Using this for more Chapters

er as he looked on at the carnage before him. It had started out as a pleasant walk to look on at the Grand Canal for what had to be the quintillionth time since he had been born, and yet he could never get tired of it‘s beauty. On the good days, his father would tell him of how he met his mother here. On bad days, he’d snarl the whole time. Today, for him, was a melancholy day.

They had just gotten off from the street and looked on at the railing when he saw the two people step out from the hover car. Jackson had noticed before that it was of French design, but didn’t think much of it at the time. As they stood in front of the crowd and began to speak, however, the melancholy day for his dear father had transformed into a horrific one as he frowned deeply.

“Those are the fugitives,” Jackson had heard his father saying to a fellow nobleman beside them. Jackson had imagined them to be much worse for fugitives. He had expected them to be raggedy and dirty, with torn clothing and a disfigured face. Instead, they both looked like normal people. One was a man with shaggy blonde hair and sea green eyes, who seemed a bit too muscular for his own shirt. The other was a beautiful Spanish woman with violet eyes and dark brown hair. She definitely had a great figure. The both of them didn’t look like they fit such a word, fugitives.

As the man continued to speak, Jackson could tell the commoners were becoming quite uneasy. No matter what social class and how protected and safe a person was, they still had a mob mentality at heart, especially the ones that didn’t know the situation. As he continued to weave his words in a way that inflicted fear and doubt, he could practically feel the people looking at the nobles and his father.

His father and another noble spoke up, speaking against the two, saying that the story was bogus. Truthfully, they only wanted to save their own asses. They didn’t care about the people, they simply cared for the money in their pockets. It seemed that finally, they were getting what was coming to them as the crowd combusted into a sudden frenzy. Nobles were being tackled and knocked unconscious, thrown into the water below, and being mauled by the panicked individuals.

Jackson, however, was safe from harm. This was the one point where wearing a hoody and skinny jeans benefited him, he looked like he was just an average guy. Nothing more, nothing less. As Jackson looked to his left to see his father being one of the nobles tackled to the ground, he could also see from the corner of his eye the car that the duo had gotten out of was driving away, using the chaos to their advantage. He didn’t very much like the idea of leaving his father to fend for himself. After all, they were still blood and he technically did love him. Still, the abuse he had taken over the course of his lifetime was enough for Jackson to turn the other cheek. He could hear the police sirens driving toward the car, and knew that he had to catch up to them if he wanted to help.

“I’m sorry, father,” Jackson whispered as he turned on his heels and ran into the streets in search of a car to drive.

****

Cyrus


“Looks like they got on us faster than I thought they would,” Cyrus mused, quickly looking at the driver’s side mirror at the growing number of police cars chasing them down the streets. He was forced to hop into the driver’s side due to how quickly everything went to shit. He had to be doing at least eighty.

“I know, there has got to be a way to lose them,” She replied over the blaring noise of police sirens and megaphones telling them to stop.

Cyrus didn’t know exactly how he was going to accomplish that. Going as fast as they were, it was difficult for him to make the sharp turns without killing the both of them in the process. He was just lucky enough that Italian people were smart enough to drive off the road when there’s a chase and jump off the sidewalk when Cyrus was accidentally driving on it.

The cars were getting closer and growing with every passing second. Cyrus was now starting to swerve around police cars surprising them from alleyways in an attempt to push them off-road. As a few became a dozen, and a dozen became two, things were starting to turn grim.

Until Cyrus made one more sharp turn and saw what was at the end.

He floored it now, bringing the vehicle to speeds it probably wasn’t supposed to achieve. Eighty turned to ninety, and ninety was soon one hundred as Cyrus was driving to the very end of the street, to the structure at the other side.

Emily was perplexed at first, looking to him and then back at the road, now more closely. Suddenly, her eyes went wide. “Cyrus, you’re not going to…”

She didn’t have to finish the sentence, because Cyrus knew that she knew how he was. He would most certainly do something this asinine and dare-devilish. Going down the street at maximum speed and driving off a ramp into the wooded area behind it wasn’t a stupid idea to Cyrus: it was brilliant.

“Cyrus, don’t you do it.”

He blocked her out, picking up momentum as the policemen continued their attempt to get closer. Some of them couldn’t take the speed and ended up sliding off until they crashed into another car, effectively starting a complete car wreck. Even with the speed he was going at, there were still a few close behind him now, wondering what in the hell he was thinking of doing.

“Cyrus, don’t fucking do it.”

He ignored her once again, and this time she wouldn’t be able to tell him not to do it again. He could feel adrenaline pump through him as the wheels hit the wood of the ramp and they went soaring forward into the wooded area below. Emily didn’t seem frightened, only frustrated at his ignorance and stupidity. The vehicle stayed in the air for a moment, before they began to fall down like an anvil.

Maybe I didn’t think this through.

Cyrus didn’t panic. He opened the front door, grabbing Emily’s arm and dragging her out from the vehicle with ease, seeing as the both of them were unbuckled this whole ride. As the car picked up speed before hitting the ground, the duo seemed to sit still in the air before they began their tumble as well.

Emily, preferring not to be impaled by tree branches or have all of their bones crush from the impact, used her earth bending prowess to force more earthen shards from the ground. These shards, however, weaved and knotted together until it became a soft mat near the bottom of the forest floor. Making the earth as soft as a pillow, the both of them landed safely on the large surface, Cyrus bouncing up and down a few times before stabilizing. The both of them had a couple of nicks and bruises on their arms and face, but other than that, they were physically unblemished.

Emily put the earth back where it was supposed to be unexpectedly, and Cyrus fell on his back on the ground with a groan. As Emily landed on her feet, she offered a hand to the grinning buffoon. He clasped it.

“Never pull that shit again,” Emily scorned.

“Oh, come on,” Cyrus replied, “That was fun though.”

Emily went to make a come back, before stopping short and staring at something behind him. Her face grew pale, and her mouth dropped open. Cyrus, puzzled, looked over his shoulder and realized just what she was staring at.

Out from the trees, those genetic beasts were emerging into view, one by one, until a dozen appeared. Each and every one of them looked hungry, and furious. [/SPOILER]

ff-arming Emily until she was standing behind him in battle formation. He didn’t want her to get hurt, she wasn‘t meant for hand to hand battle. There were a dozen of them, all standing as tall as the trees that were surrounding the group, and all were looking toward the duo like a starving pack of lions. They were smiling, giggling at the fact that their master would give them appreciation once they were done tearing Emily and Cyrus apart.

Cyrus got into his fighting stance, balling up his fists and snarling at the monstrosities in an attempt to intimidate them. These were mindless berserkers now, they may not know that Cyrus could never take all of them at once in a lifetime. They may think that Cyrus could be stronger if he made it seem that way.

Seeming to experiment, one of them charged toward Cyrus with blinding speed, and Cyrus managed to slide to the left just in time before jumping high in the air and delivering a mean uppercut to the jaw that caused the beast to stagger back in shock and pain. He grasped onto the beast’s shoulder, hoisting himself up before delivering a swift kick to the bridge of the beast’s nose. It fell back to the group, looking around at its brethren for answers. Cyrus landed on his feet with that same exact fighting stance, staring the pack down as a spark of excitement rushed through him, the adrenaline starting to flow. This was the first time he’s been able to actually fight someone that he could ever remember.

The beast pressed it’s fingers against its nose lightly, and once it drew back and saw the black blood, its lips curved into a deep frown, replacing the shocked expression that was plastered on its face as it had the exact opposite effect that Cyrus intended. The dozen of them snarled at him, trudging their feet against the ground as the whole group charged him simultaneously.

Cyrus’ pride was too big for him to back down from the fight, even knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to take the lot of them. Cyrus hoped that Emily would wait until he truly needed help before attacking, because he wanted to be able to protect her, rather than her protect him. As the dozen beasts lunged at him, Cyrus again jumped vertically in the air, bashing a hard fist against one’s nose before spinning around and kicking another at the side of it’s head. He grasped his hands tightly on two individual monsters at their heads, curling his fingers, then pushed their faces to the ground as he landed on his feet with the skill and grace of a feline. They, however, caused the earth to shake. As he looked down at the two eating dirt, a sword appeared in his grasp, his beloved Trinity. It radiated a bright and warm aura that was made to destroy horrific monsters at the point of no return, or horrible people at birth.

With one swift movement, he swung his sword from left to right, and the two beasts’ heads rolled off from their body. Two down, ten more to go. he said to himself, mildly celebrating without realizing one was coming up behind him.

However, before it could grab Cyrus and tear him to shreds, the blunt edge of earth collided with it’s chest, sending it flying backward painfully through a levy of trees, causing the young pines to fall down atop the monstrosity, crushing all of it’s bones before it roared with agony in death.

Cyrus looked over his shoulder, “I could have had that,” He said, mildly frustrated. He knew he would have been a dead man without her help, and that just made him more frustrated.

“You weren’t even paying attention. I was saving your ass,” She replied, the battering ram of hard dirt now looking like a freshly made ramp as it cut in front of her.

Cyrus turned back around to the nine other beasts, battered by the physical abuse they had been taking. They seemed like they were getting their asses handed to them. Yet, their crimson red eyes still exuded a growing psychotic hunger to end two humans’ lives. They weren’t going to back down until their hearts stopped beating and pumping that horrible looking bloody. Now paying more attention to proving he was competent in the face of these beasts rather than taking it cautiously, Cyrus got a running start before making a sharp turn to the earth still protruding from the ground. He ran up the glorified ramp and jumped off at the right time, toward the clustered remainder of the beasts that seemed to be discussing their next move.

They craned their heads to the side at the battle cry they heard, processing what was coming at them before Cyrus dropped down on one of their craniums. He pushed off from that beast’s head with enough force to make it stumble forward, jumping to the other monster with his sword grasped tightly in hand. He slung his arm back and flung it forward, shoving the blade deep into the beast’s right eye, forcing it through it’s head and sinking the blade all the way to the hilt of the sword. The tip of the blade could be seen at the back of the monster‘s head. Cyrus hung in the air on one hand from the hilt of his sword for one moment, letting the monster stumble and fall before he pulled the sword out. He swung it on a half arc, cutting through the jugular of another beast like butter. He could feel the black blood spurting onto his clothes as he landed on his feet once again.

Seven.

They were starting to get smarter, adapting to the situation. Realizing that by themselves they couldn’t kill Cyrus due to his speed and strength, they started to surround him. Emily promptly caused the earth in front of her to become soft enough for it to wrap around the torso of one of the beasts, pulling it back harshly before impaling it with another, more jagged shard of earth.

In response, Cyrus lunged forward this time, wrapping his arms around the torso of another genetic mutation before using his god-like strength to push it backward, forcing it through tree after tree, until it’s back was bleeding profusely and consciousness was slipping away from it. Cyrus pushed off from the beast as it fell to the ground, slowly bleeding to death. The remaining five had followed him through the trail, and Cyrus responded by jumping into an autumn tree. He climbed up the branches until he reached the very top, and launched himself onto the front-most beast’s head. He jumped onto each one’s head like a stone in a river, before getting to the last one. He lunged the sword into the top of the monster’s head, before pulling it down to the ground on it’s back.

In a forward roll, Cyrus forced his beloved Trinity out from it’s prison of muscle and bone. His sword was now covered in dark black blood and so was he, but there was now only four left.

But suddenly, a searing pain shot through him, crippling him.

The beasts had continued adapting to the battle at hand at quick pace, and now knew that the best way to get Cyrus was when his back was turned. They had waited, sacrificing their last monster so Cyrus could celebrate before one came close and slashed at his back. The same one grasped his body and threw him forward, into another tree. A crack of bone was all he heard as he hit the back of his head against the hard wood. A groan came from Cyrus’ mouth. He was now in a pain he had not felt before, for he had never been hit with such force. His pride had gotten the best of him. He thought that he could take them on all by himself, and it was because of that arrogance that he was in this position. These genetic…ungodly monsters, may be dumb-minded, but yet they became tactical and adaptable in times like this. A perfect combination of mindless obeying of a master, and being able to survive in battle.

He would have to remember this, to make the punch to Sirius’ face much harder.

As his vision blurred, he could hear the battle cry of Emily, his companion and friend. The one he had told to stay back while he handled the beasts. The one he was supposed to be protecting, was now protecting him. He could see her running to stand in front of him, a person that wasn’t made for fighting now taking care of the remaining beasts in dominant fashion. He never thought that she could handle the stresses of constant battle, but he had great

noise, with the exception of the loud hum of the jet engines.
Cyrus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It felt like as though knives were jabbing into his chest, over and over again as his heart turned into a mess of crimson blood. Everything he thought he knew ended up being a complete and utter lie. His companion, the one person he thought he could trust above all else, had lied to him since the beginning of their relationship.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for the longest time…,” Emily said solemnly, placing a hand on his shoulder, as if she was pleading to him to understand, “I just…never found the right time. I never found the courage to do it.”

Cyrus was silent, his green eyes staring out at the night sky before him in the pilot’s seat. The clouds zoomed past the jet as the autopilot continued its trajectory to the eventual destination of Warwick, Poland. He could not speak. He wasn’t able to find any words to describe how he felt. Like someone hit his gut with a battering ram, and stomped on his chest. He was frozen in place, now nothing but a brick wall for her to speak to.

“I…was a close friend to your family,” She began explaining herself, “For a long time. Ten years or so, in fact. They knew my mother and father quite well before they were killed, so it was only natural for them to check up on me often while I was cruising through the foster care system.”
“They couldn’t do much, though. I mean, I was in France and they were in Poland. We had to keep our calls discreet and quick, or else we would be figured out,” She said. It made sense. Even cross-country calls were prohibited in Sirius’ empire, so a lower class family in poverty wouldn’t even think about going from one country to the other.

“They comforted me when I was sad, and told me stories through the phone and made me feel like I was human.”

Another dead silence, this time much longer in duration. It suffocated them, yet at the same time was a blissful break from the struggle to explain herself.

“After I had grown up,” She continued carefully, “I got a call from them from my home. They said that…their son had gone missing a few days before. They had no idea why or how it had happened. It was like he…disappeared.”

She let out a heavy sigh and now averted his eyes from Cyrus’ pained expression. She jerked her head to the opposite side, looking out the passenger side window of the jet as she tried to find the words that would at least partially explain to him what had happened. “They told me…That they would do everything they could to bring him back, but they wouldn’t take him back to their home. They’d send him far away from Poland, to a place like…France.”

There was still silence from Cyrus. He just could not process the fact that his best friend had known about his family since the beginning. He felt pain, sadness, and anger, all boiling inside of him at the same time.

Yet, she continued on. “I found you on my front lawn a day or so later. I tried to call your parents from Poland, but they never picked up, and they never called me back. I never knew what had happened to you, or who the man behind the kidnapping was. I just knew that I had to try and protect you from whatever, or whoever had tried to take you before.”

She looked down at the ground in shame. “I should have told you…But, I didn’t want to get your hopes up if they ended up dead. I don’t know what happened to them. Plus…I…didn’t want you to leave me, Cyrus. Your parents were the only beings that made me feel like I was human again…and when they left…you were there still. You were, and still are, all I have. I know it’s selfish, and cruel, and…I’m so sorry, Cyrus.”

She kept looking down at the ground of the jet, as if she was expecting for Cyrus to go berserk and scream at her, call her a pathetic liar and a horrible person. Yet, Cyrus wasn’t that type of person. He didn’t have a bad bone in his body. He didn’t scream, nor did he sound angry. He was as calm as possible, which was probably the worst thing someone could be when faced with such a situation. He continued to stare forward at the moving night sky.

“What was my last name?”

“What?” she glanced up from the ground and looked at him, perplexed.

He turned to her, his eyes transfixed on her, his body trembling. “You said…you knew my family.”

She nodded.

“Then what’s…My last…Name,” It was as if it was the most important thing in his life. He could no longer live without knowing it.

Through all of the lies and deception, and even the knowledge that he may still have had a family in Poland, the one thing he cared about was his last name. For the years he had been in Emily’s home that was the one thing he always tried to remember, again and again through his head like a broken record. If he knew his last name, it would be easier to track down his family. Plus, it gave him more closure to know his full name.

Emily was silent for a moment, and she seemed surprised more than anything. Understandable, since most people would ask bigger questions. What were they like? Did they have more children? However, he would ask those later. When he found them, which wouldn’t be very long.

“Harper,” Emily replied slowly, quietly, “Your last name is Harper.”

For some reason, Cyrus felt like a huge weight was taken off his shoulders all at once as he let out a sigh of relief. He finally knew his full name. Cyrus Harper.

Even with that feeling of closure, he still didn’t know how he could forgive Emily, and how long it would take him to do so. And yet, in a world where they went from country to country in a matter of days, fought for their lives and freedom, and saw gruesome things, time flew at a much faster pace than a clock would ever say.

“We go to Poland,” Cyrus said in a calm but serious tone, “We find my family. Then, we continue the mission.” [/SPOILER]

night soon gave way to a clouded sunrise of a gray dawn. Slowly, light flooded the world once again as they crossed into the capital of Poland. It had been a few hours since Emily or Cyrus spoke a single word, and they were so lost in their own daydreams that Cyrus had almost flown right past the capital. The tension in Cyrus’ body grew with each passing moment. Chills ran down his spine as he wondered what would happen when he finally got the chance to meet his family.

Turning off the auto-pilot to manually land the jet, Cyrus attempted to place it on the field as stealthily as he possibly could. He didn’t feel like attracting any unwanted attention, specifically since Sirius had ordered ’forces’ to take the group down. It wasn’t very difficult with how small and noiseless the jet was, however. Sirius made sure that he could come into areas by surprise.

He almost had forgotten to bring the wheels out, practically ignoring Emily as she reminded him to do so. Moments later, the wheels made a large splash as rolled on the ground. It didn’t feel like ground, though. It sounded like he was landing on a river, something he didn’t envision happening when he saw what seemed like a light green field of grass.

Cyrus looked up at the sky. Dreary and cloudy, just like almost every single other spot in this god damn world. The only place that was sunny was Italy. Figures.

There were no trees at all, and he heard the rhythmic beat of rain on the hull of the airplane. He looked to his right, and noticed a steep hill that eventually lead to civilization at the very top. Why would they go up that far?

Perplexed, Cyrus waited until the plane landed safely to glance out from the cockpit and to the ground. He was startled to find that there had to be at least a foot of stagnate clear water on the ground, completely drowning out any possible plant life. He also noticed that it was pouring outside, disrupting the still water as it made constant, miniscule splashes.

To him, this development was odd. He had never seen so much water in a place that wasn’t a river, even with the occasional floods in France. However, he heard a sudden clunking noise, followed by stomping as Jackson burst from the back and into the cockpit. He sounded like he was having trouble breathing.

“I wasn’t able to tell you guys,” He said through gasping attempts at breaths, “Poland is nicknamed the ‘Flood Country’. After Sirius’ conquest, Poland went through an atr…Atr….“

He struggled with the word all of a sudden. How could he not remember a word that was so simple to him yesterday. “A…Horrible, climate change. It left the country in shambles, and now rain is a year long occurrence. Snow or even a sunny day can happen maybe once a year. Fields are always drowned in water, and the cities are like high hilltops.”

Cyrus didn’t like the sound of that. He always enjoyed the rain and showers, but when it came to water on the ground he was like a cat. He hated it. He turned to Jackson to respond to him, but winced as he saw his body. It had only been half of a day since he had been injected, and Jackson was already showing all of the effects. His muscles were now struggling to get through his clothes, and Cyrus could tell that Jackson was now his height or more. His face was pale, blue veins running all through him as sweat ran down from his forehead. He was trying his best to act as if nothing was wrong with him, but it was evident in just the way he looked and talked.

He glanced toward Emily, who gave her a look of concern. Neither of them thought it would progress so quickly. “Jackson, are you feeling alright?” Cyrus asked.

Jackson, however, still attempted to keep the confidence of the group up. He forced a faint smile on his dry lips. “Me? Please, I‘m fine. Just a little bit of a cold, probably.”

That was when it hit Cyrus. Jackson had no idea what was wrong with him. He didn‘t know he was injected with that substance. He thought it was a sickness, something wrong with his body that happened naturally. He had to tell him soon. He deserved to know

“Well, What are we all waiting for?,” He said in a slurred, almost tired voice, “We have to get to the capital, right?”

****

Jackson

He could no longer think straight. His body was going through random spasms, and he could practically feel his muscles bulging and his body growing in size. It was quite the unpleasant feeling, to say the least, knowing that he was outgrowing all of his clothes. His head ached, and he went from going into a sudden hot flash to feeling like he was surrounded by a gar….garga….fuck it, giant, block of ice. The sequence from sweating to chilling was horrible, and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

Yet, that wasn’t even the worst of it. The pains in his body he could deal with. Same thing with the hot and cold changes. He could even handle the fact that he was slowly seeing all of the color drain from his skin and be replaced by dark blue veins. The worst thing was those god damn voices.

When he heard the voices the first, second and even the third time, he thought it was the stress and anxiety getting to him a little bit. He thought he was simply hallucinating. Then, as it continued to progress, he realized that there was something wrong. No matter where he went, no matter what he did, he could hear them, saying different, horrific things than the last.

You’re nothing without us.

We are making you stronger.

You’re just a weakling.

Succumb to our power!

No matter what he did, he couldn’t get them out of his head. Even as he spoke to Cyrus and Emily and put on that same, plastic smile he used to wear every single time he was around his father, he could hear the whispers. He didn’t know who they were, and what they wanted from him. All he knew was that it was aff…affec….making him worse and worse with each passing moment.

He was starting to fear his own sanity at this point. As the hours pass by, he continues to get worse. Sure, it was great that he kept growing taller and getting stronger physically. He had always dreamed of being that way, with all of the insecurities he had about himself. He loved being able to have that physical meat on his bones, along with his int…intelli…fuck, what’s the word? Smarts, he’ll say smarts. Yet, he didn’t want everything that went along with it. He didn’t want the paleness, the voices in his head, the lousy feeling.

He could feel his sanity chipping away when each moment ticks by. Not only was he in fear of that, he was beginning to wonder what he’d do if it continued to go on like this. What if he ended up hurting himself? What if he ended up doing something he would regret later?

As they prepared to exit the plane and into the river that was the field, the worst poss….possi…

Motherfucker!, what’s happening to me?! Why can’t I say these words?!

He tried to calm down from his anger, and when he did he completely forgot about what he was thinking about before. He didn’t even consider what he had thought about before. He moved to follow Cyrus and Emily, when the both of them stopped him before he could leave the plane.

“Jackson,” Cyrus said calmly, “Sit down a minute. We have to talk.”. [/SPOILER]

rom her deep slumber in a cold sweat, breathing heavily, as if she was gasping for air. She felt the hard surface of her mattress, and jerked her head around wildly. It took her thirty seconds to realize that her night terror was not a reality, and she was in fact back in her shitty one room apartment complex.

Slowly, she sat up and grasped her head with a groan. It always ached when she had those types of night terrors. She could remember every bit of her nightmare, and for the most part, it was just like any other night. She could see clearly into her past, each and every night. She saw herself as a toddler with a vast intelligence that she shouldn‘t have had.

“Bad people are going to come,” Her mother had told her, “And we need you to hide from them. You have to stay alive to save the world one day.“

Her mother and father both kissed her, and the pain in their expressions told her everything. She wouldn’t see them alive again. She was forced to hide under a hollow floorboard, her skinny body able to fit into it rather well compared to the rest of her family. She was unfortunately put in a position where she could only watch in horror as men in suits with crimson red eyes broke the door down. Her mother, human, and her father, a tiger, pounced on the beasts called the Court of Nightshade, but were outnumbered and outclassed. No matter how much they could have prepared for what was to come, they were still smacked with the butt of the Courts’ rifles and forced to their knees.

They searched the rest of the home, knocking over vases and breaking doors off from their hinges. They ransacked everything, and eventually found her older brother, nine years old, hunched over and hiding in the corner of a closet. They pulled him out forcefully, and as his childish mind couldn’t process what was going on, they forced him on his knees as well. He was crying hysterically, while her family held back the tears as well. Then, as Jane turned the other way, she could hear the deafening, chilling noise of gunpowder exploding as they shot hot bullets into the back of her family’s heads. They all fell limp, crumpling to the flo

closer, there was no way they could be stealthy about their entrance. The engine wasn’t in the best shape, making a loud clanging noise, and it was right in the middle of the road. By the time they could see the armed border fully, guns were already raised and ready to shoot at them. She had instructed Cyrus to floor it, and he was prepared to crash into them at top speeds.

“Everybody hang on!,” He exclaimed, turning to the three of them.

Emily realized that Jackson was so tall, his head was hanging from the top. “Jackson, you have to duck or you’re gonna get shot.”

He obliged, but all the while he was still mumbling to himself. “I am not afraid! Don’t yell at me! No, I just don’t want to die!!”

Jane followed orders, hanging onto anything she could. She realized that the archer’s mask was off, revealing herself as some sort of tigress human hybrid. It was interesting to see someone of such a breed, since Sirius had supposedly exterminated them all. It was obvious that some would have lived, but for one of them to be of their group was a pretty big smack to the face of a dictator who supposedly had all of the control.

As Cyrus crashed into one of the assault vehicles, the momentum their vehicle had was enough to push the other forward and into the wall, crushing a couple of Court members outright. Bullets went flying shortly after, aimed toward the hull of the vehicle, and it became an all out war after that. The berserkers were running toward them at blurs, although it seemed like Jane got the memo about how things worked here. Still adorning her purple robes, She peeked her head out from the top and created more of those red explosive arrows. Only this time, she caused them to plunge into the mutated beasts’ chests, an entire row within a couple of seconds.

Then, seemingly all at once, explosions rocked the bodies of the beasts, the shockwave killing a few officers as well as red dust and chunks of their pale bodies settled onto the ground, like it was meant to be there the entire time. Blood splattered on the vehicles and the people. At the same time, Emily helped as much as she possibly could, which, in her case, was a whole lot. Earthbending was like any other exercise. Once you practice again and again, you grow to be able to do it more and more often as you go along.

Now, the earth manipulating girl who was simply a stay-at home person a few days ago was now impaling assault vehicles with ease, the jagged shards taking out various officers and destroying the vehicles as well. She hit the other human court members with battering ram type objects, sending them flying backward to wherever.

“Leave one vehicle intact!,” Cyrus yelled to her, as he rolled out from the car and began to inflict his usual heavy damage with his fists and overall man power, punching the lights out of people with ease.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere Jackson leaped from the vehicle and out into the open, landing and creating a large crater where his feet crashed against the ground. He saw an officer, making an attempt to call in reinforcements because of the absolute massacre that was occurring, and Jackson responded by violently throwing the male into a truck with enough force to break his neck. More came around Jackson, shooting at him, but he simply threw them around like rag dolls, dealing with them easily.

It was when he saw one of his brethren that it got particularly interesting. They both charged at one another, brute going against brute, and they matched each other punch for punch until Emily brought a jagged shard of earth through the other’s heart.

Cyrus jumped onto one of the many vehicles on the horizon. It had seemed that some forces had gone to the one lone vehicle that had a machine gun on top of it. Of course, Cyrus had to deal with it before it did any true damage. He landed on it, breaking it completely under his pure strength. He reached through the broken window, grabbed the driver, and threw him into a barbed wire fence as he jumped to the concrete. He knew that reinforcements were to be called soon.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, their vehicle combusted, along with the vehicle with the machine gun attached. Shrapnel came from everywhere, all toward Cyrus, but was protected by walls of earth that suddenly came around him in a brief protection. The shrapnel embedded themselves deep within the solid earth, before the foundations crumbled. Cyrus jerked his head toward Emily, who had gotten out from the car just in time, and smiled a thank you her way.

The battle was never really a battle to start. It was an all out massacre on all fronts, with Emily and the other three on the winning side of it. The officers and even the berserkers were not ready for the horrors that these battle-hardened people were handedly giving to them. With the four of them combined, they obliterated the entire patrol. The explosions that took out the berserkers destroyed a good chunk of the men, while Jackson took out another chunk. Emily and Cyrus eliminated the rest. It was a tactical destruction that nobody could have predicted.

Once the smoke cleared and bodies, as well as body parts, were left on the ground, Emily said a silent prayer for the lot of them. Even if they were part of the Court, she would have loved to have not murdered them. They were still human…somewhere.

“Oh hey,” Cyrus said nonchalantly, “You guys actually left a car.”

As Emily turned her head, she realized that there actually was a vehicle, virtually untouched and with the keys already in and running. They seemed to have that kind of luck with vehicles. The group sprinted over as fast as they could, and Emily hopped into the back with Jackson this time.

“Jane, you drive,” Cyrus instructed, “I’d rather not this time.”

Jane shrugged her shoulders and hopped into the drivers seat, while Cyrus stayed at the passenger side. Jane started up the car and rammed through the unlocked metal, large doors that separated Poland from Russia. [/SPOILER]

ad given her the reins and told her to drive. She didn’t have a vehicle, and she never drove anywhere for the majority of her short lifespan. For all he knew, she could have killed the lot of them by accidentally veering the car into a wall.

But, thankfully, she somehow knew the ins and outs of this complicated truck that hovered slightly above the hard earth that was gradually growing more and more barren as time passed away. For a moment, everything seemed calm. Everyone was trembling with adrenaline and absolutely terrified, but there still retained an aura of silence.

In this silence, she realized that she had not yet put her golden mask on her face. It was in the back of that other truck, the one that had exploded in a shower of flames. She was stunned at this revelation, that the entire group had seen her true tigress form. Yet, none of them judged her, or insulted her, or made fun of her appearance like the other children did before her parents were slaughtered. The things they said to her….’Half Breed’, ‘Monster’, ‘A Mistake’, ‘The Epitemy of Sin’. The list went on and on, and it was because of that name calling, combined with Sirius’ genocide, that it had been almost twenty years since she showed anybody her true face. She still had no idea how someone like Cyrus, a man he had just met, managed to get Jane to show her face. Maybe it was that friendly smile, or that welcoming demeanor. Whatever it was, it made her feel a flutter in her heart that nobody bothered to make fun of her anymore.

Then, out of nowhere, Jane was attacked by more of her vicious premonitions. Images flashed through her head at super sonic speeds, barely enough time for her to register them. She saw a high security prison placed on a large field, surrounded by barbed wire. She saw the inside of the prison, specifically inside of a cell that withheld two people, the Harpers, with poker faces. Zooming out from the cell, Jane could see an image of the prison guards preparing the electric chair in the distance, testing it out. The last image she saw, however, was arguably the most chilling of them all. A tall, lithe figure with dark emerald robes on his body, veiling his face and veiling his true intentions.

She almost hit the brakes after she was thrust out from that levy of ominous images, her head aching wildly, as if someone was smashing her temple with a sledgehammer. The car swerved slightly, and she had to force herself to bring it back on the road. Cyrus noticed the pain in her expression.

“What happened?,” He asked cautiously.

She breathed heavily, swallowing as she attempted to calm herself down. “I saw them…,” She replied, “Your parents, and I know where they are. We’re running out of time.”

She knew that the execution was coming, but Jane had no idea that it was coming that quickly. Sirius must have gotten word of Cyrus’ approach. She wanted to slam her head against the dashboard and be done with this horrific day, as the mid afternoon sun bore down on her fur.

She sighed heavily, planting her foot on the accelerate and going as fast as the truck could take them to Neo-St. Petersburg.

****

Logan

He already knew they were coming.

Border patrol had been obliterated, massacred at the hands of the fugitives. They threw the entire fleet around like rag dolls, killing them with absolute ease. Reinforcements arrived too late, and they were only there specifically for the body cleanup that followed the blood spattered mess they created. He was also told that it wasn’t long after the swift defeat of border patrol, that a certain police vehicle went through the open gates uninvited. Upon closer inspection of the driver, it turned out to be none other than Nikolai Alec himself.

“Coming to join the party,” Logan muttered when he heard of the news. Nikolai really wanted his paycheck, which means Sirius must have offered him a lot of money. For this much trouble, the mercenary wouldn’t have taken any small amount.

Based on the speed that both vehicles were going at, it could be assumed that it wouldn’t take very long for either party to get here, which meant that everything had to fall in place, and fast. He had gathered forces at the prison the group was moving toward, planning a complete ambush on all sides that would end this rebellion once and for all.

“Men,” Logan barked loudly to his highest assassin ranks as they all stood out in the field adjacent to the prison, “This is an important mission for Sirius’ empire. We have to finish this swiftly, and without resistance.”

The others nodded enthusiastically, obviously not given such a job that would effect their very lives forever ever in their lifetimes. Logan made a simple hand gesture, and all of them moved at a blur to the base of the trees, before climbing up like an animal and blending with the green leaves. Logan followed suit, and stood perched atop the tallest tree of them all, on a thin branch. This gave him a bird’s eye view of the entire prison.

The lot of them were in emerald green robes, used to camoflauge them from the enemy forces once they entered the prison. Logan wore the same, but the markings upon his robes indicated that he was the leader, the Grand Master of them all. The youngest leader of the assassins in history, they had told him.

He sucked his teeth in disgust. It wasn’t like he ever wanted to be an assassin in the first place.

The truth was, Logan didn’t support Sirius’ empire. He despised the things he did to his people, and wanted to change the world just as much as the fugitives did. He secretly supported them, wishing they would make it to Sirius Nightshade and best him in combat. He did not desire to become one of these filthy assassins. He was forced into this career without a choice, because of the things Sirius had threatened to do.

Before Logan had become an assassin, before he even interacted with the dictator, before he even considered being caught up in these horrid politics, he was simply a poor, seventeen year old boy who had no purpose in his life. He was living in a run-down home within the outskirts of Russia. He was working some dead beat job to support the house he lived in. He supported his three siblings, ages three, seven, and eleven, and loved them with all of his heart. His parents had practically ran out on the four of them, leaving to god knows what god knows where. Logan, at that point, did not even know if they were alive or dead.

That was Logan’s life from the age of fourteen to seventeen. Working at every job he could, making every penny possible, and just barely supporting his siblings with food, clothes and a roof on their heads while he voluntarily suffered of hunger and dirty clothes with holes in them. That just came with being their guardian when you were poor to start with. Even so, he loved them with all of his heart and soul, making sure to make them home cooked meals and give them every last shred of money he had left when he paid the bills. At that point, they were like his children.

The only talent Logan really had was his parkour. Whenever he had free time, and the siblings were at school, he would simply stand on top of roofs and jump from object to object, never falling and never tripping. He had the god given ability of coordination, and stealth too. Sometimes, although he hated it, he would have to steal bread from the markets for his brothers and sister. They never managed to catch him, because the moment he had that bread in his hand, he was gone with the wind.

It seemed that his abilities had caught the attention of the dictator. One day, when he returned home from a long day’s work late, he sprinted all the way home knowing that the children would be alone in a bad neighborhood. When he opened the door, however, he got much more than he bargained for.

“Hello, Logan,” Sirius Nightshade was sitting at the table with his three siblings, and they all looked absolutely petrified, “Would you mind if I…have a word with you?”

Logan, his eyes like saucers, walked with Sirius into a separate room as the children tried to regain their bearings. Sirius turned to him with that sadistic smile he would always see on television. The scar was much more grotesque in person as well.

“I have seen your abilities, Logan,” Sirius said, “I know you can be stealthy, and can run at speeds nobody has seen from a human in a long time.”

Logan’s dark green eyes narrowed, “What’s your point.”

Sirius chuckled, patting the man’s shoulder with enough quickness not to harm him, “Ohhh, straight forward I see. I like that.”

He stood silent, looking from side to side, feigning that it was some big secret. “I want you…to join my Assassin Order.”

Logan was taken aback by this offer, and he was opening his mouth to refuse adamantly before Sirius abruptly interrupted him once more. “Ah, ah, ah! Before…you make your decision…consider what I have to offer for you.”

“Should you accept my request,” Sirius continued, leaning closer to him, “Your dear siblings will live in lavish homes with loving families, and will be taken care of a hundred times better than in this run down foundationless pig-sty. You, would also have a place to live, albeit away from them.”

Logan didn’t like where this was going, but he liked the idea of his siblings having a better life. They didn’t deserve some of the shit they had to endure. However, Logan still didn’t want to join the enemy side, the people he hated. However, that would change.

“Should you say no, I will be very disappointed…,” He leaned closer, until their faces were mere inches apart, “And then…Wouldn’t it be tragic if some…accident were to happen and your siblings perished?”

Logan’s mouth hung open, and Sirius simply smiled wider. He didn’t think this horrendous man could stoop to such lows. He was forced to agree to join the cause, and that day was the last day he ever saw his siblings.

Now, he rests on this tree branch, being cooed by Sirius to eliminate these fugitives. If he managed to do so, he was promised a visit with

Whew, finally catched up. Reeaaaallyyyy nice story/plot/characters so far boomy, I think I noticed only 2 words misspelled (I'll let you know later, tho you can fix it with Word or something lol).

I really like where this is going and I love the way you describe the fight scenes, specially with some action music in the background it makes everything super epic, I also like character development, even tho is just a few paragraphs per chapter is still enough to progress a little here and there.

Keep this up bb, I'll be reading ♥♥♥.

The Final Three

or a moment, locking eyes with the mercenary who had just threatened yet another innocent’s life. Nikolai was both angry and shocked at the man’s appearance, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Sirius stop short. Just the reaction he wanted.

Another gust of wind picked up, blowing the emerald hood off of Logan’s head and revealing his head of shaggy black hair. Nikolai kept the aim of his one revolver at the assassin’s chest, but he was hesitant to shoot right away.

“Jane,” Logan said sharply, “Take Emily and get away from here. Try to keep her alive as long as possible.”

He heard the tigress stand upright and heave the girl on her shoulders. There wasn’t much of any place to go except for further into the forests. Jackson was obviously conflicted still, and using the little common sense he had left, gingerly walked away from the vicinity of battle. The bounty hunter and Sirius both stood in shock at the man who was supposedly an ally.

“My…Prodigy,” Sirius began, his eyes wide. They then narrowed and a deep frown formed on his face, “I raised you to be the man you are now! I gave you this power! Now you use it against us?! How could you be so selfish!”

Logan turned to Sirius, enraged, “You threatened me, hung my family in front of my face all this time. You made me commit horrible deeds, and it stops right now,” Once he heard Jane and Emily step into the forests, Logan made one swift motion, taking the assassins cloak off of his body. The shimmering emerald cloth fell beside him, and he wore a darkened tank top and pants underneath. His hidden blades were still attached to his wrists, waiting to be used in combat. His body was much more muscular than he had let on, but he still was small and quick. He jerked his head back toward Nikolai.

“I don’t want to be your puppet anymore. Cyrus was right, I do have good in me. I plan on using it to defeat your hired help.”

“Cyrus, don’t let up on Sirius until he’s dead. That’s the only way you’ll save Emily,” Logan shifted into a battle stance, lifting both arms defensively as his blades popped out, “I got the bounty hunter.”

“I’ve heard enough!” Nikolai exclaimed, and started to shoot at Logan’s head.

Logan shifted his body to the side, allowing the bullet to whiz past him. At the same time, he lunged closer to the mercenary, and as he shot at Logan a second time, he ducked, spinning around on his feet until he garnered enough momentum to lift his foot up. The gunslinger felt the foot crash against his jaw. As he stumbled backwards, Logan jumped up and made the attempt to slice at the man with his blade. However, he blocked the blade with his impenetrable revolver. With his free hand, he punched the assassin at the gut before pushing him off.

Logan fell on his back from the strength of Nikolai, and it seemed that the frozen tendons in his leg had thawed out completely, making him 100% once more. As Logan crumpled to the ground, the mercenary took off his trench coat, throwing it behind him as it hit the ground with a crash.

While he was chuckling to himself, Nikolai bent over to pick up the other half of his duel revolvers. Simultaneously, Logan suddenly felt a surge of clarity, bursting forward from the ground like a snake jumping at it’s prey. His blade grazed Nikolai’s cheek as he grasped onto the back of his head, and he kicked his legs, causing Nikolai’s balance to become unstable as he fell. Logan pushed his face down in the process, making the mercenary’s face collide hard with the dirt.

Logan jumped back, avoiding the harsh elbow that Nikolai threw back in rage. He threw his head back, standing upright as his now dirt grimed face had contorted into one of pure, unfiltered anger. Letting out a loud roar, Nikolai lunged forward again, in the process letting bullets rain on his opponent, although none were directly at him. All of them were aimed at spots around him, causing massive explosions all over him. Smoke billowed high into the sky as Nikolai continued to shoot off bullets. For a split second, he thought that he had murdered him. Not so tough, he thought smugly.

Then, much to his surprise, Logan jumped out from atop of the ball of smoke, screaming as he came down with his fist cocked. As he flung it, Nikolai slid to the side, and just as Logan got to him, the gunslinger smashed the assassin’s nose in with the butt of his revolver. His momentum left him, and he fell to the ground. Yet, unlike before, he let his hands break his fall, performing an improvised cartwheel that made his legs go up harshly to hit Nikolai’s jaw again. As he cursed, Logan finished the cartwheel and got back to his feet gracefully.

The smoke cleared, and where Logan was before was riddled with craters in every spot except one lone protruding piece of earth, the place he had jumped off of. Nikolai rubbed his jaw and wiped the blood that was trickling from his dried lips, his eyes staring hungrily at Logan as a lion would to a gazelle.

This time, Logan was the first to run forward at blurring speeds, throwing a hard right aimed at Nikolai’s face. He blocked it with the side of his revolver, before attempting to kick Logan at his side. However, Logan was fast enough to bring his forearm down, blocking the hard combat boot. It was then that Logan jumped up into the air, lifting his body into a horizontal angle while bringing his legs inward to his chest. He smirked and pushed them out against Nikolai’s torso. The strength and speed of the kick caused the gunslinger to slide back a foot or two, and when he looked forward again, Logan was gone.

Eyes widened, he looked around wildly in search of the man. Where the hell did he go? He wouldn’t have just run away!

“Looking for me?” Logan said smugly, and as Nikolai turned to the source, his eyes widened as the assassin jumped down from a high tree branch, blade extended as he came soaring from above at intense speeds that even the notorious gunslinger couldn’t comprehend.

Even so, Nikolai had enough sense to move slightly to the side, and that was what saved his life. He roared in pain as the blade dug deep into his shoulder, just missing his heart by mere centimeters. Logan frowned at the outcome of his well-thought out attack. Even with Nikolai dealing with a searing pain, he lifted his knee, colliding with Logan’s stomach as the breath was knocked out of him once again. He followed this with a hit to the temple with the butt of Nikolai’s gun. The pure force of the knee and the hit made Logan crumple to the ground, although he was held up by his blade still dug deep into the gunslinger’s shoulder.

“Nobody kills Nikolai Alec,” He snarled, grasping the assassin’s hand and pulling the blade out from his skin. Grabbing the blood soaked blade, he tore it from Logan’s wrist, bending down and doing the same with the other blade. He threw them both to the ground, crushing them under his feet. He lifted Logan by his hands and threw the man at the ground a few feet away, somehow regaining consciousness and landing on his hands and knees. Nikolai walked up to him, once again kicking him at the abdominal area and forcing him to the ground. “And I mean, NOBODY!”

Logan’s vision became blurred and dotted, and this combined with his disorientation made the assassin want to just fall to the ground and go to sleep. He lifted his head up shakily, staring down the man who now had his guns pointed to him. It seemed that no matter the dastardly trickery or the amount of speed, the bounty hunter still came out on top in terms of physical abilities.

His entire body ached, and yet he knew that if he failed now Cyrus would be facing a two on one battle that he may not be able to win. He had to do the impossible, and defeat the man who had never been beaten.

“No…,” Logan said, struggling to stand on his own two feet, “I’m going to kill Nikolai Alec. Even if it means losing my last breath.”

The mercenary laughed, “Oh, that’s rich! Look at you, you can barely stand. How do you expect to defeat me in the precarious state you’re in!”

In a last ditch attempt to eliminate Nikolai, he ran forward once again, and the mercenary, expecting a punch of a kick, simply lifted both revolvers to finish the assassin off. To put him out of his misery. Yet, Logan had different ideas. He grabbed both revolvers, placing his index fingers next to Nikolai’s on the trigger. He used the last of his energy to move both guns, forcing Nikolai’s hands to turn until both revolvers were aimed at his own torso. The man looked down, and then back at Logan with wide eyes.

Logan forced a half-smirk, staring into Nikolai‘s eyes as blood trickled down his face. “See you in hell.”

He pressed his fingers down on the trigger, and both bullets dug into Nikolai’s chest before exploding in an array of fireworks, and Logan was thrust back by the shockwave and into a nearby tree, his bones breaking from the impact. He slid to the ground, and his dotted vision caught the sight of two shimmering revolvers, red dust falling around them.

He smiled inwardly, and lost consciousness.

****

Cyrus

At first, Sirius had the advantage. Cyrus was too busy mourning for the losses of both Jane and Emily to truly strategize against the evil emperor. He continued to jump back, dodging and failing to do so against him. Sirius landed a harsh punch against Cyrus’ temple, before putting both hands together and crashing against Cyrus’ back, forcing him to his knees. Sirius kicked Cyrus in the chest with the heel of his combat boot, making him fall to the ground, writhing in pain. Not only was the gash on his arm bleeding profusely, but he was also suffering from concussions and various cuts and bruises.

Sirius looked down at him with a triumphant smirk, but before he could say anything of victory, he stopped short and stared. Logan had appeared out of nowhere in the aid of Emily and Jane, and it seemed that Sirius was just as surprised as he was.

The fact that Logan had saved the two women from obliteration for the time being made Cyrus feel much better about finishing his battle with Sirius, and the fact that he couldn’t help Emily until the Lord of The Night was completely annihilated in combat influenced him even further. It was at that point that the mourning Cyrus had been experiencing mutated into a furious rage, and his body suddenly felt rejuvenated.

As Sirius Nightshade stood, watching Logan in complete shock, he was now the vulnerable one. Cyrus suddenly jumped up, delivering a harsh uppercut with enough power to cause a shockwave between the two of them. The pain of the hit brought Sirius back to reality, and he responded by pouncing upon Cyrus with a hard right. To Sirius’ surprise, however, Cyrus caught the fist in his hand with great ease. The second fist was caught as well, however a harsh kick to Cyrus’ shoulder caused him to let go of one hand. Sirius attempted to hit Cyrus with that hand again, but this time it was blocked with the hero’s forearm. Grabbing both hands tightly out of nowhere, Cyrus thrust Sirius into the ground harshly multiple times until he eventually gave up, letting go and allowing the man to crumple.

“Imbecile…,” Sirius hissed, standing up with one hand grasping his side, the other holding that deadly obsidian sword once more. Growing impatient, the insane dictator swung the sword in an arc, but Cyrus ducked out of the way, his face expressionless as he stepped forward and sunk his fist deep into his lower abdomen. Sirius drew a broken breath, stumbling once again.

Cyrus stood there, watching Sirius regain his bearings before he flung another fist toward Cyrus’ face. Cyrus didn’t catch this one, only throwing his own punch that clashed with the other. Another shockwave of extreme power. Sirius drew back and swung his sword once again amidst screaming a guttural battle cry, and Cyrus managed to materialize Trinity in time, another clash of blades sparking between them.

As both parties looked across at one another, both were feeling ill effects from their long and tedious war. As craters, broken hills and shattered trees were spread around them, Cyrus noted that his shirt was completely torn to shreds. Cuts were all around his torso, along with growing bruises and more than enough broken ribs. Blood trickled down from his forehead and jaw, and his hair was a complete mess. One arm was rendered almost useless for anything aside from blocking, as the gash seemed to get worse in pain. Sirius was in a similar condition. Both were weakened substantially by the battle.

“You’re weakened as well,” Sirius said, pushing his sword closer to Cyrus’ chest, “I can see it in your eyes.”

Cyrus never broke his poker face expression, his crackling green hues the exact opposite of Sirius’ dead pitch blacks. Polar opposites, and yet almost the same. “Yes, but I am still stronger than you are. I have more energy, and I will outlast you.”

Sirius chuckled, “And what makes you think such an outlandish thought?”

Cyrus was silent for a moment, pushing his blade against Sirius’, both men struggling against the other, but it was suddenly clear that Cyrus was winning. “Because…I have a purpose. A will to go on. You say that the most dangerous man is one without love or a thing to care for. Yet, the reason I have so much energy is because I want to see the faces of my friends and family again. The reason I am stronger is because of my purpose to rid the world of your horrible dictatorship.”

Cyrus’ anger boiled within, before finally exploding like a volcano, “And it is for that purpose that I will DESTROY YOU!”

Cyrus pushed against Sirius’ sword with every last fiber of energy in his being. Then, in an explosion of energy, the obsidian sword of Sirius shattered to pieces from the pressure of Cyrus’ Trinity. The force of the break made Sirius’ knees buckle, and before he could process what had happened or counteract against it, A sudden pain exploded through his body.

Sirius, numb for the first split second of it, looked to his right to find that his arm had fallen to the dirt, the side of his torso now a bleeding hole. As he looked forward, Cyrus’ shimmering sword had sliced completely through all muscles and bone.

Cyrus then thrust the long sword into Sirius’ chest with a scream, and thrust it out of his body just as quickly as the once proud man fell to his knees. The pain of his stab wound and his right arm registered all at once, and the pain was just too much for him to bear. He screamed into the skies, his arm grasping the stump where his other used to be as blood pooled on the sullied dirt.

“This…This is…IMPOSSIBLE,” Sirius struggled to say, staring up at Cyrus, the man holding the blood soaked Trinity that had obliterated his sword and himself, “I…I am your RULER. I am ALL POWERFUL!”

He swayed back and forth, trying to keep his balance and to say conscious, “I AM YOUR GOD!,” He hissed helplessly at Cyrus.

It was in that moment that time seemed to slow to a crawl. Cyrus could feel all of the weight on his shoulders that he had been carrying. All of the horrible things that he had seen. All of the death and despair he saw on his journey. Then, he could feel it all fizzle away as he lifted his blade one more time, with Sirius still grasping onto the final threads of life. He could feel everything pay off as he swung his sword in a complete arc, slicing through the neck of his emperor, crimson blood splattering on the ground and on Cyrus’ legs. Sirius’ head rolled from his shoulders and onto the ground, h

So the novel in it's entirety is all done for now, although I'd like to call it a rough draft because there's still a lot of revising to do. I just want to thank anybody that's actually been keeping up with this novel, and as I said before any suggestions on scenes to add/pull out or just on something better I can do would be greatly appreciated. I hope everyone who read it enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. Iluvyouguise

How long did it take you to write all these chapters? How many hours-chapters per day? I'd really like to know to brace myself for a future novel of mine. Or a series of shorts I'm planning ;)

I spent anywhere from 2 to 4 hours of mostly every day of November, writing two chapters a day for most of the days with the exception of a few. It took a lot of commitment considering schoolwork and everything.