NexusWiki:Fiction Central/Revisions

It had been a massacre. Numerous bodies lay upon the ground in broken heaps, so freshly made that the carrion flies had not yet made their way to them. The Nexus Champion crouched over one of the bodies, her clients watching nervously behind her. This particular corpse was their friend, and they were itching for some payback. One person was almost impossible to find in this landscape, but that was where she came in. “He didn’t make it far,” she said, reading the strands that connected killer and killed with an expert eye to track the perpetrator. “And he didn’t come out unscathed. He’s trying to recover from his wounds, so if you hurry you should be able to catch him off guard. He’s three buildings down the way, in the old office supply warehouse. Oh, and… ” The two pulled out their weapons, hurriedly running out the door before she could say another word.

She shrugged as she finished, too late, “… he’s not alone.” Oh well, no skin off her back. She went back to studying the corpses, searching for some slightly easier prey.

The intense duel between the two supreme fighters of legend - Seraph and Eternal Soldier - was in its final stages. Both were masters of their arts of combat. Both struck with precision and evaded with elegance. The mortal's natural armor was every bit as resilient as the angel's divine protection. The angel's aerial agility was countered by the mortal's lightning speed on the ground. The angel's smites of Holy power were met by the mortal's channelling of the power of the Nexus itself.

The Eternal Soldier looked the Seraph in the eye. "See, angel! What has your morality given you that I cannot match with dedicated training? Dedication to war alone is what makes great warriors."

The mighty antagonists braced themselves for the last, simplest round. Tired and spent of magic, the time for tactics was long over. It was just a matter of taking the opponent's best punch and punching back harder. The two rushed towards each other and struck with all the power at their command. Fist met fist head-on, and the Seraph's punch blew the Eternal Soldier's arm right off from the shoulder. The winner was clear. The Seraph stood over his fallen opponent. "You are correct. And there is no dedication to war greater than the dedication of justice."

At last, a worthy opponent thought the Eternal Soldier, facing the Seraph. The portal had drained both their energies, so they knew they would have to rely on pure strength instead of magic. At once they charged at each other and each landed a powerful punch which would cripple a mortal. The Seraph staggered back several steps, but the Eternal Soldier was knocked clear off his feet. After regaining their footing, both rushed at each other again--and though the Soldier was more nimble and landed his blow before the Seraph, the angel's retaliation sent him sprawling. So it continued for several more rounds, until eventually the Seraph stood victorious over the Eternal Soldier. He may have been fast, and he may have been strong, but no matter how hard he hit, the Seraph always hit just a little bit harder.

The Dark Oppressor sat regal on her iron throne. Languorously, she twisted her impossibly beautiful face into a smile, the motes of fires she had in place of eyes flickering.

"Hear me!" she proclaimed in a resounding voice, and the demon mob fell silent. "Now, my minions, I shall show you how I punish those who fail me.” And, without a falter in her smile, she seized with both hands a cowering pariah who was laying prostrate and her feet. Instantly, although no wounds could be seen, an ear-splitting scream erupted from the mouth of the demon found at fault, and the hapless soul started to writhe in agony while life force was sucked out of him.

After a few seconds, when she deemed the punishment sufficient, she simply discarded the pariah who was left to crawl back brokenly into the mob. The Dark Oppressor then drew her hands together, concentrating; when she opened them again, a bright red gem crackling with magic sat on her palm.

She presented the gem to a meriting lieutenant and said to her awstruck audience, “But see how I can also reward those who pleased me.”

It had taken them weeks, but they'd finally tracked him down. This particular Demon was known for walking through walls to escape his hunters and turning invisible when cornered, so soldiers and sorcerers were positioned on all sides of the building. The Divine Champion entered the room warily, even if he knew his armor could hold against the Demon's claws. He uttered a spell to dispel any forms of concealment and spotted the Demon hiding behind a bookshelf in the lobby. The Champion walked over and tossed the shelf out of the way, revealing the Demon to the light.

"We have you completely surrounded, Demon. There is no chance of escape. Prepare to pay for your crimes."

The Demon was sitting down on the floor, with his head between his arms, almost as if he was resting. As soon as the Divine Champion finished talking, he started getting up slowly, really slowly, keeping his eyes closed and his head oriented towards the floor. Once he stood up, he turned his head towards his enemy and opened his eyes, with a sudden movement. As a grotesquely wide grin was slowly forming on the Demon's face, the Divine Champion shivered. Then, within a blink, the Demon simply disappeared. "What's this?" cried the Champion, immediately repeating his spell, but there was no concealment to reveal. The Demon was simply not there. "We had every escape cut off! Where on earth did he go?"

The Shepherd stood in front of the dilapidated slum. In recent days it had fallen to the corruption of the Horde, and it showed in the various infernal markings graffitied on the wall. The Shepherd knew when a place needed cleansing, and this was certainly such a place. The Shepherd raised her arms out, closed her eyes, then tapped into the divine magic inside of her. She began glowing, and soon the white aura that surrounded her began flowing into the very ground itself.

As more divine energy flowed into the slum, the infernal graffiti slowly began to fade. Dirtied windows slowly became cleaner. Faded paint became more vibrant. And a sense of hope began to permeate the land.

The usually tidy ponytail of the teenage girl was jumbled into a tangle of sweaty, blond locks.

“That felt…amazing!” she panted out of breath.

Her partner, an equally blond, teenaged boy who was laying at her side, looked up sheepishly. “Yeah,” he rasped in response.

“And you were right," the girl continued excitedly, "it really didn’t hurt, at all!" And she added, eyes pleading,“Can we do it again, please?"

The boy blushed. “You want another go, already?’ he demanded, surprised.“Well…ok, I guess.”

And, protected from the burn of angelic justice, the two mortals stood to climb up the slightly elevated mound of earth in the middle of these Lush Fields of Paradise, to play rolling-down-the-hill, again.

A small group of young Myrmidons had gathered to hear what battle-worn veteran of Nexal Wars had to teach them. "You all know how to use your weapons, have met your first demons and angels in battle and have noticed that they all have similar anatomy to humans like us, two legs, two arms, head and body. Some have wings or other mutations on them, but that's not important. They still have the same weak points as we have, head, heart and other places."

Nexus Champion called for one young man forward, "Now, I'll show you other places where to aim your blows so they know they've met men and women of Free Will in battle, and remember you for it."

The Divine Champion stood on the roof of the Tower of Courage, staring down at the idyllic grasslands far below. With a sigh, he glanced back over his shoulder at his new feathered wings, then shifted his gaze to the Seraph standing by his side.

"It's so far down," he said nervously. "I don't know if I can..."

"Go on." The Seraph's deep voice was warm with affection. "You'll get used to it."

The Divine Champion stepped to the edge and slowly stretched out his wings, shivering as the breeze whispered through his feathers for the first time. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then leapt from the tower. For one terrifying moment, he felt himself falling, wind rushing wildly past his face. Then he felt his wings strain, unused muscles flexing, and the sense of motion ceased. He peeked out of one eye, his face still tense, and saw the green hills of Paradise rolling smoothly below him. Contracting the new muscles, he managed a tentative flap of his wings, and he laughed in pure joy, all fear forgotten as he rose higher in the air.

I will never get used to this, he thought to himself.

Category: Pages with fiction added