’s personal belongings. Thauma had been at his place in Founder’s Falls and his Kings Row apartment was an indication of just how far he really had fallen. The signs seemed so evident with hindsight and she silently blamed herself for letting him hit rock bottom alone.

        The elevator dinged on the third floor and opened up. Walking into Sarah Starlings room brought back emotions. Occam’s Razar stood like a sentinel holding Sarah’s hand and his eyes still never lost the passion of the sun. His left arm was in a sling.

        “How is she?”

        “Unchanged,” Occam responded laying her hand down. “She is still in a coma. No brain activity.” He was worried about Thauma; his outside observations of the Onami Strike Force was telling him they were approaching a turning point. One that could cost more lives if not acted upon. “How are you?”

        “Okay,” the tall ebony women said still two feet short than the drake. She curled up on one of the visitor’s chair, unable to fight off fatigue any longer. The events already over twelve hours ago seemed like a distant dream or somebody’s bad writing.

        “How are you holding up?”

        “I will survive. My friends at Paragon City University are already assisting the hospital stuff in preparations to replace my arm. You should go rest, nothing more can be done.”

        From the fetal position, she eyed the big guy and sighed. Silently the loss of the others finally caught up to her. She wept years ago for Aaron, but with Brian, Norman, Bow, the feelings she buried for the best of Onami assaulted her. She fought back feeling like she was losing Aaron all over again. She could not go through it again.

        “Is Brian still alive?” she asked.

        Occam’s Razar thought a second before answering. He had seen the other side when he emerged upon the Envoy. It had not been what he was expecting. “I am not sure. It is possible, but I will not lie, the Dark Lord will be furious and so will the Envoy. No one person has ever escaped their wrath.”

        “You did, once.”

        Razar shook his head know to what she referring. “No, I sacrificed my life even then. I find myself blessed to once again able to offer that life for humankind.”

        “Why did he do it?” Thauma asked referring to Brian.

        “One can only run for their true self for so long. We saw that at the end.”

        “There had to be another way.”

        “Maybe, Brian had to figure it out himself.” Occam’s Razar responded. He then realized she was not truly referring to Brian. “Thauma let him go, its okay.”

        “What?” she said sitting up from the blue recliner.

        “He would not want you to suffer as you do.”

        Emotions long buried erupted drowning Thauma. She gasped and her heart raced grasping what the drake meant. Brian’s sacrifice opened an old wound of loss, emptiness, and abandonment. She struggled for breath mouthing Aaron’s name silently. The half-dragon saw the truth even when she did not. She fought back tears refusing to suffer the torment once again.

        Occam stepped over to her to offer comfort and she got up and almost fell into his strong thick arms. Humans were so emotional to the drake a trait he shared far too easily with them.

        “I can't let him go.  Without him, I feel empty, like there's a hole in my heart.  If I could, I would gladly die too, to be with him again.”

        “No my child,” Occam said consoling her. “Face your loss and remember Aaron for his achievements in life, not for his absence in death. Brian would want the same. ”

        He held on to her for a few minutes before the door to Sarah’s room opened bringing the hero known as Stateside in.

        “Occam’s Razar, I am glad you’re here,” the dark skinned man said. He wore the hero uniform of Homeland Security. Under a new executive order signed by the President of the United States, Homeland Security was authorized to employ what ever means necessary to achieve their objectives. More specifically, they swore in those of Paragon City and the rest of society. People who called themselves heroes became official U.S. federal employees. Stateside was one of the first to enlist in their ranks. His use of the broadsword and advanced prototype body armor was tuned by Occam’s Razar’s help. He even sponsored him to Thauma to join the Onami Strike Force. He was so dedicated to fighting crime he fought for the government by day, and at night, he fought for the Onami.

        Thauma broke the comforting grip of Occam and went into the bathroom to compose herself.

        “What is the problem?” the drake asked.

        “I need to get you out of here, there is a warrant out for your arrest,” he responded.

        “Why?”

        “This morning Crey Industries filed lawsuit against Hero Corps for the falsification of your membership records, and for theft and destruction of their property, among other charges. Paragon City University and your name also appear alongside the Hero Corps. Your Hero License has been revoked pending the trial. I believe the University will be kicking you off campus.”

        Occam’s Razar was stunned. He had wondered if his association with the selfish organization of Hero Corps would come back to haunt him. Apparently, it had. He still had details to plan to return the elf known as Occam’s Bow to her homeland and this only complicated the matter. He would have taken down Crey Industries long ago if it was not for the fact the Countess and her minions ran legitimate business. The surrounded themselves with the innocent and did so by the thousands. If Crey fell, they would suffer too. The challenge of taking on an organization like that was completely foreign to the drake. During his time, the differences between good and evil were more evident. When the dragons needed to wipe out evil, they just acted. Nowadays that was not always the best solution.

        The Rogue Isle Protector slipped out one of the hospitals windows before anyone could even respond to the false arrival of News Flash. It was already the evening of the next night. He must have waited in that clearing far longer than he thought. Using the gadgets of Arachnos, he was able to locate Occam’s Razar and listen in on the conversation. When he heard is love it took a great resolve to stop from rushing down there to proclaim his return from the dead. He dropped behind the hospital hidden by darkness. He had over heard the plans about how to get Occam’s Razar out of the hospital, so he waited like a ghost in the darkn