by Sergio Black
“The N.S.W.P.’s primary endgame is to oversight law enforcement, recruit soldiers, and covertly pillage items of great merit that I have scattered throughout the ages of time, either hidden or protected, by any means necessary. Speaking of which, the last time I saw the Mad Doctor was six years ago. I watched from afar just before he raided my old hideout. The Mad Doctor looked almost the same way he did 18 some years ago when you were just a small boy, just uglier. The Mark of the Beast has degraded his body, the evil that lives within him has morphed his appalling features, making him ugly on the outside just as he is inside.”
Nefarious stares at Winsor, now riveted by the influx of information pouring out of the old man. “Go on.” Winsor nods his head with a victorious smile. He knew Nefarious would take the bait hook, line and sinker.
“I thought so. Anyway, with the help of Neu Germany, the Mad Doctor found my old hideout in Greece and raided me, stole my analog computer and other knickknacks, but among the items he unlawfully commandeer from me, the most important was the Book of Fate. I tried to take it with me but the dang thing is so heavy. I have to use my telekinesis to help me carry it wherever I go. In other words, I would have perished if I had not ditched it. I barely made it through my secret tunnel at the back end of my lair, when the Mad Doctor and his goons arrived. Thankfully, I had what information about you that I needed.
“The Book spoke of a Virgin who ascends under aligning Galaxies but would not show me what century or where. That was the easy part, the hard part was finding out the exact location and date of your rejuvenation through calculations of the heavens. About 2900 years ago, the Book in living wisdom led me to history’s most brilliant superior minds, to bestow me with biased knowledge from the world’s greatest masters, Nostradamus, Aristotle, Plato, Socrates, Pythagoras, the list goes on and on. One, in particular, was a Superior Engineer of Archimedes, whom I took my official apprenticeship under. Together, we meticulously built the world’s first analog computer that navigates the stars. The Star Keeper (Antikythera Mechanism) was a manual 223 tooth gear that showed me the coordinates and timeline of your ascension. There is no doubt you’re the Chosen One who’s destined to liberate the world! You are a Virgin, aren’t you?”
Winsor coughs loudly, pulling the wiry spectacles from his face, he wipes the thin old lenses on his raggedy toga. Winsor Magnus is only 5 feet and weighs close to 90 pounds with a big, bald head like Mr. Clean and a nose like Scrooge. The skin of Winsor Magnus looks rubbery and worn, like old cowhide, and he has large brown eyes that blister with intelligence. But what strikes Nefarious as comical is Winsor wears no shoes but his feet are well kept and unsullied. Nefarious waits until the coughing ceases.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business if I am or am not, your prophecy is wrong, and so are your books. I can’t lead you to salvation, I’m a broken man and certainly, I am nobody’s hero.” Nefarious susses out the seven Maned Wolves who are every bit as fierce as they are strong. Each wolf varies in color, standing upwards of 15 feet, with six thorns running up both sides of their snout to their lemon-sized black eyes in a way that looks unholy. Winsor sputters his lips then turns his back on Nefarious and limps to the cavern wall, pulling free one of several lit torches, he slowly baby steps into a narrow opening that opens to a tunnel which dives deeper into the cavern. Winsor leaves Nefarious to stand at the cave’s entrance with Hell’s beasts, as he walks lamely deeper into the hall. Winsor casually talks over his shoulder, the echo of the cave carries his voice like they’re inside the tomb of Gol Gumbaz, dismissing Nefarious’ spiteful words as empty notions.
“I didn’t live through centuries of death and violence to speak bedtime fables. Whether you like me or not is non-essential. We need to work together and recover Fate’s Immortal Instruments before the Order retrieves them. They are called as such because they can never be destroyed, and he who oversees the Instruments has dominion over Fate itself. Some 5000 years back, after the great war and the fall of All Heaven and All Hell, when the remainder of Fate’s Immortal Instruments was bestowed upon me by the first bloodline of the Superior Knightz, I decided it wasn’t wise to carry the Instruments on my person, so I gathered them in one spot and urged a Great Magician to send them away through a time vortex, so not even I knew where they could be located. This was the way to keep them from unsavory individuals wanting to hunt them down; the only link between finding the relics and their hidden resting grounds is the Book of Fate. Some of the Instruments are connected through a bond, and he or she will find their way to the Relic like a homing beacon.
“Two of the 12 Instruments chose you as their master. That’s no minimal feat. Them Eyes you occupy are one of 12 objects thought to be destroyed toward the end of our First Great War. And the Scythe you command is a spiritual polygraph able to soul-search the conscience of the guilty and divine. After we were able to get those weapons from HIM, there was a drawn-out battle between the Great Magician who was able to harness control over the Sabbatical Wand and engage HIM in a War of the Mystics. The Magician successfully depleted HIM of HIS Devil’s Magic and defeated HIM. If HE hadn’t interfered with the pecking order of the timeline, events would have happened the way they were destined to. Some things, however, are forged in stone, the only difference is, events in fate happened sooner rather than later, thus altering the timeline which had deadly consequences, one of them being the result of WW2. We have to make right this wrong, or the whole world is doomed and, in the end, I fear nothing will be left, all life will cease to exist. Since your ascendancy, I have felt an awakening in the universe, firstly from the Remnants of All Heaven and now from Fates Immortal Instruments.
“The Zoltan appeared to me in my dream by way of astral-projection before the Great War and once again on the day you were born, then again the night you transcended. The First Zoltan told me to be very attentive of a child fathered on the 25th of December at exactly 7 PM. This child would grow to be the world’s liberator, and he instructed that I be your guide. I’m not looking for a confirmation of who you are, nor do I question your strength. I know you’re the one who the First Zoltan chose. He’s made it our mission to save this world and rewrite history. Now that the Eye has resurfaced, the full strength of the Order will eventually come for you when they are ready, it is just a matter of time. They’ve been waiting patiently amongst the ages of time for the Eye to reemerge as if they somehow knew of its immortal existence. I am bound by sacred duty to lead you to the Instruments and it’s your mission to recover them. In my custody, I have the Book of Fates’ first chapter. Without the missing pages, the Book of Fate is just another neat paperweight, the pages safely tucked away in the most ingenious way. The Chapter of Knowledge contains the origins of our Superior-Abilities, the whereabouts of the Saviors and each of the Gods that dwelled in Heaven, Hell and Earth, among other things that don’t really involve you at the moment. Bottom line is, we need to get that Book back from The Mad Doctor and with it, we can locate what remains of the Superior Knightz, and bring about the remaining Instruments to rid the world of HIM once and for all.”
Winsor Magnus pauses for a moment and sighs deeply, a testament of his stress, he feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, his tone completely changing. “Hear me, and hear me well, Nefarious. There is evil and then there’s evil. The second is far beyond anything you could ever attempt to imagine. Ancient primal evil. In the wrong hands, the Book of Fate could be the end of everything in existence. It could lead the Man known as HIM to his former body if he wished it. When all the chapters in the Book have been put back together, the possessor of the Book can wish to know anything among everything. It’s my job, as keeper of the Book, to protect it from anyone who wishes to destroy the ways of life.”
Winsor stops hobbling forward and turns around to face the opening of the tunnel’s entrance. “You just gonna stand there all night like a freakin’ statue or are you gonna follow me!?” Nefarious slowly holsters the Reaper Scythe on his back
and carefully observes the undaunted wolf pack as the animals start to relax. Nefarious shifts his gaze from the wolves and stares straight ahead at the small rocky corridor, his glowing eyes splash with curiosity, slicing through the poorly lit room.
“No tricks, old man, or by the death of my parents, I’ll cut you in half.” Nefarious walks past the Maned Wolves and several lit torches that align the wall, entering the same passageway Winsor disappears into, then falls into step behind the old man. Winsor flashes his lit torch from side to side, hobbling forward and stops just before walking into another large opening.
“These inscriptions you’re about to see on the walls are historical events summed up in several depictions. Over the centuries, I have archived everything here that I deemed above all else absolute or groundbreaking, all of it circles back to the Man Known as HIM. The man who almost conquered everything with such rapidity, no one saw it coming. The ascension of that parasitic Devil God and his Immortals were just the beginning. The embodiment of evil entities and fallen Angels didn’t follow until after the downfall of Christ and the Order’s recovery of all but 7 Instruments. Even with 4 Instruments in HIS guardianship, it made one man more powerful than the very Gods that created mankind. With them, they constrained everything, and it was a literal hell on earth. Tyranny and death spread to the seven corners of this world and over time they got stronger. The humans performed sacrificial rituals in the name of these would be Gods, the prayers received from humanity increased their power.
“Finally, when the people of the Seven Great Nations had enough of tyrannical rule, they held secret councils and elected 1 leader from each of their perspective communities that would be entrusted with the covert recovery of Fates’ remaining objects. With these objects, they led their prospective people as one nation in a Great Rebellion that lasted for 777 days and 777 nights (hence the term lucky No.7). But this wasn’t like other wars. Wars today are fought with bombs and drones. This war was different. The First Great War was fought with Superior Power that rained from the All Heavens. People say it was God’s last act of revolt against HIM. In those times, there was no safety, no peace, nothing was off limits. The only crime you could commit was not subjecting yourself to his Chaos. My village tried to live in peace and for that, the Order slaughtered my people, my entire family. They erased the history of culture from existence. I was lucky to escape with my life. The physical scars are nothing, it’s the mental ones that are hard to bear, those are the ones that pierce the deepest. I stood by, hiding like a coward while everything I loved was wiped from this planet. My daughter and my wife are all but a memory now; my heart breaks for them every day.”
Winsor Magnus attempts to keep his composure before choking up and breaking down. The tears that streak down his cheeks freely hit the cavern floor with faint drops. “They took my family. Ripped my precious babies away in the name of Greed and Power.” Nefarious stands still as stone through the sound of pittered tears hitting the stone. For the first time in a long time, Nefarious feels something other than anger and hatred. He can’t discern whether it’s affinity, solace or understanding that tingles inside his guts, but chalks it up to the possibility of being all three.
“Old man, know this, your death would have been senseless and in vain. The contribution you’re about to make to this world, in its greatest time of peril will give you the redemption you seek. You didn’t have the power to stop the inevitable. I have felt your pain at the hands of many tyrants who stand for the very system that’s condemned our kind. I feel your heartache every day the same as you. For that reason alone, I will aide you in whatever you have planned. But know this, you’re not my Superior, I answer to no one. My objective has not changed. My retribution comes before everything. I will obliterate the NAZIs along with the Order and humanity will shortly follow. The inferior people of this planet are owned by their material plunders, they put money, power, and greed over decency and morality, then forsake their own kind when the top 3% of wealthy elites alone could bring a positive difference, to build a better world. But instead of being content with the luxuries they’ve been graced with, they take, and they take, and they take until there will be nothing left for the planet to give. The earth will eventually exterminate us all. I will destroy what they have built and rebuild this planet, giving humanity to a better Empire - one of peace and law - the chosen and I will work together, to make positive reparations to this dying world. Whether you are a part of this New World or not matters little to me. My retribution will not be merciful or immediate, but regardless, I will have it. This corrupt world will feel the power of hatred, their atrocities have given fruition to me, their greatest reckoning, I bring with me the wrath of Vergina and cast condemnation on all who oppose me.”
Winsor Magnus looks up at Nefarious through bloodshot eyes and lingers on every word he speaks, for he knows what he says, he says with conviction. “Just help me get retribution for those who left me hollow and faceless. Afterward, I don’t care what you do. Even if you kill me, at least I can go to the grave knowing I had a hand in destroying the bastards who killed me!” Nefarious holds out a closed fist and lets it linger in the air. Winsor looks up at Nefarious and hesitantly raises his own fist, touching knuckles with Nefarious, the friction of telekinetic prowess sends tinges of electricity between their knuckles. Winsor smiles in silence as he keeps his fist locked to Nefarious, never breaking eye contact with the Vengeful one.
“To us, I suppose as I would usually say in a moment like this, Carpe Diem!” Winsor slowly lowers his hand and begins to take note of Nefarious’ nude lean body. “Before we begin, let’s get you some clothes though, huh?”
Winsor walks forward with Nefarious close at his naked heels, they come to an end, in a large stone room at the back of the cavern. Winsor turns to look at Nefarious. “I think it will suit you nicely. Get it, suit?” Winsor chuckles hard at his own joke then sputters to a stop. “Tough crowd, I guess.” Winsor grabs hold of a stone handle that resembles a refrigerator door, then pulls and strains with all the strength his little muscles can muster. The man-made stone door opens up into a large stone closet that encases a midnight-black uniform that sits beneath a pair of black boots, with matching gloves. Winsor looks at Nefarious, nodding his head with giddy excitement. “The entirety of this uniform is made from Sinatonium and other earthly materials, much like the Book of Fate. The metal itself is found in Hell; realistically it can only be molded in the underworld’s furnace. The Book of Fate, however, instilled in me many great pearls of wisdom and alternative ways of doing things, I never thought possible, which led to the eventual creation of this masterpiece. The suit is not only stylish, but it’s also engrained with your DNA, it’s willed to protect you through the bonds of blood, and it’ll tailor to any form or size you take. If you ever find yourself divorced from this outfit you can call it to yourself, as you change so will this armor. Now look see, put it on, just press the big Raven in the center, it will automatically adjust to your body’s appropriate measurements.”
Nefarious takes the suit and looks at it with great suspicion, then touches lightly over the bold raven at the center. “I don’t believe you, how is it made from my DNA? I just met you.” Winsor can’t help but beam with joy, for the thunder of hope that roars inside his belly is a pride he hasn’t felt in a long time.
“Isn’t the answer obvious, it belonged to your father, back when he was with the Minutemen, I made this for him, to keep him impervious from the few threats that could harm him. He specifically requested that I put the emblem of a Raven on the front. He said one day it would belong to you, and he was right. Enough for now, I shall reveal more when the time forewarns us.
“Rest easy tonight, at the next Sun, we begin your training. I am going to show you how to properly rein some of that newfound power you have been bestowed with. You are no longer the man who you once were, Nefarious.” And with these last words, Winsor Magnus turns around and hobbles down the dark passageway out of sight, le
aving Nefarious to his many thoughts.
CHAPTER FIVE
ATTICA - THE TOMB OF SHADOWS
The black helicopter whirs loudly, descending over the red rocky terrain of Neu Cape Sounion where the wind is breezy and the sun shines high above the horizon. The chopper hovers briefly before landing on the terrain of the once glorious Greek state. The Mad Doctor sits closest to the door, unfastens his seat belt and looks to Lisa Ann who’s sitting next to him in the back of the chopper’s fancy cabin. The Mad Doctor smiles eerily, showing 3 predatory incisors that begin to overlap his mortal teeth like King Shark.