Eclipse of the Gods

A planet. Not a particularly notable planet in this universe- it was not even notable on a galactic scale. It was merely a rocky planetoid, all deep crags and jutting mountains, obsidian mountain ranges looming high over dark and mist-shrouded canyons. In between these landscapes, however, stood a dark and dusty plain, shrouded by thick clouds of acidic green. shrivelled remains of dead trees jutted out of thin, crumbling soil, leached by acid rain. A chill wind whipped across the plain, the eerie howl of deoslation somehow more alarming than any monster could have been. Wisps of sickly-looking green fog drifted idly across the ashen-grey landscape. This world had once been far more habitable before some unclaimed disaster had destroyed whatever strange civilization had called it “home.” The occasional burnt-out ruin or shrivelled stand of petrified trees paid tribute to the verdant past of this world, now poisoned and polluted beyond all recognition.

In one such copse of ruins, several strange, egg-like pods, curiously untouched by the ruin and decay that surrounded them, stood in a rough circle. They shimmered in the dull darkness, their pecuuliarily soft and malleable outer shell housing an occupant, transported from across time and space to this one singular location. Not for a frivolous game, or for vengeful satisfaction, but for a purpose. Unaware of their locations, deep in slumber, they dreamed...

The Council of Thirteen had called for him. Esplin 9466 had garnered many, many names over his life. He had been called Sub-Visser Seven, long ago, but as he had risen- and frequently backstabbed- his way through the Yeerk Empire he had changed military titles faster and faster, from Visser Thirty-Two to Visser Three- and then, when Earth and the Andalite homeworld had finally fallen to the Yeerk forces under his control, he assumed his rightful title of Visser One.

From their perches, the Council regarded him. They were all, of course, physically different- Taxxons, Hork-Bajir, Gedds- although humans and Andalites were becoming more and more common as shipments of Controllers spread across the Empire. Visser One regarded each of them in turn with his four eyes, shifting his weight from hoof to hoof as he waited for one of them to speak. He was sure that he was going to be commended greatly- perhaps even be offerd a seat on the Council itself. What an honor that would be… and he had worked hard to earn it, crushing his competition with Yeerk-like ruthlessness and fighting tooth and nail for his promotions. He waited for them to speak- but they never did.

Instead, the Council Chamber shattered.

As they faded into silent nothingness, a panoply of stars and nebulae swirled past him. The infinite cosmos swam past him- once, twice, thrice. As the Visser plunged into the heart of a bloated red star, the heat and light grew more and more intense. It did not burn his blue fur, though- to the contrary, it felt nourishing . He could almost see the atoms burning and breaking, dancing their inscrutable dance, being subsumed into energy, fuelling the eternal nuclear fires of the star. He felt almost at one with the universe, the roaring heat surrounding him, revelling as atomic bonds were broken and re-forged, the rush of energy flowing across his equine body...

______________________________

...when he awoke. Like a mist evaporating form his mind, the dream faded from all memory. His mind felt curiously empty after the dream- perhaps that would pass. Examining his surroundings brought him no answers- he was wrapped in a snug technological cocoon, wires, crystals, and cables surrounding him. Shaking them off, he struggled to get free, using the long and scythelike blade on his tail. His tail! He... didn’t even know he had a tail. A thrill of panic ran through his hearts as he looked around. Who... who was he? What was his name? Fighting the urge to kick his way out of his prison, he looked around for any form of exit and found one- a hatch that opened as soon as he motioned towards it. Stepping out onto the broken, dusty plain, the Andalite-Controller looked around. The buildings were crumbling and long-abandoned, blackened husks standing on the crumbling remains of a street. The strange thing he had been trapped in resembled an oblong, silvery shape. He noted, with another surge of nerves that there were several dozen other cocoons.

All of them began to stir.

edited 24th Nov '11 12:55:13 PM by Locoman

A cocoon opened forth, and within a silhouette stood, with red eyes shining out the darkness. The figure, dressed drab clothes but with a brown longcoat and fedora to match, slowly stepped out of its prison, feet sticking and unsticking from the ground from the sticky substance. The figure stood, and slowly looked around. It examined its hands, covered in black gloves. It looked back up, continued to scan the area. Then it made a snarling face, turned its head upwards, lifted its arms, and issued a query.

"WHERE THE HELL AM I?"

Cake... so much delicious, beautiful cake, and Remi had gathered it all for her! Big cake, small cake, short cake, tall cake... cake from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, piled and drizzled in... stuff. Nice stuff, red stuff. Lots of it. There were a few bodies here and there but that was because they had tried to take her cake. The silly people should have known better than to come down into her basement and tried to steal the cake. She didn't want to play when there was cake around.

Flandre reached for the nearest cake, some festive wedding-like thing with a figure of a burning witch perched merrily on top, and started pulling out fistfuls of it. So sweet, so very sweet... and so moist. She could eat it forever, sit there and chew away at the confectionery mountains whilst waiting for Remi to visit and play... and the black-white, she could be fun too!

Then the cake began to melt, turning into an unending sea of thick red...

The blonde stirred slowly, blinking and shaking her head to clear the sleep from it. Who... wha'... where... nothing... strange. Just her, the teddy in her arms—what was that doing there?—and all the wires and things. But... how could she get out? There was no exit or anything... maybe she should just stay here?

By chance, the vampire's shifting brought her close to the entrance and she came tumbling out, falling to the ground with a pleasant tinkling sound owing to the crystals on her wings. Wings? She had wings? Meanwhile, there was... a blue thing, there was a blue thing and a man in a coat!

Uncertainly, the child rose to her feet with the teddy bear in hand. Why did she feel so tingly? It didn't hurt but it felt strange...

And in the darkness Koschei otherwise known as the Master rested. He sees Gallifrey back in its golden age. He sees a younger him of the age of maybe seven running through the fields with another young boy who will later be known as the Doctor. However drums start to engulf his dreams as the Doctor now grown-up walks to him. "Koschei... you could change. You could be so much more. Come with me." The man shakes his head. "I...I can't ... the drums won't stop. Until I remove the drums we can't be together Doc." Soon the planet is engulfed in smoke and fire...

...as he awakes. Quicker than the morning haze the dream vanishes. His head is empty except for one thing. A beat of four drums constantly repeating. He struggles through the wires as he feels something small almost dig into his leg. He looks down, noing the fact he's clothed and pulls out the screwdriver-shaped object in the pocket. Like instinct he pushes a button causing a small beam to come out destroying any spare wires holding him. The man stands up as questions start to flood his head. Where am I? Who am I? What's my name? Where's the source of that infernal drumming?

DUHDADADA DUHDADADA

edited 24th Nov '11 1:16:20 PM by Fusionman

The figure turned. "You. Organics. Where are we?"

The man turns trying to tame the drums pulsing in his head. "I don't know. How could I possibly know!? And can you tell whoever that is to stop the accursed drumming!?"

"Drumming?" He tuned his audio receptors. There was no drumming to be heard. He twiddled a finger around his ear.

It occurred to him he didn't know what he looked like. He stroked his chin; it felt fleshy. But he was almost certain he was a robot. "Do any of you have a reflective surface?"

edited 24th Nov '11 1:26:42 PM by LizardOfAus

All was silence...

They had failed...

Their duplicates had won...

Chaos was denied...

Groggily, the brown haired, blue eyed nine year old awoke inside...something. She slowly blinked, clearing her eyes.

“Wha...what...” Her small voice said as she took a hesitating step. The door opened...and she stepped out. There were others there too, in a hallway of sorts. She looked back and forth, concern on her face.

She then noticed the staff sitting along side her. She felt...that she should take it with her? Yes...she might need it. She picked it up, but the glowing jewel didn't do anything. Then words flashed across it.

Memory Locked

Huh? Locked? She stumbled out of the pod and landed on the ground with a soft thumb, her boots touching the ground. As she landed, two of the pods next to hers opened as well. She spun as a blue hair girl rolled out of hers, also clutching a staff.

Blue Hair blinked big pink-red eyes,

“Who are you?” The first girl couldn't answer...as she had no idea.

She was about to reply when white haired girl stepped out of the third pod. She was carrying a book clutched to her chest...and had wings it seemed.

White Hair glanced around and stared at everyone,

“What is going on?”

Dragovich sat in his office, overlooking the Red Square.
"They are here, sir comrade." said an aide, in Russian.
Dragovich swiveled his chair and got up, walking to the balcony. The sight before him was sweet. The two final leaders of the American resistance, resigned to their fate. One was a traitor to the motherland. The other could've been his finest agent. Kravchenko stood beside him.
"The Americanskis have surrendered." he said.
"Good."
Dragovich observed the scene. The gallows was set, room for two. The two men were brought to the gallows, bags over their heads. The bags were taken off, and Dragovich adressed them.
"Viktor Reznov. Traitor to the Motherland. Today is the day the Wolf of Stalingrad dies like the dog he is. And Mason. Alex Mason. You could've been my finest agent. You could've been standing here beside me. You did not. It is ti-"
"Fuck You Dragovich!"
"You wish for final words, Mason?"
"I have two: You're dead."
"Brave words for a man at the gallows."
"This? This is a lie, Dragovich. I choked you to death at the bottom of the ocean. Whatever sick dream this is, it's your last."
Mason pulled two M1911s from his waist, Reznov a Mac 11. This isn't how this was supposed to happen! They were to be hanged! Kravchenko fell over the edge, and exploded on the way down.
Dragovich turned to see Mason was now behind him, and pushed him over the edge. He landed on a hard metal grill, his face submerged in water. Mason turned him around and started choking him. No! Not again!
——
Dragovich lurched forward. The squelch and wires of his cocoon surrounded him.
What is this?
Dragovich push on his cocoon, unable to break it. Pulling his knife (A knife? Why do I have this?) he torn open this cocoon. His mind was a blank, and people stood in front of him.
One word was resonating in his mind, though. When he thought that word, hatred washed over him.
"Mason."

Hell.

That was the only word that could properly describe it; the blood-drenched hill, the air thick with the stench of death, her friends and comrades already beginning to rot and fester from their fatal wounds. And opposite her, he stood; the flames of the battle lighting up his armour, his horned helmet making him look like the devil himself as he advanced upon her, sword drawn and ready for the killing blow.

"What do you think, "father"? All of this... The fall of Camelot and the death of your dream for Britain... Aren't you proud of your son now?" The knight screamed as his blade came crashing down upon hers. "If I had the crown, this would never have happened! Tell me, did you hate me, the son of Morgan, that much, that you would let your kingdom be consumed like this? TELL ME, "FATHER"!"

Again their swords struck. Again and again, neither one backing down, as steel clashed with steel, Clarent bit down onto Excalibur, as father faced off against son upon the hellish landscape known as Camlann. Here, on this hill surrounded by death, as a once proud kingdom was reduced to ruins and wreckage, there would be no victor. Only one outcome awaited both combatants, and neither Mordred nor Arthur would live to see what would become of the once proud kingdom they loved so dearly...

...She awoke.

Stumbling from her cocoon, she got to her feet, her face still masked with the look of utmost despair as she groggily leaned against the wall for support.

Aside from the corpse-like complexion and golden eyes, she didn't look all that strange. Just your average young woman in gothic lolita fashion, really. But something... Something seemed so wrong about everything to her. This place... This was not where she was supposed to be. She was... Where was she supposed to be? She... Couldn't remember. Something, something important... She looked at her hands, her delicate, doll-like hands. No, not delicate... These were a warrior's hands... Right? The black sword she held tightly told her that much...

"Where... Where am I!?" she barked angrily, as she noticed that she was not alone. If any of these people had any part in her being here, she would... She would...

"I should be asking you that, sooka." Dragovich said, instinctively raising his AKM at all within sight.
"Who am I? Who is Mason?"

"So...none of you remember anything either? Anything about why we're here? ...Anything about who we are?"

The robot lowered his head. His databases were near unrecoverable. The only thing he could remember was his dreams.

His dark, neverending dreams.

Dreams of one man, a human.

Dreams of torturing that man, tormenting him every hour.

Frightening him, mocking him, but most of all slicing and punching and blasting him within an inch of his life, only for him to live on for more.

And he had loved every last minute of it.

"No. I know how to use a weapon. I know Russian, English and Spanish. I know one name, but it is not mine."
Dragovich lowered his AKM, still alert.

"No... nothing... or why the light makes me feel odd..." the vampire said, frowning and idly reaching up to scratch at her neck. So itchy... maybe if she climbed back into the ball things would be better? It was annoying and frustrating, this uncomfortable feeling... why was it there and why wouldn't it go away? The vampire then waved at the Russian, "And he looks so delicious..."

"I know one thing," the girl with the black blade growled. "and that's that if I don't get an answer about where I am soon, I will get very angry."

She gripped her sword tighter, her previously terrified face twisting into an agressive scowl.

Delicious?
"Go eat an Americanski, sooka."

Stern the Destructor, Material-S turned to look at the older man holding the weapon. She knew it to be a weapon although she didn't know what type.

Then she looked at the pale girl in the black dress.

“I...I don't think any of us know who we are...and my memories about what I can do are fuzzy.” Levi The Slasher, Material-L nodded, making her pigtails bounce,

“Yeah...this is...just...not right. I should be able...to do something awesome...I think.” She hefted what looked like a black battle axe onto her shoulder. Lord Dearche, Material-D spoke up, still clutching her book to her chest,

“My book is empty...but I know its mine.”

Stern looked at the massive crumbling buildings,

“Is this...a city?”

"I think I know a name as well... It's a name I don't like one bit."

The man chuckles darkly. "I know a name. It seems to haunt every dark corner of my brain and is only brought by these drums."

"So most of us have some kind of enemy. That's a start at least. Perhaps they are somehow responsible for our amnesia."

The man chuckles. "He doesn't seem like the kind of man to do that. Then again I can't tell anything apart. Everything is just dark, blurry pictures in my head."

"I don't have an enemy!" the blonde child supplied, before her face creased in thought one again, "At least, I don't think I do... but I think I have a sword... but where would I be keeping a sword? In my pockets?"

Names? I... I remember a few names, but... Not one of them is mine... Morgan... Mordred... Angra Mainyu... Kirutsugu... Shirou, Rin... Sakura... Kohaku... Nothing but names. Names are useless to me without anything to back them up!

The pale girl grunted in frustration. "Then no-one can answer me? Is there not one amongst you who can remember anything? Methinks at least one of you must be hiding behind deceit! Why else would we all be here, if one of us had not brought us all here?"

edited 24th Nov '11 2:23:16 PM by Moerin

It had happened. It had finally happened.

The Rangers and Zordon were dead. It had been surprisingly simple finding their base, and child's play to destroy Zordon's life support. Once their powers failed them, the rangers were overwhelmed by a paltry force of ten putties. The desert rocks had run red with blood when he announced his victory to the citizens of Angel Grove, and then the world.

Lord Zedd sat on his throne, his wife Rita by his side, as he looked at the new decorations on the recently installed spikes on the balcony which could be used to look from his magnificent lunar castle to the Earth below. The helmets of the Power Rangers, smashed into bits.
—-
Soon, however, the Galactic Conqueror awakened and saw the newcomers before kicking the front of the cocoon off and slumped to the floor. He staggered to his feet before propping himself up with his staff, quickly regaining his strength. Once he had his footing, he stepped towards the others and pointed to Dragovich with his staff.

"Where am I?! Speak, human, or I will rip your stubble out!"

Daido wondered where he was. The last time he checked, he was in the All Lair. Suddenly the room became pink and transformed into a land filled with old worn out toys. "Where... am I?" Daido asked himself. Daido turned around and saw a giant purple teddy bear with a white tummy. He held a walking stick and on his head was a small girl, who looked no older than five, with pink hair and eyes, wearing a pink sundress.

" Welcome to my treasure trove... It had occurred to me that you people will eventually kill each other... So I decided to try and put you all my little treasure trove before I lose anyone of you. You're my favorite one, so you get to go first!" The Girl said.

"Ah, you're that girl I met in the Viking world... I have bad news for you: I don't feel like being put away." Daido said as he placed the Lost Driver on his waist. He then got out his memory.

ETERNAL

"Henshin!" Daido said as he placed the memory in the Lost Driver.

ETERNAL!

The armor of Kamen Rider Eternal was created as Daido rushed to the large teddy bear and got out his Eternal Edge. He leaped up and stabbed the knife into the bear. To his sunrise, he heard a ripping sound as stuffing came out. Daido then realized that he was sliding down, ripping more into the bear. Soon, the Bear went lifeless and fell to the ground, with the pink girl, Deca, falling off the head. As she got up, she saw the bear and all the stuffing he left behind. She then looked around for Daido. Only when she turned around did she noticed the white rider impale her with the knife. No blood came out of her mouth, but rather, she crumbled to dust as the glyph of a pink ">" emerged out of her. It soon entered Daido.

Soon, the entire world became white as Daido canceled his transformation. He looked around as the world around him changed. He soon found himself in the middle of a street. Just ahead of him, he saw two bodies. One was clearly an adult male, but the other he had to walk forward to see. It was a girl, almost exactly like the Nomad he slain, but lacked a pink glow.

" I thank you for freeing her." A voice sounded from behind Daido. He turned around and saw a man with red Tron Lines, with his face having a "Φ" mark. Daido had to have a double take as he compared the male body to the figure in front of him. " Someday I'll join her. That day won't be today, however. I still have a game to do. A challenger to select. I don't know why she picked you to be a challenger, but I noticed something you desired... Resurrection. A chance to have the dead rise. That was something I once desired as well. You've gained her mark. Her Glyph. But, I fear it will be a while before it manifests. Especially given how she was just half the Nomad. But when it does manifest, embrace it as both a gift, and a curse." The red man said.

"What is going on? Who are you? What are you talking about?" Daido asked him, but the vision faded.

" Again, thank you for freeing Ushio... Some day I will be free too..." Were the last words Daido heard.

Breaking out of the cocoon was a Japanese man in a black jumpsuit with red lines. The man looked to be about forty and had a blue stripe on his head. He gasped for air, having a horrible dream of a man in the snow. "What... What happened?" The man asked. He then looked around and saw other people out of their cocoons. "What... What is going on?" The man asked one of them, an old Russian General.