TOS - Vol 2, Epilogue

The Overlord Saga

Vol II. Versus

Epilogue: Aftermath

Her eyes opened, finding herself not staring at the gaping black sky as she had been expecting. Finding herself staring at a ceiling, the Overlord turned, her body stiff and sore. How long had she been asleep? She did not know. What she did know was that her wounds were healing, which meant that either the Evocator or the Witch had been in contact with her at some point. She was in her bed, her head propped up against a pillow and her body submerged in covers. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten into the loose shirt and pants that she was in, but didn’t particularly care at the moment. She was alive, and that was all that mattered.

Forcing herself up and out of the bed, the Overlord stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. She grabbed a hold of a night stand for support, steadying herself before taking another step towards the bathroom, a weird sensation flowing through her. Looking over her shoulder at the rest of the room, she could have sworn someone was with her for a moment. She felt another presence in the room, but tried to ignore the feeling.

‘I suppose I’m just imagining things...’ she thought with an outwardly groan.

‘Or not.’ the Theurgist’s voice answered her. Startled, the Overlord looked over her shoulder again, though did not see his ghostly form behind her. Glancing to her left, she figured he was in the bathroom, though that added a few funny images. ‘No, silly... ghosts don’t use the bathroom.’ The Theurgist added with a ringing laugh in her ears.

“Where are you?” the Overlord asked, eyes flitting about the room suspiciously. “Why can’t I see you?”

‘I’m here.’

“Be more specific,” the Overlord retorted, walking into the bathroom. Her mind felt heavy for some reason- more burdened than normal. She still could see images shown to her from the Henosis spell, but some seemed more vivid than others. The Overlord realized that the nagging difference in the back of her mind was that she did not feel like herself. If anything, she felt as though she was someone different. Not enjoying the feeling, the Overlord turned on the faucet, rinsing her face gently before looking up in the mirror.

She thought she was going to scream.

Everything was normal, her hair the same, her facial features no different than before. The haunting words from the Nemesis rang in her ears as she look into her eyes, heart racing as she stood in her bathroom, unmoving. Her left eye was green, the same piercing color as before. However, her right eye was not the same color as her left, having altered to a blue tint, the pupil even barely ringed with an amber color. She startled, throwing herself back and away from the mirror. But as she looked again, she realized that it was truly there- truly permanent and nothing of her imagination.

“Holy crap,” the Overlord breathed, panic flooding her veins.

‘We’re in this together now...’ The Theurgist’s voice was not coming from somewhere else, the Overlord realized. It was coming from within her very mind. She turned, looking around wildly as if hoping to find him somewhere else. ‘... I didn’t know this would happen... But...’

“What... Why is this happening?” she asked, feeling like a very small, confused child.

‘Somehow... Our souls merged together. I’m within you. I don’t know how this happened except we never parted during Henosis. Emily... Calm down...’ he was trying to re-assure her. She didn’t think it was helping.

“Can we... un-merge?” the Overlord asked, looking in the mirror at her new blue eye. “Someone’s bound to notice this. And... I can’t really have you talking in my head. It’s weird.”

‘I... I don’t know how to fix this...’ the Theurgist admitted, ‘I’m sorry...’ She could feel that he was not lying and lowered her head. Frustrated, she slammed her fist into the counter, her bangs falling in front of her right eye.

“Damn it!”

“Overlord?” a voice called from the bedroom. The mutual thought of ‘Crap, someone’s coming’ ran through both the Theurgist and the Overlord and she continued to allow her bangs to fall over her eye. Walking calmly from the bathroom to the bedroom, the Overlord caught sight of the Ninja-Lord, standing there with her arms folded. “You’re awake!”

“Er... Hello...” the Overlord scratched the back of her neck. ‘This is really awkward timing...’ She sensed that the Theurgist agreed with her. “I just woke up. I... What’s happened?”

“You killed him,” the Ninja-Lord said flatly. “Do you remember that?” When the Overlord nodded, the Ninja-Lord continued, “The Insurgents are going to leave tomorrow morning. Thomas wanted to stay long enough for you to gather your strength, but the Insurgents and the Underlings haven’t been getting along...” Her voice trailed off momentarily before picking back up again, “We’ve begun working on the reconstruction. You’ve been asleep for three days. We had no idea when you’d come back to us.”

“Three days!?” the Overlord sputtered, “What?!”

“You needed your rest. When we found you, I thought you were dead,” the Ninja-Lord put a hand on the Overlord’s shoulder, “You looked awful. The Nemesis didn’t look any better, though. His body’s been taken care of. The rest of DIB either defected to our side or fled. Overall, the morale is high and everything seems to be in order... Why are you shaking?”

“I... I just... Really need some food...” the Overlord stammered. ‘Smooth.’ the Theurgist commented in amusement. ‘Shut up.’ came the rude reply. “I’ve been out of it for three days, right? Some pizza sounds... Really freaking good right about now. Think you could have that ordered for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” the Ninja-Lord nodded, “Now... About your scythe and your staff... Well, the scythe was demolished sometime during your rampage against the Nemesis. And the staff? Well... I think it exploded or something. Either way, the Swordmaster and Fish are looking at them... er.. what’s left of them... right now. They’re thinking about forging the two together to make you a new weapon. How does that sound?”

“As long as it’s not something lame. Like... I don’t know. A broadsword. Or a mace,” the Overlord chuckled. ‘Like you could LIFT a broadsword.’ the Theurgist added sarcastically. “I’ll be looking forward to what they have in planned. And I’ll be addressing the Underlings tonight during dinner. I might as well make my awakening known to the rest of my Fortress so we can begin getting our old routines underway. Although... I do think that some re-arranging of the Fortress is sorely needed.”

“What do you mean by that?” the Ninja-Lord asked, frowning.

“You’ll see...” the Overlord replied, a smile playing about her lips, “Let’s just say... Being in exile made me re-think a few things. And I’d like to see some change around here. Don’t get me wrong... First chance I get to go steal souls, I’m taking it. I think it’s time to expand our army, anyways.”

“You... Have a lot of plans for the next few months, don’t you?” the Ninja-Lord raised an eyebrow.

“You have no idea...” the Overlord replied smugly, “Anyways... So... About that pizza...”

“Got it, got it,” the Ninja-Lord smiled and slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind her quietly. The Overlord’s smirk faded completely and immediately as the Ninja-Lord left. She turned and promptly walked back into the bathroom, moving her bangs back to reveal the bright blue eye.

‘Colored contacts. They’re a life-saver,’ the Theurgist commented.

‘Alexi... I’ll find a way to revive you. I promise. Even if I have to claw my way through Earth and the rest of the worlds to find a way. I owe it to you to revive you,’ the Overlord closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

‘It’s not me anymore. And it’s not you either. It’s us. We’re one in the same. I am you. You are me. We have the same memories. We have the same mind. The same body...’ Alexi replied calmly.

‘What do you suggest? That I live my whole life with two voices in my head?’ the Overlord demanded quietly, glaring into the mirror. ‘I will not.’

She felt the Theurgist agree with her, ‘Then find a way. But keep in mind that it’d be best to keep this silent. To ourself... if you will... But until then we are the same person... We are one.’

‘We are each other.’

‘We are connected.’

‘We are the Overlord.’

TOS - Vol 2, Pt 4, Ch 38

The Overlord Saga

Vol II. Versus

Chapter 38: Henosis!

The rooftop. She didn’t know why she was feeling so nostalgic. She realized she hadn’t been up on the roof since the day she had thwarted the Uberlord’s plans for the second time. Standing there with her staff in hand, the Overlord looked out across the rooftop, which was mostly covered in ice, and focused in on the lone figure looming near the edge. Why had she not been surprised? “You’re always full of melodrama, Warwick. If you had hoped to hide-” the Overlord announced her presence rather loudly, boots careful not to slip too far on the ice. She walked forward, calmly, the wind blowing through her light brown hair.

“If I had hoped to hide... I would be gone already,” the Nemesis turned to face her, scythe in hand. She noticed how he was wounded, but seemed perfectly able to fight, still. Though she fought to keep herself upright, she knew she was openly limping. How was it that he was able to continue fighting? She didn’t understand where he got his strength from, but assumed it was due to some malevolent spirit or spell. Or perhaps it was a forbidden magic, one that not even the Insurgent Leader had dared to look into.

“You are... Not surprised to see that I’m alive and well?” the Overlord asked, voice level.

“I expected nothing less,” the Nemesis’ lip curled in a sinister smile, “But I wonder... How long will your body last in this state? You look a tad worse for the wear.”

“How is it that you’re still alive?” the Overlord asked, voice matching his in emotionlessness, “The fact is, Warwick... You are not greater than I am. We’re equals. In every way possible.”

“So this war... this fight between us will never end?” the Nemesis asked, eyebrows raised. “An interesting concept. So... Which are you, Overlord? Famed SVC member... Phoenix General? Are you Superman or are you Lex Luthor? Because in this light, you’re no less cheesy than one of those virtuous, caped heroes you claim to hate so much.”

“I’m the protagonist. But I’m no hero,” the Overlord responded icily, taking a challenging step forward, “I’ll never be a hero.” Both ends of her staff were alight in flame now, melting the ice around her. The Nemesis smiled, albeit sadly at his spirited foe.

“You’re so powerful. It almost saddens me to kill you.”

“No. Nothing can stop me now.”

“So you claimed before...”

“But this time... I mean it.”

The Overlord charged forward suddenly, staff twirled in her hand. As the Nemesis pushed forward a few paces, the Overlord slammed the staff into the ice, the head of the weapon standing up a little past her head in a blazing green flame. Eyes narrowed in anger, the Overlord inhaled a deep breath, hands folding together, as if to pray. The Nemesis continued charging at her, foolishly rearing his arm back to throw the scythe at the Overlord. Her eyes closed, yet her voice rang out above even her enemy’s battle cry.

“Henosis!”

She opened her eyes, catching sight of the scythe as it flew at her. ‘I’m going to die!’ she thought despairingly for a moment, but felt something change within her, as if a stirring in her heart. Everything went into darkness for a moment, her vision blanking out entirely. She pushed everything into the words she had yelled, her energy forced into her hands as she folded them together. She felt as though she was falling back, about to slam the roof tiles with her back. Though everything had faded, she saw glimpses of images- a golden gate, a magnificent city, and the depiction of a great tree within a garden. She saw flashes of winged angels, radiating with halos and singing praises to God.

Floods of emotion swelled within her, shaking her entire form. Though she was absent to reality, she felt herself shudder at the image of the Nemesis, looming in the shadows, next to him, her own broken self. Was she seeing through the Theurgist’s eyes, into his memories? She saw, next, the Evocator, crying into her chest and hugging her tightly. She saw a white laboratory, with jars filled with liquid, a steel table with patches laying on the surface. She wondered where this place was, and why it was significant. The Overlord felt the Theurgist’s presence alongside something holy, something so powerful she could not describe it. The images before, she realized now, had been through God’s own eyes. Images of Heaven, of Eden- things that seemed so far away from the rooftop.

Within her mind, she saw the Theurgist for a moment, standing there with an outstretched hand. As she took it, she looked past him, blinded suddenly by a light. Shielding her eyes, she looked away, unable to stare into it. As the light began to overwhelm her and the Theurgist, she closed her eyes...

... And found herself on the rooftop once more, unscathed and standing before the Nemesis, a sudden rush of energy flowing through her. There was a searing pain in her back and she sank to her knees, bending over as something ripped through her shirt and armor, followed by another and another. As it happened again and again, she allowed herself a scream, hands clutching themselves in agony. Had she done something wrong? Would God not accept her as the Eve for Henosis?

She felt as though she had many arms suddenly, and cast a fleeting glance over her shoulder to meet a rather powerful white wing. Startled, the Overlord felt the pulsing beat of seven wings, lifting her up into the sky as she felt her vision fading in and out of view. It was as if something was taking control of her- something akin to Saevio, but stronger, and with the sensation of serenity and benevolence. Relenting, the Overlord allowed the force to take control of her, knowing that this was what she had been intending to do in the first place.

Her consciousness found itself in a daydreamed state. Images flashed before her eyes, but primarily, she was focused in on concepts and ideas. Memories consumed her thought process. She saw things that she had never seen before, assuming they were the memories of someone else. There was a burning bush and a house somewhere in the Second Realm. She saw Lucifer falling from Heaven, hurled into Hell. There was the image of an Overling Council meeting that followed.

Vaguely, she saw the Nemesis retaliate, as if receiving a blow from something. Magic was spilling forth from her hands, consuming him and torturing him. He screamed as though he was being burned to death by the light, the scythe lost somewhere amidst the haziness and his machetes doing nothing to stop her. More images flooded through her mind. Though she tried to shut out the knowledge and the memories being poured into her, she could not. Another few images of the Nemesis came into view, her hands grasping his neck and lifting him over the edge of the roof. She wanted to throw him. She wanted to watch him fall, but he counter-attacked, one of his machetes clipping on of the feathery wings.

An image of the world its creation soon followed, and the Overlord tried to snap herself out of it, fearfully clawing away from the emotions being forced into her. She gasped, physically, drawing back and away from the Nemesis. As he lunged at her, some greater power blocked the blow with magic, and sent him flying as though he were a ragdoll. The next series of images depicted a burning castle, and some skeletal, fiery spirit that roared atop its spires. Soon after, there was a massive bird atop a mountain, shrieking loudly. A swirling storm over her head, and a village, sacked and ruined beneath a cliff. She wondered where these fearful images came from, knowing in her heart that they were not things of the past. As the Overlord attempted to, for the second time, evade the memories and shut them out, she caught a glimpse of the Nemesis charging at her once more, blood smeared across his face. Both hands lurched forward, driving some slicing spell through his middle and impaling him.

The world went blindingly white then. For what seemed like a century, the Overlord was suspended in nothingness, the silence ringing in her ears. She felt nothing, saw nothing, and heard nothing. For the moment, the Overlord couldn’t even tell if she was sitting up or standing. She merely gazed at the nothingness, not able to move or blink. The only thing she knew she could do was breathe, and that was satisfying enough to know she was still alive.

And then it all came into view- the black sky, the towers on the roof, and everything seemed even more clear now than ever. She stirred, rolling over onto her side before standing up. The wings had faded. The light and the images were gone. Her energy was almost spent, and she found herself fighting to stay on her feet. The Overlord didn’t even know if she could speak- she just knew that her mind was her own again.

A hobbling step and she found the Nemesis, laying on his back with blood splattered entirely over his broken body. Eyes still open, he stared at her, alive and beginning to rise from the ground. The Nemesis choked on his own bloody saliva. He began to push himself up onto his knees, “W-wait...” He tried to beg, blood seeping from his mouth. The Overlord knew he was mortally wounded. “S-stop...”

The Overlord pushed herself forward, both feet numbed. Her balance was off, her eyes unable to focus properly. Everything seemed hazy, as though she were dreaming still. Kagi was in her hand- she wasn’t even sure how it had gotten there, but it glittered in the dim light that was cutting through the black clouds. She walked to the gravely injured Nemesis, eyes ablaze.

“Dear Lord...” the Nemesis rasped for air. The Overlord merely paused to hear what he had to say, “Y-your eyes...” She didn’t understand his babbling. And frankly, she did not care to understand.

“You...” her voice was very weak, faded, but still full of bitter anger, “You killed me inside.” Her last remaining ounce of strength was spent reaching back with Kagi, and plunging the blade directly into his chest, her weight throwing her forward, falling onto him. Both the Overlord and the Nemesis fell to the ground, covered in blood. The Overlord’s hands slipped from their grip on the sword’s hilt. Though she could barely see, the Overlord caught a glimpse of some black smog drifting from the Nemesis’ chest, fleeing his corpse. Vision leaving her entirely, she allowed herself a few panicked shallow breaths before falling unconscious.

---


The main hall was quiet, full of anticipation and tension. The Ninja-Lord had returned to the gathered Overlings as soon as she had secured the rest of the Fortress. Though the bodies of the DIB members had yet to be recovered (except the Insurgent Leader’s body, the Rebel Commander’s body, and Blondie’s), the DIB forces had been chased out of the Fortress by the ANF forces. The Captain and the Lieutenant had seen the rest off alongside the Ninja-Lord and we busy securing the remains of the outer wall along with the Sabotage Team.

In the main hall, the Witch was attempting to heal Sexist’s wounds, though he protested loudly. The Animal Tamer was looking for Nard, who had gone missing during the battle and was frantically making McCoy and Fish help her search. The Soul-Keeper had found Christine and had vanished, despite the imminent danger that the Nemesis posed. The Advisor had taken charge of the Overlings in his absence, and was standing guard at the end of the stairs with her machine gun.

“The Overlord said you had to leave!” the Insurgent Leader was attempting to get the Advisor to lead the ANF forces from the Fortress.

“We’re not budging until she returns!” the Advisor argued stubbornly, hands on her hips. “We’re not just going to leave her!”

“The clouds are dispelling. That’s always a good sign...” the Scholar observed out of a shattered stained glass window. “I’d say she’s done it! We need to find her immediately! She’ll be wounded... Or, Heaven forbid, worse!”

“I’ll go look for her,” the Ninja-Lord nodded to the Scholar, “Twin! Let’s go!” She waved at the Twin, hopping over the Advisor and running up the stairs nimbly. The Twin merely pushed past the disgruntled Advisor, bow still in hand.

“Still... Something doesn’t seem right...” the Swordmaster stroked his goattee, looking around the messy main hall. “I still sense that something... Dark... is here...”

Sweeping down the stairs and past both the Ninja-Lord and the Twin, a swirling black mass of darkness came spiraling down into the floor of the main hall. The Swordmaster grabbed a dagger and threw it immediately at the black entity, dismayed as the dagger merely soared through it, not harming it in the slightest. The Scholar pulled the Witch and Sexist back, eyes wide as she watched the large smog. “That thing... No! Someone, stop it!” she screamed, watching as the smog made a beeline for the pillar of ice incasing the Theurgist’s body.

There was a blur of motion and something shot out at the ice, smoldering it in flames. Rearing back as though it had been struck, the black smog released a screaming noise, the fire keeping it at bay. The flames melted through the ice, devouring the corpse that held it within and destroying the preserved Theurgist’s body. At the end of the hall, stood the Evocator, still dropped in a fighting stance as she glared at the black smog.

“You’ll never have him...” the Evocator whispered, her palms formulating another spell. A rush of light and the black smog was cut into, dissipating as though it was being devoured from within by the light. Final screams tore through the air- the screams of the Nemesis’ dark spirit. As it faded, finally, the Evocator stood firmly, dark eyes focused and calm.

“What... What was that thing?” the Witch asked, arms folded, “It seemed so... Unnatural...”

“The Nemesis’ spirit. Attempting to find a host to live in. No wonder he kept the Theurgist’s body here for so long. It was his back-up plan,” the Scholar looked at the Witch, “The Evocator eliminated it...” She gazed back at where the Evocator stood, silently watching the fire as the Theurgist’s body burned within it. Head lowered, she said nothing, but calmly watched the flames.

“Her last duty to him...” the Witch whispered.

“The Overlord will be on the rooftop,” the Scholar advised the Ninja-Lord and the Twin, “Bring her here. The war is over. We have won!” As the Ninja-Lord and the Twin ran off to find the Overlord, Jamie ran out to the gardens to announce the news. The Scholar cast a glance out of the window, watching at how the clouds seemed to disperse, giving way to the usual twilight sky of the Second Realm.

“Eric...” the Insurgent Leader bent down next to him, a hand on his shoulder, “You look ill... Are you okay?”

Sexist’s hand was over his chest, a grimace on his features, “Yeah... I’ll be fine...” He stood up, thanking the Witch for her efforts at healing him, “The war is over... I didn’t think it would turn out this way.”

“No one did,” the Swordmaster replied, “I’m a realist. I didn’t think any of this was possible.”

“We’ll begin rebuilding as soon as we can...” the Advisor looked at the ruined main hall, “It will take awhile, but we can do it... We can make everything the way it used to be. Look! The ice is melting away!” She pointed at the ice that clung to the ceiling, and that laced the staircase. The Animal Tamer laughed, scratching one of Otto’s ears.

“Everything’s going to be okay after all...” the Grasshopper breathed in a sigh of relief, “I knew it would be, I guess... With you guys... We always figure out how to make things okay.”

“You’re going to be a fine Overlord when you’re older,” the Advisor smiled at the Grasshopper, putting an arm around her.

“This is going to have to go into the records! I need to record this all in my files!” the Scribe exclaimed despairingly. “And we’ll need a title for this war! Oh... How about... The War of Fire and Ice? The tales of how the Phoenix General slew the malevolent Nemesis and his dragon horde?”

“Sounds good to me,” the Witch nodded confidently, “And eh, who knows? I might be sticking around more. You guys are a little more fun than staying by myself. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not!” the Animal Tamer exclaimed, hugging the Witch with such speed that it threw the Witch off-balance. “You can stay here as long as you like! ... Just so long as you don’t turn me into a toad.”

“I’ll do my best to refrain,” the Witch remarked dryly.

TOS - Vol 2, Pt 4, Ch 37

The Overlord Saga

Vol II. Versus

Chapter 37: The Unexpected Factor

The Nemesis had won. Though the majority of the Fortress had been secured, the Nemesis had won. In his hand, swirling mystically and lighting the darkened office, was the Overlord’s soul. It was ordinary in appearance- I mean, as far as souls went. Though he’d expected something a tad more grand, it still gave him that sensation of triumph. He grinned, laughed a bit, back turned to the doorway. By now, he had presumed the rest of DIB as deceased, and this left him without the weights that had been holding him down. He was free from the Dark Ice Brotherhood, left to stand as the new Overlord. Except, perhaps he’d come up with a better title than she had. Something more fitting.

But that was where the Nemesis had gone wrong in his plans. True enough, the Overlord lay, unconscious, without her soul and willpower to fight against him. His presumptions, though, created error, and from that error birthed the revival of hope. The climax of the story was not over. Turning at the sound of footsteps, the Nemesis continued to hold the Overlord’s soul in one hand, her body motionless, though still alive. The darkened hallway revealed a silhouette, thin, but strong. Brief light from the Overlord’s soul showed a sparkle, a glint- a sword.

“Who...?” the Nemesis questioned, pale ice narrowed in confusion.

“Warwick,” the Insurgent Leader stated, stepping into the office with as much of a warrior’s swagger as he could manage. His muscles were tensed, Muramasa in hand, and his eyes were locked upon the Nemesis. “Put her soul back.”

The Nemesis was taken aback. Shuffling a step back, he watched the small blonde take a few more steps forward, bristling at the armored warrior. “What is this?” the Nemesis inquired, eyebrows quirked, “A challenge? A betrayal? Did you think you could double-cross me, Thomas?”

“I did think I could. And it looks like I managed it just fine,” the Insurgent Leader’s tongue was a sharp as a whip. The Nemesis was almost reminded of the Overlord- almost. Muramasa was held at a battle stance now, the Uberlord’s old blade radiating off the golden light. The Nemesis set the golden sphere onto the desk, its light the only thing in the room.

“You’re a lot of talk for a munchkin,” the Nemesis sneered, “Dare you bite the hand that feeds you?”

The Insurgent Leader responded by swiping at the Nemesis, both hands fastened upon Muramasa’s hilt. A wave of darkness spew from the blade, knocking the Nemesis back. Charging forward, the Insurgent Leader slammed the Nemesis into the rail, almost knocking the lanky warrior over the edge. The Nemesis retaliated, slamming a fistful of ice into the Insurgent Leader’s face. Staggering back, the Insurgent Leader was blinded for a moment, enough time for the Nemesis to grab his scythe and make a strike. A flailing arm knocked the head of the scythe away, the Insurgent Leader able to gather enough footing to still himself. With a free hand, he sent another wave of darkness at the Nemesis, gritting his teeth together in frustration. The Nemesis swiped his hand in a chopping motion, the waves drifting away.

Slicing through the air, the scythe met Muramasa in a resounding clang of metal. The Insurgent Leader threw his back into the blow, pushing against the Nemesis’ scythe with all of his strength. Though the Nemesis knocked him back, the Insurgent Leader twisted around, longsword striking the Nemesis’ shoulder and denting his armor. The Nemesis cringed before sending an icicle at the Insurgent Leader, shouting, “I liked it better when you were on my side!”

“I liked it better when you were gone!” the Insurgent Leader roared, slamming his sword into the floor. In an extravagant arm gesture, the Insurgent Leader released a spiraling, violet smog, the mouth transforming into a venomous snake’s silhouette. The Nemesis’ scythe sliced through it’s mouth, destroying it in one hit. But as he recovered, the Insurgent Leader sent another strike in, this time a slashing wave of dark magic. As the Nemesis’ cape was torn away from him, the Insurgent Leader pulled Muramasa from the floor and charged once more, clashing against the scythe.

The Nemesis spun around the Insurgent Leader this time, aiming for behind the kneecap. Leaping up into the air, the Insurgent Leader dealt a hefty kick to the Nemesis’ face, sending him back a ways. “You should’ve just stayed missing,” the Insurgent Leader rounded on the Nemesis as the armored warrior dropped back into a fighting stance. With a scoffing chuckle, the Insurgent Leader aimed Muramasa for a stab, “It’d have made things so much easier.”

“For whom? You? The worst hero in history?” the Nemesis taunted coldly.

“I’m her brother. No one messes with her except me,” the Insurgent Leader retorted, stabbing forward with his sword. The Nemesis leapt into the air, sending down a shower of icicles. In one upward swoop, the Insurgent Leader annihilated the icicles, his dark eyes narrowed in concentration. This fight was getting nowhere, he feared.

“We were all siblings at some point. Though maybe not by blood. I was lucky to break away from that,” the Nemesis sneered after he landed, turning to face the blonde.

“The teachings from Tamashii still live in today. In me. In her. In you, too, Warwick,” the Insurgent Leader held up Muramasa in one hand, “The stakes may have changed and the times may be different, but I know the old you is still in there... Past the armor and icy demeanor, but still in there. And she knows it’s there, too.”

“Are you counting on me to go through some sappy change of heart and forget this?” the Nemesis asked mockingly, “Because it won’t happen. Thomas, I’ve already won. I already have her. And you can be added to the collection, too. Either way, I’ve dominated the unbeatable Overlord. I’ve secured my throne. What more must I do to prove to you that your quarrel with me is futile?”

“Either you die or I die. Someone doesn’t leave this battlefield alive,” the Insurgent Leader retorted and charged forward, “And I refuse to die when my sister needs me!”

“Such loyalty to the one you hate... Why?” the Nemesis challenged, lifting his hand. As he did so, a spire of ice shot up from the ground, nearly impaling the Insurgent Leader. As the nimble warrior dodged the ice, he bounced off the wall and struck the Nemesis in the side, sending both ex-ninjas falling to the ground. The Nemesis kicked the Insurgent Leader off and over his head in a fluid motion, grabbing his scythe and smacking the Insurgent Leader in the head with its butt.

“Blood runs thicker than water,” the Insurgent Leader rolled over and jumped to his feet.

“You’ll see how thick blood runs when I’m through with you,” the Nemesis snorted.

“That didn’t sound right... At all,” the Insurgent Leader remarked, summoning seven black orbs that circled around him. One by one, the orbs flew at the Nemesis, who knocked them each in turn away. After the final orb was struck down, the Insurgent Leader struck, blade cutting through a portion of the Nemesis’ armor. As the Nemesis staggered back, the Insurgent Leader struck him in the helmet with the pommel of his sword.

‘FINISH HIM!’ something seemed to scream into the Insurgent Leader. Poising the sword to stab down into the Nemesis’ chest, the Insurgent Leader began to stab when the Nemesis grabbed Muramasa’s blade, the edge cutting his hands deeply. With a flick of his wrists, the Insurgent Leader flew overhead, landing on his back with a heavy thud. The world was dizzying for a moment, but the Insurgent Leader rolled over, rising to his feet slowly in time to see the Nemesis discard Muramasa, the longsword almost falling over the edge of the rail.

“Now where were we?” the Nemesis turned to face the Insurgent Leader, scythe in his hands.


---


The world was white. It was stereotypically white. Blindingly so, to the point that the Overlord turned over, her head throbbing painfully. She wasn’t sure why she even bothered to open her eyes- she knew she was dead. But when she found whiteness instead of the presumably dark pits of Hell, she was astounded... then a tad disappointed. She pushed herself up, looking around the emptiness and briefly wandering if she had ended up in some remote part of the Matrix. It was highly doubtful, however, that such had happened, and decided to rise to her feet. As she did this, a form passed by her, hard to see due to the lighting, but recognizable as a woman.

“Hey!” the Overlord held up a hand, looking at the woman as she walked away. She wasn’t unordinary looking. Her eyes were green, her hair blonde, though the Overlord could tell it was dyed. As the woman looked at her, the Overlord felt a sudden overwhelming sensation of recognition. “Do I know you?”

The woman didn’t respond. She merely looked at the Overlord, green eyes unblinking for a minute at least before she seemed to realize that she was staring. As she turned away, the Overlord asked, “Am I dead?”

“No.”

‘So she does talk,’ the Overlord thought, but as she began to say something else, the woman vanished. As the Overlord blinked, she was gone. Simply gone. There was no trace, and as the Overlord reached out to touch where the woman had been standing feet away, she found emptiness. She found nothing. Turning away in dismay yielded catching sight of the Theurgist, who looked, for once, to not be transparent at all. He looked real- alive, if you will. This caused the Overlord to be taken aback- maybe the woman had been lying? “So I am dead...”

“No, you’re fine, actually,” the Theurgist remarked, “You’re just unconscious right now. But don’t worry. Everything will make sense later. You didn’t bother reading my letter to you, did you? I could’ve told you this was going to happen.”

“Thanks...” the Overlord said dryly, “Thanks for mentioning it to me to begin with. Like when we were getting troops. Or when you were telling me the Nemesis was Warwick. Could’ve mentioned it then. Why didn’t you?”

“I figured you knew.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“It’ll have to suffice. There’s nothing you can do about it now.”

“Then that’s it? He wins, I lose?”

“No.”

“No?”

The Theurgist chuckled, hands in his pockets as he looked down, “Oh Overlord, you’re too funny.” He chuckled again, stroked his goattee, then said, “The world comes to moments like these once per century. Do you know what these moments are? They’re called... A crisis. More or less. Critical moments in the universe. Where everything falls on one action. God created an action to be... well, for lack of a better word, acted so the universe wouldn’t collapse. And we all know the Nemesis will screw things up to the point that it does collapse, so the Nemesis is the crisis, here...”

“Why are you telling me this?” the Overlord asked, “What are you babbling about?”

“The answer to life. The universe. And everything,” the Theurgist retorted.

“42?” the Overlord quirked an eyebrow.

“Better. Henosis,” the Theurgist folded his arms, “When I was studying magic, I came across it many times. It’s a spell, as you know, that binds a mortal to God himself. Granting unlimited power. Now... I thought, in my naivity, that a single mortal could summon God himself to the battlefield. I realized after reading several texts in the Afterlife Library- great place, you should check it out once you die- and I realized that such a spell was actually given to Adam and Eve. Which means that magic has existed for a very, very, very long time...”

“Okay, you kinda lost me... but keep going. Cut to the chase,” the Overlord folded her arms as well. “Adam and Eve?”

“Henosis... Needs an Adam and an Eve. A man and a woman. It can only be completed by a man and a woman. Because that’s the way God intended it to be,” the Theurgist said seriously. “That is why I died, Overlord. Because I tried to do this by myself. And you know... You’re not alone. And you don’t have to do this by yourself.”

“Are you saying I need to find a guy and do a Henosis with him? ... That sounds dirty,” the Overlord frowned, “What guy? What are the requirements?”

“Uhhh, hi, nice to meet you, Overlord, I’m the Theurgist, I’m a boy,” the Theurgist held out his hand with a chuckle. The Overlord took it, smiling wryly to her deceased friend, “And I can still perform the spell. I know I can. I just need you to be the Eve.”

It was a lot of absorb. The Overlord’s memories flashed before her eyes- of the Theugist’s last moments before seeming to explode in white light. Was this the Henosis spell? Was it a sacrifice? She knew her soul was gone now. Captured, and she was useless at this point. Why was he telling her all of this? There had to be another who could accomplish this task- the Sorceress, the Witch, or even the Evocator. Someone with more knowledge in magic.

“... We don’t have to be naked, do we?” the Overlord inquired in all seriousness.

“... Yes,” the Theurgist nodded, then cracked a rather humored grin at the Overlord’s appalled expression, “No. I need... for you to wake up. And to be able to fight. Can you still muster enough strength to do that?”

“In the real world?” the Overlord asked, voice bitter with regret. Had he not already figured it out? She was useless to the ANF now. She was the Nemesis’ servant. More likely than not, she’d awaken to find herself chained in the Dungeons, the attack on the Fortress futile in the bitter end. The rest of the DIB council might’ve been eliminated, but the head of the army still remained. “He’s taken my soul, Alexi. I-I can’t do anything, now. The task falls to someone else... Someone who can succeed where I’ve failed.”

The Theurgist merely smiled at her, his blue eyes glittering knowingly. “Do not tell the psychic what is to happen or what has happened. Because he already knows.” In a flash, just as the woman had before, the Theurgist faded from view, leaving the Overlord alone in the blank world.

---


Muramasa and the scythe clashed once more. The Insurgent Leader pressed against the blow, dark brown eyes narrowed in rage. ‘I’ll kill him’, he thought, careful to not step on the Overlord’s body as she lay, dormant on the floor. ‘I’ll tear him apart.’ He felt anger within, driving him insane with each strike. A surge of darkness shot from his palm after ducking under the scythe’s blade. As the Nemesis slammed against the wall, the Insurgent Leader charged forward, aiming to stab the Nemesis in the chest. A careful roll to the side and the Nemesis tripped the Insurgent Leader. Landing on one foot and spinning around, the Insurgent Leader dealt a powerful blow to the Nemesis’ breastplate.

The Nemesis grabbed the Insurgent Leader by the collar, lifting him up into the air. With a throw, the Insurgent Leader slammed into the ceiling, missing the ceiling fan by inches, then began to plummet to the ground. The Nemesis swung upward with his scythe, the Insurgent Leader’s boots catching the handle. In a backflip, the Insurgent Leader landed, Muramasa sticking out of the floor, blade embedded in the once-beautiful redwood floor plates. One hand on the longsword’s hilt, the Insurgent Leader tried to pull the blade out of its wooden prison, but found that it was stuck.

“Ha!” the Nemesis laughed, swinging his scythe once more. The Insurgent Leader fell to the ground, grabbing his shoulder in pain as his enemy loomed above him, glaring down with merciless blue eyes. “I always was the strongest of us three. And look, how wonderful it is that we’re all together again...” He spoke lightly to the unconscious Overlord and wounded Insurgent Leader, voice laced with malice. “You and your pathetic war games...” He spoke now, directly to the Insurgent Leader, who took the moment of pause to catch his breath. “Fighting so trivially over this realm. You ought to have known that it was my destiny to lead it.”

“What will you do... Once you’ve taken the Between for yourself?” the Insurgent Leader gasped for air, clutching his wounded arm.

“The Uberlord controlled the flow between Life and Death and I will as well. The Three Realms will merge, with the power bestowed upon me. And there will be one Realm. My Realm,” the Nemesis whispered, “None of this arguing. No politics. Just existence. So that there can be peace and no death.”

“So you’ll shatter the very foundation that the Universe was based on...?” the Insurgent Leader scoffed, “You want to be God? Is that it?”

“I will be God,” the Nemesis replied coolly. The Insurgent Leader held himself up from the ground with one arm, glaring up at the tall armored figure. The Nemesis held the scythe in his hand, “I already am Death... And isn’t that just a step away from godhood, Thomas?”

“You’re crazy,” the Insurgent Leader concluded dryly.

“That may be...” the Nemesis nodded in consideration, then shrugged carelessly, “But I will stop at nothing to achieve my goal. Even if I die, I will rise beyond the grave to kill you, Thomas.” He swung the scythe once more. The Insurgent Leader moved like lightning, hand releasing a massive stream of energy and darkness. As it enveloped the Nemesis, the Insurgent Leader stood up, making a pushing motion with both hands. Lost amidst the black magic, the Nemesis went flying away, slamming through a wall and vanishing entirely from view. The Insurgent Leader sank down to a knee for a moment, panting heavily.

And then he rose, pulling Muramasa out of the floor with both hands. Sheathing the longsword on his back, the Insurgent Leader walked to the Overlord’s broken desk, looking at the golden sphere that glowed despite the shadows surrounding the office. Scooping the small sphere in both hands, the Insurgent Leader looked down at it, feeling the warmth in his palms. “Emily?” he asked quietly, watching how the orb’s glow intensified at his touch. He smiled, despite the crimson painted on his face and the wounds that racked his body with pain. Walking over to the discarded body on the ground, he knelt next to his sister, golden soul still in his hands. With one hand he held up his sister, her head leaning back. The other hand, grasping the soul loosely, was held up in the air, his dark eyes full of concentration.

‘This had better work...’ he thought uncertainly, then gently held the soul to the Overlord’s chest, watching as the sphere’s tendrils reached out and attached itself to the Overlord. The Insurgent Leader tilted his head to the side as the soul suspended itself in midair, though connected once more with its original self. With two fingers, he gently tapped the soul, watching as it glided in, and melded back into the unconscious body.

A few seconds later, and the Overlord awoke, twitching and spasming as she came back to reality. Hand reaching up and grabbing the Insurgent Leader’s unwounded shoulder, she sat there for a minute, her body still injured from the previous fight. There was a moment where the Insurgent Leader awkwardly didn’t let go of the Overlord, and she sat in silence, taking in a deep breath.

“Where is he?” the Overlord asked, looking about the office. Her eyes were still adjusting to the lack of light.

“I don’t know,” the Insurgent Leader answered uncertainly, “He went through the wall. He’ll be trying to flee, I would guess...”

“I need to find him before I lose him forever,” the Overlord pulled away from the Insurgent Leader, painfully rising to her feet. “I know... What I need to do now.” She helped the Insurgent Leader to his feet, still feeling weakened.

“You need to rest,” the Insurgent Leader tried, but knew that arguing with her was useless. He lowered his head at her piercing green glare, knowing that she would not listen to his pleas. “... I understand.” He mumbled, relenting and sighing at the same time.

The Overlord nodded, her eyes moving to the ground. Her hand grabbed her stomach, which had stopped bleeding but still ached terribly, “Thank you... Baby brother,” she whispered, “For... saving me...” She and the Insurgent Leader met eyes for a moment, the winds raging through the opened office wall dying down for the moment. The Overlord felt compelled to do something- hug him, cry into his shoulder and tell him how much she cared about him, or maybe even just clap him on the back in a friendly manner. Instead, she nodded again, tearing her gaze away from him and taking a step towards the hall to find her enemy.

“You don’t... Need my help, do you?” the Insurgent Leader asked quietly.

“Evacuate the building,” the Overlord turned and glanced at him from the corner of her eye, “Thomas... I don’t know what will happen.”

The Insurgent Leader was silent, but knowing. He swallowed, head bobbing up and down vigorously, “I.... I understand...” And then, he tried to smile at her, but it seemed more like a forced grimace, “Don’t... Get your soul... Taken away again... Please...”

The Overlord’s hand grabbed the doorframe for support, but she nodded, “I’ll take that advice into careful consideration... Thomas.” And she slipped away from the room.