In a large, dark room cluttered with weapons, broken gadgets and clothes all mixed together into a senseless heap with no hint of order or organization anywhere, a heavyset bearded man swirled a yellow liquid in his glass, puffing from a fat cigar that sent bursts of white smoke up towards the ceiling.
He was leaning back against a chair that was on two legs, looking like it would fall at any moment. His legs were stretched out on a sofa that had seen better days. His eyes were fixed on an old CRT TV that would have been apt in a house in the 90s, but despite its age, the image it was showing was clear.
If Helena had been here, she would definitely have had no choice but to experience her jaw dropping once again as she saw that the man was directly patched into the same feed from the government's odyssey broadcast station that they were seeing. It was authorized only to send the broadcast to valid sources that had to be approved after a lot of vetting, and the main delay behind them not seeing what was happening in the odyssey had been that this division was always swamped with requests that were all investigated painstakingly so that only those who had the right to watch an odyssey as it unfolded were given the means to do so.
The TV showed the image of Al and his assistants standing at the edge of the car park, facing down the heroes who looked like they would soon finish the job. Shaking his head but then shrugging, the man took a long swig from his glass… which he promptly spit out when the three villains jumped off.
The chair landed on all four legs as he leaned forward and watched, unblinking, at the sight of the three bouncing off the floor and landing nearby, unharmed. A low, rasping laugh emanated from his throat as he filled the glass from a dusty bottle nearby, and with the corners of his lips raised upward into a smile, he downed the glass again and got to his feet.
Picking something up on the way, he made his way to the door and up the steps that lay beyond. He soon appeared in a room that was almost similar to the one below except for the weapons and the clothes that were missing, and mumbling to himself that he should really clean it up, he walked out the door.
The afternoon sun glared down on the empty street. Turning around to check whether the name of the shop needed to be dusted, he grunted and put out his cigar before walking forward still, the words 'Old Man's Gizmos' framed behind him neatly, standing pristine despite all the years that had come and gone since it had been created.
Putting his hands into one of the deep pockets in his army cargoes, he took out the item he had picked out of his basement. It looked like an unassuming magnum revolver, large but dated, yet when he brushed his finger lovingly over the trigger, it glowed… and transformed into something else.
It was still a magnum, but it looked like the most extravagant one ever created. The grip was emblazoned with historical creatures. Creatures of myth, creatures of legend, creatures of power unimaginable. The metallic part was made of pure gold, interspersed with glowing dots of emeralds and rubies. Its most startling feature wasn't any of these, though… no, it was the ephemeral, half-transparent golden snake curled around the barrel, its head resting right above the muzzle, its tongue slithering out now and then while it looked around with its eyes, curious about the world it had entered into.
Joseph raised his head and raised one eyebrow, searching the sky for his target. He found it to the east, flying into the sun, and with a nod to himself, he raised his other hand… and punched his stomach.
He bent over, coughing, his face a rictus of pain. The dry cough soon turned into a wet one, and a few seconds later, he stood up, his mouth filled with something that had come up his throat.
Opening the cylinder of the gun, he spit it out. When it met the air, it turned out to be a glowing, yellow mass that sank easily into one of the chambers of the gun. Nodding with satisfaction, he closed the cylinder and pulled back the safety… before pointing into the air and shooting as if he was doing it casually.
Taking another cigar out of his pocket, Joseph lit it with a flame that appeared at the tip of his finger. Puffing on it contentedly, he waited, and a few seconds later… a blur descended from the sky, and a body fell to the floor in front of him.
For a brief second, it looked like it had been grasped by a large, golden snake, much like the one on the gun. It disappeared soon after, and when the fashionably dressed man whose three-piece suit was now ruined got up, a gauntlet appeared on his hand and he zeroed in on the only person near him.
With a snarl, he raised the flaming gauntlet to attack… but he froze, and squeaked a lot like a mouse when Joseph disappeared and appeared again in front of him, the muzzle with the head of the snake above it right between the temples of the young man.
He gulped, first, but when he studied the gun, his eyes went wide as he sputtered "One of the ten g-g-g-godly weapons of mankind? Who…"
His jaw dropped when he followed the hand and came upon the face of the one holding the gun. He immediately fell to his knees, and after touching his forehead to the floor, he said, "Ser Joseph! Please pardon this little one for not recognizing you! How can I help you, Ser? My father always speaks about how enlightening it was to train under you!"
Joseph snorted. "I've lost count of how many times I had to hit that little shit on his head each time he slacked off. Oh, I bet he talks about me… but in curses, and no other way. Get to your feet. I have a message for him."
The young man blushed as the truth was exposed. He heaved a sigh of relief when he was told that he could get to his feet, though, and after standing up, he still held his hands behind his back respectfully and waited.
"If I'm not wrong, you're on your way back after delivering a message that the odyssey with your junior brothers should be stopped. Right?"
The young man was shocked, but he hid it well.
"Yes, Ser. But—"
Joseph raised his hand. "Tell him this: the older generation should not meddle into the affairs of the young ones. He trained them, and sent them into the world… so he should be content with sitting back and seeing what happens, no matter what it may be. Got it?"
The young man was taken aback, but after recovering quickly, he said, "Of course, Ser! I didn't know that the villain was under your…"
Joseph glared, and the young dragon choked, his hands reaching up to his throat which had suddenly clammed up as if it was the natural instinct of prey facing its predator. The pressure disappeared in a moment, but a thick sheen of sweat appeared on the young man's face as he said, "Apologies! I'll just do what I'm told!"
With a nod, Joseph turned around. He stayed in that manner until the sounds of the young man's robes fluttering as he shot into the air disappeared, and then, he made his way to the door of his shop.
As soon as he entered… he collapsed to the floor. Drawing in deep, ragged gasps, he clawed his way to a secret compartment behind the counter and took out a wooden box.
Inside lay space for a hundred pills, but only three were left. Putting one in his mouth, he waited, grimacing due to the pain until it finally disappeared and allowed him to breathe normally once again.
Looking down ruefully at the box, he closed it with care and put it back where he had taken it out from.
He thought about going back to the basement, but the pill hadn't finished its job, yet. So, all he could do was struggle to a chair nearby and claw himself onto it, his chest rising and falling rapidly due to the effort.
'Hehe, it's funny…I warned that little shit not to meddle with the affairs of the younger generation, but am I not doing exactly the same thing? But sis, if you were awake right now…oh, you would be so proud. He's really something…'
The smile returned to his lips, and like so, Joseph remained sitting in the darkness, with naught but dust and his memories for company.