Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

“How did she do it?” the Nekolich asked the Fates. “Please tell me she did not do what I think she did. Tell me she did not make that sacrifice,” he pleaded.

Aleister, Wyvern Knight of Fate and one of five, spoke somberly “When I defeated the Wyyvern of Fate and took its power I was shown every possible Fate that could ever befall this Living Multiverse you love so much. Among those Fates was but one that had a last final stretch of peace before my seven seals break and I fulfill my ultimate fate to End all things so that new Life may spring from the ashes. As long as all goes as planned,” he continued. “The era of peace shall be rich and full. I do not regret what will be lost, I do not regret the suffering of those who live before the time of peace, I do not regret the path that leads there. I only regret one thing. You cannot know it.” Stu became enraged at what he had created. “It is the only way Epic survives,” the Fates said to Stu in unison.

“Then do not fail,” the Nekolich demanded.

*          *

“All cannons fire!” Chastity shouted as Aleister, her Dreadnautilus, circled the epic battle between Reaven and Basilisk. The constant bombardment gave Reaven the advantage he required. Reaven had carved hide, bone, and scale from Basilisk throughout their battle. With them, he had grafted to himself armor and had even added some lethal additions to his staff.

Basilisk, now blind in one eye, battered, and bruised, refused to go quietly, “This Realm is mine! That World is mine! Mine!” He wrapped his tail around Aleister until his hall began to crack. “You are but Dead. All of you! I am immune to Death,” the parts Reaven had carved from Basilisk grew back as he healed himself. Even his eye returned to full function. “Only a living can defeat me.”

Inside his own head, Reaven heard a voice, “take your city and go.”

“What about Zesrial?” Reaven asked while in the midst of combat with a God the size of a Galaxy to protect a World he did not know.

A bell tolled as Reaven, and his city of the Dead disappeared and returned to their own Time and place. “Sorry, but I do not have a choice.” The World of Men and Elves fell to Basilisk.

Meanwhile, within the Dreadnautilus, “Where is he?!” Zesrial’s lightning flashed with her anger, and her sorrow made it rain. “Aleister!”

“Please stop making it rain inside me,” Aleister replied as he appeared before Zesrial as a translucent specter.

Zesrial slapped Aleister’s specter as though it were physical and the entire ship shook. Then the rain and lightning ceased, “you lost on purpose.”

“We got what we need from that World…” Zesrial slapped Aleister in the middle of his sentence. Then she slapped him again and again and again.

“Stop slapping me ship!” Chastity’s voice came over the Dreadnautilus’s loudspeakers.

“Go to the Nekolich,” Aleister said to Zesrial. “Your next mission, it will be personal. You must not fail.” With that, Zesrial disappeared and was taken to where she was needed.

“I have won!” Basilisk laughed. “That World was delicious. A little overdone though.” He turned around and began the long lumbering back to his home when he bumped into something. He looked up as the Dreadnautilus unstealthed before him now large enough to hold a seven thousand Basilisks.

“Hello,” Chastity began, “we hope you enjoyed your meal. We know that you have no other choice in Void travel, so we’d like to thank you for your cooperation.” Chains bigger than Basilisk’s tail shot out from the Dreadnautilus, wrapped themselves around Basilisk, and began dragging him slowly through the open bay door.

“Wait, what?!” Basilisk began to know fear, “where are you taking me?”

“Have a nice day,” Chastity said before turning off the loudspeaker.

Basilisk kicked and screamed, “NO!” All became dark as the bay door shut and then all became cold. What is this?” Then a pain clamped his mouth shut.

“Shut up,” said a familiar voice.

“The Fox,” Basilisk realized as he found himself in a cold desolate tundra of a dead Realm.

“What’s the matter, cold blood, too cold?” Edward asked as he froze Basilisk from the inside out.

“Enough! Please, I cannot take the cold,” Basilisk pleaded. Then he found himself in the palm of Edward’s paw-like hand. Basilisk looked into Edward’s eyes and saw the eternal fate that awaited him.

“Servitude or Damnation?” Edward asked. “Decide now and decide carefully for they are both eternal.”

*          *

Zurina laid on the floor defeated. She struggled but managed to drag herself to a wall to sit against. “You’re too late, I have already sent for aid,” she coughed up black tar. “His newest Knight was forged to fight a monster far worse than you, Count. You will fall.”

The silhouette of a fanged Wyvern branded itself over Dracula’s right eye as he watched the Vampire Queen speak her last words with her final breath. In his hand, he held Zurina’s closest friend, Alexandra the Wyvern Sword of Vampirism, by her blade, “there is no monster worse than I,” he said.