Blood's Sacrifice

Prologue

Blue lightning shrieked through the gloomy, overcast afternoon sky, followed by an echoing, deafening thunderclap; all to strike heat within a flash's notice. A darkly burning fire waged war amongst the clouds that parted by the force, followed by the lingering lightning intensifying... roaring... and swiftly changing hues. The lightning, now purple in hue, struck harder than anything that had ever been felt in the atmosphere previous, bringing back the primal fear of the unknown onto the very Earth itself. The unmistakable anger left a creature falling all the way down, no different from a crashing dart with shreds of the bolts' remnants left rippling through the precious white of their fur. A darker figure with wings quickly swooped forward and followed, dragging them down from the skies with claws planted firmly into their neck... sinking deeper and deeper until they both found themselves plummeting into the ground with a crash that shook the foundations. Once the dust had settled, a small pool of blood started to slowly fill within the crater, for which the larger beast's sharpness had pierced all the way through their throat. The white, swiftly becoming drenched with the running, warm red ooze which began to stain the few lilac highlights along their body; along with some of the creature's dark mane. She groaned with a pained whimper, involuntarily coughing at the seams... those light violet eyes staring into the dark red contrast that willed to sorely deliver.

Chapter One

Signs

Thunder exploded, shaking the earth. Savannah Rose, in the self, with difference of cream and brown colors, was someone separate... although once again, so deeply close in the makings of reality, further down within the threads of existence. The core; the image. Such concepts brought him great thought, alluring and infinitely complicating the motions of his own perspective... all in the cozy comfort of a cafe, as he sipped leisurely from a cup of coffee every now and then. The other animals, those that were there all around him, chattered out their spoken words with teeth clattering and clashing with those moving, sliding tongues; something that could even be heard through the rippling, booming storm if one listened in carefully enough. This Savannah was relatively undisturbed throughout it all, but with his senses kept keen, there was no way he could simply ignore it. The pressure was everywhere. He may not have noticed it entirely, but his body was already used to picking up on the tension, and naturally so... the city, and moreover the world in which he knew and lived in day-by-day would be building up upon a predestined ruin with each and every passing second. The rain fell. Some droplets having left their running marks from splashing against the busy concrete, and scattering onto the window panels of the establishment. Others just blew with the wind, inevitably crashing. The fox-feline carefully wondered if any of the strangers walking outside past the window frames could properly feel the winds kicking up against their pelts, or if they were already too numb to even notice. It did not really matter, he realized. Any of it. All were part of a convoluted mess of the people's own makings. And so, Savannah grasped what he wanted to fulfill. A particular something that granted him happiness, deep within his storming mind which seemed to cleverly resemble that of the outside conditions. He knew, yet he did not know! As he went to take one more sip, the cup had already been emptied, to his surprise. Apparently, he already had his fill... time after time again. This time though, once more, Savannah got up and went for the exit, leaving the matching twin-adjacent red seat behind him across the abstract, stone tabletop of various colors. Someone else would just be there occupy it later, he was sure. In his mind, he distinctly remembered that such a table was once a simple white before, which later served to become a more complex design after it was reworked, and supposedly improved. The air around him was changing again... and this time, he was there to witness the unfolding madness for himself. As it was pushed, the front door's bell rang out echoingly, purely chaotic in its essence. Savannah Rose was gone... and so too was the world.

Chapter Two

Etheric Encounter

It was a beautiful day outside, holding a stark contrast to the day prior. A large, glass and shiny mirror with mainly black and purple mixed antique frame stood in front of a staring Savannah, adjusting his vision to match the other gazing right back. Under his eyes, he could see the cast shadow at the angle of which he tilted his head... making his brown, bright orbs suddenly seem dark and morbid, as if without, or lacking light. Then he returned his head to the regular position, and he was fine. "Everything is... back to normal." Savannah Rose uttered out, the fox-feline hybrid still obsessed with the figure in the mirror.

Chapter Three

Recycle

Savannah managed to reach the location that the card offered him the address to. A regular looking, gray building... as he would open the door. Quite suddenly, everything went black. "...W-what happened?! W-why is everything..." Then, he felt as if he was suddenly jettisoned out of his being, the multi-colored fabrics of his body blurring within the darkness of the moment. As he crashed, he let the glass wall that was behind him break and shatter into what seemed literally like millions of pieces. Gasping with echo, he watched as all the shards fully flew out... flinching as he instinctively tried to block himself from any of it cutting him. They seemed to all immediately come back into place, and just float there... reflecting his own colors at him, and at the same time, being his very colors himself. Awe-struck, the young Savannah couldn't tell that the glass shards would soon explode right in front of him, going off into many different directions and sending him flying back to be sucked into a hole from the darkness, his body getting engulfed entirely. As with muffled breaths, he tried to get out... but simply could not, as the black sucked him up entirely, part by part... and spat him out on the other side. Suddenly, a pure white came to his vision... and although he shielded his eyes in pain, he could still see the light penetrating through. And suddenly, his eyes were forced open again as everything came back into view. Everything... everything... slowly coming back into view, right in front of him as he sat down there, still in that chair next to the desk of that one, gray robed figure. "Do you believe in fate, Savannah Rose?" She asked of him. "It is fate that brought you here." Savannah just looked around, practically stunned, unable to tell where he really was despite all the details of the room coming into placement again. "You have to ask yourself... 'who am I, and why am I here?'" She explained, "Ask yourself the big questions, and then you will find your way to truth." "...What?" Savannah mumbled, dumbfoundedly. "Who... are you?" The lady with a hood chuckled along the white fur on her face, from what he could tell behind the robe, behind the hood, behind what was her masking. Then, the chuckle broke into an all-out laugh... which shocked him all the more as he grimaced, but she would then shortly stop thereafter, and lower her hood to reveal herself. "I am death, Savannah Rose." Trei said, matter-of-factly. "And you, have died. Only... your body has not found the means of coping with it, so you are still presently here, but in a copy of the reality that you came from." "..." Savannah was hard-pressed to believe what he was hearing from such an utter stranger, having only been separated from her by what seemed to be a wooden table, a fortune-teller's orb, and two chairs, one in which he sat, and her the other on the opposite side. "Liar." He growled, calling her out with a nervously anxious point with his paw, still getting back to the feel of things. It seemed that they were in some kind of red tent of sorts... with some kind of 'natural' light emanating from the purple of the orb. "I don't believe you... in fact, I shouldn't believe anything you say, and I should probably just leave now." Savannah grumbled, as he continued, and she continued, staring at this Savannah with the same, hauntingly light violet eyes. "I mean, how could I? What kind of sickly person announces themselves as death? I must have just fallen asleep, that's all." Trei laughed, and there was just silence. The grin on her face spoke more prominently than her eyes... but really, it started to creep him out. He grumbled once more, and sought to move his body off the chair to go, seeing an exit to the tent right behind him. "Whatever... I'm leaving." "Before you go," She reached out, which seemed to stop him right in place, as he scanned her face once more. "Ask yourself this: What is life, and what is death?" Trei smiled, "How would you differentiate yourself between the two? And how would you know if I am lying, or if I am not?" That seemed to make him listen, as the male's ears perked... and with an annoyed sigh, he leaned himself back into the chair once more. "This all does not matter, but it also does." Trei purred, pleasantly. "Welcome to the paradox that is existence eternal." Her smile widened a little, brief, but noticeable. "This is the place that exists between heaven and hell— a purgatory, if you will... which ultimately can also represent a heaven, or hell respectively... depending on how you look at it, and depending on how the world distributes its natural laws accordingly." "...Umm." Savannah was fairly intelligent enough to actually, or at least partially understand the mumbo-jumbo that spewed out of the creature's mouth. In fact, he really couldn't tell her species... as she seemed like a fox, a dog, and a cat strangely enough, all at once... and so was her strange scent. Was it just his perception that was going amiss, or did it just feel like it? He was still secretly questioning in his mind what he had experienced earlier, when he entered this place for the first time. For instance, how did he end up in a tent...? It was all so very, very bizarre to Savannah. "I think I understand, so please continue." Trei nodded. "My answers will come quite simple to you, but also quite complex at first to think about, perhaps." She then put a paw on the crystal ball in the middle of the table, and it shone a bright light in response, almost blindingly with that same purple, illuminating hue growing stronger and stronger... actually forcing Savannah to shield his eyes for a moment with another short growl. "This is the end of the Earth itself," She showed... as she displayed a great ruin of utter, and complete insanity. Natural disasters plagued the major city Imagia that he lived in... as he could see the tallest of buildings fall, the greatest of earthquakes and twisters and sea-drenching alike all happening at a very, very rapid pace as if nightmarish in essence— as if unreal. Then... the scene slowly switched to other places around the world, each seemingly with the exact same horrid conditions happening. "It all starts in Imagia, and spreads outwards." Trei explains, "And you, or anyone else cannot stop this ruin— for it is predetermined, just like the time an apple decides to fall from a tree." "Why— why would you... why would you show me this?!" Savannah blurted out, shaking the table in the process. She closed her eyes, and then reopened them, "Because my name is Trei... or perhaps you already knew that, deep down." A small flicker in the brown of his eyes told her that she was right. "My name is my role, and my role is my name. We have already met, because everything has already happened, and you are just slow in perception to perceive it." Savannah remained quiet, before just leaning back in his chair, a grumbling mess, tapping a claw to his face as he waited impatiently for her to just stop talking. "My goal here is not to frighten you." She explained, further, "Hell, I could not even care what emotions you feel towards seeing this." "Well, clearly." Savannah blurted out, a bit annoyed, at this point... as the ball would soon stop displaying its features of an earthly hell. "My goal here is to simply show you the befalling of you, and your paradise on Earth; as it has happened many a time before, infinitely even. We all play a role in this life, and that, Savannah Rose, is mine at current." "Great, can I leave now?" Trei chuckled, "You may, but you won't." "Who told—" "You that?" She smiled, easily completing his sentence for him. "I can already tell. It's all in your head, funnily enough." She laughed some more, "Actually, the very make-up of this room, this tent you see here, is just what you made up yourself after seeing me cloaked for the first time. But... moving on." Savannah was admittedly frightened, as if he did not know if to believe this lady that was spewing nonsense, whether it was actually sense mixed up in there... or just pure and utter trash. But it felt like she was right when she said he could not leave. That she had him... like a puppet, stuck there... and the gaze and ethereal glimmer of her purple-hued eyes certainly kept him glued on the spot. "You are getting impatient as always, so I will quickly wrap our encounter up." She told him, "I—" Savannah Rose exited out of the tent, going through what felt like a dark tunnel until he ended up at something that felt solid, reached to open it, and was met with a revealing, bright light by comparison. He was out of the tunnel, the knowledge implanted in his very being now... as he went back out from where he came, and looked back in a shocked, truly astonishing awe. The once gray building was gone. And there was nothing there. Everything else around him though... looked the exact same. He was out... but he truly did not know what he was in for, now.

Chapter Four

Fork

Indescribable waves of confusion filled the young male as he sat down against the wall of a run-down looking alleyway, filled with endless emotions that clashed with each other to thoroughly corrupt and shatter at his very being more. The mentals did not care for Savannah Rose, enough to put him out of his misery— to be left unconscious, in sleep, coma, or death. No... it was a rather harsh time, like all other times that felt like life wanting to make the most skin-curling, acidic lemons into insipid lemonade. Everything was already spoiled. Everything. It always had been... but Savannah's big heart, while sat there and beginning to bleed out the first few tears like an everyday anxious toddler, tried not to believe as such until everything was revealed to him. Ultimately, the brutalities of this life were heartbreaking. To the core, the very best he could do was weep more, and wait for himself to eventually stop leaking like a fountain... back to weeping like a child. The very illusion of adulthood when compared to the childish soul was always cruel on the body. No one ever realized this until it was too late; they were already crying. They were already a child again. One could never be sturdy forever. One could never be fully indestructible. Everything had its ups and downs. Savannah bled those tears well while fully knowing the fundamentals of the cruelty in the life that he lived in; this awkward, gut-wrenching and severing reality that paled against his greatest of dreams as he woke to discover that the world was ending, and had already ended because it was ending. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise... but he was still there, in the ending phase. That meant that he would have to suffer through this facade of duality— light and dark, in each and every teeth grinding, terrible experience that would come from the already terrible world before him. The sourest of lemons. The people attempted to make sweet lemonade with the sourest of lemons. They, in Savannah's mind, were foolish. But his conscious mind was an utter blur. His subconscious, on the other hand, knew everything it needed to know. That was where the aspect of foolishness was already discovered, and then some. Concepts whirling, and whirling, and whirling around in his mind made him cry. All babies cried once they were born. Externally, if the physical anatomy of their bodies could even muster up said tears. Internally, as their soul wept for the unfair treatment of being cast aside in an unjust, unfair world that did not know how to keep its balance for the betterment of all. Truth: everyone, to their deepest layer, was still infantile. It did not matter where the tears were. Tears were tears. All over the fur— all over the fur of Savannah as he wailed about the true grayness of the world that no one else wanted to accept. No one else, he felt. Even if he convinced one of such a thing, he could only hope that they did not turn tail on him like the rest, for another single silly mistake he did not mean to do... and go back to their ways of evil again. He, a person that loved so much would never seem to be loved back as much in the hellish dystopia that the world's evil so craved to be birthed as a nightmare from the combined consciousness of the masses. He could only hope that his love's light could triumph over the vastly overwhelming forces of dooming darkness, pitch black and laughing eternally with a slither and hiss in its motioning sin, often disguised as blessing. Savannah Rose screamed as he cried. And as he screamed, he died. And as he died, he lived. And he laughed throughout the tears of this reversed evil wept. Madly. The conscious mind could not comprehend it all, so all it could do was spit out the egregious laughter from his source of illness. Intrinsically and sickly plagued by his environment, eventually beginning to cough through the blood-curdling laughter and wails that echoed within the busy, yet empty world for no one to listen. Not a soul would bother to even consider saving another soul. Not a soul cared. Selfishness is, and was the sin that rarely anyone tried to fix themselves by opposing; by becoming the opposite. He clawed at the walls throughout this greater tantrum, eyes widened throughout the loss; throughout the illusion of time being severed as everything became one as it always was. He could damage himself. His claws could break, his body could bleed, his chest could convulse... Should, could, would, and is; et cetera. The very nature of life's paradox did not care for power. It did not care for anything. All perspectives, no matter how varied, all blended together in great fundamentals. It was an infinitely perplexing mask of matrix which existed just to exist. Knowing that it could never be fixed fully left it to exist. The error was the solution. And this... is life. Savannah Rose was yet another victim, left in a reality of hell, and forced to live it out until the pendulum swung again... perhaps for the better the next time. But by then, he would be gone. In identity; yet his eternal soul would most likely live on. His mind broke. But his heart would still keep him there. Enslaved... all puppets were puppets of puppets! Infinitely! Savannah Rose wished for the betterment of the world. Savannah Rose wished for the betterment of the world. Savannah Rose wished for the betterment of the world. But. There was always something to get in the way of that, at one point or the other. 'It is what it is.' If love truly conquered all... then Savannah simply could not wait for it to conquer the hell that he appeared to be in. Savannah Rose could not wait. Savannah Rose could not wait. Savannah Rose could not wait... for relief. For the greater good would be what he had to stand for, till the end of his days. Against darkness. Or perhaps, he would just turn another hue of gray. A fork is a fork. Incomplete, yet whole. Branching... Heat lightning flash. Heat lightning flash. Heat lightning flash. Whole, yet incomplete.

Chapter Five

Etheric Reencounters

"Hey Savannah!" A familiar voice called out to the fox-feline just as he was about to leave the locale. Savannah turned, the fur on his back rippling with the still sensitive sensations of what he had experienced within the building not too long ago. It spiked up even more with who he was about to see. "Do you have a moment?" Douglas smiled his usual wide-grinned, seductively alluring look on his face. Savannah grimaced, as he slowly tried to turn back and walk away again, "Uhm... no, I really don't..." Suddenly, he would feel a warm paw on his shoulder blade as he was just about to leave... the toasty temperature trying to keep him from moving on further, unless there was something else to it. "I think you really should reconsider," Aiszer spoke, softening his tone up to the clearly unraveling rose that was Savannah, "I see you took the red card up to heart!" He went on, as Savannah stared into those deep scarlet, glimmering eyes, entranced by the very bloody presence it quickly implied to his mind. Secretly, the male adored it... finding it very attractive, but evil looking. "I'm flattered that you did... really glad, actually," Douglas continued, his improvisational words as smooth as if reading an invisible script, "Now that you know the truth of the world like everyone else that isn't hopelessly brainwashed, I would very much like you to come with me." "Me?" Savannah asked, in a retorting manner, still a bit aggressive to the handsome, taller male beside him. "Why should I ever come with you, or your sick little maid that you run about with all the time?" Douglas widened his eyes a bit, as if not expecting the response... but simply cleared his throat. "Ahem," He attempted to start over with his smile twisting a tinge to the remark, "Well, for starters... I own a wealthy company that specializes in the production of weapo—" "I don't care about that!" Savannah spat, leaning into the male's personal space with an antagonizing posture, seemingly ready to strike. "You've tricked me!" "...My my," Douglas sighed, as if dreading to explain something like this, "My dear child, I haven't tricked you at all... and now that you have the knowledge, you know that very well, don't you?" Savannah stared, but didn't say anything... thinking the matter over in his head. "Yes, I'm sure you can see it," He elaborated further, "Those of the curious and otherwise 'righteously' liberating origins of the original sin will always continue to repeat their intrinsic dance, over and over again." Savannah listened carefully once more, grasped to giving his words attention. "I was only your means of a catalyst, in this case... but as you might guess, these things tend to manifest themselves in many different forms. That is, the truth tends to leak into this world no matter how many times you try to stifle it." Douglas summarized, "But you, Savannah Rose... you play a special role in this truth, once again... or at least you can." The dark furred fox-feline smirked, and offered his paw over to the lighter, "All you have to do is come with me, and we will right all of the world's wrongs." He promised him, "I have everything sorted out already, and I will fill you in along the way. All I desire right now, Savannah... is your support to my— no, *our* cause." "..." Savannah was left in his own silence for a while to grimace once more, clearly thinking it through by the looks of it with a stormy mind already brewing within. "We... we can never fix this world." Savannah spoke aloud, finally. "We can never change this world's deeper structures, no matter how hard we try. That is one thing I have learned on this journey... and I'm sure you know that too." Douglas did not say anything, but only raised his eyes ever so subtly with a listening, shimmering sparkle deep within those reds. "So then— then what nonsense is it that you are trying to say to me about changing the structure?" He growled, "'Changing the world?' 'Righting all the wrongs?' It's just gibberish! It's impossible! No one has ever managed to do that for all of time, otherwise we would not be living in the constant hell that we are forced to reside in now!" There was another moment of silence between the two. Their stares... contesting, contrasting; brown against red, battling, fully in the know of each other's selves. "Very well..." Douglas sighed once more, rather deeply this time. "If you are not convinced in the new paradise that I am about to usher into the world, then I guess I will have to show you my conviction... by force." Savannah's vision broadened as he felt a sudden tenseness in the air begin to rise up around them. A rich, blood red bubbling which became controlled through an ambassador of dread: that, in itself, was Douglas Aiszer. This abyssal red colored aura around him was relative to the fiery pits of hell, and certainly felt that way to all of Savannah's alerted, frightened senses that caused him to slowly back away. Yet still... he persisted, holding his ground. "The offer still stands, Savannah Rose." Douglas said, smile wiped serious. "But I suppose like all stubborn people, I will have to teach you a lesson or two, first." Savannah hissed, "Bring it!" "Very well." Douglas was the first to move, and Savannah the second to his movement. The darker male reached over to claw his back in half with a single strike, but was stopped in a split second with Savannah's expectation to dodge; colliding the attack into the ground instead with a hammering, small crater being left behind. As Douglas raised his vision, he was confronted by a heaping breath of continuous fire engulfing him directly from Savannah's mouth, which struck fiercely with the burning rage that he felt deep within his heart. "Fire." Spoke the male wrapped in bright, sweeping flames, until Savannah was forced to stop and catch his breath again. It seemed that Douglas' aura had blocked out most of the attack, leaving him almost completely unscathed! "A neat little trick... what other tricks do you have up your sleeve?" Douglas chuckled, and this all just made Savannah angrier. He growled out loudly, roaring as he lunged towards the overly calm enemy with the intention of ripping his chin off, claws fully unsheathed to be met with an opposing paw hitting it away to the side. Then, Douglas quickly jabbed him in the neck with the other causing him to grunt, before swiftly spinning around at an unrelenting speed to swat Savannah away with his largely powerful tail, just as he was about to block. "Agh!" Savannah shrieked as he was flung into the air, still in the precious guarding stance that immediately evaporated once he made contact with the ground, scraping his body back until it eventually stopped, and he attempted to get back up again. "It was a good thing that you blocked," Douglas cooed, as he walked slowly towards him, "You're so weak; I didn't want you to die just yet." With a groan from the light stutter of pain, Savannah rose up and immediately tried to strike him down while leaping. Douglas blocked his first hit with ease once more, but soon realized that this time, Savannah came faster with an electrifying static in his jump. This caused Douglas' body to be stunned just long enough for Savannah to lash into the male with a direct strike to his face with the other paw, bounded up with the lasts of the concentrated, yellow energy of a lightning-powered, reverberating strike. "...Electricity." Douglas hissed, recovering from the blow with a deathly cold stare in his eyes as his body was sent back a bit, and he was forced to recoil. Savannah smirked cocky as the static crackled, to which he then landed smoothly with remains rippling around the fur along his body, sparking new threads of lightning with each severe, energetic collision. "You must be really dumb to think that I would go down without a fight," He glared at the opposition through the scope of his own reddened eyes swiftly replacing his previous, milder browns with rage. Douglas laughed on... briefly closing his eyes before slowly reopening them. "Oh... I knew you wouldn't." Savannah looked confused by a slowly revealing grin upon Douglas' face soon forming, until he felt an abrupt closing coming from his throat. "A-ack! W-what..." Urgently, he immediately tried to check what was happening to himself, only to find that familiar black and red aura rising along the section of his neck, choking him. "A great, oppressive force..." He spoke with his resuming gait of undisturbed, tranquil proportions. "Yet so rebellious at its source, just like yourself." Savannah collapsed onto the floor breathlessly as the electricity defensively covering him faded away slowly until it ceased entirely, and his eyes returned to their regular, brown hues again. He was clearly pained... and Douglas simply relished in this. He casually circled around Savannah with a smooth, brisk and lightly playful humming, before forcefully pinning him down with a more than blunt, brutal slam down under, causing Savannah's head to collide with the hard, concrete floor beneath his big paws as the male was left only but to gasp and grunt out weakly. "That jab you received earlier?" Douglas explained, with a devilish smirk fastened to his already widely grinning expression. "Was all that was needed for you to fall under me, like the slave you are." Savannah's face turned red as his vision blurred. He panted heavily, gasping for air yet noticing an unfamiliar, strange feeling beneath his loins. The dominant, larger black furred male grinded back his claws against the others' skull to leave him screaming... then Savannah could feel him just grab tightly at the back of his scruff; pulling him in closer like that of a toy doll whilst Douglas carelessly rubbed up against him with a purr, and groan. Now, stuttering with a failing, airless body to his dying will, Savannah knew exactly what that *thing* was. The male's very large sheathe teased him to no end as he desperately tried to escape, but there was no one there to help him or witness them firmly pressed into the act. "Aaa— a-aa..." Savannah gulped, his body a shivering, quivering mess as he soon realized that he was only being played with. He had lost the very moment Douglas landed the first blow... and now... was he finally going to be punished for his foolishness? In such a way like this, Savannah froze up, and... "Relax." Douglas spoke up, as he then released the smaller male by the neck and let him fall helplessly onto the floor below him, suddenly able to breathe again as he soon rasped for that missing oxygen in his lungs. "As you very well know, I am not a savage such as yourself, Savannah Rose. I will let you submit to me when you are ready, and only then... because you will come around eventually, whether you believe it or not." "Fire, and lightning," He continued, as Savannah groaned and desperately tried to bring himself back up again, almost on the verge of unconsciousness, "Chaos, and lifedrain." Douglas snickered, "There's something funny about our bond that I just seem to love. We do always come back to each other, after all..." Savannah looked back at him with panted breath to see that he was still smirking, as wickedly as ever... aura gone, but looming just as strong. "...Light, and dark!" He announced, finally. "How very ugly of you though, to play such an indecent role in our contrast! You untidy, rebellious brat." He chuckled on, "This society will never truly accept people like you who try so desperately hard to stand out. To be so... so different! Yet still, you continue to rebel." Savannah grinded his teeth in agony, almost falling back down from an unexpected lapse of consciousness again before endeavoring to recover. "Play the game, Savannah Rose." Douglas said, essentially shouting it against the very beating of his eardrums, echoingly. "Play it well... and do not ever try to cheat it, or it *will* cheat you back in the end." Savannah instinctively took the opportunity to escape from his insanely strong attacker, activating a flight-filled response in him at once. His steps dizzy and clumsy from the exchanges... yet still revealing how much he wanted to get out of there with the hasty speed at which he went! "You child!" Douglas spat after him as he ran away, allowing him to go for the time being. "You pale in comparison to the certainty of what *is* to come!" And so... Echoingly... echoingly... Indescribable waves of confusion filled the young male as he sat down against the wall of a run-down looking alleyway, filled with endless emotions that clashed with each other to thoroughly corrupt and shatter at his very being more.

Chapter Six

Home is where the heart is

"I have broken the glass of sanity, and it cannot be repaired. Now, all the pieces are there, laughing at me." Savannah uttered quietly to himself, as he laid down in bed. This was it. From the episodic moments that all stemmed from the before, beauty had blossomed into this one, particular period of complete madness... or so it felt. What he knew. If the game was once already over— why was he still here? He asked, and asked, and the answer (or rather, lack thereof) singed, and cursed at his already worn out mind and body from fighting life's battle, after battle, over and over again. Savannah's apartment in Imagia was humble, modest, and anything but fanciful; which, in a very odd and poetic sense of life, once more, resembled himself. In his room, he stared along the grays of the walls, thinking of so many, many things. This was not a home, however. This was just his resting place, if temporary. And his coffin, if permanent. That he knew, as consciousness rung his active mind over and over repeatedly with questions that could make him sweat through his fur, heated and feeling lifelessly numb; sick under what flesh became of his body, encasing his purer soul in hellish prison. He had been living all his life so far in a purgatory. This fact, and this fact alone would leave anyone speechless, and wanting more to grasp upon. More to understand, in order to not be so speechless. In order to not be left there, screaming, at the fabric of this wickedly projected 'reality' which came to be, and worsen. And worsen. And worsen. This storm that was brewing in his own world. He did not know what it would exactly be like, or how it would precisely manifest... yet he had seen it all for himself already. Blindly, his other senses, definitively, knew. Deep within those bones. With once energetic, brown eyes then dulled, he turned and turned, like a rabid dog, ever so occasionally unsure, and showing that through his lack of a comfortable spot and position. The covers, which had once so gently tugged to him, had been pushed off, leaving Savannah's body bare to the elements. There was no point in shielding himself from the bitter reality anymore. This cause, affiliated by that strange fortune teller... was it anything worth fighting for? He struggled, and struggled to find an answer to this whilst he laid there limp. Surely, he did not feel like there was anything left to do but watch. What could he do, against something that was already years into motion long before even his birth? Death, and only death, was certain; like always. Late afternoon's sunlight then shone through the window like the blistering hellfire that it was. Somehow, it decided to manage through overcast skies. God, The Watcher's, fervently eyed light felt so proudly, and boldly uncaring that it would continue to shine itself amongst a city; amongst a world that was soon destined to be left in ruins. In Savannah's buzzing mind, he found this the most ironic, crude and senseless thing that his head could only try to wrap his brain around. His very attempt to fathom such a heedless God was immeasurable, at best. They were soulful creator gods all, against one pathetically imbued tyrant that sought control. ...And then, he chuckled. He laughed... gleefully, at the all-encompassing insanity. Sleeping; perhaps he would continue to exist, after all.

Chapter Seven

The World Changes

"The red curtain opens up again, and another scene is presented to the audience..." The dogged English teacher said, about ready to wrap up with the day's class. The sound of the ringing bell beat her to it, however... along with the familiarly eager, abrupt shuffling amongst desks. "Alright everyone, please review Chapters 13-19 of your text for..." The black saluki spoke, voice fighting within the mixture of many steps. That white uniform of his shuffled along the table. and from his head already being down, Marqes was vividly upset. But what day would grant him any form of promised salvation from this fate? The Grade 9's hopes ran dry through white brick walls and corridors, suffocating his being to the point where he was now. Lifeless. With a groan, the teen had 'woken' up; white fox with slight grey shades to an empty classroom. It was currently lunchtime, and Chemistry would be next among PE to seal off the closing day. Marqes regrettably lifted his tired hinds and finally got out into the hallway. His grayish blue eyes glittered faintly like a fish, ready to keel over at a moment's notice. Novus High was hated by Marqes— where in fact he did not try to fake it out like his peers. Rather, everyone knew he was 'different', and simply left it at that. Yet despite this, the fox was supposedly nothing special. He inherited no powers from his family, unlike those that did... although on the bright side this would also leave him without the feeling of being regulated. Assumedly harmless, little flitters of tracking eyes would watch him as he passed by the hallways, about ready to head towards the cafeteria to engage in his daily 'slop-eating' (as he would put it). "Hey, watch it!" A female voice sounded, which absolutely stunted him out of his zombie-like haze and brought some life towards his attention. "Ahh," He said, looking back up at whom he had bounced into, "My stalker is here again, at long last." "What was that?!" The nerdy gray fox-feline exclaimed, adjusting her square-rimmed glasses whilst she stared at him. A look of disgust swiftly matched her expression, "I'm not stalking you!" "So they all say," He mused, staring off into a different direction. "For your information, I was just about to go inside and bumped into you... do you have a problem with tha—" Marqes did not care for the conversation. He had entered inside the lunchroom without a moment's notice. The girl outside was left with her sentence hung, similar to the pure fox's felt mood leftover. From there, it was the usual lining. Take a tray, shovel the food, eat the food; leave. About ready to sit down by his lonesome, a familiar voice followed after him, but he simply ignored it. He simply ignored it. ...Until he could not simply ignore it any longer. "What." He responded after sitting down by the empty lunch table, practically bursting with the opposite of life as he readied to eat his rice and chicken, "What do you want—" "I was hoping you would get the memo by now," A strange male voice that came from a black and white feline told him, "But I guess not." "The... what?" "See, you're just as bitter as before, like you've always been." The lithe, skinnier-than-him tom proceeded to sit without question, speaking his maw. "You don't really care, do you? I see you every day here, like this... and you just don't care." "What—" "When will you show feeling?" He berated on, "When will you understand that no one cares how 'emo' you look, or how much attitude you put on... all you're doing is making yourself look more and more like a clown." "What the—" Marqes shouted, and suddenly rose to his seat with widened eyes and an abrupt display of anger, which seemed to attract those eyes again, flittering around and through him like needles. "Where did you come from?!" He inquired, demandingly, "Who the fuck are you?!" "It doesn't matter," The crafty feline shrugged, "I've said what I needed to say. Anything else is simply a matter of you getting what's coming to you." Marqes heart beat fast, more-over ready to beat the brat-looking individual into next year. He didn't care for fighting, but this time there was no definitive depth to how much the vulpine wanted to tear his claws into that kid's skull. Although apparently younger than him, but perhaps actually the same age and grouping. He was surprised he didn't run into him before... but then, Marqes realized what was going on. ...Or so, he thought he did. The white fox left without another word. In the bathroom, there he was... washing off his face with cold water under the less-than-adequately clean school sink. "I can't—" Marqes rasped, vomiting up a storm that had seemingly been due for a very long, long time. He was under pressure. For some reason, the white-knighted brat who came to the girl's rescue had seemingly gotten under his fur. *His fur.* Marqes heaved, and then sighed. He breathed heavily... and almost felt himself ready to cry. What was building up inside of him all this time, he thought? Animosity? Regret? When he looked at himself in the mirror... those furred, strung out features... they were not what he was familiar with. It was like looking at a monster, rather than himself. Slightly reddened eyes widened with sharp fangs out... and wanting to bite into something desperately. It was there that he laughed. Even now, he was alone again, in a smelly bathroom (as opposed to the other odorous places). This was how he would be forced to spend his lunchtime, until the bell would shortly ring minutes later. He felt this horrendous. He felt this wrong. With another sigh, and some more contemplative staring under a dripping wet face, Marqes returned to his saddened lifestyle anew. Not a tear was shed, however. Perhaps another time, he figured. As the next scene had already begun.

Chapter Seven.Five

Polaris

*"For the greater good, it is always necessary."* Or so it was thought. However... Tempestuous fires swept— the very walls of Novus High taken up in flames that gloomy afternoon; leaving black, cloudy formations of rippling, rising smoke within its roaring wake. Was this good, too? Marqes thought, as his eyes were left with the vision of the foreshadowed fire taken form; glistening over his grey blue eyes like an overcast reflection coming from the window that he sat nearby. The very glass that kept him in, would be the glass which inevitably freed him in a cascading, consequent set of successive events; allowing the sight itself that one eventful day. As he sat by a desk in Chemistry, a very sinister thought formation bloomed within the young male's head— albeit a justified one (for himself). It was not without encouragement, however... when he realized that something was very much, in fact, out there. Yet he did not know for sure exactly what. Along the front (from his perspective) of a lone oak tree that teens would gather around ever so often, he spotted something so very quaint, yet frail looking just... laying there. Moving, with hints and traces of squirming motions occasionally without him ever having to lift a paw up. Also without... ever being *able* to lift a paw up, the primarily white fox soon realized. He was stuck in class; the thought of revenge weighing on his mind from earlier. The thought of... something— breaking free? The thought of it giving some sort of meaning to the monotonous grey that was the world he lived in. The world that he was forced to participate in— was also the world that would soon be reminded of the primordial urges it so blatantly suppressed. And so, it was. Tempestuous fires swept the very walls of Novus High. ...But no one knew the cause. Visibly, students and teachers alike were far too busy running for their lives in an "organized" panic, scattering like ants to a drop of water— or more suitably, in this case, its polar opposite. Marqes only smirked at the distraction, when he was done. The fire alarm having been triggered by him as well earlier to signal the event occurring— further adding, and overall beginning the ensuing chaos. But he didn't *have* to do it. There were pangs of regret left in his heart. It may not have necessarily been at a loss for burning the very institution he resided in (potentially down to the ground), no— but it was certainly for the fact that he had to actually get this far to even take a proper break from the seemingly endless routine and struggle. The powerless soon became empowered— body and being rich with endless delight that tickled him to his core like a light, floaty feather. ...But such a thing was pointless, again, to the grand scheme of it all. It was clear. When Marqes came upon the object he had seen in question... his eyes were not prepared for the actual sight. The very confirmation of it all would surely rattle his mind. In an instant, all preconceived notions of the world had motioned into a swift breaking, like glass... familiar glass; the standard transforming into the unusual (even in a world of ferals with powers). ...What laid before him, was an extremely small, white dragon. And what astonished him more was the very fact of the uncanny resemblance— grey features plastered onto the creature as well, past its scaly wings and along the streaks of its bodily make-up. "...What? I-I..." The male fumbled for words under the warmth of the dancing fire behind his nervously moving tail, and the frantic echoes of screams— and wails— and cries which filled the air behind him in ghastly, vibrating sensations against the air of reality itself. Stumbling for a grasp of existence again though, was certainly not something he had the time and luxury to fumble with. Marqes swiftly went into his messenger bag pressed firmly along his waist (which he had secured from the lockers after sneaking out of Chemistry previous), and put the frail, meager frame of a dragon carefully inside one of the front pockets that would hold him the most tenderly. Then, he would flee the scene, vanishing. And so, just as the sudden historical, profoundly rare appearance of a dragon came, it went. Swooped away by a mortal... Swooped away by Marqes, the "powerless" white fox. ...And as he had touched the dragon, he knew that its name was Polaris.

Chapter Eight

Chaos and Order

Rain began to fall with its eager descent. As he continually ran himself over to the street where his house was, Marqes for once seemed to contemplate in his mind if a god really existed. Such a prime opportunity was... rare, and with rain to blanket his tracks, and wash away any flames... Nevertheless, he needed to move quickly. He went from street to street, pace hastening to each drop before the entire storm started falling with full, descending rain. Each "pitter-patter" had him hasten with each drop, until light... then heavy showers became a hindrance over the soon to be drenched fox... as he made one more turn down a familiar pathway where he belonged. Once he had made it to Adumbral Street, he immediately walked up the stairs to his home, frantically scouring through one of the pockets of his messenger bag in an uninterrupted haste. The soaked, white fox was anxious; riddled against his demeanor, and clear along the movements of his lithe, yet toned build. It was then that he would finally grab, and slot the key in carefully, unlocking the door and stepping inside with peeks along the very walls of the well-built dwelling. ...No one was home yet, like he expected. His parents, who both worked at the same place, would probably hear the news sooner or later, he thought. As a result, he expected to get a call on his cell phone at any moment... but first he would run upstairs to deal with the main reason why he had come here so quickly, all this time. As he opened the door to his room, it was this creature... it was this vessel that aroused his curiosity, furthered his will to live; enraptured his senses, and clung to his mind. As Marqes sped through the door with idle pants, he went immediately to his chair and desk to put the messenger bag down, going through its pockets to eventually stumble upon this... thing. And it was clearly not fiction. Rather, this tiny dragon creature that crawled out of his bag's pocket upon the unzipping walked, watched him... and proceeded to stumble weakly with idle cries and sounds which resembled that of a monstrous infant alone. "...What joy," Marqes exclaimed, albeit softly given that his house was empty, after all, "Something..." Marqes stretched his paws out to hold Polaris in his grasps, the white scaled dragon just squirming along, using its life force to do just that. For a time, it reminded Marqes of a worm... not a dragon. But he could see the growth along its wings, its radiant blue eyes fading... and for a time, he knew that it was weak. He needed something to feed the thing. A panic ensued along his body, and he wondered exactly what to feed a dragon; such a strange sight that even he didn't believe, despite having it right in front of him. His mind was already in a frenzy enough to not connect back to his own words. So, he first zipped Polaris back up and decided to go downstairs to get the safest bet— some water, and some bread crumbs with a couple larger pieces. A glass, and a plate provided nicely, and racing back up the stairs through thunder, Marqes went back into his room and this time, locked the door. He wouldn't be out again for a while, he thought. So the catering began towards the struggling, miniature dragon... hush words and light gestures like that to a delicate pet came from the white fox to the similarly pale draconic, Polaris. It was a calm, peaceful time between interactions, to which Polaris seemed more or less responsive to the treatment, bit by bit. ...That was when something unexpected happened, that made Marqes' vulpine ears raise, and his posture stand upright. A knock on the door sounded, and echoed up the stairs towards him through the sweeping of rain against the roof, and the abrupt occasional thunder. He would ignore it at first, choosing to stand in place like a statue, rather than do much of anything... until that doorbell he considered "corny" would ring once, then twice... and repeatedly. Over, and over again. Polaris stuck his head up, trying to make out the sound whilst Marqes gritted his teeth, wondering just what exactly would be going on.

Chapter Nine

"Comedy"

An attempted watch through the front door's top window. A peep, trying to be furtive. And another... And another. With the rain splattered across, he could hardly see a thing... just a blurred figure of black proportions. "I know you're there, *Marqes*." The male voice from behind the door said with confidence. He couldn't tell if this person was an adult, or around his age... but if Marqes had to guess, he would have put his money on somewhere regarding the latter. Their tone was deep enough to be an adult... but it was, strange, to him. Incomprehensible to tell for sure. A reluctant, slow opening of the door left a still-brushed silence painted upon the white fox's frame. "Life is a comedy, isn't it?" The male said, in revelation. Blue eyes met Marqes' own under a darkened frame of another, yet slightly bigger and apparently more toned fox. He wore a black hoodie, camouflaging with his own fur, in which its hood remained off enough for him to cock his head to the left, and open those brighter blues larger, and with intimidating stare. "You must be scared... aren't you," The black fox chuckled, as Marqes simply looked on, still wanting to grab and close the door in his head. Then, as the male cautiously looked around the house where he could, he stepped and pushed himself inside before leaning close to Marqes' ear. "I know what you did," He chuckled, then burst out into an abrupt sense of laughter before continuing to walk inside. "W-who are you?!" Marqes shouted, making a dash forward to the male until he was met with a brute jab to the maw, enough to send him stammering back into the door with a stark thud. Marqes could then feel a salty red edge along the cusps of his mouth from his nose, wanting to enter inside as he was forced to lick along his maw, still curled up and growling in anger. "...Guess we're both bad, huh." The stranger spoke, "I mean, I didn't expect that blow to kill my best friend, but..." "B-best... friend?" Marqes asked, eyes raised with a newly, pissed snarl, "I don't even know you—" "I beg to differ," He retorted, the smirk once present vanishing with haste to form a serious look, "We have met... so, so many times before." Marqes' expression became confused, to which the black fox only sighed. "Very well, let me explain— my name is... Serpris Serpico. I attend your school, Novus High, but since I'm a grade higher than you, you probably have never noticed me before— until now." "Yeah, no kidding." Marqes growled in response. "Ooh, that's new—" Serpris chuckled, "You normally..." "I normally *what*?" Marqes heart skip a beat, and they both stood in silence for a while... until Serpris laughed. "Close the door, we don't have much time." The black fox said, as he began walking his way upstairs; Marqes did, and quickly followed after him. "You shouldn't be doing tha—" "I don't care if you started the fire," Serpris stated, with a sigh along his unceasing steps, "Or took a dragon under your wing, funnily enough." Chuckling more, he forced the door open to Marqes room with ease, and proceeded to step inside. "No wait, don't—..." Marqes then raised his eyebrows, and exhaled, "W-what?!" A million thoughts ran through his head, all at once, fighting for the spotlight of which to focus upon. The major one being him letting an absolute stranger into his parents' dwelling, but then... how did he know all of this with such certainty? This person... did not make himself out as anyone ordinary... Marqes knew that for sure. But as he was about to ask more, Polaris looked up at the two of them only to be met by a shadowy room through the windows, cast down upon the entire area; the immense shaking of the ground below, rippling through with the booming coming from along the sky. "Brace yourself," Serpris warned, glancing back at Marqes with a malevolent smirk, before looking out at the eclipsing sun amongst the clouds. "It has begun once more."

Chapter Ten

What was, and always will be

"What is going on?!" Marqes grimaced, to which there was a slight pause in the air. The ground continued to rumble; a shaking mess whilst the sunlight beaming along the windowsill still held dim, and practically non-existent. "For what I'm about to tell you... you're going to have to take this with an open heart," Serpris Serpico detailed, "An open mind, unclouded by most judgment." The white fox's eyes, already widened, rose further as he watched Serpico as if he was mad. "Listen, I—" "Don't know who I am or if I'm causing this." A faint smile appeared on Serpico's face, but it looked pained along the mostly hidden, opposite side. "Yes, I'm very well aware of what you're going to say, Marqes." "What?" Marqes inquired, wishing to object. "I suppose once again, you could call me a time traveler, so to speak... but it's far more complicated than that." Then, he motioned over to Marqes and put a paw along his maw, almost like hushing a toddler. "Remember what I said," Serpico winked... to which Marqes simply growled and stepped away. A laugh was emitted from the black fox's grinning face... and then, the earthquake stopped... yet the sun remained eclipsed. "Ahh, it lasted shorter this time...? No, maybe it's just my imagination." Serpris said, shaking his head before moving on. "What do you fucking mean— you enter into my house and call yourself a fucking time traveler?" Marqes said, before Serpris quickly rebutted. "If you'd only just *listen*, this whole conversation can be over before your parents come home, and then... I'd be out of your fur entirely." He stated, sounding as if he said such with utmost certainty, despite a bit of annoyance clearly present within his tone. Marqes growled, but kept quiet like he was asked. "Good... now," Serpris pointed towards the window, overcast skies with windy rain blending in with the faint dregs of the sun's light already being covered by a dark shadow. "That... is not what you think it is, for starters." The white fox raised a brow, but Serpris calmly continued. "Each eclipse you see signals the furthered ruin of this world... like a doomsday clock, assigned to the heavens." He breathes, "There's something that happens in Imagia two months from now that is actually so profoundly insane that no one would even consider it for a second— no one would guess..." As Polaris looked over at the two of them, talking back and forth... Marqes finally used the opportunity to close the room's door behind them, releasing that they might have been here for a while. "Go on... stranger." "Oh don't worry, I will." Serpico chuckles, "I play with time; you play with reality, which is made up of time. We both play with time, ultimately then." Then, Serpris tilts his head over to the tiny dragon on the ground, letting his eyes' gaze rest on him for a while, only to release it thereafter. Marqes' heart skip a beat, as in some incomprehensible way inside of his psyche, he was slowly beginning to understand what this black fox was saying, as he looks over to Polaris with a newfound sense of paranoia. "So yes, you *do* in fact have powers... involuntary manifestation, actually." Serpris chuckles, "An extremely high level... and this here dragon you made is only when your powers had peaked, and as you told me... through one stressful, really bad day when you burned the whole school down." "W-whole?" Marqes objected, "But it can't be all gone, right?" Serpris sighed, then merely laughed, "An *exaggeration*, my dear friend." Then, he shook his head, as if in disgust and annoyance, pacing slightly back and forth. "Well, all this mad talk sounds fine and dandy, but you still haven't explained any of what you are, yet." Marqes stated, "What are *your* powers?" "Hmm," Serpris chuckled, "And here I thought you were going to think that I first travelled through a time machine, of all things." The male laughed, while the other simply frowned and growled. "You haven't been in this reality before, have you?" Marqes said, "You're acting all nervous... if you were so sure of everything, wouldn't you be so much calmer right now, with that smug shitty grin on your face?" Then, the black fox paused in his pacing, circling steps, eyes widening as he turned to face towards him, "I..." Serpris growled, "Fine then, you're correct— but you've never pointed that out before." Then, he simply laughs, "To be honest, all of this time stuff has gotten to my head all the... time." He laughs some more, "But I would be willing to tell you at least some things... as briefly as possible." Marqes raised a brow again, confused yet curious to listen, and settled with what he had to say. "For one, I too had a peak moment where I would only just realize my ability to 'time travel', as one might say... but it was never that simple, like in the movies." Serpris continues, "When going to that very same school you decided to burn down, Novus High... and even before then, I was always afraid of making mistakes, thanks to the parental background I was born into— something strict, something that I couldn't control." "Everything out of my control was always something that I hated... I would do perfect in most of those silly tests, which, from my perspective now, mean practically nothing." Serpris looks at him, blue eyes intensifying upon blue eyes reflectively, "So, once upon a time, I had reached the point of taking a Geography exam that I knew I was going to fail— not because I didn't study, but because the same teacher of the past, Miss Rolinsky, would give these *stupid* questions that would never have anything to do with *anything* we've learned." While Serpris hissed on the occasion, Marqes' eyes and mouth opened a bit with an almost amused sense of awe, intrigued yet dumbfounded; a little, comedic curl of a smile appearing along the white fox's face. "The most stressful point for me was while I was in that exam room, forced to only watch as the braindead students fumbled about with their pencils; the same as I would, while knowing that if I failed not once, but twice... my father was more than likely going to *punish* me, and my mother would give no care towards doing the same, in her own way. I could see myself in my mind leaving the exam room like a sorry mess of a fool, with no one to even reach out to, because no one would care— rather, they all might have suffered the same fate." Serpris showed his teeth in the form of a grimace, baring his fangs out in a nonchalant manner, perhaps to prove a point. Momentarily, he unclenched his teeth, and blew air out from his maw, which turned into a shrill-sounded whistle at the last second. And after, Serpris Serpico was left grinning from ear-to-ear once more, in devilish fashion. "It was too easy!" He chuckled crazily, "After that... it just— it just happened! *Snap*!" "*What*?" Marqes interrupted, and Serpico flared up. "*You idiot*— my *conscious self*, it had vanished!" He explained, "I had only realized that when I was literally back home, the very night before the exam, sitting in my room with my body just reaching to lay atop the bed... it *blows* my mind— even after telling you the same fucking story so many times..." "And it still takes you forever to understand it!" Serpico hissed, then let go a sigh of relief. "I suppose most things never change... but here we are, right, *Marqes*?" Polaris began stumbling around just as they were speaking, to which Marqes soon picked up upon out of the corner of his eyes, "Ahh— ah!" Motioning over as quickly as he could, he decided to put the dragon back into the bag's pocket, zipping it up for the time being, but leaving a space for air. "...Okay, so you had a 'bad day' like me, something that triggered your... whatever," Marqes sighed himself with a light snarl, "Look, you're even lucky that I'm willing to indulge you in this discussion, while the majority of people in our grade level wouldn't give a shit as to what you have to say." "But now, you have an incentive." He said, and then Marqes realized that he was indeed talking about Polaris. "I suppose so..." Thunder boomed, echoing across the sky and against the walls. "It may take too long to ask of you if you properly understand all of this— but yes, you were correct." Serpris stated, "Using my ability, I have never met you like this before... hence, I have taken a very *big* risk of doing so— but for hopefully good measure later on." "With this power, I have been able to understand its intricacies, realize that it needs *stress* to be its catalyst, and switch back and forth only through different periods where I know what has occurred in the past... where I possess my body there, and continue on as normal. Of course, some questions still arise like, 'what happened to my other self before I shifted consciousness', but... quite frankly, I try not to care, and focus solely on myself." Marqes takes a while to ponder this all inside of his brain... until his thoughts spark up, and he realizes something just as Serpris was about to speak, with chuckling gesture. "So yes, *naturally*, I cheated." Serpris laughed, "But... that's really not what's stopping me." "Well, clearly... since you don't seem like the type to come to others for help." Serpris rolled his eyes, before further explaining, "The power comes with a very stupid limitation, where I cannot travel into the future— which is most likely because it is only the *past* that I am aware of." The black fox scowls, to which Marqes' eyes begin to light up with understanding, "So the very incident that happens months later to what seems like the entirety of the world, and Imagia itself... I cannot skip past that." "There is a war that happens between two parties... b-but... something else," Serpris explains, "Each time reality seems to be so fucked at that point, where the entire thing becomes so... so bizarre, is where my 'fight-or-flight' response happens... and when that happens, I... I—" "...You go back to a point before any of the 'present' ever happened." Marqes says, to which Serpris nods. "Yes... that's exactly correct." He raises his lowered gaze back to Marqes' still slightly puzzled, yet seemingly understanding expression; a paradox in itself. "Yes... you really do seem to understand, which is actually... much better than your previous iterations, that I would have only talked to either in the hallways, or after class when you're still pondering whatever you do in the classroom." "I, uh—" Marqes objected, then sighed. "Umm... yeah, I suppose that does sound like me. I just... I just can't believe you're supposedly telling the truth." "But since you have a flying dragon now... then I suppose you can stand to reason." Serpris chuckled, reminding him and leaving Marqes' eyes to widen once more. "W-wait, Polaris can fly?" He asked, to which Serpris then growled and placed the back of his paw along the side of his forehead, shaking his head entirely. "I've probably said too much already... but strangely enough, it doesn't affect the outcome of the future all that, sometimes." Serpris sighed, "I ask you to help me because I realize that some of these events appear to fit together, like puzzle pieces... the dreadful day that happens, as well as the eclipse happening with the same timing as you realizing you can summon things up with your subconscious mind." "I-Is it only subconscious? I mean..." "Look, I'm not going to help you discover anything that you don't need to know right now." Serpris tells him, "I've only entertained this entire conversation with you time and time again... albeit with slight variations here and there, for you to get a general gist of what's going to happen, and for you to be on my side again when the time comes, like you always are." "...Me?" Marqes jeered with a brief laugh, "Working with you?" "...Is that so funny?" Serpris hissed, only causing Marqes to laugh some more. "God, you're annoying..." Serpris spoke, with a slight smirk appearing on his face, "You don't know how stressful this entire ordeal has been for me, from the start... it's helped, but now I realize I'm stuck with having to seek out help for an event that covers the entire world, that I can't even go past from, can't hide... realizing that I'm dealt with an inevitability where I can only try seeking out help from the likes of *you*— the entire thing is *god-awful*, truly." Marqes eventually stops laughing, and mentally notes this, "...Then you really must be desperate, if you can't stand my guts." Then, Serpris sighed, realizing that a bit of light had begun entering into the room as he turned, "Of course not... I told you, we're *best friends*." Marqes too, looked out the window, and realized what he was staring at. "The eclipse is lifting," The black fox stated, "You told me that when it does is about the time your parents show up, and the 'entire day goes on from there', so you said." Seeing Serpris begin to pull over his hoodie, Marqes reached out and over with his paw in interjection, "W-wait, you're just leaving? After *all* of this fucking information?!" "Of course," Serpris snickered, with a clever smirk. "I'm not going to talk to you on a fucking cell phone or anything like that; I've already seen the effects of what *that* can cause." The black fox said, as he rushed over to the window; staying there before eventually shifting across with the casual wave of his paw, "Talk to you soon—" The dark-furred male cackled... and as he did, jumped from the two-story height with elegance. Before Marqes could even glance out to see where he had landed in the still frantic, ongoing tempest, Serpris had vanished. And so... the eclipse was gradually lifting along the surreally dim clouds— gaining some form of visible, revealing brightness past their otherwise gray, gloomy appearance that kept with the storm; white lightning sent flashing across Marqes' perceivable vision, almost blinding him in the process as he looked away.

Chapter Ten.Five

The Dream of Restless Sorrow

Nocturne sky fills the hopeless, timeless hour. It appears abyssal, unnaturally black with hue which drains all life from festering color within. A forest of sorts, smothered in thick layers of darkness like raven fog. From the air, he could see a large, purely skeletal bird with spiders aligned within its bony wings. The webs cover up a multitude of many more different spiders, with each their own eggs dispersing with young hatchlings covering the earth while the bird motions forward before disappearing along thick bushets near shadowed trees. Savannah scuttles around. He looks confused. The area picks up on this confusion. Enter. "This is death's door," A beast appearing before him in black shroud follows his footstep to and fro, while a snake coils idly in the distance. "You are welcome to remain here, if you like." Savannah notices, but he does not stir. The dream plays him on, like puppet, and he does not seem to mind when taken by this drunken dream trance. "Puppet for play," The voice reminds him, as the beast vanishes before his very eyes. There, he looks around, but is stirred by a light coming from the dim, ethereal sky. It is false, for what descends down is an entity cloaked in the bleakest "coloure", ebbed with the embedding of a still afternoon, yet stagnant and sick. That afternoon has turned to night, and this night is respondent in all its glory for it does not wink, nor tell a lie. As the light fades at once, and it lands before the creature known as Savannah Rose. The beast's body is covered with worms both white and its invert, the only pale thing there amidst the other bright furred. "You will die here," It admits, and as it does, it transforms into the beast again, and laughs from all now three sides of its mouth, two along chest and one along maw. Savannah is frightened, as he takes a few steps back in shock along his face. "You will die here... just like everything else. Just like the wind will blow, it is certain." The beast looks up, as its dichotomy of worms continue to squirm amidst rotten flesh and bony frame. "Like whole, it was partially your fault." It points, with writhing 'paw', "You did not die when you were conceived. You remained strong, like an infant that breathes this stifled air. You lived to tell your tale. And so, this is what you get for your strength." It turns, and reveals a screen like smoke in front of them, covered in layers of blood dripping down from said smoke with mixtures of color like infected maggot mucus, green-yellow along its edges that gives the floating, upright rectangular screen its shape. "This is what you wanted." It shows war. "Each of your comrades will die, one by one, after your having known them. Related to them. Your joyous moments, belittled to nothing. It was nothing, as you are now, and always will be a dust in the wind; sweeping away back into the endless nothingness which you call destiny. Life, fate." "...I—" "And even if you die, your world will come to an end. Your world." It somehow cracks a twisted smile around the edges of a skeletal frame, with little a membrane to go around past rotting, dirt red threads barely grasping its comical tightness in longing of desperate relief. "My world will remain. *Always*." The beast cackles from all three sides, "And because my world will remain, yours will too." It laughs, and laughs, as Savannah continues to back away but is caught by vines along the back. "THIS IS DEATH'S DOOR." It says, "THIS IS THE DREAM OF RESTLESS SORROW. THIS IS YOUR LIFE. THIS IS LIFE. YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE THIS." It continues to laugh, sickly so with rasp as if coughing up its self-exasperated "lungs" in the process. "I-I never wanted this!" Savannah explains, with slight tears filling his eyes as the vines pull, and drag him into the ground. "YOU LIE." It points again, with bony finger, "YOU LIE, FOR WHICH YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED FOR IT. THIS DWELLING HAS NOT BEEN MERRY, AND WHERE YOUR DEFENSES HAVE LINGERED, YOUR MIND WILL ROT JUST LIKE MINE TO THE INEVITABLE NATURE THAT IS TIME." Savannah's eyes widen as he continues to struggle against the vines. "EVEN IF THIS WAS NOT YOUR PREDICAMENT, EVERYTHING WILL STOP. EVERYTHING YOU KNOW AND LOVE WILL DIE. YOUR CARE IS UNJUSTIFIED BY TRUTH, BELITTLED BY ANGER, FORGED IN FEAR AND GROWS IN IT STILL." Savannah disappears under the vines, and raises a weakened paw. "GOODBYE, SAVANNAH ROSE." It cackles, "IT WAS FUN WHILE IT LASTED." Surrounded in vines and suffocating, when he died he knew nothing. Bloodied by the thorns all over, the cycle repeats itself wherein in his death he lived, and his part became renewed. We became the wind, and the world wept for it.

Chapter Eleven

Mystery Manor

What was left in ethereal darkness was forgotten, while thicker material etchings remained like webbing along numerous matrices. Insanity awoke the next morning to a familiar, dark apartment, interrupting whatever dreams he was having. Then, he fell asleep again, went to the bathroom, then fell asleep once more after crawling back into bed. Henceforth, a knock on the door sounded as the white covers projected onto his body slugged off with the sudden noise, jolting him alert as he pushed himself upright. The fox-feline's brown eyes were surprised, dreary, and anxious all at once in wondering who would have been present at the door. The knock was clearly hard enough to wake him from his slumber... but it did not happen again. There was no more sound, besides the quiet hum of electronics against Savannah's twitching ears. From the source of nothingness in which all thoughts came, new ones created from the spark of influence drifted their way along his consciousness, laying stagnant in their invisible 'form'. So, 'what was it— who was it— what did they want— maybe it was the wrong person, maybe it was the wrong door—' and it grew on and on until he could no longer resist the call to answers. Getting up out of the warmly kept bed and walking over, he stood on his hinds to first peer through the peephole atop the front door. And as such, there was no one. All he could make out from the fisheye lens attached was something strange and purple being left at the bottom. With a pause, he pondered. Then quickly, he opened the door and swiped at the object as fast as he could, shutting the thing fast behind him as he turned. It was dark blue, and it was a letter. Savannah's heart skipped a beat; onto many. Indeed, it was another colored letter, with the first being the one that started this whole thing. The unbaring of the world's truth to his psyche, like uncovered fangs that tore through anything it could get its grips on. "I can't even..." He said, beginning to pace back and forth in nervous temperament, "I don't even..." A few other words came muttered under his breath, verbal with sense of lingering panic until he would finally quit threading his slightly unsheathed claws along the carpet of the one-room dwelling, and take the thing... sitting atop his bed as he opened it with unceremonious, rugged approach. Tearing through, he did it skillfully enough as to not damage the contents inside, albeit with a bit of luck given the sharpness of his claw tips. Inside laid a fancy, amber yellow piece of paper almost resembling that of parchment design— or at least something modern to mimic its form. Neatly folded and laced with intricate, ruby string in closing, he would take the same approach as to the letter instead of attempting to untie it, and open it up before him along the bed. "To the honorable Mr. Douglas Aiszer, This letter cordially invites you to participate in the Mystery Manor's fifth annual celebration party. We regretfully state, however, that the occasion represents the final celebratory party for a significant period of time due to matters of preservation and other affairs. Despite these circumstances, we are delighted to welcome you! The party will provide large banquets, guest appearances and an abundance of important individuals. Free entry shall be included. Be sure to bring your costume as well. This will truly be a wonderful night! Kindest regards, Sir Majeus Wallow Owner of Mystery Manor" And just below it, "Hello again, Savannah. Consider this a peace offering, given our previous circumstances, as I believe we had gotten off on the wrong foot. I would like you to take this invite and go along with it in my stead. I do hope you can forgive me for all the wrongs I may have committed against you. All has already been revealed to you, except a few more crucial details. That, I am aware of. All truth will be revealed to you, in time. From whence I am sending you this, it will be today. You also do not need a costume, just bring yourself as you are, that's perfectly fine. For now, please take this as a token of my gratitude for keeping your curiosity intact. I have told someone there to meet up with you already. Do not delay. Thank you, once again. Douglas." Savannah was utterly perplexed. Never in his life had he been invited to something that appeared so formal— and never in his life had it been given to him by someone he so clearly loathed in stark hatred. The thoughts that pertained to him as to what a place like this would be like did not come cheap. It came with the cost of many emotions, and the need for further research. He finds himself going up to and sitting along a wooden desk chair and table holding a monitor, ready to figure out what this was... and more importantly, *where* it was. In bitter hindsight, he realized that he should not have ripped up the envelope before even taking a glimpse of the finer details regarding sender. But hindsight was always just that— typically steeped in unchanged past. "5609 Oakwood Road Imagia 93741" Upon the internet, there were only good news regarding the festivities there. Strangely enough, these were all written by other sources, and Savannah would quickly realize that there was no official site for the manor itself. "Quite the mystery after all..." He thought, aloud. Letting a deep breath in and exhale slip by, he weighed having not gone deeply on his mind. It was a very welcome decision, with seemingly no stakes around it. But then what would transpire in the future? The idea of something, rather, somehow became more loved than the idea of nothing. A bias hidden deep within the subconscious waiting to rear its ugly, chalky pale head at any unforeseen moment. And so, he began to prepare for the time he had found— an 8PM sharp start time. ...And it was a bit hard. The fox-feline wasn't sure what he would wear at all. He had nothing *that* formal which emphasized state of status, nor any intricacies associated with that. The best he could do reasonably was attempt to neaten himself, whereby if the comb fought back, he would have to fight back even harder. And it was very much of a battle and struggle between wits like any other. At 5, he went by the table to check his phone and see what a monstrosity time was. He had showered, dried off, eaten leftovers; his fur was groomed... acceptably so, and perhaps he could wear nothing and show up just fine, Savannah thought. He would prepare transport before exiting his apartment complex, and the location would be slightly far off from where he resided. At 6, his driver would arrive in a silver "Matsuhiru", and he would be off. Casual conversation aside, the trip there was actually uneventful enough as it was. The driver, who was but a tiger in black suit and red tie, was rather gruff and brief in his wording, yet kept a civil manner to his tone. Savannah too figured that there was not really much to say past the common *"Hello"s* and *"How are you"s* shared between the two as the information had already been relayed to him on the phone prior. These types of cars were already outfitted with a different kind of technology, leading to the development of special vehicles that cater towards the specific physiology of the four-legged compared to those such as primates and other mammals which could operate in less exaggerated conditions. Thus, these cars were outfitted with elongated pedals that allowed the driver to reach them more easily whilst sitting upright, allowing for much easier use for traversal that actually became feasible. The name was under UT, short for Universal Transportation. To his surprise however, the silence became abruptly ceased while the fox-feline peered through the window, glancing towards the familiar, deep sound. "So... what made you want to go to this place anyway?" The driver asks, glancing over to his phone on the dashboard-mount with GPS while casually adjusting it to meet his gaze. "Mystery Manor, Oakwood... sounds pretty stuck-up to me if it's there." "You know the street?" Savannah asked him, "You know of the place there?" "Of course I do," The tiger hisses, "But you don't really seem dressed for the occasion, so I'm asking." "Oh... uhh— I didn't really have anything to wear that would have been appropriate, I think." He explains, "...But how do you—" "But still, you could have worn *something*, even if it was just a shirt or loose clothing, *anything really*." Savannah looks slightly petrified. At the time, he didn't really factor in what a big deal it might have been for some reason or another. Perhaps it was his inexperience that had slighted him once more. But then... he remembered. "Honestly, what's it to you though?" Savannah retorted, "The person that I received the invite from did say I didn't have to be in anything— that I could have been as I am." There was a notable pause in the vehicle that only left the rumble of the engine and wheels against the road to settle as they drove across the large, red old Etah Bridge, a bridge Savannah had only seen once close-up in another drive with someone else. "They probably lied to ya, kid." The tiger explains, turning his head slightly to look at Savannah with a small sneer before returning to the wheel. "And if so, you're quite gullible— or they're old-fashioned. Mystery Manor *only* allows for costumes nowadays." "And again, I ask... how do *you* know?" "Because for heaven's sakes, I was affiliated with 'em." He explains, while stepping a bit harder on the gas. "I was a head organizer there, funny how things work out... until the third opening two years ago when one of my associates just royally pissed me off to high shit— don't ask how." Another pause, as Savannah's ear flickers and listens on with a calm, yet vaguely disturbed aura. "Anyway, the point is that you shouldn't really trust anyone there, and you should have definitely brought a costume because now you're probably gonna be made fun of for not having one out of the wider population that does." Savannah's heart sank a little. "The entire place there is hoity toity anyway, where the rich get to indulge in their pleasures for a while just because they have nothing else to do for the year. But I'd wager the reason they're shutting it down for a time is because they got so bored of doing the same thing over and over that they're desperately trying to mix things up a little." He tilts his head, "Well... that and they have to maybe lay low for a bit after the public may be on to what they're *actually* doing for once in their lifetime." "What are... what are they doing then that's so bad?" The striped beast chuckles, "Drug smuggling, sex trafficking, the whole works, really. Everything under the sun— where the only mystery is why they haven't been caught for so long... although with paying off Imagia's law enforcement that quite frankly doesn't do jack shit to begin with, I can surely see why." In awe at what he was hearing, Savannah wondered if the right decision would have genuinely been to turn back. But with about 15 miles or so away from the location, he wagered that he didn't really have a choice in the matter. It was possible, but what was really right? "It's always a smooth drive there though, not gonna lie..." The driver unwinds the nearest window, and spits out before pulling it back up. "What a world we live in, huh?" Upon reaching Oakwood Road, it appeared to be that of a fairly forested area. Almost immediately along said road, the building in question was not that hard to miss whatsoever. A ghastly grey manor that looked more akin to the size of a mansion of some black and white proportions with both white and clear cloth swaying along its design and bright, yellow lights illuminating an otherwise gated community. In fact, the entire gated portion *was* of the mansion's design, and nothing without. It covered a wide perimeter of the street after only a very few houses. The bright yellow lights moved up and down the exterior in dazzling fashion, from all angles with a couple of whites found leading up to it. "I should be able to park right at the front... and from there, you're free to go." The driver said. "...I'm not even sure if I want to be here anymore." "So then why did you come here? To waste everyone's time, including your own?" "..." "...Well?" The tiger spoke, before sighing. The car remains silent, a pindrop able to be heard if fallen. "Look, I'm not trying to—" "It's fine." Savannah states, bluntly. "Just go ahead and park, and I'll be on my way." "You sure?" The fox-feline nods, "Yes, absolutely." "...Well, alright—" So the driver does just that, pulling up to the large, pure black gate and parking slightly farther up to it. "Last chance—" Savannah opens the door at once, stepping out into the dark, hushed night and vaguely slamming the car door. He steps over briskly to the gate, and notices a black box with a glass which appears to have a semi-circular lens inside. A camera. But a large one at that, he thought, as he watched it closely. "Hm," Savannah notes, and then just simply sighs as he walks closer up, and right in front of the gate. He waits for a while... and then he turns his head to realize that the driver had not driven off yet. As soon as he begins to shake his head, the gate opens and catches him by surprise, leaving him to widen his brown orbs only to be met with the wide yard in front of him, and him in turn beginning to walk inside. Through his gait, there's a visible slope that he can feel beneath his paws, as his ears flicker to the sound of an almost generic party music... but then appears to shift to something classical that he can't quite seem to make out. It appears that the main, two big brown doors to the manor had been shut. Savannah glances, and realizes that along his path, there would be a side entrance farther up. He makes his way there up the driveway, and... "...And who might you be?" The person at the open entrance asks him, a male white fox, dressed in a Christmas-colored red and white bowtie and black, peculiar tophat. He holds a clipboard in his paws, and extends a raised, greyish eyebrow while gazing at Savannah. White tiles below align otherwise white walls. Savannah could barely make people out from the opening and the fox between blocking, but it was still somewhat visible. "I'm Savannah," He answers, coolly, to which he then passes him the letter. "Douglas Aiszer invited me to come here instead of him as he was... busy." The fox takes the letter, receiving it as he keeps the same look about him while opening and reading its contents swiftly, "...Oh." "I'm afraid this isn't going to work..." He explains, shaking his head with a slightly coy smile. "...And why is that?" Savannah asks, in a slightly annoyed tone. The fox's glittering, light hazel orbs light up as he laughs with enthusiasm, "Mystery Manor doesn't accept persons coming in the stead of others— that simply *would not work*. Besides, you don't look dressed at all in the least bit for the occasion, so *why* are you even here?" Savannah grimaces, as the male's eyebrows continue to raise until he begins to sputter something out, "...I-I—" "Who is this?" A voice calls out from the back, until a larger figure carefully approaches the two with bits of grey and white amongst his fur palette. The male appears feline, but not quite as much of a feline as Savannah would have expected. His fangs more resemble a saber-tooth alignment at the front, his body bulky with the topmosts and mid-section of his body covered by a primarily black and red tuxedo. He looked prehistoric, almost like no other species Savannah had seen within modern times... and it perplexed him the more he gazed. They all look at each other, yet the newly approached takes a firm gaze down at Savannah, the red eyed stare of his abundantly apparent. "I, err... I'm Savannah Rose." "This," The male explains to the other, "This is the one I've been told about. He's *supposed* to be here." "What?!" The fox shouts out, which leaves the feline to grunt in response, "I mean, my apologies Lord Kristopher... but with all due respect, we can't just let someone like *him* in here in place of another. He didn't even come with an outfit!" "Perhaps he just didn't know," The feline turns and bends his head down to look at the fox, "Is there something wrong with that? He's important to us, and to me... so I'm sure you could look past this little... error." The stare is crippling, completely devoid of any form of mercy. "AA...ahaha— of course!" He confirms, laughing it off before glaring at Savannah, "I'm sure we can find a spare outfit for you somewhere, then... you'd still have to wear something before you come in here, those *are* the rules." "Sure, I don't mind." Savannah smiles, then looks up to Kristopher who still seems to be staring at him studiously, with visibly scanning pupils. "After you're done, come find me at once." He orders, before simply walking off. Savannah stares after that bulky figure as he leaves, then disappears into the rest of the crowd subsequently past that area he can still barely see. "...Please wait right here, just one moment." The vulpine says, stepping back inside and leaving the door frame wide open. During the time, Savannah almost feels like peeking his head in, but feels dissuaded by the idea for now. He tenses, and untenses, and waits. He can see a bit more, but it just looks like people. The fox comes back with various fabrics locked within his jaws and in his paws, then leads Savannah outside. "I can't believe I'm going to have to do this... *baby* you into putting on an outfit." "You're not baby-ing me." Savannah hissed in retort, as he pushes into the clothing. "Right... *how old are you*, again?" "Forget it," He growls, "Please, just kindly hurry it up..." "Mm," The fox chuckles, as he fixes something atop his head. "It's your funeral." A bit of time passes before the staff there is finished adjusting things. "Alright... I think this will do." He says, putting on and fixing the finishing touches along a fancy, white and black cover along Savannah's mane in an almost, where the black resembles thorns jutting out below within each corner. "Right as rain... you actually look somewhat presentable, now." "I always did," Savannah hissed, and moved about away from the male. Savannah remains lost in thought, thinking more-so of what the strange, large feline that walked up to him said while he approached the door; the one that had just saved him a great deal of hassle. "...Wait just a moment!" The fox says from behind, to which Savannah almost immediately growls as he was just about to enter past the open, empty doorframe. "Didn't he say he wanted to see me immediately?" Savannah says, "You're keeping me back from whatever he wanted to talk to me about, so hurry it up." "...Err," He laughs it off, "...The area you're entering is just full of dignified, polished and powerful individuals in their fields— haha, s-so I don't really think it would be right for you to just go in and—" "Could you can it?!" Savannah shouted, hissing at the male as he turned around, with a lash of electric sparks drawn from his body and tail, almost hitting the fox dead in the face had he not backed away at the last moment. The staff appears petrified, in cold view of those white, pearly fangs that showed themselves out of a clearly frustrated anger. "He has powers?!" The male reacted, in his mind, to the idle surges of yellow lightning coursing along the edges of his spiked up fur. "I'm tired of you stupid so-called 'mature' adults telling me what I can or cannot do. Just because you're probably a bit older than me doesn't mean jack shit." Savannah turns, and suddenly heads inside without a moment's notice. "...I'll deal with the matter myself, so leave me be." That was enough to seemingly let the fox leave Savannah be for the time being to enter into the crowd of partygoers, some drinking and some laughing while conversing with one another. The entire room was huge, the further he looks around the pristine, white walls with pillars of each corner of the squared out room, and the decor being placed along the walls providing exotic, rich colors that flair up the whole place amidst the pale, yellow lights emanating from the ceiling. The floor was covered in pink and pale mixed palette tiles that spanned the entirety of the room itself, with dazzling reflection amidst the lighting. "...This is him?" Another male, white cat that seems only slightly shorter than the other one comes out of the woodwork, along the side after Savannah made it out of the crowd. A red and black outfit, almost resembling that of a draculian design accompanies his vessel. He wears white, glittering earrings around his ears, that strangely resemble bats-ears more than anything remotely feline. He looks at Savannah dead in the eyes, his own bright cyan, piercing gaze staring down at his browns with a more-than-serious stare. "Seems like it," Kristopher says, returning. His largeness towers over all of them, while Savannah seems to be only slightly smaller than the one in front of him, examining him closely. "...Interesting." He tilts his head at Savannah, and then begins laughing. "This runt... this runt looks even weaker than Marro!" Savannah looks dismayed, as he wonders what they were even talking about to begin with. "Hm," Kristopher sighs, "Well yes, while that may be true... looks can be deceiving, and he still is a guest of honor as any." "Hah, so you're not even denying it!" He laughs some more, loudly and boisterously so, "This is *great*! We should have them fight each other the moment he gets back; the battle of the runts!" As he continues hollering, Kristopher seems to get a bit irked, especially as people begin to notice nearby. "Sadena," He warns, "I would not have you defile our family name in a place such as this one so quickly, and so unbelievably early." After a bit, upon hearing this, he seems to gradually quiet down... only to be met with a glaring Savannah. "...Woo! Sorry... but hey, if you wanted to fight me instead, be my guest." Sadena grins widely, "I can see the way you're looking at me, runt. You got something to say?" "...You're just another pest I had to deal with all-day to get here, it wouldn't be too hard to deal with you either, I'm sure." Savannah hisses. Sadena's grin freezes for a moment, before he just recoils into more laughter, "The mouth on this one!" He shouts, continuing to holler, "*Kristopher*! Does he even know who we are?!" "...It would appear not," The saber-toothed feline says, "Although it would not be your fault, young Savannah. ...Truthfully, we are not well known, amongst these lands." "...What do you mean by—" "...Hey." A lighter, male voice speaks, from out of the blue. Savannah turns, feeling a bit of a chill brush up and along his spine from... something behind him. As he turns, he notices just who that voice came from... as well as someone else. The male, around Savannah's height, but smaller in terms of his length appears in a fancied, white suit. His eyes resemble a blue hazel, immediately striking in the depth of coloration in an almost glowing manner. It was not until then however that he turns his head, and his expression changes to appear even more surprised than before. A white-furred female is amongst the three other whites, with eyes as red as Kristopher's, if not even more radiant and exuberant with its deep red than his own. A blood red, to be sure, lights up her otherwise chilled gaze and placid expression. Savannah could not quite place it, within that moment, but as he saw her, everything else in the room soon faded into an empty shallowness, like an abyss. He felt transfixed, not necessarily out of love, he felt, but of something else... like a magic charm, illuminated by what he felt to be a hot-cold aura... as if menacing, yet motherly at the same time. He froze, as what adorned her was a transculently clear, frilled dress that spoke volumes to her body and class alike. She was clearly the smallest of the bunch, only a tad bit smaller than the male next to her, but everything about her screamed a screeching perfection, that spoke volumes to her being and everything that engulfed her... instead of the other way around. A blush was forced upon his face, something that he wasn't sure if anyone else picked up upon... but it felt natural, and strangely right, to that degree. "...Sorry we took so long. On the way to the bathroom, Madea felt the need to stop at different booths, and well... I couldn't really stop her, of course." Savannah, despite looking directly at her, did not even realize her orbs had set upon him within the moment, as her quaint, little steps towards him made not but a single sound past a pitter-pattering, like soft, slow rain in conjunction with each paw. Expressionless, she gazed up at him like a little statue, while he remained frozen; his body a bit alarmed, almost as if in a cold sweat. "Move!" Savannah thought to himself, "Move, damn you!" "...Mmm," Madea purred, a lightly, delicate purr perhaps as weightless as her clothing, yet with roughly, emphasized undertones, especially near the end. "I like this one~" Savanah's blush deepened, harder than he ever had felt in most recent memory. Her sleek, pale tail was waving in the air behind her, hard for him not to stare... as he noticed a bridge at the top from where it had an upper level, only for it to continue downwards like a regular tail would. And from there, her body under that dress... In the back of his mind, he was thinking of how convenient he had it that he was turned away, away from the male that wanted to eat him up, and the other that wanted to save him, out of virtue or otherwise. The only one that could properly make out his expression was her, now smiling from ear-to-ear with a sultry, unmoving stare past her flickering, reflective red eyes. And of course, the male next to her, who simply looked confused, but in an "unsurprised" way, as if he wasn't shocked what was happening before him, but still wondered why it was happening anyway. The fox-feline then gulped, the hardest gulp he ever gave before chuckling nervously a little, "A-are you... heh... are you all siblings, or something?" "...Look who brightened up, in what looks to be five minutes." Sadena growled, as he walks over closer to Savannah, whose attention clearly seems to be elsewhere, "Yeah, no shit— wait... are you blushing?!" "N-no!" Savannah said, growling back at him as he turned. Meanwhile, Madea still seems transfixed on the male with a smirk, her eyes unwavering, even as the two looked like they were about to start a fight with one another. "...Enough." Kristopher states, slamming his paw down with a felt, and heard bluntness, even with all the music and conversing going around. "There is to be no fighting here. Douglas Aiszer has sent Savannah for a reason, and we must respect his wishes and his trust placed within us to carry this out." "...Ohh, so that's him." The smallest male amongst them, seemingly the one mentioned before as Marro, pipes up, "I thought he would have been... uh, a little *different!*." "We all did." Sadena snickers, before flicking his paw harshly against Savannah's nose in a flash, causing him to recoil a bit with a grunt. "Instead, we got someone who couldn't even see that coming." Kristopher uproars, which... was much farther than anyone could say a growl, and leaves the crowd to look over again, and the mix of classical music to momentarily halt from the reaper-dressed, serious-looking doberman DJ playing it in the back corner. "Leave him be, *now*." He orders, stepping up to Sadena as closely as he could without directly bumping into him, and breathing down his neck. "...You'd step this far to save a runt? Hah!" Sadena stares up at his brother, the contrasting blues and reds between their eyes holding bundles of emotions on their own, yet both almost of a killing intent, rather than just intimidation. "Fine then!" Sadena turns, and walks off into the party, "Don't say I didn't warn you!" He smirks, and soon disappears into the crowd as the music kicks back up again, and everything convincingly continues as normal. "...You, you saved me twice this day alone. I really owe you on—" "You can keep your thanks." Kristopher grunts, as he soon also begins to walk away. "I am only doing my duty, and nothing more." "...I- erm..." Savannah freezes again, with a paw left hanging in the air just as he was about to continue speaking, before lowering it once he realized Kristopher was already gone. "Hmm, tough crowd~" Marro snickers, "Didn't really expect that to happen... but I suppose it makes sense." "Marro," Madea speaks, tuning in, "Leave us, please." "...Really? Me too?!" "Yes," She says, with a smile, turning. "I have no need of your services anymore, and I certainly do not need you to carry me around, especially not with this one." Savannah just seems to look at the two of them, while Marro also watches at him, but Madea just seems locked on her brother, with a similar focus, but with a much more serious gaze past her smile. "...Very well, if you insist." Marro sighs, turning as he was about to leave in the same direction, but not before giving Savannah a dangerous, warning side-eye. "...Eep." Madea turns back to him, with a much richer smile that melts msot of his tension like butter, and leaves him again that one, slippery mess in front of her. "Shall we go now, up to the balcony?" She purrs, as her ears perk up a bit, starting with her right. "You can escort me upstairs, if you would like. Stay close to my side, with your warm pelt." "M-my wha—" Savannah blinks, taken aback for a moment before catching himself, "...I mean uhh, sure yeah! I don't mind!" He says, smiling back at her. "Good." Madea nods, and walks over to him, pressing her smaller flank up against his with a quaint feeling residing from it. The sudden action almost instantly and involuntarily causes Savannah to turn around, now facing the white, eloquent staircase to which the manor had leading up to the second floor. "Go ahead, lead me~" She chuckles, continuing to press her body up against his own. He couldn't feel much of her fur from the dress she was wearing, but her body was soft... yet her aura alone sent chills down his spine with each and every touch against him, and made his heart strangely... nervous. There was a sense of death, now looming in his mind from just being in contact with the girl, and continued to roam within his thoughts and being the closer up she came to him, and made her presence known. "...What... is she?" Savannah thinks in his head, as he watches her nuzzle up to him with her eyes closed. "What, aren't you cold? I can't stand the cold, the AC here is a bit much." "Nah, just a little... not too much." "Hm," Madea looks to lightly ponder for a moment, "You would fare better than me, in these conditions, then." Silence overtakes the two for a brief time as they continue to express their gaits across the short, semi-spiralling railed staircase. They go up the rows together, essentially arm-in-arm almost like a couple (except, as they were both feral, they just kept extremely close to each other, instead). As they near the second floor, Savannah is able to see four columns which lead directly to the outside balcony, another spiralling staircase in the distance up above, and the entire floor being... empty. "...Where's everyone else?" Savannah asks, in a fairly shocked tone. "Oh, this is like a V.I.P area, everything from up that first flight of stairs, and above." Madea explains, "Only the most important of importants are allowed up here, like myself. It is understood, like how the predator knows their relationship with the prey, and vice-versa. If someone were to come up here unannounced, all watchful eyes would suddenly be upon them, and without a moment to spare, they would be kicked out and embarrassed promptly, never to return again to the Manor. Or perhaps... never to be seen." "...Ahh." Savannah speaks, with a bit of a nervous chuckle on that last part as they soon head over to the balcony. The fox-feline spots the stars out, casting his view upon them for the time in a somewhat awe-filled expression before he feels the nuzzle of another press up against him, grasping his attention and keeping his eyes locked on her. "When Douglas told me who you were, he never did tell me you would be this handsome." Madea states, "It caught me by surprise, the whole thing." "Oh, really..." Savannah laughs a bit, looking away at those oppressive, almost hyponotic reds, before speaking more softly, "...What did he say, then?" "My apologies," Madea blurts out, "I believe we have not formally met... I am Madea Locksmith, and you are Savannah Rose. To answer your question, he has told me about you, but not much. I did not inquire farther, past a certain point." "...Oh, I see." Savannah says, then idly sniffs at the night air only to scent what he presumes to be her natural scent, resembling somewhat closely to her brothers, but much more light, and strangely addictive... like a pale, perfumed ash, similar to an intensive talc but far from as graceful, with a bit of sulfuric residue mixed in... and... a hint of something raw, like flesh? When he first smelled this, he figured that his nose was off... but they all had the same scent, almost overwhelming to him while they were grouped up, but now much lighter only in the presence of herself. He had never scented anything like it before in his life. Then, he remembered something Kristopher said. "...You're not from here, are you?" Savannah asked, at once. Madea's smile broke out into a grin, as he looked away from him for once and straight forward, staring out at the street. "...My my, how perceptive you are to figure that out all on your own. I wonder what gave it away." Savannah's mouth held in the fact that her brother had hinted at it earlier, and instead decided to say something else, "Your scent is just... really irregular to me, like no offense— but it really is just like... otherworldly, almost." "Hah!" Madea chortled, "Ooh, that's a good one... mm... funny you should say that...~" Savannah's eyes immediately widen at what she could be implying. "...You're an alien?!" "Pfft," Madea laughed some more, then stuck her tongue out at him, "What? No!" "Oh." "...Well, technically yes." Then, she continues to laugh, while Savannah looks to her in awe, wondering what the hell she meant. "Alien, mm, in the 'foreign' sense." She giggles, "But if I told you my story, I am sure you would not believe me." "...Ah, so Douglas really didn't tell you much, after all." Savannah chuckles, "I've seen a lot, thanks to him. Whether unfortunately or fortunately, but just all at once. Most of reality... past, present, future... but my brain just can't parse it, and has it all out into little pieces, rather than just one, collective whole like it should be." "Mm, but isn't that all our brains?" She ponders aloud lightly, with another giggle, "But anyway, sure, I'll share it with you, then." A short quietude is placed between the two, before she goes on. "Everything, no matter what, has a 'nature' to it. Nature is, in this case, the way in which things are carefully predisposed to through the act of the universe making them out to be that way, and that way entirely in their structuring." Savannah nods, yet secretly wonders what this has to do with her life story. "I come from a land far from here," She resumes, "A land— that was once very similar to your own, yet a lot more... old-fashioned, in nature— medieval, is a word you people tend to use that would closer and more accurately resemble the status... yet there are some things there that, as far as I know, do not exist here anymore, if they ever did. Technologies that would leave this place in the dust, despite this so-called 'medieval' term." Madea turns her head to Savannah, then says, "I believe you people also call it parallel universes... is what Douglas told me the term was. But besides just being a parallel universe, it's a different time period altogether. Long story short, is that Douglas and his company were willing to receive both my brothers and myself into this world, when ours was turning to shit. Despite the advancing technologies far greater than these of the current era, the society itself was filled with idiots, and like all things, was reaching its point of inevitable declination, and—" "...Whoa whoa whoa," Savannah spoke up, forcing her to pause, "That's... a lot for me to take in, all at once." "Mm, well I did say long story short," Madea chuckles, "Or are the people of your world just not apt in catching up on too much information all at once, I take it?" "No no, we're... uhh... okay with it, I think..." Savannah sweatdrops, "But yeah, saying that all in one go is... tough... and really... you're right, I can't see how anyone would believe you on this, if I didn't already know the context. And even with the context, coming from another world is already unbelievable!" Madea nods, with a satisfied smirk. "Correct." "...And would you like to know how our world, as I so aptly put it, 'was turning to shit'?" Madea asked him, waiting for a response. "I... u-uhm," Savannah stammered, then shrugged nervously, "*S-sure?*" There, she points one of her digits directly at him, from her left forepaw. "You." "Huh?!" Savannah jumps up a bit, "That's impossible! I've never even been to your world!" "Let me finish," Madea blinked twice, "It is rather your species... whatever you happen to be a mixture of. Mixtures. Mixtures of species, congregating into the form of hybrids." "...Really?" Savannah gasped a bit, "But you don't seem like a hybrid, for instance." "You are, once again, correct." Madea remarks, almost sounding like a robot when she says so, "I am a pure-blooded feline, a rare few amongst all the population, same as my brothers... as far as we can tell." "...Huh." Savannah thinks to himself for a few seconds, before responding, "So how did hybrids ruin your world? I don't really see the problem, if species get together and share their genes. Is that a bad thing?" Madea chuckles, "Ahh, Savannah. You ask such silly questions! It is like talking to a chicken with its head chopped off but still loosely sewed on backwards." "Erm—" "Of course it is a bad thing!" Madea shouts matter-of-factly, as her deep, blood red eyes flare up like fire, "What happened was that almost every species of pure-blood started fraternizing with the other, when there were clear traditions for each prohibiting or disencouraging such behavior. So when people started breaking these traditions, and realized that they can get away with it because it wasn't that strictly enforced to mean death to both them and their offspring, they kept doing it. Over and over and over again... until eventually, my world ended up with more hybrids than pure-bloods, and almost all of them were just... bizarre." "...Bizarre?" Savannah asked, listening intently at the topic that concerned his own being, "Bizarre how?" "They aren't like you," Madea continues, "I have heard you possess powers, a majority of them do as well. But for them, they are often far more monstrous and unstable with it, the more down the ladder you go. Their genetics... are far too much all over the place to be put down to one species." Savannah's eyes widen, realizing what she was saying. "They are *monsters*, Savannah. Pure monsters. The original two, or four, or six species that they came from now distributed upon twenties, thirties, even forties for the extreme cases. So when I say they are like you... it is really just an understatement, one of the century, really. Some are deformed... others have structure, but still have defects that sometimes only appear as they age, or are seen right off from birth. It is a genuine mess that had started within the first one hundred and fifty years of the problem's origin, but has only been getting worse since the last fifty, and has reached a point of definitive decline within the past decade." "...Ahh." Savannah acknowledges, nodding his head, "I see, really... but how did you get here, of all places? What was the process like, I'm wondering? If there are parallel universes, maybe an infinite amount right...? How did you end up exactly in this one?" Madea listens to him, then chuckles. "Now that... is an actually good question, for once. But I cannot tell you all the details." "...What? Why?" "Because it heavily involves Douglas," Madea says, "The person we are loyal to, the only person that was able to accept us proper, within all that infinity you just mentioned— was Douglas." Savannah shakes his head, "...I don't—" Madea sighs, "First of all, my family is of a very ancient, royal descent that dates back ages upon ages ago. Five thousand years or more. Ever since then, at some point in time we have specialized in the use of blood magic, and that has been our 'power' ever since. Douglas is also keen in the aspects of blood magic... naturally so, even. There are only rare few that have it innately within them to wield such a power, where one of those rare few includes myself." "When my brothers and I were looking to jump ship, so to speak, and leave our own world, we had to do it through the process of a very ancient blood ritual. One that relies on the ties of blood through the many universes themselves, that exist throughout all of time. ...Simply put, we had to tie ourselves to an extremely distant, yet essential as a host blood relative, and teleport ourselves to him. The effects were rather unstable, but—" "Douglas Aiszer is your relative?!" Savannah yelled out, wildly, mouth agape in complete shock. "Quiet down!" Madea hisses at him a bit, "Yes, yes he is, but like I mentioned, a very distant one. The closest thing to call him might be a cousin, but even that would not do it justice, and— wait, how did you figure that out?" "You said 'him'... and we were talking about Douglas just a moment ago using blood magic, or powers... or well, whatever. I figured there was a connection, there." "...Ah." Madea nods silently. "That makes sense... you are quite more perceptive than you look, Savannah." She purrs, "But anyway, as I was saying— the effects of the ritual are, in general, unstable. It is practically relying on your own blood connections to jump worlds, for heaven's sakes. It is not without consequence, even when done regularly... but this was not a regular meet-up." Savannah notices Madea begin to smirk, and then tilts his head, "What? How so?" He asks, wanting to curiously inquire upon that grin with a bit of impatience. "Like I said, I cannot tell you everything due to Douglas' faith in us. In fact, I would imagine that if you keep up with him, you will find out for yourself soon enough. But what made this world so highly suitable out of all the other distant blood relatives we could have chosen, was the fact that is was already compromised." "...Compromised?" Savannah growls slightly in a bit of annoyance, "Compromised by what? You're leaving a lot out." "Again, I am sure that you will see in time... but I really cannot disclose that to you, Savannah. I am sorry..." "Oh, alright..." The fox-feline huffs, and looks away for a bit, glancing back at the night's sky. "...But I will say this," She chimes in, further, "The structure of this world was already so unbelievably weak that it gave my family hope. ...What was left of my family, anyway. It might have been the first time ever, really, that the ritual would have been recorded as able to be done completely successful without any consequences like splitting your body in half upon transferrance, or increased aging due to an inability to adapt to the times, or even becoming gravely ill... this, that, the other." Madea grins, as she notices Savannah catch her gaze again, "And it was all thanks to Douglas. Without him, we never would have been able to do the transferrance ritual so risk-free. It was a blessing, and showed me another part of nature that perhaps some might call fate, or a higher purpose. The odds of him doing what he was doing to weaken this world's hold upon itself, and us in another world trying to get out before it completely turned to ruins was more than just coincidence— not to mention our family's distant blood lineage throughout all of time." "...Uh-huh." Savannah says, in an unconvinced tone yet thoroughly convinced by her story, after all the things he's seen already. "So, that is how I am able to express these things with you, in the *now*, Savannah." Madea smiles, laughing as she puts both of her paws on, and atop his outfit. "My joys, my sorrows... anything I desire to speak to you about, and anyone else for that matter, has finally been made into a reality within this universe, and continues to do so as we speak. ...But what of your other family? You omitted any mention of your mother, and father... and all I've ever heard you talk about are your brothers. Why is that?" "Oh, for good reason," Madea says casually, "My brothers are the only ones I have left that I can trust in this world, or any world, for that matter. I was the third-born amongst us, while Kristopher was the first-born, Sadena the second-born, and Marro the fourth-born, our youngest. And I am blood anemic." "Ohh, so like, anemia?" Savannah asks, calmly. "...Well, yes and no. I guess it's something that should have been given another term in our family, but it has existed for centuries within our bloodlines. I require mainly the O-negative, A-negative, B-negative, or AB-negative blood types. I... am of the Rhnull typing, which is widely compatible with a majority of blood types, yet my body craves the ones I just mentioned to you most of all." "I will not beat around the bush with you. I am a rare exception, almost that of an outcast really... to have such a superior blood type yet still have irregularities seemingly corresponding to its makeup. And my family, because of these irregularities, have done, and continue to perform extraneous amounts of tasks in order to keep me alive. This... of course, includes the claiming of bodies which consist of those typings I mentioned earlier close to the time of death... or in a majority of the cases, murder. Tens of thousands, actually." "What... really? I mean, I guess it makes sense, but..." "Well, of course it does." Madea comments, with a slight glare, "You would not want me to die, now would you?" "...No, not really. Not at all, actually," Savannah notes, "But really... why would you openly admit to murder, and all these other things to me? You could have just done what Douglas ordered of you, and not say anything else." "Douglas simply *ordered* of us, and more importantly, *myself*, to meet with you and talk. That is, for the most part, all he had to say on the notion. He figured that this event would have been fitting... and on top of that, I wanted to gauge your character, like anyone would." She smiles. "Uh-huh," Savannah says, once again. "I cannot be close to someone if they cannot understand me, if they cannot view where I am coming from with a sense of understanding, even if what I have to say is negative, like murder, and the theft of bodies for blood." "...I understand," Savannah nods, to which Madea smiles. "Good," She purrs, "We have been here for about five years, now. Slowly adjusting to this 'city' life, as you people of Imagia might put it. From where I come, it is called Raedera. A continent, with many other continents joined together... yet all have been corrupted by those miserable hybrids. It... wasn't always that way, of course, but we cannot go back, in more ways than one." "Oh." "And just for the matter, I do not hate you Savannah, just because you are a hybrid. In fact, I find it a bit... flattering, and almost ironic that I would still be able to be around so many, and befriend one such as yourself. You seem... like a good one, that is to be certain. But misguided, most definitely." "...I—" Savannah was about to interject on her last comment, but stops himself, "You still keep skipping out on your parents, though. Must be quite a bad story...?" "Mm, not the worst," Madea rolls her eyes, "I come from a rich background, and of royalty. The Locksmith family is known for it. My father murdered my mother when I was still young; accidental, and on her part, says him. She allegedly caused it due to pressuring him to sign an important contract, then fighting him for it. My mother was a beautiful, tranquil spirited she-cat, and I know that she would do no such thing as fighting." "Oh, I'm... sorry to hear that, Madea." Savannah admits, bowing his head a little, "If you don't mind me asking, what do you think was the real reason, then?" "I think, at least from my perspective because all but Kristopher actually believes my father and his lies, just because he spoiled them rotten— the contract portion *was* real, that part is true... but I think my father had just gotten so tired of my mother's constant pestering about it in terms of business affairs that he wanted to simply be done with her, and move on to another mate... which he *did*, mind you." "...Oh." Was all Savannah could tell that he was saying, practically forced to from all the negativity dripping down her stories. Madea looks down, seemingly saddened by what she just admitted, but sighing it off in the end. "...It's fine. My mother was, after all, very kind." Madea states, "This is something that is left to be blamed of against God, the writer of all our destinies. Whoever is writing our story right now is also not very kind... but maybe they *also* had no choice. Again, it might have just been in their nature. But as a result, should they stop writing? *Can they*? Can they overcome their own nature to stop this horrid existence from continuing? Or are they obligated to see it through, to the end, as you now know is the truth for anyone that does not die first?" Savannah listens to her closely, each sentence she gave giving him a different expression to wear upon his face, mostly those of sorrow, and harsh comprehension. As such, it would not have been a surprise to anyone that she would feel his larger chest up against her body, clutching Madea closely with a deep, warm hug. "I understand. You don't have to tell me twice, about what you just said. I understand it, completely." "...Mm, good~" Madea purrs, as her tail sways from side to side within the male's grasp, "Then I hope that you understand this as well, what I'm about to do to you." Savannah doesn't necessarily have time to react or ask questions, as he feels two, sharp fangs penetrate the lower side of his neck, more along his shoulder, a sweet spot causing him to immediately flinch and scream out in pain. "...Relax," She chuckles, leaning away from him with her tongue out, and playfully coated in his blood to show him in front of his face. "It's already been done~ You're... an O-negative, I can tell~" As Savannah quietens down with a groan, Madea purrs, sweeter than any kind of milk or honey mixed together, and giggles. "I just wanted a taste of you, that's all~ You'll do just fine for me, Savannah~" She stares at him, with those seductive red eyes again, before a flash of reds meet her own gaze. "Owch!" Madea screams out, yet it almost sounds more blissful than in any form of pain, "T-that's right, Douglas did say you had electrical powers... and mm... fire powers too, right?" "What? Oh, did I shock you?!" Savannah exclaims, still holding her close despite being bitten, almost hypnotized by her gaze, "I-I'm so sorry Madea, I didn't mean—" "Oh no, that's okay," She continues to purr, pressing a paw up against his outfit, "Where we're going, you can shock me as many times as you would like, red eyes~" Savannah blinked, then gulped as his orbs slowly turned back to their usual browns, "I- u-uhm—" The male blushes heavily again, to which Madea giggles. "Go on, I've seen the way you've been looking at me, Savannah... and I've been doing just the same thing~" She purrs louder, and in an even more unusual, deep sultry tone, licking her maw off further with the remains of his blood, "Let's go rent a room upstairs, *my treat*~"

Chapter Twelve

God

Their room is filled with red. Bed, sheets, curtains, everything; red. Their outfits, now off, after a session together. "God is everything you love," Madea explains, calmly, whilst looking up at Savannah from the bed, and him being on top of her in the middle of the night, "God is everything you despise." "God is every pleasure conceivable, and every displeasure conceivable, to you. To anyone, for that matter. God is a whole vessel, perceived by two, like our eyes; two split perspectives following dualistic trains of being," She smiles, purring with a stretch, "God is one. God is eternal, and God... is split, now, yet still a whole. Like a whole... picture. He is you, me, us, everyone, everything. Even lesser deities come from God. He is the one true whole." She smiles more, as Savannah smiles back at her, and she grips his face a bit playfully. "God is one." "One eternal paradox." "One eternal loop." "Something that will always break, yet something that will never be broken." "Something that will always return, yet never comes." Savannah gives her a playful bite, and drags her along until she rests upon his chest, and he can feel the remnants of their night together shift as they move, body to body. "I hate him," Savannah chuckles, nodding, "Creator he may be, or a whole of myself, and others, and everything... the whole, whatever. I can't stand the idea, really." "Mm," Madea licks at his ear, and presses her paws deeply into his chest, "Yeah, me neither. I think it's a blessing I don't understand it all, either. Just some. Just enough." "...Oh, by the way, speaking of strange things... did I mention to you that I'm actually 105 years old?" "...PFFF—" Savannah recoils for a bit, although he can't really move much with her on top of him, and being atop the bed, either, "What?! You should have... you should have told me, yeah! What the fuck?!" "I know, I know," Madea feigns concern, with a little, cute moan, like an actress, "But well... I didn't know how you would react. It's just an age thing, but I essentially just look like some regular ol' adult, honestly. My brothers are... in a similar circumstance, my entire family really, all because of the blood magic." "Sadena is 122, Kristopher is 135, Marro is... I forget, 90... 95? No... 98, 98. I apologize." "...Ahh." Savannah seems a bit concerned, but not that greatly touched by the news, "That's... interesting, but it makes sense why you're so knowledgeable, and just... out there, I suppose. You've probably seen it all, by now. Everything must be boring to you... almost like myself, a little." "And that, must very well be fate connecting us, from quite literally one world to another, in this case. But usually, it is from one world, to another... but just not an actual world. Someone else's perspective of life is to be considered a world. Their world, meeting another person's world, when the two conjoin within a relationship, and then eventually knot their bond for the first time." "...I suppose," The male chuckles a bit, "And oh, speaking of knots, yours was... delicious, really~" She purrs, giving him a small kiss on the cheek that causes him to blush a bit, "...But as a hybrid, you have spines, too. What are you, really?" "Oh... a fox-feline hybrid." Savannah tells her, "That's... a bit rare in my world, because again, just two things instead of a million genes, basically... but fascinating. I..." Madea clears her throat, blushing a bit herself, "I much... enjoyed our session together. It made me forget all about the party... in fact, I wonder if my brothers are worrying about me, at this very moment... but when I tell them to piss off, they usually know what I mean, by now. We have had encounters where they now know what I mean when I do not wish to be disturbed, thankfully~" Savannah raises his eyebrows for a moment, before settling back. Madea rests her head on top of him, laid along the side, closing her eyes momentarily before re-opening them. "There are... tales. Tales, told all across Raedera, and the other continents. All across the world... we never gave it a name, but it was considered one, at some point in time. Raedera is a land that... well, is covered in red everything. Like this room, surprisingly enough... huh, I never noticed that." "Even the grass, and trees?" Savannah asks, curious as ever. "Yes, even those." "But how?" He inquires further, "That sounds more like something of fantasy rather than anything... grounded in reality, per say." Madea chuckles, "You would be surprised how much the past lingers from your current viewpoints of reality. Magic has mostly... faded, continues to fade until it's no longer there, and maybe restarts again. God, too, is thought of a similar manner... the light, dwindling, until it can spark again at its very last point; its very last moment of darkness, and poof. The spark, ignites." "...You mean to say...?" "Yes, I do. Even my time was not as magical as what I hear the past out to be. The stories that my grandfather, now recently deceased, would tell me were not laden with concrete reality. It is almost like... a story, one would tell to a child. But the strangest part of it all is, it is written down in real history as such. But the history makes it out as much less severe as the stories do, which are usually far more intimate with the details. The lingering magic of your era, is, as clear as it seems, just powers. Not much more... I believe." "Oh? Do tell." "Well..." Madea continues, "Long ago, around 4360 years before my birth, I take it... when the continents were not split, and the land was still under one name, of Aga— the creatures were just as you and I, for the most part. Some four-legged, others two-legged where befitted, and so on and so forth. But there were these 'spheres', amongst the plane of the realm. Considered to be up above, but also all over." "...So, shaped or not shaped?" Savannah tilted his head a bit. "Not shaped. It was a state of consciousness, rather than a physical sphere. I... do not know if they still exist today, that part is unclear, but I do not see where such a thing would have gone off to. Except for the..." Madea clears her throat, and sits up a little, to look down at him from atop, "Except for the wildest parts." "Go on!" Savannah growled playfully, giving her a nibble across her neck, "You're leaving me in suspense...~" "I am..." She chuckled, "But for good reason... although I suppose you have believed my stories so much already, that I suppose you will find no trouble believing this. Because in fact, this is probably similar, if not entirely similar to what would have happened in your world, as well." "Before the spheres even existed, there were these... beings. Monstrous, which... now that I think of it, remind me of the state of the hybrids in my world... but worse. They were highly, extremely distinguishable from all the other creatures within the realm. And they were huge, and most were highly intelligent, and they ruled the entire plane by themselves, even where there were still kings and queens. They existed within an entire hierarchy outside of what people established, so much so that one king had angered one of them, and as such, settled the affair to make what we may in fact know as Raedera today." "...Explain." "The land morphed, to the high concentration of magic exuded from the female being. Which... well, the level of complexity these beings had is why I wish to distinguish them from regular convention, and to make that clear. They were like gods, without kingdoms... because the entire world was their kingdom. The entire Earth." "...Okay." Savannah nods, slowly, "So if they were so great, what happened to them?" Madea listens to his question, then chuckles lightly, "Well... it seems that even they were not above corruption. According to what most sources of the time believe, there was a rape. A rape between two of these... species, if that's even the right word to call them— and the product of this foul act was so unimaginably disastrous that the moment it was born, it ascended to a higher sphere... and allegedly remade the spheres, all of them. Or reactivated, some believe... whichever narrative you choose." "And how would they even know that?" "Who?" "The people, how would they even know that happened?" "Because as soon as the creature was born, the sky turned. It turned the sky into its own, black, murky color. It left the cosmos intact, thankfully... so there were apparently those hues leftover, blues and purples alike. But the day and night cycle was never the same again. This... Kieros. Kieros was the name of this creature. He took the entire land hostage, sampling portions of its energy from anything that lived... but keeping only samples so that a majority lived, and continued to grant him energy all the while. So if the others were considered god-like... he was considered a true, lesser god. The first one... as far back as history goes... but we can never be for sure." "..." Savannah's eyes widened considerably, before lowering. "Oh, okay." He chuckled, "It does just sound like a story, yeah. What next? They all lived happily-ever-after?" "Not at all." Madea stated, "Kieros was by far the worst thing that had ever happened to the world. He brought about a rule for about 500 years, and even when he was gone, the lasting effects of his reign amongst kings left 1000 years of his influence, inclusive of the first 500. It was only then that people were able to forget about him... and lived peacefully again for another 3000." Savannah shifted a bit under her, seemingly made a bit uncomfortable from the details of the story. "But who stopped him then? It had to be the other beings, right?" "...Uhm, yes and no." Madea sighs, "When Kieros was born, and the other beings saw what he did to the sky, and to the land, making claim of both... they fled. A vast majority of them did... and only later did some ascend themselves to join Kieros, those that resembled him most. These other beings became close to Kieros, and joined him in the higher spheres, but were always considered less in power to him, and thus resided at a lower placement." "...And?" Savannah notices her pause, with a face of reluctance. "...And who stopped him, in the end of his 500 year reign... was just another person." "...What?!" Savannah shouts out, "You can't be serious! Not even one of these beings you mentioned decided to stop him? How can a god-like being, the highest of the bunch, be beaten by... what would it be, a mortal?" Madea nods, again, reluctantly, "Yes, a mortal. Named Zacaiya, he was an old goat, by the time he stopped him. That was the closest thing I could call him, a goat... but he was also of a black form, similar to Kieros, to the point where some even speculated him to be an ally of sorts— but were proven wrong. Some even speculate a family member, due to his strange coloration and form. He had six legs, even... so a large body, to boot." Savannah's eyes squint, "...Oh." "...Anyway, what happened was pretty simple, but I would imagine the build-up to it was far more intense, and well... unimaginable to a degree. No one could reach Kieros, not even the other beings, unless they were in the higher spheres he ruled over. That was already widely understood. So what Zacaiya did was begin to start a wide spread of cures from Kieros' influence. In short, he blessed them with his magic, and others continued to bless others who learned of the power, and again, and again... until almost everyone across the plane was free of Kieros' influence, and the land that was once blackened started too, to heal." "And Kieros, of course, did not take lightly to this. He could not maintain his place within the higher spheres, believe it or not, without the mortals energy. When he was born, many believe his power had climaxed then and there, reached a peak that brought him to the higher spheres, and the reason he had to maintain it through people is that if he didn't siphon energy, he would fall, and return to just a regular being, rather than a lesser god. So when Kieros saw that the higher spheres were falling, he descended with all of the beings that sided with him, and came down to Earth." "...And well, from there, the story makes it clear that such an act was his one, and only failure. His dependance on people... it seems, doomed him from the start. For when he waged war on the many mortals, and the mortals fought back, even though his forces reclaimed a majority of the Earth... they had killed more than 60% of the population in the process, just by being there, mostly. And Kieros could be a god no longer." "Ohhhh!" Savannah laughs after a short pause, "I understand now! So in reality, he shot himself in the foot just by... being born, really. He couldn't maintain his place anymore, and he didn't want to give it up, so it cost him." "Yes," Madea states, "He did not even need to be killed. Or rather, he could not be killed, anyway. All he did was flee with the remaining beings once he realized he could not hold the realm, far from it onto other realms, some believe. ...And so, the beings were no more, because those were the last. And Zacaiya, the Brave Sage was praised as a hero evermore, such that his name still lives on to this day." "...Whew!" Savannah turns, gently setting her off to the side before getting up and stretching out his hinds, shaking his head off. "...What a long-winded story! But... a really good one!" "Ah, well yes it is history after all—" Madea giggles, swaying her tail whilst staring at him, "And if Kristopher is to be considered correct... Imagia is about another 5000 years after my time. Meaning this might all have been... around 9000 years for your time, 4360 years for mine... give or take." "...Oh shit." The fox-feline notes, "I forgot that this might tie in with my world as well... you did mention that. How come we don't hear about any of that? Not even about... Raedera, really?" "Because everything must fade, in time... including history. And to be fair... such a story would not even hold up well in this modern time of yours. Like... genuinely, who would care? Who would believe such tales? Only someone as kooky and mad as yourself, I fear." "...True." Savannah notes, with a slight nod. "...All of that does not even begin to compare to the oldest story we know of, though. One that has been told through generation after generation so that it remains intact. One that only... people of higher status, or clerics, or others of that sort might really know of, nowadays." Savannah sighs, then snickers, "Another story... huh? Sure, go ahead... but this'll be the last, for now. My head is starting to spin..." Madea chuckles herself, "Sure, sure. This story is told through many interpretations, but this is the one I know, from my own time, and the one most popular." "This... is the story of the Star Children. I'm giving it to you, so that you may also pass it down, as well. It is... a story, as old as time itself." "The Star Children, as they are called, came from the very cosmos, or the spiritual realms, that existed within time. They are simply a concept used to denote what the one, whole God would have split themselves into, I believe. So, because they were child like in their nature, whimsical and playful, they would dance, as stars do... and their dance created all the physical features that we now know of today." "...And so, the Star Children played a game. They would pick their own characters, from what they wanted, within this new physical existence that arose... and they cast aside their immortality in order to become these physical beings. It was, as such, to cleanse them of their boredom, and of a desire to be physical in the first place, despite having everything in spirit. If they were to have remained one whole, in God, nothing would change... such is not the nature of things. Every power, imaginable. As such... they descended, over and over... once the original parts, then becoming separated and further weakened, over and over again, until forming beings such as you, and I." "The Star Children would only meet each other in the end, when their game was surely over, and they would begin to dance again... and again, for all eternity." The fox-feline's eyes fully widen, and his mouth remains agape, "No..." Madea nods, with slight hesitation, and a vague frown upon her face, "Yes. This is the dance of all eternity. The infinite dance." She says, "The loop."

Chapter Thirteen

Everyday Chaos (Upon Order)

There was something different. Unbeknownst to the many that were there, yet holding a stark contrast within the air of Freedom Bank that casual, cloudy afternoon. Jack, a brown cat, was missing— but no one had suspected anything given it was supposed to be during the time of his break. He arrived just about two minutes late, and was about to go back to his duties as a bank clerk. However, something changes, and he takes an unexpected turn within the interior of the building, with only the great grey owl stuck-up in white suit and black tie, as the majority of them working there noticing that he was late, and it was his turn to take over from his shift. The great grey owl, donned in the pristine work outfit (similar to the rest there), kept an eye on the clock, a faint frown creeping upon its avian features. The owl's astute gaze caught the tardy arrival of Jack, the brown cat bank clerk, who had slipped away from his duties during his break. Sensing something amiss, the owl discreetly observed Jack's unexpected detour within the bank's interior, its white feathers prickling in anticipation. Jack would continue walking within the interior, seemingly unaware of the owl's presence and making a quick turn towards another area of the bank. Unaware of the watchful gaze of the great grey owl, Jack continued his journey through the bank. With a swift turn, he moved towards another part of the bank. His movements seemed casual, but the owl knew better. Its keen eyes remained focused on the tardy bank clerk, sensing the subtle change in atmosphere. Down another hallway, the male owl could eventually no longer see him, unless he followed after his co-worker. As Jack disappeared down another corridor, the great grey owl was momentarily deprived of sight. Sensing something was amiss, the owl made the decision to discreetly follow the cat. Its feathered feet padded silently down the hallway, the owl's keen senses on high alert for any signs of suspicious activity. When the owl would reach the spot of where Jack was, he would see nothing along the pathway. That is, until something would spring down from above, and suddenly grapple their claws into the owl's throat with no hesitation, giving a quaint, teasing purr while their emerald slitted eyes gazed upon a new prey. "Oh hello~" Jack said, casually. "Please do be quiet. I'm in the middle of something." With a nonchalant tone, his grip tightening ever so slightly as a warning for the owl to remain silent. "Please... keep it quiet. Let's not disturb the others, shall we?" As the shapeshifting Jack held him, the owl felt a surge of panic. Its feathers bristled in alarm as it tried to speak but found its voice caught in its throat. The owl's thoughts raced, desperately trying to understand what had just happened. As it looked into the slitted emerald eyes of the shifter cat, it knew this was no ordinary bank clerk, that much was obvious. The owl remained eerily still, listening intently for any sign of what Jack planned next. "I believe you should now be willing to guide me to where the safe is, no?" Jack purred, smiling quaintly. "Otherwise, it'll be more than your throat I'll dig into, followed by your entrails." He chuckled, "Please, show me to it. I've somehow *forgotten*, and I need to go there now. When I release your throat, you will remain quiet, or it will be cut clean in a flash." The feline warned, and eventually let their claws off in order for the male owl to breathe. The great grey owl felt a shiver run down its spine as Jack's words sunk in. With the release of the shapeshifter's claws, it took a few deep breaths before turning to face Jack once more. "O-of course," the owl replied, its voice strained but subdued. "I will... a-ack... lead you to the safe, but please release my throat. I'll keep quiet, don't worry." The owl took a deep breath and began to lead the way towards the bank's vault, its wings stiff and feathers bristling in fear. Jack remained to the back of the owl, in case they wished to try anything. "You know, you are quite handsome, I don't know if I ever told you that~" The male chuckled, "Do we keep any guards around here, this spot? How would we get in... do you have the access for the safe?" The owl's feathers ruffled slightly at Jack's compliment, feeling a mixture of fear and confusion. It was difficult to tell if the shapeshifter was being genuine or merely toying with its emotions. "Thank you," the owl replied, its voice laced with unease. "We have security guards patrolling the bank at all times, and our security protocol necessitates multiple accesses to open the safe." The owl continued to lead Jack closer to the formidable safe, keeping its composure despite the tension. "It will require the bank manager's approval to proceed further." "How would I gain these 'multiple accesses'?" he questioned further, in a somewhat hushed tone. "Will it be from the security guards dead corpses, I wonder? You know I can kill them all... just let me know what I have to do to get in there, and if there's anyone nearby. Oh, we would get along *so swimmingly*, you and I~" The owl's eyes briefly widened in alarm at Jack's threatening tone, but it knew that compliance was the safest path forward. "To access the safe, we will need the bank manager's approval," the owl repeated, its voice carrying a hint of resigned fear. "However, there are security guards patrolling constantly, and their presence complicates matters. Eliminating them could potentially be an option, but it would require careful planning and swift action to avoid drawing attention." "How many security guards are in each area from where we are heading right now?" The owl paused for a brief moment, taking a mental inventory. "There are three security guards on this floor," it answered. "Two of them are stationed in the main lobby, while the third is patrolling between the three floors. They tend to move unpredictably, so it's difficult to pinpoint their exact locations at all times. However, they usually stick to predetermined patrol routes to ensure maximum coverage." "So in other words, there's probably only one I have to deal with as we've already left the main lobby, right?" Jack hummed, playfully poking the bird's back with his paw. "A bit faster, please~ Just a bit." The owl's wings tensed at Jack's touch, but it hurried its pace, leading them further through the bank's halls. "Yes, we've left the main lobby, so there should be only one security guard in this area," the owl replied, its voice laced with a hint of worry. "The guard follows a set route and is likely to appear within the next minute or two as we make our way closer to the safe." "That's good. Now, how would I gain the manager's approval?" The owl continued guiding Jack further into the bank, its wings still stiff with apprehension. "There are two ways to obtain the manager's approval," it explained. "One is through a direct request, while the other involves gaining access to the manager's private office and using their credentials." The owl paused, its gaze briefly flickering towards the clock. "The direct approach would require time, which we don't have. Gaining access to the manager's office would be the quicker option, but it's high risk, requiring stealth and finesse." "...Then you will instead take me to the manager's office, and lead me back to the safe as the final act! Oh, goody! An old-fashioned bank heist... I always heard these were exciting, but I never expected it to be this boring and laborious!" He purred, "But you're right, the clock is ticking! Let's go, then!" Soon, the owl and Jack arrived at the manager's office, tucked away in a quiet corner of the bank. It was a spacious room filled with various financial documents and a large oak desk placed near the wall. The owl hesitated for a moment at the door, eyeing Jack nervously before pushing the door open. "This is the manager's office," it announced, its voice tinged with unease. Jack just disappears, leaving the owl alone with the manager quite suddenly, and unexpectedly. The sudden disappearance of Jack left the owl momentarily bewildered and more alarmed than before. It cast a glance around for any sign of the shapeshifter, but Jack seemed to have vanished into thin air. Meanwhile, the manager looked up from their desk, noticing the owl standing in the doorway with a puzzled expression. The manager in question is a silverback gorilla named Reginald. He is a towering figure with a stern but fair disposition. Dressed in a dark suit and tie, he naturally exudes a sense of authority as he is seen working diligently behind his desk. Just then, a faint buzzing noise could be heard... followed by a fly passing by near to the gorilla and above his head, going farther and farther up. Suddenly, a shift would occur, and a long blade of a large, silver sword would be thrust into the gorilla's neck from falling, immediately splattering blood everywhere upon impact. The figure above said sword would be a strange, silver female wolf with strips of loose rags around her body, a single yellow left eye and a blinded right eye with a vertical scar along it. She seemed... not of the modern era, but the pose she remained in as she kept the large weapon in the male's neck clearly indicated his end. "...I did it! Pretty easy, huh?~" She told the owl, giggling. "...So, what now?" The owl gasped in horror as it watched the gruesome scene in front of it. It took a moment for the shock to subside before finding its voice again. "Y-you... killed him!" the owl choked out, its eyes wide with disbelief. "What do we do now? We can't let anyone see this. We need to hide the body and get out of here— fast!" The silver furred wolf would carefully and skillfully secure the dug in blade from the floor, leaping all in one quick motion to then secure it along the large, black sheathe on her back. Then, she smiles at the owl... and quickly, he could see her form turn into Reginald, the gorilla... clothes and all. "Relax." Reginald stated, chuckling over the real Reginald's dead body. "I barely made a sound in killing him. No one will notice... just tell me how to get clearance to the safe now, and all will be forgiven." The owl stared at the transformed "Reginald", stunned and still in shock. "You... shapeshifted into him?" The owl managed to choke out. It took a moment for it to gather its composure and think clearly. "For bank clearance, we'll need a manager PIN and password, combined with a retina scan," He explained. "It's a multi-step process for extra security. Can you imitate him effectively?" "Of course," Reginald confirmed, "Every feature is exact, down to the very last detail... so a retina scan will be easy, but I won't be aware of his PIN and password." The gorilla then asked, "Will being in his form just work? It's practically the same thing... the guards will have to let me in, right?" The owl considered the question for a moment before nodding slowly. "In theory, if you can maintain his exact form, then appearing as him should allow access without the PIN and password," it replied. "The guards are trained to recognize and identify the bank officials. If you can impersonate him flawlessly, you should be able to pass by unnoticed. But be careful; a single wrong move or inconsistency could lead to suspicion." "...Perfect." He responded, with a crude smirk as he started walking out of the manager's office. "Clearly, you know how quickly I can kill, now. Come with me... and walk to the side so I can see you." The owl nodded gravely, its heart still racing from the shock of the murder. It followed beside Reginald, staying close and to the side as instructed, its nerves on edge and wings still rustling with anxiety. They would begin to walk along the path of the safe now, as Reginald remained cautious of the one guard that was mentioned who might have patrolled certain areas like these, while the other two remained in the main lobby. "...Quickly, and with haste." The owl walked quickly and quietly beside Reginald, its feathers rustling with each hurried step. It kept its eyes peeled for signs of the patrol guard, its heart pounding as they approached the path to the safe. "The patrol guard should be approaching this section soon," The owl whispered. "We need to be careful and stealthy to avoid detection. We need to be quick and silent at the same time." "I'm almost tempted to kill them, too," He sighed, "Just play along with me, and you should make it out of here with your life. That's what you want, isn't it?" The owl nodded nervously, its eyes flickering between Reginald and the path ahead. "Yes, o-of course," it replied, its voice trembling slightly. It continued to walk with Reginald, its wings trembling with anxiety. The sound of their hands upon the ground seemed far too loud, and the owl's heart raced at the thought of the approaching patrol guard. "...How much farther?" Reginald would inquire, upon about two minutes in passing. The owl glanced ahead, its heart still racing and feathers bristling with sheer anxiety. "Just around the corner," he replied, his voice a low whisper. "The safe is just beyond that door." It gestured with a wing to a heavy steel door further along the hallway. "Excellent." He smirked, and began walking a bit faster. "Let's get this over with, then." With a nod of agreement, the owl followed suit, matching Reginald's quicker pace and mentally preparing itself for the next step. They turned the corner and approached the heavily fortified safe door, its cold metal staring them down. "...The guard isn't here right now." Reginald nodded, then gestured to the safe casually, "So, how would I open this as the manager?" The owl quickly analyzed the safe, studying the keypad and various security features. "To access the safe," it began, "the manager needs a 12-digit code for entry. It can be composed of a combination of numbers, letters, and symbols. Unfortunately, we don't know the specific code, so we need to find a way to retrieve it." "Wait wait wait," Reginald said, in an annoyed tone, "So the guards know this code, but you don't." He growled, "I would have to get one of them to open this for me?" The owl ruffled its feathers nervously, aware of the pressure. "Yes, that's correct," he confirmed. "The guards are trained to monitor the bank and ensure security. They know the access codes for the safe, as well as other confidential information related to the bank's operations. If we want to get inside the safe, we would need the help of a guard with the access code." "...I suppose this is where you would come in, featherbrains." Reginald laughed, pointing at him. "You go and find one of the guards, while I wait here. Bring them to me with the excuse that I had managed to forget what the code was, for some reason, and that I need to get in the safe urgently to check on something. Got all that?" The owl stared at Reginald, its wings ruffling anxiously. "I... Yes, I understand," it replied, its voice trembling with unease. "I'll find one of the guards and bring them back to you, making up some excuse like that for the sudden need to access the safe. But... what if they suspect something? What if they ask too many questions?" "Oh, don't you worry. Just tell them there's no time to explain, and to come right here, right now." Reginald then waves him off with one hand. "Shoo shoo, go on now." The owl nodded reluctantly, his nerves on edge. He spread its wings and took a final glance at Reginald before fluttering off down the hall, looking for one of the guards. Soon enough, he spotted one of the guards patrolling and landed on a nearby wall. Clearing his throat, the owl spoke up, adopting a urgent tone. "Excuse me, guard," he called out, his voice steady. "The manager needs your assistance immediately. He requires access to the safe but has forgotten his code, and it's urgent." The guard, a male tiger turned to the owl, looking perplexed and surprised by the sudden news. He pondered for a moment before asking, "What's so urgent that the manager needs access to the safe right now? Is everything alright?" The owl hesitated for a moment, quickly thinking of a believable cover story. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "He mentioned needing to double-check something important, and he seemed quite disturbed. I believe it's related to potential discrepancies in the bank's accounts or some other unexpected issue. He requested your immediate assistance, as the matter is quite urgent and *very* time-sensitive." The guard's expression quickly turned more serious upon hearing the owl's answer. He gave the owl a quick nod, then nodded. "Very well, I'll follow you to the manager," he said. The guard followed the owl back towards the path to the safe, walking briskly in the direction the owl was heading. Eventually, Reginald sees the guard and the owl return to the spot, and smiles. "Oh, thank heavens." He opens his palm to point to the safe, "This is a matter of urgent importance, and I've somehow forgotten the PIN to get in here... probably the damn anxiety, again." The gorilla sighs, and looks over to the tiger. "Please, we don't have much time. I need to check something urgently." The guard glances between Reginald and the safe, his expression shifting slightly. "Very well," he concedes, still appearing a bit puzzled. He approaches the keypad on the safe and enters a 12-digit code, causing the safe's electronic locks to release with a click. The door swings slightly open, revealing the inner compartments of the safe. "Thank you," Reginald nods, and proceeds to enter inside and look around. Inside the safe, Reginald finds himself surrounded by shelves filled with valuables, documents, and high-value items from the bank. The area is illuminated by a soft, dim light from the ceiling, and the room is quite spacious. The valuables are arranged in clear, organized categories. There are neatly stacked rows of boxes filled with large sums of cash in multiple denominations, along with shelves filled with gold bullions, stacks of precious gemstones, and documents outlining the bank's financial transactions. Additionally, there are locked pouches with individual safe deposit boxes that contain private items belonging to the bank's clients. "...Perfect," They say, shifting at once before the female wolf in rags returns, followed by a swift backflip at the blink of an eye and the unsheathing of that larger-than-life sword, which would dig itself right into the tiger guard's neck before he could say anything, or even realize what was going on... and the furthered splashing and piling up upon of blood, this time with some of it getting on the owl. "Oops~" She blushes and smiles at him, apologizing. "Sorry, handsome~" The suddenness of the transformation and the ensuing violence took the owl completely by surprise. His feathers bristled in shock, and his heart raced in his chest. As the blood splattered onto his feathers, the owl stood in petrified silence, trying to process the shocking scene unfolding before him. The sight of the sword buried into the guard's neck and the nonchalant apology from the female wolf left the owl shaken and overall, more speechless than before. "Trying to remember..." The female wolf closed her eyes for just a moment, as a cold chill brought itself upon the area. "Trying to recall... ahh— there." They would say, with a sudden shift from their lighter, feminine voice to another male one at the very end of their speech. A large, black male spider monkey of sorts, cloaked in a bandit's attire with plenty of bags around his vessel would appear out of nothing, and swiftly enter back inside the safe, beginning to loot whatever they could. "...Thank you, my dear friend— but I would suggest you go change, and run." He said, multitasking while jumping around and accessing all the different boxes they could before stuffing the various items in, one by one. "You wouldn't want to get in trouble for all this... would you?" The owl stood frozen in bewilderment, still struggling to comprehend the strange, bizarre situation. The sudden transformation of the female wolf into a male spider monkey, of all things, left it dumbfounded, and the sight of the looted items being stuffed into bags sent a shiver down its spine. Despite being shaken, the owl managed to find his voice. "N-No, I... I suppose not," he stuttered, feathers puffed up in a mixture of confusion and fright. "I... I'll get out of here." Realizing the gravity of the situation, the owl spread its wings and hastily took to the air, flying away speedily. After grabbing all the things they could, a peculiar hush washed over the raided Freedom Bank. Everything remained in working order within the main lobby at least... until it didn't. A colossally huge, rather ancient looking elephant with purple and golden laced armor attached, and those same bags roped and tied securely would crash out of the safe's room and into the main one, killing and stampeding immediately on anyone who was unlucky enough to be in the way of the large, tusked creature's path. It would then break out all the way into the streets, letting out a loud cry of their bone-chilling, arcane trumpet as they went. The city would erupt into instantaneous chaos as the giant, great elephant burst from the Freedom Bank, turning while running and rampaging through the streets, again crushing all and everything in its path. Pitched screams filled the air as terrified citizens fled to escape the creature's destructive rampage. Buildings crumbled and cars crumpled under the weight of the elephant's terror as it let out a resounding trumpeted cry, signaling its wrath. Sirens filled the air as emergency services scrambled to contain the chaos and rescue the injured. It wouldn't matter what happened after. Not to them. For their form would return back to that of the bandit's, and then into a large, black raven that again did not appear to be of the modern time period. Despite having all those bags saddled to their body, they took off at once in an exceptional display of flight, although perhaps not being noticed within the mess of madness that transpired after the elephant's charging out of the bank, leaving many to just wonder what *exactly* happened in the first place. As the raven soared through the air, escaping the newer lack of order below, it left behind the city of Imagia, gripped in panging pandemonium. Citizens struggled to make sense of the scene, their questions unanswered and the true culprit of the catastrophe disappearing into the far distance. The streets were left in disarray, and the aftermath of the elephant's rampage left a trail of pure destruction. Amidst the confusion, the identity of the bandit responsible for the robbery remained just that, a stark mystery. ...What would become of this? And of the creature, without singular face?

Chapter Fourteen

Outside is Inside, and...?

The sun beat down hard on every single grain of sand that afternoon. There was no sign of rain anywhere, which contrasted the harsher waves of the sea washing up against and amongst the shoreline. A cylindrical, coastal headland stood almost abnormally in the center of the water. The "headland", strangely enough, was also primarily disconnected from the rest of the area, but still held a bit of ground to go back onto proper land with. A wooden house was set atop, a big circular opening in the center where the house's pylons were submerged. The waves came up along the sides but never reached the top. Covered around it was the Zifoam Bay. The mass forest leading up to the beach would give it a more secluded, enclosed feel, where its mass of greenery and occasional tropical sprinklings of coconut trees became a well-known asset of the location, among other features. The only problem there was... the waters. Otto, a fairly young, adult brown Bay Retriever dog would be one of the first few to show of this, for it was so remote. Pipia itself was something of a conundrum to the rest of the world, for those that even knew of the smaller island to begin with. Yet there were so few people that lived within that very part of it. The sort *that* lived there tended to favor more the dangerous side of life, as uncaring to its hazardous nature as ever. Zifoam would have better been called Superstition Bay, disregarding the longer, more drawn out moniker, as it was just that to most locals. From ghost stories to murder scenes, people clearly did not want to do anything with Zifoam, to the point where some ordered for government representatives to close the area off entirely. Long story short, that would not bode well with those that *did* reside there, and often frequented empty roads and the remaining dregs of civilization within the outskirts of the Zifoam... thus leading to a clash that had not been settled since, and may never be. Otto was a youth diver... or rather, training to be one. Stood outside on the slight rise of the headland, staring down at the sandy stretch that connected it back to the bay and the forest— a few clouds rolled over, and the sky had suddenly turned overcast. While the waves constantly beat against the sides, it was clear that he did enjoy the atmosphere, at least. The salty air with breeze leaving tree leaves to dance in the distance. The ancient house creaked in the wind, its pylons old and weary below the ocean. He was waiting on his boss, or rather master, as the feline preferred to be called. Zayaica, a white cat with a black eyepatch on his right eye, and slight pink flesh remaining from bite scars along said eye. His untouched eye, rather, was a piercing, icy blue. The cat had only been away for a bit to restock on supplies, leaving Otto alone at the house for what would effectively had been his first week on the job. Thankfully, he knew how to dive already...! But wasn't allowed to yet, for good reason. As he soon retreated to the house, shifting through the doorway... he would eventually go peeking under that trapdoor again, such allowing direct access to the waters below. Opening the hatch, the underlying shadows of the building cast below did not do much to stop the commonly occuring sight that plagued Otto's inexperienced mind. The whites of those large fish, like blur amidst the surface of the vague clearness, held both the outline and shape of a numerous multitude of sharks. It was a sight that, quite frankly, still "got to" the sea dog to be. Multitudes of usually different species of sharks being this close to shore was an uncommon feat. Not ridiculously close, as the headland did have some distance to it... but close enough to be odd. Yet it was mainly these smaller sharks that would dominate this part of the waters, while further out presented the larger, much more ravenous breeds that existed past the bay. They gathered, and fed on the lesser fish within the area... but each of them was about Otto's size if he fully stretched out, if not at times more, or much more. He was no small fish, per say... but just the thought, just the very idea... was something that made the brown dog flinch each time he opened that trapdoor. "You'll get used to it," Zayaica said, the past words on their first meeting within the dwelling imprinted in his mind. *Easier said than done*, he thought, when he could die at any moment. Should he slip in without his gear... would he? But of course, there *were* precautions! Yet nothing would ease the mind of a big one rolling in out of nowhere, and taking the sea dog whole. An unfortunate series of events, within the ocean's mystique and unpredictability. And the night. Zayaica would work at night. He once tried asking the cat how many were there before him, but he would not say. Just looked at him, and scoffed. Said he was better off asking more important things. It irked him, a little. But he needed the pay... which wasn't much at all. But he needed the pay. And so Otto would stare down at the waters, sometimes tempted to push his face down into it to view better... but also just became mesmerized by the sway of the shark tails and bodies amidst the otherwise empty looking sea. Every now and then, if he squinted, Otto swore he could see the pale glint of something deeper… something brighter than the rest of the water. That’s what Zayaica wanted— the Luma Cores. Local gems that sold, as he put it, "like hotcakes". But to reach them, he’d need to pass through the swarm. Then, he decided curiosity was enough, and closed it. It might have been a bit longer for Zayaica to return; he decided to go outside for a bit to get some more fresh air... catch a breather or two with a solid walk. As he stepped out and down the pine wood stairs off the land mass, leading onto the wide, connecting sand trail... it was only then that he begun to feel that slightly familiar sense of loneliness this part of the island cultivated. Otto did not originate from the Zifoam area, he travelled there by bus... and carried all of his major belongings with him in order to reside there just for the job. Far from his family home with many siblings out and about, and repeating that same process throughout the day... this acute lack of sociability was fairly new to him. As he finally stepped onto shore from the almost snaking path and began to slowly wander into the forest, the male kept his tail high for the most part, only that it would occasionlly sink and droop down to the grassy floor when occupied by these thoughts again. Outside of Zayaica, Otto longed for contact. Perhaps next time he would ask to be the one to go get supplies, only to communicate with another in the process... just to talk even a little. The entire forest surrounding the bay, too, was always so peacefully eerie. Unnamed, and practically just harboring its known nature off of the existence of the Zifoam itself, there wasn't anything in particular too outstanding about it. One could get lost, but it was hard with some outlined paths, including the main one back to civilization... and the shore itself serving as a landmark to get back to, just in case. One smell of that sea air, and even the most incompetent sniffer would know which way was which. After a while, there were only loose thoughts of a dame, per say. One like himself, he felt, of similar breed, would have gone nicely right now. The cheeriness of his cheeks against brown fur was still, and left him to pant a little in the sweltering heat. As Otto decided to diversify things a bit, and take an unusual turn he hadn't taken before... he thought he could almost see something, up and amidst the trees. Like legend, perhaps... his mind teased, or another one of those uncivilized, wild animals that differentiated itself from their cultured folk. It left him confused, amongst some already confusing thoughts... to leave an excitedly swaying tail to stop, and pause... and sway at a much more gradual pacing. He just continued walking, and would later come to see another pathway towards the shore. It wasn't exactly from a clearing, but it certainly was a way back to the side of the spanning bay area. He smiled at the familiar sands, knowing that he wasn't bound to face with whatever he saw as a greyish blur up in those trees that almost, or rather, *actually* did make his heart skip a beat. He was that close! And as he was finally about to step back out onto that coastline... a call. Otto could have sworn it was a bird, but as it was cheery, it was also solemn, and deep... and like a chittering he had never heard of before. He looked frantically to both of his sides, before staring up at what appeared to be something grey, its furred form exiting out of the tree leaves unhurriedly— only to float... and through its levitation, spun around eagerly, and gingerly. It laughed. Its voice was high pitched, and it was almost cat-like in appearance. It left a trail of white, near blinding sparks of faint light everywhere it travelled. And it had three eyes, with one large and on its forehead. He counted, and found that there were eight rings inside each of their eyes, and eight tails to go along with it. Yet, it was no larger than he was... with jagged, twisted smile and sharp teeth protruding out from its jawline. Otto would be left in awe at what he witnessed, imagining it to be some kind of dream... but before he could think much, the creature, whom squinted its eyes at the dog below, would float off to the shore at a suddenly fast speed... leaving Otto to quickly follow behind the trail of those bright, ethereal sparks. Although he tried not to look at them, for he was already having trouble seeing while making it back onto the shore after it. It turned out that it was a bad mistake, as while panting, he could only see the faint blur of the grey, zooming farther off into the distance, not even bothering to turn but just keeping itself floating away like nothing. He heard its chuckling, almost sounding like two voices rather than one... but still at a very high-pitch. Strangely, whatever it was also carried no scent... he could only rely on his sight— but when he did, it caused him to groan out in slight pain at being suddenly flashed, and blinded over and over again. Without long, he looked away for a bit to take a break, and regain his composure. But by the time he looked back, the creature was now gone, and he was only left with the sun creeping out past the overcast clouds, ready to return its own blinding light to the locale once more. Otto was... shocked. And left embarrassed, really. He could not tell Zayaica what he witnessed with his own brown eyes. Yet, for that matter, he also realized that he was the only person he reasonably could tell at the time... albeit at a cost of risking his job on the line. He would not. He vowed to keep it a secret for now, whilst heading back to the retreat of the house with a bit of a scampering, not wanting to be in any line of sight of the creature, whom might have still been lurking around he thought, maybe. It was then that Otto gained a new insight, while keeping his tail between his legs, locking the door behind him, and bolting his mouth shut from further matters of the sort. That new insight, being the cause that he was no longer afraid of sharks. No, not anymore.