Mechagogue

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  1. "Hi, Hal. How's it going," Xander said dully, his head cocked to one side as he was still being dragged around by the ear. His neck was starting to get a kink in it.

    "What about the Rikti, indeed," Jon growled.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Things had been going far too well for Chief Soldier Chezret. Certainly it went against the mission parameters for him to have survived this long. Being the first, last, and only line of defense against counter-attacks from the mainland, he should have been overwhelmed by sheer numbers long ago.

    But the heroes were not military personelle, and Chezret had begun to notice that they fought as individuals. Even with their superior numbers, they were not ofering much resistane to Chezret's highly disciplines fighting force.

    [Indicates Individualist's Battle Deficiencies to: Kanocht,] the Chief Soldier said, [Small Unit: Superior to Mob.]

    [The old ways of thinking are why our people spent six solar cycles cowering beneath the surface of this world,] Kanocht retorted.

    [Thoughts of Kanocht: Too Human. Understanding: Limited.]

    It was then that the first wave of heroes breached their line, not from the water but from south of their position. The few Headmen among the rabble of Conscripts immediately turned the troops towards them, and gave the order to open fire with plasma rifles.

    [Artillery Positions: Maintain Vigilance!] Chezret shouted, drawing his side-arm and blasting at a fire-sword brandishing hero who had raced over his re-positioning front line and attacked the Communications Officer. The plasma blast hit him squarely, stunning the eager hero. The Chief Soldier surged forward, spinning through the air with his mighty sword held in a single hand. It slashed deeply through the eager hero's chest, sending him down to the ground.

    He would never again stand up.

    Kanocht was pleased, as he was finally able to unleash his awesome power on the Earth Heroes. The Rikti Power Sapper blasted them one at a time, and watched them crumble. They would soon know the most humiliating death in all the worlds. . . Death by Monkey.
  2. Jon didn't stop walking as the debate with Svetlana intensified, so when After-Image suggested they keep moving he was already out of earshot.

    "I don't speak Russian because I'm not in Russia! If I was in Russia I'd have the decency to learn to speak it, but I'm not going to live in Russia, I don't plan on going to Russia, and if you're a representative of your people I don't want to talk to Russians!"

    "Ow! Dad! Don't take it out on me! Seriously, lady, stop helping," Xander griped. Jon's level of irritation was causing him to squeeze harder on his son's ear whether he meant to or not.

    "And don't you even consider the things that come out of your mouth before you say them," the Detective demanded, un-disauded by his son, "If Russian politicians were like American politicians then the USSR would still be around. But they're not, and it isn't. If you're going to argue against capitalism, you should at least have an arguement that stands up!"

    Jon looked from side to side, stumped by an intersection that he didn't recognize.

    "It's that way," Xander offered, pointing left. They both headed that way a moment later.
  3. [ QUOTE ]
    "As both... men arrived to him, am nyet thinkink you are to be blamink son for them." Svetlana hissed to Jon as the Russian scientist walked forward, "Am also nyet thinkink is time. Rikti devise can nyet be good for weak capitalists above."

    [/ QUOTE ]
    Jon blinked several times in shock at Rad Spike before opening his mouth.

    "How many ways can one person go wrong in so short a space of time? Ok, Number One; Speak English! You're in America. Number Two; He's my son and not yours, so keep your opinions to yourself. And Three; There is nothing weak about capitalists, you self-important commie! It was YOUR government that collapsed, not ours!

    The Detective grabbed Xander by the ear and headed uphill, "Come on, we're getting out of here!"

    "Ow! Dad! Ow ow ow . . . ." the boy protested as he was dragged along.
  4. "I think he's alright," Xander replied to Nena's question as he sat his father down. The Black Dwarf seemed to deflate and solidify once more into the teenager's form.

    "What the holy hell is the matter with you, young man?! What are you thinking, running around in a sewer chasing Rikti and heaven-knows-what-else is down here," Jon berated, taking a moment to scrape something highly distasteful off his shoe, "Not to mention the company you're keeping," he growled, glaring in turn at Guapo and Weilder.

    "Yeah," Xander whispered quietly to Nena from underneath his slumped shoulders, "He's fine."
  5. Kefetasura sighed. This could go on forever. If he wasn't going to be able to win, and it didn't seem like he was, then he was going to do his damnedest to make sure the winnder was who he wanted it to be, and since and immune Morsko was less a threat than an immune Toy Dispenser. . .

    A wave of powerful telekinetic force shot out from Kefetasura's outstreched hand, sweeping up and against Rosie, and Combat Toy, and Toy Dispenser, and Mini-Bot, and anyone else in that general area.
  6. [Objective; Portal Corps. Primary Mission; Capture Asset, secondary mission; neutralize. Unit Chezret Assignment: Rear Guard. Field Deployment; Aquatic Vessel Hub.]

    The message came clearly into the minds of Chief Soldier Chezret and his men. The unspoken message was clearer still. They were being punished for their lack of total resolve. Chezret had, at one point, had the misfortune of wondering if the invasion of this world had been worthwhile. Since that time his unit had suffered some of the least desirable assignments in the Rikti army. This latest one, he assumed, was meant to simply kill him.

    The earth men would scramble their best heroes directly to the objective site, where they would meet a concentrated resistance. Chezret, on the other hand, would have to deal with the waves of heroes that would inevitably pack themselves onto the Talos Island ferryboats and storm Peregrine in response. It was clear that he was to be allotted no reinforcements, as the Warmasters had decided that a mobile rear guard comprised mostly of urban assualt squads patroling the southern half of the island would be tactically superior to a large, stationary, defense force. Perhaps, if his perfomance here today were adequate, he might be permitted an honorable remembrance after his death.

    In the distance, they could make out the first of the ferryboats approaching.

    Chezret hefted his massive sword upon his shoulder, the feel of it sliding against his power armor was reassuring. His personal Guardian wrapped him in a protective forcefield. With a quick mental glance he confirmed that his few loyal troops were in position.

    His mind turned to his Communications Officer.

    [Expendables; Begin Placement.]

    The Comm Officer nodded, opening a portal near the dock through which swarmed hundreds of monkies and several dozen Conscripted Rikti. Chezret looked over them and pitied them; Not for their inevitable defeat, of course. But for their lack of significant numbers. He turned to Kanocht, the token power sapper he had been issued. Not being able to tolerate the sappers 'individual' attitude, Chezret turned from him just as quickly.

    [Artillery Positions;] Chezret informed, [Target; Aquatic Vessel; Commence Bombardment.]

    Two giant gouts of Rikti plasma-fire erupted from positions in the tall buildings nearby and streaked for the ferry. One impacted the water slightly off the starboard sie of the vessel, a huge torrent of near-boiling water blasted into the air like a geyser, and the ferry rocked hard, but harmlessly. The second ball found it's mark. A huge hole bored through the hull at a downward angle, burning many of the heroes onboard and forcing their mediporters to activate.

    Chezret took a brief moment to appreiciate the cleverness of where they were truly headed.

    The engines were ruined and the boat began to list. It was taking water at an unbelievable rate. Soon the air above the boat was full of flying heroes, buzzing about the mortally wonded vessel like confused hornets.

    [Teleport Dampening Shield: Initiate,] he ordered, the Comm Officer obeyed. It wasn't long before the shield was flaring brightly, and confused heroes splashed down helplessly in the water a dozen yards from shore.

    [Artillery Positions; Fire Commencement Priority: Primary; Additional Aquatic Vessels, secondary; earth heroes. Commence Fire: At Will.]

    The air came to life with blazing Rikti plasma. There were very many secondary targets.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Xander quickly realized the energy surrounding the portal would block his attempts to get through, so he canged direction mid-teleport and went out of the chamber. He teleported quickly, trying to stay ahead of the gas, his father tucked under one massive hand.

    "Don't worry, we're going to be ok," he tried to sound reassuring, which may not have worked as, so far as Jon could tell, his son was now a giant space lobster.
  7. Helper examined his hand in something like confusion. It seemed fully intact, but Morsko had taken the egg from inside his hand without touching him.

    "Interesting," he noted.
  8. [ QUOTE ]
    Cortianna's eyes narrowed as she felt the psionic waves coverge. Dropping Combat Toy from her own telekinetic grasp, she wrapped her egg in a field of energy while flinging a bolt of fire at Kefetasura.

    "Get one from the others freak job."

    [/ QUOTE ]
    The flame struck the demon squarely in the shoulder, causing a good portion of the front of his colorful shirt to smolder. He glanced down at his ruined shirt, and back at Cortianna.

    "Ok, two things. Number one; Ouch! And, Number Two; You want to play rough, you little misanthrope? Fine by me!"

    Kefetasura made a powerful slashing gesture with his arm, a telekinetic wave sliced through the air, cutting into the sand at Cortianna's feet at an extreme angle. Naturally, the sand flew everywhere. The demon made a circular motion with his other hand, and the flying sand began to spin around Cortianna in a minature sandstorm.

    Though the destructive capability of sandstorms was well known, that wasn't what he was after. A beam of sickly red force shot forth from his eyes, surrounding the storm in a pulsating red ring. Kefetasura reached his hand up, and closed it with a quick snap, and a pantomine of tugging backwards. The ring imploded, cutting through everything inside before the force returned to his hand to be absorbed.

    ((Ok, it sounds really weird, but this is just a different aesthetic for a ball lightning type of attack.))
  9. "This isn't my room," Kefetasura grumbled the soldier led him inside the chamber, "The air's too dry, and it's too bright in here. And the man in the blue cloak is a liar. I can't prove it, but I know there's more to him than what he claims. . . Of course, he could be standing in front of you and be more than he claims!

    "You know, don't you?" the demon said in a conspiratorial tone as he sat cross-legged on the thin straw mat. "I mean, he has to be, doesn't he? Trying to see another mind with him around is like trying to see a panther on the far side of a fire at night. It just can't be done!"

    The soldier said nothing, his face plainly revealed his discomfort at being so close to this raving purple lunatic.

    "Of course you don't," Kefetasura said, defeat evident in his voice, "Well, let me tell you some other things you don't know, Bradley!"

    "How do you...?" the soldier said, shocked. His question was never finished. Kefetasura didn't give him the time to do so.

    "When you were seven your father left home with another woman. Your mother only told you that he was chosen to serve in the Army of Life," the demon chuckled, "You see, I know all about lies. Now, I wonder; How do you feel knowing the truth, Bradley? All the resentment you felt through your life against the people who took your daddy away from you, totally unjustified. Your motivation to fight against them wiped away. How will this affect you tommorow?"

    "The Overmagus is . . . ."

    ". . . Evil, and he needs to be blah, blah, blah. Lies. All of life is based on lies, Bradley. I wonder what your svadharma might have been if your mother wasn't a shameful coward?"

    Bradley's face flushed with anger, and his jaw clenched, "You have your room," he said through gritted teeth, "And I have more important things to do than this."

    Teeth ground against each other as Bradley stormed out of the room, closing Kefetasura in a bit more emphatically than was necessary.

    The demon chuckled. He was getting a hold on the strands of this time and place in samsara; which was very difficult indeed, since the flow of the cycle had stopped and everywhen was happening all at once.
  10. Kefetasura had a look on his face as he stalked back down the patio path to the beach. It was a strange look, the look of a man who knew he was defeated, and was resolved to take as many people down with him as he could.

    The demon turned his attention to egg number 10, in the possession of Cortianna. If Kefetasura wasn't going to win, he damn well wasn't going to let that annoying brat beat him! He blasted the egg with every telekinetic attack he could, barraging it with forces from every direction.
  11. Helper nodded his acknowledgement, taking the egg in one giant hand. His massive fingers easily enshrouded the little egg completely.

    Kefetasura decided now would be a good time to sneak off to the patio and see if any eggs were left. To his dismay, both cartons were empty. He slunk back down to the beach, looking for a good one to steal.

    ((For anyone like me that is scatter-brained and finds it hard to keep track of this sort of information over the course of several days: Eggs remaining, and their present holders; 3-Lily, 9-Pyro, 10-Cortianna, 11-Toy Dispenser, 12-Mini-Bot, 13-??? (Missing since the selection), 19-Helper & Experiment, 24-Morsko. Happy hunting! ^_^ ))
  12. "Excellent work, sir," Helper praised, reaching a hand out over the egg. Thin blue pearlescent lines issued from his fingertips, penetrating the egg and causing it to glow a faint yellow color. It grew rather heavy in Experiment's hand.

    "There. If my calculations are correct, based on the destructive force of the previous explosions we've witnessed, the shell of this egg should remain intact even if the charge is ignited. The yolk and albumin will, unfortunately, be very badly scrambled. However, they, at least theoretically, should provide enough of a buffer to prevent the total destruction of the egg."
  13. Helper's keen eyes had detected the unbroken egg in the sand near the tree. Combat Toy managed to change direction to assault Cortianna just in time to avoid it. He pointed it out to Experiment.

    "There is number 19, still unbroken," he said, hitting the armored hero with a Speed Boosting kinetic slipstream. Retrieve it and I can attempt the density manipulation."

    Kefetasura, in the meantime, aimed a telekinetic thrust at the egg being struggled over by Moonscribe and Stellarmare, hoping that the sheer number of forces acting on it would pop the thing like . . . . Well, like an egg.
  14. Helper scanned around for Kaloaten, before turning to Experiment.

    "Perhaps Master Kaloaten would be kind enough to lend us one of his, as a show of gratitude for my earlier gift to him. In that case, we should probably help divert Combat Toy and aid the boy in getting out of the tree."
  15. Kefetasura looked down at the sticky slimy mess in his hand.

    "Awww! What a rip-off!" he complained.

    ((I guess we should really slow down a bit, cause a lot of eggs have been blown up already and not everyone has had a chance to react. =/ ))
  16. Ever on the lookout to improve his odds, Kefetasura gave Combat Toy a telekinetic 'nudge' in the direction of Kaloaten. If the extraterrestrial boy wanted to horde eggs, let him try and save them from a rampaging assault-bot! The demon grinned wickedly.

    Helper, though not nearly as competitive by nature, did understand objectives. His primary objective was to be holding the final intact egg at the end of the competition. However, he was also clever enough to realize that if he aided one of the other contestants in preserving their egg, he would, therefore, become less likely to be voted against by the victor. In this way Helper scheduled himself a secondary objective as well.

    He turned to the closest contestant with an unbroken egg. It happened to be Experiment 2.0.

    "With your permision, Mister Experiment," he said quietly, "I would like to increase the molecular density of your egg, thereby making it more resistant to both crushing and detonation."
  17. Somehwere along the border of Oranbega. . . .

    The Army of Steel was comprised of thousands of identical machines, each designed to function very well in the field of combat. The Secret Police was, likewise, composed of many thousands of men comitted to the stability of the government. Occasionally these two orginzations would find that their goals coincided, and when that happened it was protocol to make use of an Arbitrator. The Arbitrator, however, was not there to resolve the jurisdictional conflict as much as to simply remove it.

    AHMAD (Arbitrator: Hermes-Model Assault Drone) was one such Arbitrator. Legend held that it was tinkered together by a robotics genius a century ago, and forgotten in a weapons locker until the Army of Steel stumbled across it when they sacked the labs Paragon City in the End Times. According to the story, the thing was so far ahead of its' time that they comandeered it, enlisting it into active service where it remained to this day. Most folks didn't put much stock in that kind of talk, however.

    Standing at an impressive height of three meters and weighing in the neighboorhood of two tons, AHMAD was anything but subtle. It was painted a red so dark it might have been mistaken for black, and the machine was equipped with all the standard assault weaponry; twin plasma cannons, flamethrower, and shoulder-mounted mini-missile racks capable of single fire or salvo bursts. In addition, as if that was not enough, the magitech hulk could route massive electrical charges throughout it's superstructure, which made it very difficult to harm.

    Perhaps the most disturbing feature of the massive war machine was it's head. Purple LED lights were configured into a genial face-like pattern; A face it now had cast down at the Secret Police Officer in charge of the scene.

    "Situation," it requested in a cold, aniseptic voice.

    "Oranbegan rebels have been disseminating slanderous lies impuning the Overmagus, and conducting raids from this location," the officer said in a professional but nervous tone.

    "Desired Outcome?"

    "Neutralize the threat presented to the local populace by subversive Enemies of the State."

    "Collateral Threshold?"

    "Minimal, if possible."

    "Command Confirmed."

    AHMAD tromped thunderously up to the cave entrance. The Archers standing guard loosed their crossbow bolts at it. They bounced off its' plating with a slight ping and a faint whiff of ozone. It stopped a menacing distance from the cave. Weapons powered to life with a sinister whine.

    "Plead Your Case," the Arbitrator ordered.

    Several Mages rushed out to defend their comrades, rallying behind the cry "Long Live Zoria!"

    "Arguement Insufficient," AHMAD concluded as it opened up the blast shields of it's plasma cannons. Twin waves of super-heated blueish white plasma vaporized the Archers.

    "We need time," a mage barked over his shoulder into the cave. A ghastly battle-cry shrieked out from the Oranbegans stronghold. Waves of Thorn Weilders swept down the slope to batter AHMAD with their cursed weapons. Its' defenses went into proactive mode. Generators hummed deep inside the beast, and giant arcs of electricty discharged from it, striking at everything nearby. What the flashing blasts of electricity did not accomplish, AHMAD's massive club-like arms finished off with ruthless efficiency.

    The sound of maleficent chanting ululated dimly beneath the terrible screams and wet thuds of the battle.

    "What're they up to," The Secret Police Officer wondered aloud. An Adamantium Golem shrugged in response.

    A swirling green and black portal of flame coalesced in the air between the chanting Mages.

    "We give ourselves to you! We die this day that our War may be won!"

    The half dozen Mages standing around the portal were drawn off their feet and pulled through the air towards the hungering disc. Their bodies were compressed and crushed and rent asunder, and the disjointed pieces were quickly consumed, accompanied by the horrible sounds of snapping bones.

    Three massive tentacles unfurled themselves from the eye of the portal. They slapped the ground with earth-shaking force, sending clouds of dust into the air. The tentacles found purchase, and soon were straining, as if dragging a great weight behind them. From the portal burst one clawed hand, then another. Both hands dug into the ground and pulled along with the tentacles.

    Then, all at once, a collosal demon extricated itself from the portal. It stood as tall as a three story building, and towered above AHMAD. Its' upper body was that of a rhinocerous (if rhinos had three rows of serrated teeth, humanoid arms and hands that ended in four foot long claws), and the lower half of it's body was a mass of tentacles that flowed and shifted as to make it impossible to count them.

    AHMAD gazed up at the beastly creature, a tiny red dot painted it's chest. It was beneath the demons notice as it breathed heavily and snarled menacingly at the Arbitrator. From behind, AHMAD could hear the sound of the Secret Police falling back to a safe position.

    "Plead Your Case," AHMAD said flatly.

    "I am summoned to break the bones of the world, and bathe in a sea of blood. Your lives are forfeit. Your time is expired. Your world shall end with the suffering of ages," the demons mighty voice thundered across the sky like mountains collapsing

    "Arguement Insufficient."

    Missile racks snapped open and AHMAD unleashed its' full complement of mini-missiles; a twenty-four pack of three kiloton laser guided micro-fusion rockets. The blast was equal to 144 million pounds of TNT, and it was centered on a single demon.

    Well, a single ex-demon.

    A veil of dust as dark as night blocked out the sun. All that remained of the demon was a smoking crater.

    "That's freakin awesome," the Officer said, "We need to get more of those Arbitrator things. They certainly know how to earn a state funeral."

    AHMAD came tromping out of the dust cloud and made its' way straight for the Secret Policeman, who gaped at the hulk in awe and disbelief.

    "Threat Neutralized," was all AHMAD said.
  18. Kefetasura looked at his surroundings with wary and suspicious eyes, his head tucked protectively between his shoulders.

    "You," he said, more at the blue-cloaked man than to him. It wasn't an accusation or an admision of suprise. Just a simple statement of fact.

    "When am I," he asked in a disoriented voice that spoke with the spark of the ages, "You." he said again, then added quickly, "Did I say that already?"

    The demon walked around the room, trying not to touch anything.

    "Has the giant robot destroyed the mages yet? How long has it been since the shift? Dear me, everything seems to be happening all at once all across Maya. The End Times were terrible, weren't they? . . . Wait. . . I know you? Or I did? Or perhaps I will one day? Have you ever been on television? Didn't you get killed by a demon? Not me. A different one. Of course you didn't! You're standing here now. No, must concentrate on this version of now. . . "

    He rubbed his fingertips deep into his temples.

    "Alright, I think I have it. You are the lead computer programmer at your place of business, and you prefer to have a normal cubicle like everyone else. Because . . . Because . . . Because an office would be of little importance to you?"
  19. "You may have mine, sir, if you would like," Helper offered Kaloaten the number 4 egg as he shuffled over to the egg-battered boy. "I suppose this is what they mean by the expression 'to have egg on one's face.'"

    "No it isn't, you silly metal boob," Kefetasura said quickly, "And the idea is to be holding an egg at the end!"

    "True, sir. But I fail to see how that objective is compromised by giving away a single egg that is statistically likely to not be the final egg."

    "That's a losing attitude," Kefetasura said blandly.
  20. "Ooh, goody!" Kefetasura said with glee. "This is going to be even more fun than I dreamed!"

    Helper chose to acknowledge Unit Lyden with a simple "Understood, sir."
  21. [ QUOTE ]
    "I suppose I should go, I'm finished. And.. Kefetasura? Please come to my room after whatever this is is complete." As he turned to make eye contact with the demon, his eyes glinted in a way that could only be described as.. ambitiously. "I'd much like to continue discussing that tea metaphor- I found it interesting."

    [/ QUOTE ]
    "It was a wonderful little chat, wasn't it? So very personable," Kefetasura grinned at Tomanton.

    [ QUOTE ]
    {Lyden]"Pending completion of breakfast, day two 'immunity' challenge will begin. Located on the patio table are eggs numbered one through twenty-four. When ready, select one egg. With priority on safekeeping chosen egg, report to the beach."

    [/ QUOTE ]
    Helper followed along. He shuffled himself up to the carton and carefully extracted egg number 4.

    "This is quite interesting. I wonder what the task will encompass," he mused cheerily as he made his way off to the side, clearing the path for the others.

    Kefetasura slipped into the selection area and placed both hands on the table, looking over the eggs with intense interest. He hemmed and hawed and tsk'd until the less patient contestants were near ready to scream at him. He selected egg number 7 with a chipper grin.

    "Here's my lucky egg," he announced, waving it around in front of everyone rather non-chalantly. He slipped into a patio chair and stroked the egg lovingly..
  22. ((Sorry, this isn't a "new" post. I just took what Khell narrated and ran with it, offering a little more Kef-centered perspective, for the reader's benefit.))

    Even if he had been conscious there would have been little to see but scenery as the train rocketed west from India. It passed through southern Pakistan and into Iran, cutting north to take the speeding train to Turkey, then Greece.

    As the train speed through southeastern Europe, slowly, but surely, the tranqualizer applied to Kefetasura was wearing off. He was groggily returning to consciousness, but intermittenly at best. Occasionally his senses managed to extend out of his enclosure for a moment or two, allowing the demon to hear voices every now and then.

    "-ucking Oranbegans," someone growled. "You hear about the massacre in Paloma last week? [censored] bastards. I've applied for a front line p-"

    Silence again, the mountain held him down and shielded him from extraneous thoughts. Perhaps for a second, perhaps for an epoch. It was irrelevant.

    "So what the hell is this?" came another voice, "Some sort of carnival attraction?"

    "The field mage said it's some sort of demon," came a youngish voice, barely out of his teens. "So we've been ordered to transfer it to New Mu."

    "Hmm..." said the other voice as there came a light rapping on the top of the cage. "Let's not send him the-"

    Not send me where? he thought, faintly concerned, as the blackness enveloped his consciounes again.

    "-fensive positions!" roared a hoarse voiced woman, so loudly it disturbed Kefetasura's magical slumber. "Don't let those damned rebels near! This convoy needs to get to Paragon, now!"

    "They've got biologicals!" shouted a voice, nearly incoherent with panic. "We're all gonna die! We're all gonna die!"

    "Shut the [censored] up and get out there, conscript! Dying is only another chance to serve the Over-!"

    There was a long pause, accompanied by the sounds of faint and distant searching that grew ever closer to his prison, until at last . . . .

    "Hey, hey! I think I found something! Looks like some sort of slave. What do you think, Animator?"

    "I think that we should take him with us," came the reply, the voice heavy with age. "Let my boys take the lead position while you fellows carry the cage."

    And then a sudden sensation of movement. The demon was very nearly recovered from the sedative. His head still swam from the magi-chemical cocktail they had pumped into his veins, but at least now he could branch out his senses and examine his situatution, if only through the eyes of his incidental liberators. In a world of illusions and lies, information was the most powerful weapon one could want, and Kefetasura liked to be heavily armed. . . .
  23. As the hours ticked inexorably forward, Kefetasura's mind was working in both directions.

    Since he had crossed back into Maya, the newly forged lie began to corrupt the illusion. The demon found himself sitting at the foot of his temple, unable to seperate the strings of illusions. He started and scrambled up the stairs when he saw the ethereal forms of a small boy wearing a red blindfold talking to a hulking blonde man with shiny golden gloves.

    "Not this . . . ," he said squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head.

    To add to his confusion, the new lie was working itself backwards, permeating his perceptions of the past. He could now distinctly recall two entirely different versions of the past. To make matters worse, philisophically speaking, they were both lies, and so the small purple skinned man struggled to recall which lie was the original. He laid still beneath the mountain, sleeping until he was needed again. So, when the men came to take him away, he put up no struggle. They carried Kefetasura easily. Kefetasura could not be touched. The mountain would protect him.

    It was the greatest lie of all, the one that fooled the liar.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------

    "Wow, this is some crazy old temple looking thing."

    "Cut the chatter," the commander barked.

    What's this?" said one of the men from the Expeditionary force. The commander waved him on, so he stepped forward to the foot of the temple and prodded Kefetasura's prone body with a toe.

    No response.

    "Whatever he is, I think he's dead."

    "All the better," the Commander said flatly, "Well, it seemed in pretty good shape. Crate it up and get it on the next cargo train to New Mu. They can study it as much as they want, or just reanimate it at their discretion."

    "Sir!" two men responded in unison, picking up the sleeping demon and carrying him off back to their base camp.
  24. Jon had no protection against the gas, and was already hacking and coughing, trying to make his way out of the tunnel. Xander, in his Nova form, didn't need to breathe, but recognized that his father would not survive unless he got out immediately.

    The boy flew at his father, shifting into his Black Dwarf form as he did.

    "Hang on, dad," he said, lifting up the detective and leaping them both through the portal.
  25. Somehwere deep in the jungles of southern India there stood a temple. This temple was not dedicated to any god or incarnation. The temple, like the sole occupant, was a lie. For centuries the people had believed that the world we see everyday was an illusion, and what was real was hidden by Maya, the illusion of reality. Such complicated illusions as life needed constant policing, and this particular lie had, for millenia, been responsible for the policing of samsara -- the cycle of karma; Creation, Preservation, Destruction. This lie had a name, as all good lies do. It's name was Kefetasura.

    And all at once, something was dreadfully wrong.

    Kefetasura looked from side to side in his tiny temple. He stalked over to his bookshelves, bright multi-colored clothes swished lightly as he walked. The faint sound of bells echoed through the temple with each step. His fingers closed upon a thick leather-bound sutra, and his eyes scanned quickly through its' pages.

    "Impossible!" he cried out.

    Pages and pages of history were dedicated to Overmagus Archlich, an entity who quite simply had not figured into history mere minutes ago! After all, when you are a lie, you have a very good sense of what a lie looks like. But if his lie was reflected in what had already come to pass, then . . . .

    "Oh no," the demon gasped breathlessly. A look of horror crossed his handsome purple face, as if the most terrible of things, something that could never conceivably happen, something that was so far beyond the power of all of reality combined, had just become possible. He dropped the sutra, it clattered to the warm stone floor.

    There was no sound of bells nor gently swishing cloth as the demon ran to the most sacred portal that existed to him. It was the one place in all of creation that Maya did not exist, the gateway through which he could pass to observe samsara directly.

    He closed his eyes and stepped through the gate. He knew the inconceivable terror that awaited him before he opened them. Samsara, the cycle of all, the only truth in a cosmos of illusion, had ground to a halt.

    "We are doomed," Kefetasura said softly, his eyes welling with tears.

    ((PS: I wrote this while listening to that song!))