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.
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