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S.O.U.L. Everlasting [PG-16 / Arc I Started / Not Accepting at This Time]


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[Out of Character Thread can be found (here).]

 

"Good evening, I'm Yolanda Butler for Channel 6 News.  Our top story this evening, a game of sorts is being broadcast world wide.

A man, denoting himself as 'Dream', has issued a challenge to the common man and world leaders alike.  The President had this to say--"

 

 

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Dreamscape, 1st Floor, Gathering Hall

 

He flicked off the rather obnoxiously large television.  This place, the Dreamscape, was a tired mansion.  It was clad with dark, dull colors, ancient weaponry, suits of armor, and servants of all shapes and sizes.  The air was dank, and dark purple drapes over the stained glass windows would make one think it was always night while in this 'castle'.  And at six floors, no matter how high you climbed, it was always dark.  Over the cold stone floor, his heels gave a very irritable tap, as he stood before the Stage Hands.  There they stood, no definite purpose.  Puppets.  But still, new members of his family.  Dream smiled at last, as he said rather coldly, "and that's all you need to know.  Your every step is being displayed to the entire world.  Henceforth, you should assume none of your actions are private, except in my home," he said opening his arms and palms wide, proudly displaying his tacky decor.  

 

Dream snapped his fingers once, and out of thin air, a man in white appeared.  He was dressed head to toe, in a surgeon's uniform, but all white.  His eyes did not show behind his silver glasses, which gleamed off of the light.  He pulled back one of his gloves and snapped it, as if to announce his presence as he appeared next to Dream.  "This," Dream said proudly.  "Is Doctor Blanc."  A rather dull and unfashionable name.  It fit perfectly.  "He will be your guide to the events I am about to display to you.  Please, follow me," Dream said leading them out of the Gathering Hall.

 

Dreamscape, 2nd Floor, Tell Tale Circle

 

The Stage Hands were led up one flight of stairs into an enormous, circular room, much brighter than the rest of the mansion.  It was surrounded by large white columns that seemed to stretch forever into the sky, no ceiling to be seen.  There were no windows on this floor, but a natural light shined from above into the center of this room, onto a smaller pillar that held a glass case.  Inside this case was a book, and in it was written the events of every Stage Hand's life.  Past.  Present.  Future. . . which was blank.  The book's pages were constantly turning, as Dream and the Hands approached it.  "This is my most prized possession, and will be your source of travel," Dream spoke up.  "Whenever a new Chapter begins, you will find your name here--if it hasn't been erased--and match your palm to your name's plate.  You will be whisked to your destination.  However, do know, that fighting the current is the quickest way to drown.  I advise you not seek other ways of teleportation while in these walls." he said ominously.  "Doctor."

 

Blanc nodded.  He moved a hand over the glass case and watched it disappear.  As he stood in front of the Tell Tale Book, it magically turned to his own page.  His name, date of birth, and past were all blank.  His alias however, read, "Doctor Blanc Ediete".  Next to it, was a picture of his current self, and under it was a steel plate with a hand engraved in it.  "Because the Doctor has no present destination, placing his palm would only bring him back to this room."  And Blanc did so, suddenly appearing at the staircase again, walking back into the room.  "But soon enough, you will be taken to Uganda, where the stage has already been set.  And my son, Secil, will be waiting for you."

 

 

"At this time we have no further information, and will be awaiting to hear more as the broadcast continues."

 

Stone Fortress, Seraph Santuary

 

They were in a heavily hidden fortress hundreds of miles beneath the surface of the desert, just south of New Mexico, at the Mexico border's edge.  Inside, there was a variety of what seemed to be angels patrolling the massive halls.  There were no windows, but the fortress was filled with natural light.  It was made of what at first appeared to be cobblestone, but was later revealed to be marble and steel.  The Seraphs sat near the entrance of the Fortress, in a room made of white gold and marble, on crafted wooden seats, lined in silk and white cotton.

 

The cloud he conjured dissipated, and the Curator motioned towards the two large stone doors behind the Seraphs.  "As I said, the entire world knows what you're doing.  You can do nothing outside of these walls, in secret.  Dream has already marked the first location as Uganda, but we do not know where.  We have sixteen hours remaining, and it will take twelve of those to get you there, by plane.  I could get you there myself, but the risks are too great," he said stabbing his halberd into the ground.  The two stone doors opened wide behind the Seraphs, where a dark path leading to the surface came to life.  "There is a plane prepared for you.  I will meet you in Uganda.  When you arrive--"

 

----------

 

"--do NOT engage the locals.  Doctor Blanc will escort you inside.  Once you have been transported onto the Stage, there will be no contact with the outside world.  No magics will reach, and these boundaries cannot be broken, except by me.  Saying this--"

 

----------

 

"--no one can come to your aid.  Not even myself.  You will rely solely on teamwork, trust, and competence.  Go, quickly.  The plane is at the surface.  I will see you soon.  And good luck, Seraphs.  You will need it."

 

The floor beneath the Seraphs began to move, and they were strapped down before being rapidly moved hundreds of miles to the surface in a matter of seconds, to be greeted by the roar of a large cargo plane.  Outside, the pilot blared over loudspeakers.  "Get in!  We've got a long ride!"  The cargo bay opened, loudly, as the pathway the Seraphs stood on began to recede.  If they looked back, they could see the Curator's 'face' begin to disappear under the sand.  

 

MEANWHILE. . . .

 

???

 

"Gather your brothers," he spoke to one of the many creatures at his feet.  "And you!"

 

A soldier jumped, frightened but attentive.

 

"Sir!"

 

"If they break these gates, or I have to leave my room, yours will be the first head I take.  Move!"

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Dreamscape, 2nd Floor, Tell Tale Circle
 
Alexandra listened to Dream’s tutorial with the same bored expression that she always had when one of the living spoke. Dream had managed to peak her interest ever so slightly with his explanation of the “stage”, but what she was really curious about was the Seraphs… Would they be strong? She found no enjoyment in toying with the weak, and believed that the brave and powerful tend to have such glorious swan songs. 
 
As Alexandra pondered this, she began to look around the room at her allies. They themselves were a strange bunch; she considered herself to be the most normal in appearance, followed in close second by a boy who seemed to be around her age. Alexandra couldn’t quite tell what it was about this guy, but she was sure that his death would be quite the spectacle.  
 
The other boy seemed to be a few years younger then her and had a strange air of about him... Did he also have a relationship with death? Alexandra wasn’t completely sure what to make of it, but for now she decided that she would watch him closely.
 
Then there was that…thing. Alexandra couldn’t help but feel sympathetic for the creature. She could sense that its mind had been shattered, and could feel Thanatos grow tense whenever she got near it. She wanted nothing more but to gift him with death’s calming embrace… to free it from its existence. Alexandra truly believed that Jin would only truly find happiness in the grave.
 
When dream had finally finished, he would feel a small tendril of shadow tug politely at his suit's sleeve. He would then be directed to Alexandra, who would speak in her usual soft angelic tone. “And what of our opposition? You promised me that this game of yours would entertaining… So tell me... what are these heros like?” Her words held traces of killer intent so subtle that only the experienced killers in the room would be able to pick it up. 
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Stone Fortress, Seraph Sanctuary

 

Maxwell had never been in such a high pressured situation like this before. It was weird to see himself going into mortal combat and having that mortal combat filmed all over the world. It didn't help either that the Curator basically said that they would be flying solo once they landed. Furthermore they basically had six hours to go and take out all of the major bad guys in one foul swoop. Well what good would the story be if there wasn't any struggle. He took a deep breathe as he was trying to process all of this information and with that he slowly made his way to the plane. Looking at everyone else he was risking his life with he sat still in his old work uniform feeling a little underprepared. While he waited on the plane the one thing he thought of was trying to figure out a good ice breaker or warmer activity to get everyone more familiar with each other.

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Jin Marcowsi<Dream Scape, Second Floor, Tell Tale Circle

 

It smelled of burning wood around the man that stood furthest back from Dream himself, his aura being quelled by Dream's own, as well as keeping the man calm enough so that he hadn't immediately killed his allies. Little was known as to why Dream would recruit such an insane individual, could it be that he had wanted someone around who was much more insane them himself? Yes, perhaps he wanted the other members of his own team to understand that he was not the mad man another man would make him to be; Jin would be the perfect insanity absorber for Dream. When the doctor came in to view aside Dream, Jin took on an heir of excitement as the room seemed to get all the more warm. "Perhaps this is a gift! A gift for the fire!? We feed the good doctor's blood the fire brewing in the mouth of Hell!?" Jin cried out in the middle of Dream's explanation, and was then disappointed when they were led to another room; the doctor's blood was not, in fact, a gift to the all consuming fire. Jin's eyes then locked onto the only female within the group, though she wouldn't notice because of the gas mask, wouldn't notice that Jin was admiring how well her bones would set into the fire. Jin did not act on this feeling, however, Dream's aura was keeping him quelled enough, but then Dream announced that they were to make their first travel to Uganda.

 

It was after that sharing of information that the woman had spoken. “And what of our opposition? You promised me that this game of yours would entertaining… So tell me... what are these heros like?” "Oh yes, Dolly is correct, there mustn't be watered down blood sent to the fire gullet!" Jin explained, agreeing with Alexandra in his own-no doubt sick-kind of way. He had devised names for all of his comrades thus far, of course: Dolly for the woman, the white dressed male was Cannon Fodder, and the male with no shirt was to be Meat Shield. All would find their own highly offensive and crazily chosen nicknames in time.

Our Father

 

As The Curator spoke about their mission, the cloak that was a supposed member of the Seraphs had only sat in a heap about the floor. The arms had been crossed with a slight golden tinge of an aura originating from the spot it was on. "What might we need of luck." A voice formed from the cloak had said; the voice held no emotion so there was no indication if what was inside the cloak had been offended or not. It's also worth noting that the cloak was now standing straight up, and no one had actually seen it move an inch. "I will assure you that there is no need, for the Higher Power is on our side." As there was, again, no emotional tone in his voice, these words were incapable of bringing any reassurance to the group of Seraphs. It was then that the group was explained how they would make their travels to Uganda by plane and how they would there encounter powers that The Curator could not help them with. Whatever was hidden within the cloak did not worry, it merely stood there as the platform raised the group of Seraph up to where the plane was waiting to depart. "Again the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor." Our Father thought, as the plane came into view, a device he had never seen before but trusted to make the safe journey to their destination.

 

It was then that he turned to another on the plane, another that was supposedly on the same path of righteousness; one who also wore glasses, though the cloak's glasses were the only facial feature visible. It would seem that the glasses were only floating there amidst an eternal black abyss that was never ending. "Do you also walk the path of the Higher Power?" Our Father asked of the young man. This could be interpreted many different ways of course, but perhaps he was asking if he truly fought for good and holy purposes?

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Ryouta yawned softly as the explanation dragged on and on. He came here for a job, not a lecture. Darting his eyes around the area, he made a quick summation of the others around him: an old guy who apparently couldn't be shot, some maniac in a fire suit, a red-caped man who could do with a bit more clothing than he had on, and a young girl who, he noticed, was looking at him as well. Letting out a silent sigh as he smiled, he saw the girl's shadow tug on Dream's sleeve.

 

“And what of our opposition? You promised me that this game of yours would entertaining… So tell me... what are these heros like?”

 

Raising an eyebrow at the question, Ryouta thought to himself, Ah. So she is in it for the sake of killing. Not quite my cup of tea, but to each their - - - 

 

"Oh yes, Dolly is correct, there mustn't be water down blood sent to the fire gullet!"

 

Ryouta directed his vision at the man in the firesuit, wearing an expression of disdain for interrupting him mid-thought. Looking back toward the girl, he pulled out his switchblade, turning it into a small Derringer pistol. Bringing the muzzle up to his left temple, he jerked his wrist upward as he pantomimed firing the pistol into his brain, rolling his eyes back and sticking out his tongue briefly. Returning his expression to normal, he responded to the two bloodthirsty members of his group. 

 

"Frankly, it doesn't particularly matter how strong they are. The information will be all but useless until we actually face off against them, and by then we will be able to figure it out for ourselves. Don't tell me you two are picky?"

 

Stashing the switchblade back in his pocket, he smirked at the girl, whose name he still had not gathered, and winked as he continued his explanation of the situation, "You will miss out on all the fun if you are busy being concerned over whether it will be present."

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"Why is it that whenever somebody wants to hurt me, they can't at least buy me a drink first!" Archibald said among his would-be teammates. Not an ounce of laughter erupted from their mouths. Maybe they didn't hear it. However he didn't care, as he sat down and crossed his right leg over his left. The World was left to be saved by this extremely diverse group of people. He saw a girl, her name unbeknownst to him. He could feel the magic power coming from her. Truly a worthy force to have on our side. A man African man who looked extremely out of place, then again Archie was wearing a suit. However, there was magic power bursting from him aswell. This should be interesting. Four Power houses in room, for the sake of humanity. "I guess I'll introduce myself, to make this less awkward. The name's Archibald Markise." He propped his hand out, accepting a handshake from anyone who was willing to give it, but a 9 of Hearts flew out of his sleeve. It hit the wall, landed on the floor, and a Giant Cyclops began to crawl out. He rushed over to the card, "Niner! Go back inside, now!" He tried to shove to shove it back in, and succeeded. He said under his breath "I really gotta get a lid on this thing....Where was I....Oh yeah, I'm Archibald, call me Archie if you please, and I do card tricks!" He said with a smile on his face.

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Rosso could only look on in misery at the surrounding area, dirty, dusty, old and clearly without proper keep. He could only ponder over how such an individual as Dream wouldn't have several hundred servants to tidy the area up for himself. Growing up in a wealthy estate led Rosso to being quite picky about the cleanliness of his surroundings although he for one would never contribute to the task. Rosso knelt down and brushed the dirty floor with his hand, a big sigh exhaled from in his breath as he turned his attention to an even more remarkable sight, his new comrades, who were also recruited by Dream  he did expect upon hearing everyone's arrival that there would be some fascinating characters. 

 

“And what of our opposition? You promised me that this game of yours would entertaining… So tell me... what are these heros like?” Came the soft voice of a girl who has controlled a shadow like creature to tug at Dream's arm. Oh, Rosso thought to himself as he smiled lightly and folded his arms. Such a presence its actually weighing me down, regardless of appearance this girl is oozing blood lust.

 
"Oh yes, Dolly is correct, there mustn't be water down blood sent to the fire gullet! Came the loud energetic sounding man wearing a fire type attire the man although outspoken definitely had a sick mind. A wild personality doesn't seem convenient at all, none the less he is someone to look out for.

 

Rosso then watched as the final individual in the room pulled out a small switchblade and changed it into a pistol pointing it at his head. And what's this? Rosso thought as he could only watch what the final strange individual had to say. "Frankly, it doesn't particularly matter how strong they are. The information will be all but useless until we actually face off against them, and by then we will be able to figure it out for ourselves. Don't tell me you two are picky?. You will miss out on all the fun if you are busy being concerned over whether it will be present."

 

"Hahahahah!" Rosso then couldn't help it anymore, he exhaled a loud and brief chuckle, clapping his hands to match the loud echo of his voice and leaning forward. "Very good!" He continued as he then wiped a tear from his eye and stood up straight. "My new suicidal friend has a point, that would take out alot of the fun however without the slightest bit of knowledge we become quite vulnerable." A disdain looked overcame Rosso's face as his eyes widened to their furthest stretch and his light grin turning into a sadistic frown. "Vulnerability my friend, Is inconvenient."

 

Rosso then pulled a Scarlet Devourer Rose from the clothing on his shoulder and began twirling it in between his fingers. "Nonetheless, everyone here looks more then capable." He then let out a large harmless grin and continued to listen.

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Dreamscape, 2nd Floor, Tell Tale Circle

 

Dream was prepared for a bombardment of questions, to which he was not let down, even if rudely interrupted.  "Oh yes, Dolly is correct, there mustn't be watered down blood sent to the fire gullet!" Dream looked at Jin for a moment, before grinning, and patting him on the head, admiring  the psychopath.  He smiled at the first question, which he had predicted.  "I was hoping you would ask me that," he said leading the Stage Hands to the edge of the Tell Tale Circle, back to the staircase which went no higher, but instead, four floors down suddenly.  "As you would assume, I know much of the Seraphs," he said leading them down to the third floor.  Suddenly, the air was filled with a funk, and a non toxic gas entered the air as the Stage Hands landed on the third floor.

 

Dreamscape, 3rd? Floor, Urea's Raiment

 

"However, their. . . abilities should remain a mystery.  If I told you the climax of the story now, you would find no joy in reaching it!  Especially for a young lady," he said stopping to turn and stretch his ragged face into a smile, glaring at Alexandra.  "I will say, you will find them formidable.  They are the protagonists after all~" he said in a sing-song voice.  This floor was darker even more than the first.  There were test tubes on both the left and right sides of it's entrance, and as the floor expanded, more came into view.  These many tubes and their various occupants were frozen, except for the occasional air bubble which escaped the masks of those who were captured inside.  There was an eerie green light that pierced through the already thick, foggy gas on this floor, but the Stage Hands would find nothing more than a mild irritable cough afflicted them because it was not toxic.  If anything, it was simply a nuisance.  This gas was simply to shroud the floor, which, should anyone look down. . ."Eyes on me everyone!" Dream said as he turned his back to the rest of this floor, facing the Titans.  "The questions you seek will be answered in a moment's time.  Please pay no mind to the scrawling or taunting of the experiments!  Urea has trained them to act on eye contact!  Now, you should know that, in your endeavors, you will be exposed to many elements," he said pausing, noting the gas around them.

 

"This that you smell, is non-toxic, and will buffer you when you reach the first stage, but as Ryouta has already stated, the strength of your opponent means nothing.  Well, it will be meaningless if you play tactfully and cooperatively.  Now then, breathe deep, because the Seraphs will not have this opportunity!  And if they're late . . .~," he had begun singing again, and giggled childishly.  "Oh, we should do this properly, lest we upset my dear daughter.  Close your eyes now, breathe deep, and exhale!  Then you must be off." he said as he felt her presence on the back of his neck.  Cloaked in the gas, she was literally undetectable.  She walked around the Titans as a group, carefully examining each of them.  She came to one Titan whose scent excited her to the brink of madness, but took her back to a calmed state in one swift motion.

 

"This one," she thought to herself, taking what she needed.

 

Their breathing exercises complete, Dream led them back to the second floor.  "Now, be wary, Secil is very demanding.  I didn't think I would raise such a spawn, but alas he is my child.  You are about to reach the first stage, and I expect you to return to me alive.  The creatures there are also formidable, but with enough force should do your bidding.  Oh and," he stopped, reaching the Tell Tale Book, removing it's seal.  "You may be in for a bit of a shock.  Now, come, come!  There's much to do!" he said ushering the Titans forward.

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Maxwell sat on the plane with his hands slowly gripping the clothes on his knees trying not to seem nervous. The other people here seemed to be a lot more confident with laying there lives on the line for this cause. Speaking of others Maxwell soon found himself looking up at one of his teammates. An imposing...man...maybe? The only thing that he could make out was his voice and a pair of glasses. Maxwell's eyes widened as this man spoke to him.

"Do you also walk the path of the Higher Power?"

Maxwell gulped as he remembered this man's earlier remarks about higher powers. It made sense that the atrocity of this "Dream" character would draw the wrath of the overly religious. Note that Maxwell himself was not so religious, but he was definitely respectful of others. In this case he was both respectful and afraid. "I...I...do walk with a certain purpose in mind. I uh...yeah...that...my names Ma..." before he could even finish his sentence he tilted his head past the floating pair of glasses to give proper attention to the monster that warranted such. Once again eyes widened as a cyclops started to crawl out of a man's playing card.

What exactly did I sign-up for? Who are these people? Maxwell got slightly nervous when faced with this smiling monster tamer and this creature with glasses. Well there was only one thing he could do. He stood up and walked over to Archibald and shook the mans hand. My name is Maxwell Troy. He said loud enough so that the omnious figure of Holyness would hear his name. He then waved his hand across the air and the words PLAYING CARDS appeared in big block letters. He the snapped his fingers and the word then dispersed into 54 playing cards. And I can do some card tricks too. He put on a smile and hide his nervousness from his teammates.

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From his very first brief encounter with Dream Rosso knew that he had found conveniently the most appropriate teacher for himself. The way he carried the curiosity of the Titans with such composure whilst emitting such an intimidating presence and the way he was able to settle the minds of this crazy group, showed that Dream wasn't someone to even consider crossing but rather someone to constantly learn off.

 

Dreamscape, 3rd? Floor, Urea's Raiment

 

"This 'show' has peaked my interest." Rosso stated as a friendly smirk arose, "The protagonists sure have their hands full." he continued as he then put his hands behind his head and nodded excessively at his new comrades as if to see their approval and began whistling a tone that matched the pace of Dream's sing-song voice. As Rosso continued to follow the group he couldn't help but forcibly cough a few times in succession, Rosso grew slightly suspicious and panned his eyes left and right to find the source of the temperamental change in the air he then looked down to be met with the loud voice of Dream."Eyes on me everyone!" Rosso immediately looked up to see Dream Facing the Titans. He began calming the suspicions of the group about the gas then began reassuring them that they will be tactically at an advantage against the 'protagonists' upon the first stage however teamwork and cooperation will be essential. For a group of such contrasting personas to co-operate will be beyond difficult. Rosso thought to himself as he began rubbing his chin in curiosity as to who he would be able to cooperate with most.

 

"Oh, we should do this properly, lest we upset my dear daughter.  Close your eyes now, breathe deep, and exhale!  Then you must be off." 

 

Hmph, a daughter?

 

"You may be in for a bit of a shock.  Now, come, come!  There's much to do!" Dream finished as he hinted for the Titans to move forward. Rosso closed his eyes and took an exaggerated deep breath with his arms spread wide out to his sides.This 'Dream', is full of surprises. He then loudly exhaled, patted his chest lightly and began moving forward. 

 

 

 

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"It's good to know there is some hospitality around here." Archie said as he accepted his Maxwell Troy's handshake. "I have to say, that was a hell of a trick. I'm only limited to my dice and cards, you and I should be friends..." Archie looked around discreetly, and at that girl that has not even spoken yet, "we should all be friends." Archie took a good look around, looking at the plane as well. It seems all of this secrecy, and we got a regular plane. He smiled upon it though. "I didn't even get to pack!" He said sarcastically, "And were going to Uganda!? In this suit..jeez. Curator, your paying for a new suit when this is over!" Really glad I didn't take the damn overcoat..

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Dreamscape, 2nd Floor, Tell Tale Circle

 

"Alas my darlings, we will be separated for some time," Dream said, placing the back of his hand to his forehead, and pretending to faint, before rising backwards off of his heels, into a handstand, and twirling around on one finger, stopping with his back to the Titans.  Without moving the rest of his body, his head turned to face them.  "Quickly, find your place in the Tell Tale Book.  And remember, do not fight it's pull.  I'd hate to send in a janitor.  Doctor Blanc, would you lead the way?"  Dream stood up finally, snapping his head back into place, as he waited patiently for the departure of the Titans.  Doctor Blanc nodded, appearing suddenly, and was the first to place his hand into the Tell Tale Book.  A dark purple light surrounded him, as he turned to face the Titans.  Before they could comprehend what was happening, Doctor Blanc was literally being pulled apart.  From his left and right sides, the very fabric of his existence was being torn apart, atom by atom.  Then, an explosion.  Though loud, it did not escape the purple light, and Doctor Blanc was gone.  "Now, who's next~?"

 

Kakiri, Uganda, 8:01 p.m.

 

"Hmm?  Hey!  You can't be here!  Someone sound the ala--ack!"  In an instant, the soldier's lungs and vocal cords had been surgically removed, and in that same instant, his cuts were stitched.  Doctor Blanc simply shook his head, as he swiftly moved past three more armed guards, silencing them.  It was already dark, and a harsh desert wind blew sand to cover the noise of body drops.  He stood now, outside of an abandoned gas station.  It's pumps had been broken off completely, a closed sign on the glass door of the convenience store.  Picking the lock, Blanc made his way inside.  The smell of rotting food and filthy toilets were ever present.  But behind the counter, a dull blue glow emitted light into the area.  There.  The first page.  It looked as though it had been torn from another book.  Picking it up from the dirty floor, Blanc moved the page to the counter top, and became the new acting cashier, waiting for "customers".

 

Seraph Sanctuary

 

As the path closed, the Curator stabbed his halberd into the ground again.  The Sanctuary lit up, and he moved swiftly towards it's innards.  He could hear them calling.  The sands.  He dove head first into the hourglass, disappearing inside it's glass without shattering it.  Inside, he was greeted by the etches of time.  Millions, possibly billions of faces made in sand, speaking and conversing with other faces.  Events in history being relived, as wars came to life through these sands.  Various historical monuments being built, and some being shattered, through these sands.  But finally, he found the face he was looking for, and it stared back at him.  Dream.  Running his fingers through Dream's sand, the sand turned black, and then faded back into color again.  The Curator instantly felt sick, and a twisted smile crossed the face of the Sand Dream.  The Curator waved his hand next to this clone of Dream, and a portal opened before him.  Uganda.  "If the Seraphs could see this. . . .no.  They must never see this world."  He stepped through, the bodies of fallen soldiers at his feet, likely the work of Blanc.  Sealing the portal behind him, he almost felt at home, as the local sands blew into the wind.  The Curator rolled up his robe on his left hand.  Touching each of the fallen soldiers, their bodies turned to dust, and were blown into the wind as well.  He mumbled something in an alien language, and closed his fist tightly.  "Rest.  For eternity."

 

Finally, the Curator entered the gas station, recognizing the blue glow.  Blanc raised his head, acknowledging the Curator, who said nothing in return.  Instead, after examining the page, the Curator left the station, and disappeared into the desert, mixing his own body with the sands.  Inside, Blanc was smiling beneath his surgeon's mask.  "Now we wait."

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Stone Fortress, Seraph Sanctuary

 

Breanna rose from where she was sitting and moved along the path with everyone else towards the plane. Her gaze moved from side to side as she looked at everyone and her surroundings. Turning around, she barely saw the curator before he disappeared. "Right. So...go to Uganda. Get there by plane. Not much details, plus I have no idea where Uganda is." A giggle escaped from her lips. "Sounds like every other quest you get in DnD." Opening her right palm, dice appeared briefly before she willed them to disappear once more. The action brought a smile to her face as she continued on and boarded the plane. "Well then, I guess it's time for a real adventure!"

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Alexandra let out a gloomy sigh as she watched the Doctor vanish in the brilliant purple light. Much to her annoyance, a small tendril of darkness shot up from her shadow to shield her eyes from the flash. Without shifting her expression, she gently swatted the tentacle down before taking a look around the room.

"Now, who's next~?"

“That would be us.” Alexandra’s voice held minor traces of impatience. “Us” being her and Thanatos of course. Normally she’d let someone like the fireman, or the shirtless man test the book to make sure it was safe. But she could feel Thanatos growing restless, and she herself was beginning to grow weary of Dream’s antics… Not bothering to look at her would be boss; she walked over to the book, placing her hand on the panel without hesitation just as the Doctor had. The girl’s small frame was almost instantly consumed by the book’s near blinding light; but just as she vanished from the room she turned her blood red gaze towards her allies. “Do try not to keep me waiting…”

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Jin Marcowsi

 

"Oh yes, I will follow Dolly into the fray, where we will drain blood, blood for the fire!"  Jin stepped toward the book and actually waited patiently as it turned to his pages; the words being written in red, of course. He placed his hand on the book page and then had his existence torn apart just as the other two before had theirs torn apart. Any pain that might have come from the experience was undoubtedly enjoyed and any pulling from the book was accepted joyfully as he went. He screamed something about a meat shield and some cannon fodder that wasn't able to be heard over the sound of the process.

 

Our Father

 

"As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another." Our Father suddenly preached to the group, with friendship high in the air and their efforts to work together were surely sound. On top of all of that, it was sure that all of them would worship the Higher Power after it had taken the world for all that was holy. Although he did agree to work with The Curator and these others, a sacrifice or two for the Higher Power isn't something that it would avoid if it needed to be done.

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Rosso watched as the Doctor directed the group towards entering the book. His excitement continued to blossom under his pale fake expression, what tests would lie across at their destination? Or will he even survive entering a "book". It's likely that I can't trace this surfaces' properties and keep it recalled in my memory. Rosso thought to himself as he recalled testing it previously when he wiped the dust on the floor earlier. The thumb he was using to rub his chin began twitching with frustration as a light rubbing turned into a single slash with his nail leading to a cut his chin.. How....inconvenient... The wound began to glow red as if about to seep blood however within a few seconds the brightness dulled and black tiny strains within Rosso's chin repaired the wound. 

 

Rosso watched Alexandra and Jin walk in towards the book and disappear in a shining light and with their own sendoffs. Rosso turned his head to the remaining individual aside from himself.

 

"Well my suicidal friend I guess I'm next?" Cheerfully Rosso walked forward and towards the tome to be engulfed in a bright light. "Hmm, an appropriate send off?" He turned his head and with closed eyes and a wide smile stated. "Let's Devour." Rosso's body was then completely engulfed in the bright light.

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Altria

All these time, Altria decided to negate his presence's existence as he watched over his supposed "teammates". Not exactly a fan of any of them, if he could be honest. Especially the madman with the firefighter mask. That guy creeped the hell out of Altria. But anyway, he followed them as they went into the gas chamber, and then into the next place. After a somewhat unsettling display from Dream, he urged them to touch a book stored there, though the tone of his voice somewhat worried Altria. Especially after he saw someone being ripped apart by the light emitted by the book, though it then apparent that it's a form of teleportation. He became sure when the psychotic girl, the "firefighter", and another guy followed that man and got ripped apart by the book's light.

 

He immediately cast off his negation of his presence, revealing his existence to people in the room that had not noticed him already, and immediately touched the book. As he disappeared from the room, he somewhat regretted the fact that he didn't pay more attention to what Dream and his assistants said, though he definitely did not resist the book's pull.

 

Arisu

 

"As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another."

 

"Pardon me Father, but that somehow sounds somewhat....wrong. I don't think it's really proper to say that, especially to someone as innocent as me~" Arisu, who was up until that point had been silent, suddenly talked as the man who called himself "Our Father" started to preach to the group, though not for any reason other than her being somewhat annoyed by his grandiose act.

 

But that aside, Arisu felt that so far, this had been quite an underwhelming start for her "story", though that's probably due to her not doing anything much during the plane trip or before.

 

So probably, taking one or two fights before reaching Uganda would help her making her story more interesting.

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Outside Seraph Sanctuary

 

"Everyone on board!?" the pilot called without confirmation.  The cargo doors began to close.  The plane was lined with six parachutes, just in case.  Beside the parachutes, a post-it note read, "You may be Seraphs, but you are still human.  :)".  It was written in bright red letters for anyone to read.   Locks clicked loudly around the plane, and the engines roared, as the plane rolled down a strip of  sand.  Moments later, they were in the air.

 

"Gonna be a long flight," the pilot called over the planes loudspeakers.  There was a hint of discomfort in voice.  The door to the cockpit was locked from the inside.  "I would say get comfortable, but this is a drop plane.  A cargo plane.  Move about as you please."  It would take them twelve hours to arrive at Uganda.  With headwinds, turbulence, and nasty weather on the horizon, who could tell what was coming.  

 

Dreamscape, Tell Tale Circle

 

He watched, smiling as, one by one, his children left the area and were whisked away.  One at a time, they should arrive in the presence of Secil, who had already grown impatient.

 

???, Secil's Quarters

 

A glow of purple light drew his attention.  Secil turned around, staff in hand, to see who would greet him first.  Hopefully, father had sent someone useful.  The light began to fade, and the first figure came into view.  A woma--no.  A girl?  She was a child!  "Hmm!?  What in all of name's sake is this!?" he said as Alexandra stood before him.  He became enraged almost immediately.  He turned his head to the sky above.  It was pitch black in this place, and the outside landscape was too dark to see from atop this tower.  The only light emitted from the arrival of Titans, and the building on which they stood.  They were atop a tall, stone structure.  It was not structurally sound, crumbling over the minutes.  It was at least forty meters tall, and was oddly shaped.  There was a rounded bottom, much like a lobby, at the bottom level.  There were ten pillars that were standing through the structure, each with four spikes penetrating the fourth floor.  On the top floor, the pillars came to a mushroom, and shadowed the roof top, forming an incomplete globe around it.  At it's center, a magical blue page floated alone, behind Secil.  A blue hue surrounded it, and it was written in German.

 

"Father!" he cried out.  "Do you mean to mock me!?  Do not send me children to fight this battle!"  But Dream did not reply.  Instead, he smiled, more widely than before.  A grin crossed his face that was so sinister, the muscles in his jaw tore.  He could feel the anguish in Secil's cries.  It both excited and angered Dream.  The grin crossed Dream's entire face, literally, from ear to ear.

 

Meanwhile, a second showed up.  One. . . more acceptable than the last.  He wore a strange mask, and wielded an axe.  Perhaps there would be more like him.  "Good.  I'll be using you the most," Secil said to Jin.  A third followed, more cheerful than the others.  His behavior disturbed  Secil, who payed him not mind.  As the other Titans arrived, magical cameras spawned outside of their reach, occasionally swooping in for close-ups.  Then, a sudden burst of noise, bright lights, and colors, as Dream prepared the Stage for the world to see.  Fireworks went off behind the tower, and annoyed Secil.

 

"What is he doing!?"

 

Then, magical letters floated down from the sky, in gold, red, and white lettering.  Stage lights appeared from nowhere, and shined upon the title that read:

 

STAGE ONE:

 

CONCUSSION CRATER

 

Before long, the lights faded from the stage sign, and the words disappeared into nothing from whence they came.  Outside the Stage, the world was getting a grand view at the teams that would be playing.

 

United Nations Headquarters, 8:23 p.m.

 

The world was in uproar.  Especially Germany.  In the brief time that the Seraphs had left New Mexico, and the Titans had began moving to Stage One, history itself had begun to unwind.  The United Nations and it's surroundings began to reverse in place.  Persons who had walked through and left the United Nations were returning, until eventually, the evidence of the United Nations was gone.  The area began to revert into it's natural landscape.  Those still in the present were caught suddenly in the chaos, as the building collapsed around them, crushing innocents and grinding them to become dust.

 

Poland, 2014, 8:23 p.m.

 

Homes, office buildings, and structures of all kinds began to collapse, and turn into dust.  This landscape began to revert to one of it's previous states.  Soon, there were tanks lining the streets of Poland.  The bystanders sought a name to blame for the current chaos, but that name did not exist.  It was missing.  And because it was missing, lives were being lost and enslaved throughout Poland.  But Poland was not alone in their losses.

 

Saint Petersburg, Russia, 11:23 p.m.

 

More of them.  German Panzer Tanks.  They were everywhere.  Most of the Eastern hemisphere had begun to fall.  India's invasion had begun, Paris was under attack, and Egypt was barely holding it's borders.  It seems this page in the presence of Secil, had a nasty effect on the world.  China moved to assist with their own tanks and ground troops.  Meanwhile,the United States had planes being sent all over the world, in an effort to stop the German invasion. . . .

 

of what was now 1939.

 

Seraph Cargo Plane

 

He knew it was coming.  The Curator had told him.  They had just entered airspace over the Atlantic Ocean.  Seconds later they were surrounded by fighter jets from the United States.  They entered a strange formation, where two jets flew under the Cargo plane, and two surrounded it on either side.  "Cargo 2219, please state your intended purpose!" called one of the fighter jets.  "Do your best not to reply.  If you must, open the flood gates.  The Seraphs must reach Uganda."  "Uh, just dropping supplies to Egypt!" the pilot squeaked.  "No need to escort. . .uh, over?"

 

The jets scrambled, re-circling behind the Cargo plane.  "Cargo 2219!  There are no scheduled supplies for Egypt for six hours!  Please state your intended purpose, or we will open fire!"

 

The pilot began to panic.  "s***.  What do I do now!?"  "Uh. . .uh. . .heavy cargo on board!  Emergency supplies!  Going to. . .Paris?"

 

There was a final warning.  "Cargo 2219!  Return to U.S. Airspace immediately!  You are to be inspected!"

 

"No choice then."  "Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some unexpected turbulence and rough skies," the pilot called over loudspeaker, his voice breaking.  "We are approximately six hours outside of Uganda.  In order to alleviate time, we're going to be. . .undergoing some emergency practices.  In other words, if we're gonna make it, you've got a bit of work to do."  

 

Thirty thousand feet in the air, above nothing but water, the cargo plane's cargo door opened, and exposed the fighter jets behind them.  A loud whir came from two of the fighter jets flying level with the Cargo plane, and their machine guns opened fire.

 

Concussion Crater

 

The Seraphs couldn't see them, but they could see the Seraphs.  A magical monitor appeared before the Titans as they reached the Thunder Tower in Concussion Crater.  This act of danger against the Seraphs concerned Secil.  "If they die before they make it to the Stage, this will be for nothing!  What are you doing, Father!?"  But this was not for Secil's entertainment.  The Titans had wanted to see the Seraphs in action, and they would soon have the opportunity.

 

----------

 

Around the world, civil unrest.  German forces invading Russia, Europe, Africa, and India.  American forces had begun to retaliate in their allies defense, and the Seraphs were in the way.  Time had begun to unravel, and the year 2014 was no longer the present.  The year was 1939, and time was on a different path.  

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 "Cargo 2219!  There are no scheduled supplies for Egypt for six hours!  Please state your intended purpose, or we will open fire!"

 

"No choice then."  "Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some unexpected turbulence and rough skies," the pilot called over loudspeaker, his voice breaking.  "We are approximately six hours outside of Uganda.  In order to alleviate time, we're going to be. . .undergoing some emergency practices.  In other words, if we're gonna make it, you've got a bit of work to do." 

 

Archie was wondering if there was anything he could do to help. Fear was in him, despite his wanting to get rid of it for the world's safety. This plane was a sitting duck. (It was flying...) but there were no defense mechanisms, and it's not like the government of any nation gives a damn about their mission. He grabbed his parachute for what seemed to be caution for the inevitable. "Guess we can't say we're fellow patriots on a mission..." He stepped out of his seat. Still unsure why's he even doing this. He can't hurt these pilots, but he had no choice. He headed to cargo bay where the guns were firing. He pulled two cards out for this special occasion. He got on one knee, the wind blasting through his hair. He slammed one card on the bay floor. The card on the floor was non-other than a Nine of Spades, the compact home of the cyclops giant, known to Archie, as Niner. "Hey Niner, I'm sorry about earlier, it was a mistake, you gotta' believe me!" Niner crossed his arms, grunted, as If Archie was lying. "There's no time! Just listen, I need you to hold my legs!" He shook his head vertically, agreeing. He laid on his belly, and got a good grip on Archie's legs. The other card was revealed, an Ace of Hearts. But before the cards released, Archie took the dice. He threw them in-front of him, knowing they'd fly back behind against the wind. Bullets were scarring the walls, turning the plane into swiss cheese. The dice landed, and stayed very still. Nothing was rolled. It was the blank side. Archie suddenly got a little weak. A pint of blood drained from his body. As the brigade of Ace pilots flew out of the card like a swarm, they fought the jets like warriors. Archie turned his nine of spades card towards Niner. Niner evaporated, stretching back into the perfect size of the card. The Ace Card remained empty, letting the brigade fight a little. "I can't do all the damn work! A little help would be nice!" He yelled. "Maxwell, can you give us a shield with your writing magic?"

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Our Father

 

It had heard the announcement over the speakers within the cargo bay, it seemed as if they were to be stopped by some foolish non-believers. Suddenly, the gates slid open to reveal said non-believers and there metal birds that were also recognized as denying the Higher Power. With great swift, its hand rose to construct a shield of divine energy over the gates entry, stopping initial bullets from getting through. Naturally, it had waited for the card playing man to be pulled back within the craft before erecting his shield.

 

Push thy pursuers away with grace,

Force all who oppose your will away from thee,

By thine hand might truth shine through,

and might thy higher power stay well.

 

It seemed as if all Our Father was doing was praying for their lives, but then he placed his open palm at his side and thrust forward. The shield lowered so that a giant open palm made of divine energy could launch from the opening and destroy one of the plans on impact. Our Father cared not if the life of the pilot was lost, his carcass falling with the wreckage of his satanic metal bird. "Those who defy the Higher Power will NOT be able to stand in our way!" Our Father shouted, regardless if the pilots could hear him or not.

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It seemed the situation went from 0 to Oblivion rather quickly. Luckily he did not eat anything recently because it very easily could have been left in his shorts. Nevertheless now wasn't the time to be frozen in fear as the journey of the do gooders was about to come to a very abrupt close. Maxwell couldn't help, but be impressed at how Archibald lept forward into action. The fact that he could summon monsters and another group of fighters to combat the existing planes was awesome. Second, came the religious who seemed to quote scripture and with that he was somehow shielded their aircraft from a majority of the damage. Then the floating glasses blasted one of the planes out of the sky. 

These were definitely tough acts to follow, but Maxwell knew he had to do something. But this is where it got hard anything he could make dense enough to defend against machine gun fire would leave him totally drained. Anything that could shoot down a fighter jet is probably some intricate firearm that he wouldn't know the inner workings of. 
Wait...innerworkings! That's it! he shouted out loud as he figured out a method to counterattack the hellfire that was coming at them. He waved his hand and wrote BUNGEE CABLE in the air and made himself  a cable that connected to the seat he was in. He slowly made his way to the open cargo door. He looked at aerial battle that was taking place and then he took in deep breathe. 

First he wrote the word 
SMOKE in the air and with that what appeared to be a neverending stream of black smoke shot out of the word and quickly encompassed the aerial battle. Okay here goes nothing. He put his hand in front of the word smoke that kept blowing smoke and made another noun phase. PLATINUM JACKS. What happened next was hopefully not going to backfire horribly. What seemed to be countless little spikey toys made of pure platinum shot out of the noun phrase. Thanks to the speed of the plane they managed to be carried in wind and straight to the aerial battle. The jacks should've been small enough to take out the fighter jets thrusters from the inside out. Nevertheless it should help somehow and the longer this barrage continued the more he got out of breathe.

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Atlantic Ocean Airspace, 30,000 Ft.  5:50 p.m.

 

"This is Alpha Fox, guns free!  I repeat, guns free!" called one of the jet fighters to  the rest of his team.  The cargo bay had opened to reveal five. . .people?  It was odd, but according to the rules of the sky, this plane was not complying and had to be brought down.  They could not turn to their morals now.  Alpha Fox unleashed a barrage of heavy bullets through the cargo bay of the plane in front of him, but only moments later was he bombarded with mini-planes.

 

"Stay frosty!  Avoid those fighters!" he relayed.  Too late.  The mini-fighter jets struck, taking down one of the jets on his left, sending it barreling in a ball of fire, straight to the Atlantic Ocean.  Of course, this caught the attention of fellow Airforce Fighters in the area.

 

"What the hell just happened!?"

 

"I don't know, but I'm covering!"

 

Soon, six more fighter jets joined the fray.  Alpha Fox continued to fire, attempting to bring down the plane.  A pair of what appeared to be floating glasses drew near the cargo bay, and suddenly, a magical shield turned his bullets into dust.  "What the hell?"  Then, the shield lowered, and a glowing hand appeared out of thin air, crushing the engine in his jet.  "I'm hit!  I'm hi--" but his plain exploded from the brute force before he could pull his ejection cord.  Now, eight fighters chased the Seraph Cargo plane.  Now the fighters were in a panic, and well enough.  Another had appeared, this time writing signals into the air.  "Are they trying to communicate?  It's too late for that!"  The jets had begun arming missiles in an attempt to end the fight immediately.  Before they could launch, a sudden cloud of smoke billowed over them from the cargo plane.  "Is it going down?"  Blinded and trailing behind, three of the eight fighter jets were suddenly blasted with a shrapnel they couldn't identify.  Caught in the turbines of two jets, they spun out of control quickly, crashing into each other as they neared the ocean, and exploding.  One other suffered a less dramatic death, as the platinum jacks instead shredded his cockpit, and pierced his lungs, forehead, and stomach, killing him almost immediately.  His plane careened into a nose dive, and sank with the others.  Five fighters remained.  Missiles were armed by two of the five jets.

 

"Eagle One!  Fox 3!"

 

"Eagle Six!  Fox 3!"

 

Because of the smoke, only one missile succeeded in striking the plane, damaging the left wing.  The plane began to quickly lose altitude, and the Seraphs were still three hours outside of Uganda.  Now they were forced to buy time, in a situation where time was totally against them.  "Good hit!" called Eagle One.  "Save the rest of your missiles boys.  We've got a war to fight."  In lieu of other, more pressing matters, the fighters backed off to leave the Cargo Plane to it's own demise.  At this rate, they would enter Uganda Airspace at less than 500 feet.  That was when the Seraphs should have heard a sudden slam.  A rather, ominous, and "that can't be good" slam.  The door to the pilot's cockpit had been opened.  And he stumbled forward, falling to his knees.  "The plane," he wheezed.

 

He had been shot in all the confusion.  "Autopilot. . .someone. . .guide it. . ." There was a hole in his chest the size of a basketball.  The fact that he still managed to speak those last words was a feat in an of itself.  The Seraphs were now short one man, as their pilot died of his wound.  The plane's autopilot could not guide it properly for too much longer under the current conditions.  It was beginning to shut down, and the plane began to tilt.  Someone--anyone--had to enter the cockpit.

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This is teamwork. Archibald stepped up to the challenge. "Okay people, I never flew a plane before, I don't plan to learn, but I'm gonna make sure we crash with some style!" He screamed, "The chutes' won't be necessary!" He stepped into the cockpit, and grabbed the switches, and threw a card, not caring what he got. Anything would help right now. He threw his left arm out, hoping something helpful fly out. It was a 7 of Clubs. "F*** Yeah!" He let go for a moment and threw his arms one at a time. Another Ace of Clubs was played! More pilots flew out of the cockpit, ready for a battle that somewhat got less tense. He threw the other card, an Ace of Diamons! He then threw the dice, as they somehow ended up in his pocket again. He was on the edge of his seat, and he rolled the water droplet. "Yes Okay! Clubs and Diamonds Brigade, I need you guys to speed ahead, and drop the water into a valley or something, quick, I want a lake to crash in when I get there!" He heard a high pitched voice in his head "YOU GOT IT, BOSS!"  They flew out the back, and Archibald saw them speed ahead. 

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Dream, Tell Tale Circle

 

This was. . . interesting to say the least.  He had little doubt that they would die, but apparently, so did the Curator.  Dream could see his movements through the sands of Uganda.  This meant that the Curator also knew what was happening.  Everything seemed to follow the order of events written in the Table of Contents.  But then, so did most stories.

 

----------

 

Seraph Cargo Plane, 15 Minutes Outside Uganda

 

Archibald was the only one to step up to the challenge.  Bravely attempting to pilot the plane to safety--with no prior experience at that--he managed to keep it just barely hovering, as they approached 500 feet.  Entering Uganda airspace, they began to scrape past some government buildings, until the right wing was finally clipped.  The plane began to spiral, and it's rear erupted into a fireball.  The fire attempted to spread quickly, engulfing the cargo bay itself, forcing the Seraphs further into the death trap.  Flipping and turning, the plane plummeted.  Four hundred feet.  About tree fitty.  Two hundred feet.  One hundred.  But as the plane neared crushing impact, a sandstorm came to life, and a roar of what could only be identified as pure, unadulterated power, erupted from the Uganda desert.  There, the Curator had been waiting.  He assumed his strongest state, absorbing all life around him, and growing to an incredible height.  He caught the plane in it's spiral only moments before the Seraphs were to fail.   Grinding his feet into the sands, he braced to the impact, putting out the fire instantly with the sands at his side.  Flipping the plane right side up, the Curator used his free hand to pry open the cargo bay.  Looking inside the plane from it's cockpit, he saw Archibald.

 

"Did you pilot this?" he said in a booming voice.  The Curator was genuinely impressed.  He lowered the plane to the ground, and reverted back to his natural form.  He called into the cargo bay, waiting for the Seraphs sigh of relief.  "Come.  You narrowly made it.  There were only ten minutes remaining.  Your destination is just beyond these sand dunes," he said now standing in the cargo bay.  He pointed just due west of where he caught the plane.  "You will find a structure in ruins," he said referring to the gas station.  "Approach the man in white, and sign the documents he holds.  You will be immersed in a magical light.  Then you will be pulled into a world beyond my view.  It is there you must find the underlying cause of this distortion of time."

 

Dream, Third? Floor of Imagination Mansion, Urea's Chambers

 

"Well," he said skipping about the dank room.  "It seems I was right again," he said to the masked girl.  She took the mask down, revealing her long purple hair.  It dangled over her shoulders, covering her breasts.  She turned to face him, a cross look on her face as she stood in her pink panties and socks.  

 

"Tch."  She flicked a coin at him that she pulled from her socks.  "Well?  Aren't you going to ask?"

 

"Ask what dearie?" Dream tilted his head.

 

She glared at him, a grin crossing her face.

 

"Oh.  Oh!  Yes, yes!  I'm ever so curious," he said curling his lips.  "Who did you choose?"  

 

She snapped her fingers, and a test tube appeared from thin air, landing in her hands.  Inside of it, a hair.  Dream recognized it instantly.  "Aah.  Appropriate."  There was a disgusting intrigue coming from his tone.  "Then, you'll be taking to your own soon?" Dream asked, suddenly curious.  She shook her head.  "No.  I will wait for my brother.  Earth's customs say, ladies first.  However, I like to have a grand entrance for my subjects," she said playfully bowing.  He smiled, observing the many clones now drawing from their chambers.  "And them?"  "They'll come with me, of course.  For now, I'll wait to see how much of a blunder Secil performs."  Dream nodded, as they both stepped towards the Tell Tale Circle.

 

Uganda, 9:00 p.m., Abandoned Circle K Gas Station

 

The Curator had escorted them further.  He waited outside, as the Seraphs gathered before the glowing page in front of Doctor Blanc.  The Doctor held out a pen, and let it go.  It floated in mid air, before circling the group of Seraphs.  Stopping above the magical document now, it signed their names for them.  The Seraphs were surrounded by the same purple light that the Titans had been in, before having their existences destroyed and recreated inside the Concussion Crater.  And upon their arrival, they were greeted by the faint glow of a distant objective.  Too far away to be measured, and appearing almost days out of reach, the tower was their obvious destination.  But before their destination, each Seraph's palm was gifted a sheet of parchment, with notes about the area.

 

Concussion Crater, Night(!)

 

The landscape was desolate, and the skies were permanently dark and cloudy.  Mostly earthy, but it seemed that these dry plains were only one hundred meters wide.  On either the left or right of the Seraphs, were extremely steep slopes that curled up into the skies.  There were various jagged cliff sides that protruded from what appeared to be dugouts and caves inside of these steep slopes.  They possibly housed some of the areas native creatures.  With that many holes in the slopes, it was nearly suicidal to climb them.  On the ground, numerous, smaller craters that appeared to form from below the surface.  This suggested. . .worms?   And of course, drawn to the center of the crater, where the glowing tower resided, was a feint but obnoxious buzzing.  What appeared to be overgrown super wasps circled the tower, as many as six at a time.

 

On each Seraphs notes, there was a list of creatures.  They seemed to vary, but were mostly insects.  On the top of the pale parchment, in bold letters, read, "Concussion Crater Bestiary".  The following could be found:

 

  • Thunderstorm Barrel Beetle:  An enhanced Hercules Beetle.  Growing up to six feet in height and weighing up to 1200 pounds, these creatures travel in packs of no less than two.  Aggressive in nature, they curl themselves inside of a thick hide armor, before barreling towards their target.  They've often crashed with their brothers, temporarily knocking themselves unconscious.  Durability rating of A.
  • Black Lightning Centipede:  A wicked fast creature.  Not the strongest of the native monsters, but easily the most annoying.  Living underground, they are drawn to the various lightning strikes that occur inside the crater.  Be advised.  These creatures, if successfully struck by lightning, will be come charged, absorbing the strike and passing it along to their brethren.  Travels in packs of no less than five.  Passive in nature, until struck by lightning.  Durability rating of D.
  • Wunder Wasp: The only foreign creature to the Concussion Crater.  Introduced by master Dream, these creatures are the rulers of the land.  Traveling in packs of as few as twelve, and aggressive in nature.  They carry sharp barbs that, instead of injecting poison, dish out nearly 1000 watts of electricity to their target.  They are relatively fast, and are hard to hit with projectiles due to their speed.  Their wings flap so quickly, that they create a harsh piercing sound when gathered together.  Durability rating of B.
  • Kamikaze Firefly:  Possibly the second most annoying of indigenous creatures in the area.  Traveling in packs no larger than three, these creatures are just as their name implies, fireflies with the intent to kill or be killed.  They are the only creature who's size has not been increased, and can only be noticed by their tiny red glowing bottoms.  Caution.  If seen, do not engage.  Run!  Durability rating of ?.

There was no further information.  After completely reading the Bestiary, dozens of magical cameras surrounded the Seraphs, before floating up to an unreachable height, occasionally zooming in and panning off.  The games were about to begin.  A magical red arrow formed above the Seraphs, pointing directly at the tower, spinning over on it's side before disappearing again.  There was a sudden uproar of cheering and applause as the round's fireworks went off again, welcoming the Seraphs.

 

Outside the Crater, the Curator immersed himself in the sands again, waiting patiently for evidence of the Seraphs' success.  Or their defeat.  He silently meditated, invisible from the eyes of most.

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He didn't think he could do it. He didn't make it any body of water, but Archie couldn't be anymore happy to be alive. "I'm buying that son-of-a-bi*** a drink when this is all over!" He said happily. He took in the sights. A crater. It looked like Hiroshima came back to visit. He laughed, It hasn't even happened yet. He looked around, as if missing something. "Almost forgot," Archibald pulled out the the Aces that were used in the battle. The card image was empty, and held it into the air. It regenerated. It never regenerates. The card's beast supposed to come flying back in. He looked into the aces, and inside, pilots were fixing their planes, and tending to the wounded. "What the hell happened to you guys?" He said to the Aces. "We were hit pretty bad boss, didn't make it to the water, like you asked." A pilot said. Archie looked into the three cards, many pilots on crutches, some in wheelchairs, and some were being carried in body bags. The mini-pilot told him, "Only you brigade left to use is the Spades Brigade. Use it wisely. We gotta make the repairs. See ya' in a week boss." He then saluted, before continuing his work.  Archibald understood and nodded. He stuffed the note into his jacket pocket, and then he started to walk west as the curator pointed.

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