Well, that was disappointing, the voice said.
"That wasn't how it was supposed to go," he complained. "They were supposed to pay! I was supposed to show them how weak they really were! But…they just…"
Do not worry. It was a good trial run. Now we know our weak points. Next time it will be better. Besides, we still have one last target.
Yes. The one who he hated most in the world. The one who had pushed him down, abused him, made every day of his life a living hell. That man would finally know what it's like to be afraid.
Yes. Once he's dead, our ascent will begin.
He stopped. "Wait? What? I don't want to kill anyone. I just want-"
Yes, well, I don't really care what you want, the voice said savagely. Suddenly, his hands began moving on their own, something else taking over them. I have bided my time, been patient. But now, at last, my strength has returned. And no longer will I suffer being stuck as nothing more than a voice in your head. Now, my true power will be unleashed. And nothing will hold me back.
For the first time, he felt afraid. When the voice had first arrived, he had thought it was his conscience, a nice, warm voice that helped him survive the day. But then, it became more than that, giving him powers he had only dreamed of, allowing him to finally do things he'd only ever thought of before. It had made him his life something actually worth living for.
He had noticed the sinister edges to it. Destroying the art studio he'd been rejected from or the school he'd gone to the past few years, but those were places that just brought pain and no one had gotten hurt. At least, he didn't think so. Attacking Andrew Stroneman and Luke Decker had also been bad, but he'd only really planned on scaring them, making them feel as afraid and powerless as he felt when they were around.
But now he realized how truly out of control he was. He didn't want anyone to get hurt. But there was nothing more he could do. The voice was in control. All he could do was watch as his father entered the house, the same grumbled expression on his face that he'd had every day of his life.
"Boy, go get me a beer. And be snappy."
But he didn't. He couldn't move a muscle. It wasn't his body anymore.
"No I don't think I will," the voice said through his mouth.
His father turned sharply, a dangerous glint in his eye. "What'd you say boy?"
"I said no," the voice said slowly, as if his father was stupid. "You stupid, fat man."
His father came right for him. "I will not be spoken to that way in my own home. I think you need another lesson in respect, boy!" He raised his fist but before he could even pull it back, something stopped him. He glanced back and saw the threads of his clothes, unraveling and wrapping around his arm, holding it back. "What…is this?"
His belt suddenly loosened, splitting into five different segments, before shooting up and grabbing hold of the man's throat, tightening around it, causing him to choke and splutter.
What are you doing? I couldn't do that! the boy protested.
"I just gave you a smidgeon of my true power and still you used it to create beasts. I was forced to hold back and grow my own power. I gave you enough for your body to become used to it. But now, I no longer am forced to watch my powers be wasted. Your mind is so…disappointing. Your art so…unfulfilling. This world is lost without me. But I am back now and will paint a new world over this bleak one. Starting here."
No! Please don't!
"Why do you defend this man? He abuses you, hates you, makes you feel worthless."
He's still my dad!
"That means nothing to me. I loathe this world and everything in it. I should have cleansed it long ago like the others but was denied. Now, at last, I can complete my work."
What…what the hell are you?
"I am an artist. I take great pleasure in my craft. And I think I'll start right here." With a wave, the ground cracked open and transformed into long, earthen ropes with sharp points that wrapped around his father, forcing him flat.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't do a single thing but watch, his father's screams echoing as he was torn apart, with only one thing going through his head.
This is all my fault.
The aftermath of the incident went by as smoothly as Darian had hoped. Thanks to Master Dark, no one was ever alerted to the incident, so no policemen or firemen came to check out the scene. Swarm was swiftly removed thanks to Darian's disguised men and the new 'Cloak Guard' had already left the scene. Sadly, he did have to inform the security guard on duty's widow that her husband had suffered a heart attack. Better than explaining he'd been murdered.
Darian rewatched the footage, seeing the kids in action. While they still had a long way to go, they already had a knack for their abilities and worked well together. Taking down Swarm at the level they were was no easy feat. The best thing to do would be to eliminate them right now. But there was no way he could do that. So that left him with plan B. Yes, that would work nicely.
If they weren't all dead soon.
"Sir?" he looked up and saw Master Dark enter the room, his cane tapping in front of him. "Swarm is here."
"Ah, good. Let's get this over with." Darian rose up and walked into the main room where his soldiers, lieutenants, and generals awaited. Shen stood near the center, still tapping furiously away at his pad. Darian had hoped a few more of his generals would be here. He could use all the help he could get with what was coming, but no matter.
As soon as he walked in, the far doors opened and Richter walked through, shoving a chained up Aaron Warners AKA Swarm who had an odd mixture of fear and rage across his face.
Darian walked forward in his dark armor, his red cape flowing behind him. "So," he said as he approached. "You are the one who tried to challenge me?"
"Lord Kane," Swarm said, his voice trembling. "You're lucky those kids beat me or else I woul-"
"What?" Darian interrupted. "Do what? If a bunch of kids beat you, what do you think you could do against me?" He turned to his general. "What do you think Richter? What would he do?"
"Nothing," came the firm reply.
"Yes," Darian nodded. "Absolutely nothing. It's always funny to see a rookie like him come along, thinking just because they have a little power they can take on the whole world."
"If I just had my microbots!" Swarm shouted, straining against the chains. "You would be finished. You are so lucky that-"
"Alright, enough blathering." A compartment in Darian's armor popped open and he reached inside, pulling out a small device which he tossed to Swarm's feet.
"Is…is that…" the man stuttered.
"Yes. That is the device you worked so hard on years ago. I am returning it. And, I am giving you these." He raised his hand and several large crates were wheeled up. The doors were cracked open and masses of microbots spilled out. Swarm gaped at the sight. "Release him," Darian ordered and Richter took hold of Swarm's chains, snapping them off smoothly.
"Wh-what? I don't understand."
"Isn't it obvious?" Darian asked with a raised eyebrow. "Never let it be known that I am not the sporting type. You said you could beat me as long as you had your microbots. Well, now you have your little device that I believe gives you greater control than before along with what seems to be five times the amount of microbots you had before. Seems fair enough to me."
Swarm gaped for another second, clearly thinking this had to be some kind of trick, before he moved, snatching up the device and clipping it behind his ear. On his command, the microbots all rose up, practically a mountain of them, ready to attack.
"You just made the greatest mistake of your life, Lord Kane!" he spat with contempt. "Now I will show you and the whole world what I am truly made of. Take this!"
He thrust his hand and the whole wave of microbots came roaring at Darian, threatening to drown him in metal.
Darian looked up at them lazily, raised one fist, and struck.
The shockwave blasted all the microbots back, sending them smashing into the wall and falling back to the ground. Darian then turned to Swarm whose eyes were wide with fear and took a step towards him.
"No, no, no!" Swarm scrambled. With another command, the microbots came to him, wrapping around him like a protective shell and armor.
Darian snorted and moved, dashing so fast across the ground that he appeared in front of Swarm in less than a heartbeat. His hand reached through the hardening microbots with ease, latching onto Swarm and yanking him out. He tried to give another command but now Darian was bored and wanted this to end. He lifted the man up and slammed him back down against the ground so hard that it cracked.
Swarm couldn't even scream, his breath exploding from his lungs as he collapsed on the ground, his microbots falling along with their master.
Darian looked down on him, curling his lip. "Do you have any idea who I am? I am Lord Kane, one of the Emperors of this world. I have destroyed armies and laid waste to armadas. I have taken on the greatest of foes and come out victorious. And yet, you, a scientist who relies solely on his machines, who understands nothing of this world, thinks he can take me on? Do you have any idea the mess you have made? Attacking a school in broad daylight? Exposing yourself and our world so blatantly? I would gladly hand you over to the SRC to be imprisoned or executed. But, it seems today is your lucky day because I have other plans for you. Now get off the floor."
Swarm groaned and tried to lift himself up but seemed unable to. Darian sighed and made a gesture. Richter sighed deeper and leaned over, grabbing hold of Swarm's collar and hefting him up roughly. Swarm gave a soft yelp, wobbling a little on his feet.
"Do you need a minute?" Darian asked dryly.
"Well, may-"
"Too bad. Now, it seems that during your attack on the Cloak Guard at the school, there was another player that no one noticed."
"Huh?"
"Indeed. He even managed to slip beneath our noses. He made another small move last night and we were finally able to get a positive read on his identity. And now, things are so much worse than we ever could have imagined." He looked Swarm dead in the eye, causing the other man to gulp. "I'm going to assume you are at least somewhat familiar with what went down almost sixty years ago, correct?"
"The…uh. The War of the Gods, right?"
"Yes. Well, this…being was a headliner in that war. Nearly devastated an entire continent before he was stopped."
"Let me guess. By you."
"No," Darian replied. "It was the Cloak Guard."
He instinctively reached for the old war wound across his chest but he stopped himself. The memories of that war haunted him to this day. He recalled when the Cloak Guard did battle with that monster, their strikes and attacks shattering the sky itself. And even they had barely won. It had taken all of them to extinguish his power and trap him with their own, sending him deep into space until he crashed into a comet. Where he had waited all these years until an idiot came along, wanting that power, inadvertently releasing him.
That idiot being Darian.
"So tell me, what do you know of the Sculptor?"
Swarm blinked. "Uh…never heard of him."
"No, you wouldn't have. The SRC and most of the rest of us tried to erase him. His power is godlike. He is a being from another world, another dimension. We don't know which one though as he destroyed it along with many others. All part of his artwork, he claimed. He arrives on a world and becomes intertwined with the very fabric of its reality, molding himself to it. Then, he begins to remake it in any way he wants it. He…sculpts out new formations, tearing everything apart and replacing it with whatever suits his fancy. He starts small but slowly goes bigger and bigger until the whole world becomes his canvas. Then he destroys it, seeing it as the final stroke on his masterpiece, before finding another world and starting again."
Swarm stared at him, his mouth agape and his eyes wide with horror.
"He emerged decades ago. Just a small being wandering around with some minor offenses here and there. The Cloak Guard took him on a few times and beat him each one. But he got stronger with each battle. When the war broke out, he finally made his true power known. He wasn't on any one side, just moving from battlefield to battlefield, mowing down whoever he came across. He did help hold off Quoron for a bit, so that was a point in his favor, but it quickly became apparent that if something wasn't done, he would kill us all. So we engaged a ceasefire and worked together with the Cloak Guard and other parties and went into battle, not having to worry about any of us launching any surprise attacks. It lasted for days but we were finally victorious, the Cloak Guard striking the final blow and sending him off into the cosmos. Until now. It seems that whatever brought this new Cloak Guard back also brought him along. And if we don't stop him soon, we're all done for." He then grabbed hold of Swarm's shoulder. "That's where you come in."
"Huh…what?"
"The other thing about Sculptor is that he is a non-corporeal being. He needs a host body in order to interact with this reality. And given that his attacks so far have been small, that means he isn't at full power yet which is our chance. Normally I would send one of my men to take him out, but I thought this might be your perfect opportunity."
"It…is?"
"Yes. Given your monumental screw-ups, I thought you might like to know that if you pull this off, all of that will be forgiven and you'll go free."
"I…will?"
"Yes. But just one more thing. There is a time limit. Given Sculptor's current power levels and his imposing threat, we're preparing to detonate a Gravortex Warhead in the vicinity to take him out. Since I'd rather not lose so many lives, and a piece of my territory, I would prefer if you take care of it. So, are you up for it?"
"I…uh…"
"Perfect. Just remember, you must kill the host body. If you manage that, I can take care of the rest. Once Sculptor is non-corporeal again, I'll be able to trap him and ensure he never goes free again. So, here is the data we have on him so far." Darian handed the man an I-Pad. "I'd say good luck, but I don't really care about you personally. So, just do the job, ok?"
"Uh…"
"Wonderful. Richter, show him out."
His general let out another deep sigh before dragging the still stuttering Swarm out the door, the microbots instantly trailing behind.
"Are you it's a good idea to send him?" Master Dark asked.
"No," Darian replied. "But we don't have any good options. He's my insurance policy. According to my source, there is only one group that can defeat Sculptor."
"And you're sure of this?" Darian demanded, wanting very much to throttle the man.
"I am," Oculus replied. "I wish that I weren't, but there is no other way. The Cloak Guard trapped Sculptor before so he is weak to their powers. They alone can stop him."
"But these ones are weak children with no real experience, not seasoned warriors!"
"I am aware. Still, there is the advantage. Sculptor will underestimate them unlike with you or your men. He will deem them no real threat which they can use. Other than that, I cannot say how they will win. Just that no one else can. Trust them."
Trust? He snorted. Trust did not come easily. He barely trusted half the people in this room, even. And now, against a being like Sculptor, he had to trust in these teenagers?
They had beaten Swarm, but that man was an idiot. He had underestimated them though, so Darian could see the advantage in that. If he went on the attack or any of his men, Sculptor would go all out and the battle would likely devastate the entire landscape, which would draw the attention of the other Emperors and the SRC, attention he didn't need.
There was another reason why the Cloak Guard could win, but Oculus hadn't unveiled it, something which infuriated Darian to no end. Still, he had his contingency plans in place. Now, all he could do was wait.
"Get the warhead ready," he told Master Dark, walking away. "And prepare the evacuations."
If these Cloak Guard actually pulled this off…he chuckled at the thought. Their reputations would go through the roof. It would open up a world of opportunities alongside dangers.
Oculus, you had better be right about this or else I'll make your death excruciating.