[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “PROLOGUE” [/edgtf_highlight]
It was once a eutopia.
The planet Eden was a peaceful and beautiful place. The greenery was exquisite, the architecture was something to marvel. Those that lived here created serenity. There were no wars, no anger or hatred, no greed or righteousness.
The denizens of Eden led peaceful, fulfilled, and happy lives. There was music, love, and colour.
Until one day, grey battleships entered the atmosphere and hovered above all the major cities. The denizens of Eden prayed to their Lord Zeldor and welcomed their aliens with open arms.
And they destroyed them.
They murdered, maimed, tortured, and annihilated families – the elected leaders were strung up and hung from the once beautiful walls of the cities they led.
Those unfortunate enough to survive the evisceration were bonded into slavery, mining the planet for its resources.
This once beautiful eutopia has become a barren, brutal, terrifying landscape. Where there was once laughter and cheers, there are now screams and cries. Where there was once light, there is only darkness. There’s no longer joy or peace on Eden.
Its denizens are now hopeless, terrified, and tragic. They work day and night to survive as their once beautiful planet is terraformed by those who invaded.
They are nothing more than slaves.
They are tools.
And their overlords? The Ashen.
Does The King have the honour to defeat Barkada?
Barkada grabs a tire and launches it at The King but the latter dodges. However, Barkada uses the distraction to run and leap off the fuel pumps
ONG BAK!!!!
That crushing forearm sends Victor stumbling back into a parked van. Barkada charges in looking for a flying kick….
The Royal evades and hits the KING’S RANSOM!!!!
That plated elbow strike and back fist busts Barkada wide open. Victor follows up with a Mongolian chop then spears Barkada through an upright litter bin. King springs to his feet, groggily Barkada is up second. The Royal makes his move but Barkada counters…
Here comes the LIMB BARRAGE!!!!
The jumping knee climax sending Victor flipping backwards onto concrete.
Barkada grabs a fuel injector from the pump and smashes into the head of Victor King. Wrapping it around His Majesty’s throat, the HonorRealm combatant starts to choke out his illustrious opponent with the rubber cord.
It looks like Victor is going to choke to death but he makes a desperate move…
ROYAL DECREE!!!!
The running knee to the skull staggers Barkada. King unwraps the fuel injector cord, points the injector at his opponent
COUNTER!!!
RESTORATION!!!
Sternum kick from Barkada.
He puts his hands down Victor King’s throat…
AND PULLS OUT HIS INSIDES!!!!
MDK!!!!
Barkada plays with Victor King like a cat with a dead mouse, tossing it around the gas station like a rag doll!
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: BARKADA [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#1c1c1c” color=”#ffffff”] CHAPTER I [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “THE INVITATION” [/edgtf_highlight]
In a beautiful room, full of vibrancy and colour, a figure sits on a polished gold chair, watching what appears before him. On what could be a screen made of air, he looks down on a broken planet – destroyed. Fires rage, bodies are strewn throughout the streets and monstrous creatures ravenously cause carnage.
His viewing is interrupted by a whisping sound that immediately draws his attention. He turns around and watches as an envelope falls to the ground as if out of no-where.
“Zantetcha, is this you?” He asks, searching the room for the person of which he speaks.
What looks like a woman steps into the room from another with long blonde flowing hair – her beauty unmatched, despite the lower half of her face being covered by what appears to be a mask. Her complexion and face that we can see are flawless, as if she was created without blemish.
“No darling, that has nothing to do with I,” she replies, continuing about her business.
He picks it up and reluctantly opens it. Inside is a black invitation with pink writing adorning the front. He reads it aloud to Zantetcha.
“There’s a tournament.
A banquet of death.
Fighters representing realms throughout the universe are cordially invited to the grand feast of flesh.
Deathstrike.
Those who take part give their life to the tournament and the stakes are real. Fighters will fight in brutal to-the-death matches, with only the winner moving on. There are no second chances, there is no way out.
If you come to the feast, you’ll either die…
Or win.”
Zantetcha, who was pottering about the room, had long stopped to listen. She looks at the air-screen of visceral damage and shakes her head.
“Is this some kind of joke, Zeldor?” She asks in horror. “Eden has been eviscerated by these monsters.”
The man – now identified as the God Zeldor, places the invitation back into the envelope.
“Even before our world was destroyed, Eden would’ve failed to submit a warrior to this tournament, my love. I don’t think this invitation serves that purpose; I think it has been delivered to enlighten us.”
Zantetcha looks perplexed. “How so?” She asks earnestly.
“Someone wants me to investigate this,” he says, grabbing his hat from the table beside them. “And frankly, my love, the timing of this tournament is suspicious. I need to know why it has been created now.”
She walks over to husband, placing her hands around his shoulders. They touch masks, briefly, and lower their heads.
“Be careful,” she pleads. “You must return.”
Zeldor nods.
Flash!
And with that, he’s gone.
Can Maethor bring the Samba swagger to his opponent or will Mister Mortimer steamroll his opponent with his Cha-Cha-Cha?
There’s a clunk and clang of metal banging against metal as the gadget man takes on the cybernetic solder from Haindór. Sterling pulls out some kind of contraption to use against Maethor but a grey smog starts to dissipate out of the Haindórian, smothering the ballroom scene.
VENT-ILL-ATION!!!!
As the noxious gas clears, Sterling is left coughing up his guts. Out of nowhere, the sound of jet power…
ROCKET MAN!!!!
Maethor barrels into Sterling with a power-assisted dropkick right through the staircase. The inventor gets to his feet, he means fucking business now. Quickstepping his way out of Maethor’s follow-up assault, Mortimer summons his wrist blade before waltzing close to his foe…
FINE BLADE!!!
Maethor throws himself backwards in an evasive action. Sterling lunges again, but Maethor, like the matador in the pasa doble, evades the charging bull.
HANDS ON!!!
Maethor ejects one of his firsts but Sterling blocks, summoning a defensive contraption that sends the fist back to its owner.
TARGET ASSAULT!!!!
The fight mask unleashes a repeated targeted attack on Maethor. The Haindórian blocks as a big orb of energy grows in his chest. Sterling scrambles for a new invention…but he’s too slow
THE END OF ALL THINGS!!!!
A powerful beam vaporizes The Mecha Master!
Maethor puts Mortimer Sterling on the junk heap of life!
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: MAETHOR [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#1c1c1c” color=”#ffffff”] CHAPTER II [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “INTRODUCTIONS” [/edgtf_highlight]
Flash!
A flash of lightning hits the concrete floor of a darkened forecourt with such ferocity that it causes it to almost shatter like glass. When the smoke from the impact dissipates, a human-like figure can be seen stood. He’s wearing a large green and black hat, with a mask covering the lower half of his face.
His name? Zeldor.
He’s landed in what looks to be a gas station forecourt, somewhere off planet, somewhere we don’t know.
“Where are you, most honourable warrior?” He asks in a deep, stoic, raspy voice.
From the shadows steps Barkada.
“I gathered the warriors I could find here in the battlegrounds,” Barka says, looking back into the shadows behind him. It’s there that Broog, Sparq, Whisper and Mordecai make themselves known. “I’m certain of their honour.”
Zeldor looks at them with a stoic nod.
“Thank you for coming,” he says gratefully. “I know this tournament and your participation may come as a shock. What I’ve learned is that sixteen warriors from the sixteen planets of the galaxy have been invited to Deathstrike.”
Whisper steps forward, his arms folded. He’s blind, his eyes hidden behind black cloth.
“This is every being for themselves,” he says ominously. “All but one here will die by its completion. We cannot afford alliances.”
Broog grunts.
“Why aren’t you in the tournament?” He grunts with a deep throaty voice.
Zeldor takes a deep breath. “I wasn’t invited,” he admits.
“You’re not even fighting?” Sparq says with surprise – a tiny voice from below carries weight.
“I’m here to find out why you must,” Zeldor announces. “Something is awry and I can’t put my finger on it. I need to investigate and-”
Mordecai suddenly and abruptly interrupts.
“I’ve been to the glass tower,” he announces in admission.
Everyone turns to face him, some not knowing of what he speaks. Zeldor on the other hand, he gulps. He knows.
“That confirms my fears,” The God says with a hint of fear and tremble in his voice. “Someone terrifying powerful wants you to fight to the death. What more do you know, Mordecai?”
The Dream Keeper shakes his head in refusal and backs away. As all attention turns to him, he outright refuses.
“You’ve not looked into those terrifying eyes and seen your doom, have you Zeldor?” Mordecai reiterates. “Both I and my brother have and believe me, I’ve already said too much.
Everyone looks to go their separate ways now, leaving Barkada and Zeldor alone in the middle of the forecourt.
“I’ve traversed this battleground and noted some important locations on this map,” Barkada says, handing it to Zeldor. “I hope it yields the answers you seek.”
The God takes it, nodding with a thank you. Only as Barkada steps away, the blonde flowing locks of someone watching nearby can be seen.
Can Earth’s representative and the Guardian of Dreams defeat the Dark Wizard of Qoort?
Mordecai charges full pet at Zagorthor but the Qoortian uses some magical power to sweep the Guardian of Dreams’ feet from underneath. Mordecai gets back to his feet, more magic from Zagorthor….
BUT MORDECAI QUICKLY TELEPORTS!!!!
The Gatekeeper re-appears behind the Dark Wizard.
WISH FULFILLMENT!!!
Backflip suplex into a piledriver!!
Mordecai lifts Zagorthor and tosses him across the cave, destroying a pile of glowing crystals. The Guardian arms himself with a spear-like crystal and launches it at the chest of his opponent.
BUT THE CRYSTAL FREEZES IN MID-AIR!!!
Zagorthor has caught the missile with his magic, with a twitch of his wrist the Qoortian shatters the crystal into thousands of pieces. The Dark Wizard waves a swivel gesture.
The shards of crystal turn to face Mordecai…
Zagorthor pushes his palm towards his opponent…
THOUSANDS OF CRYSTAL SHARDS SHOOT TOWARDS MORDECAI PENENTRATING HIS BODY!!!
CRYSTAL STEEL WIND!!!!
Mordecai staggers backwards, Zagorthor conjures more magic, uses his power to lift Mordecai into the air.
AND SLAM HIM HARD INTO THE GROUND!
Lifting him several times, Zagorthor smashes Mordecai into the hard surface of the gave.
THE ASTRAL HAMMER HAS OBLITERATED MORDECAI!!!
Zagorthor wants to CONQUER AND CLAIM!
The Darkwizard conjures a spectral axe…
TELEPORT!!!!
Mordecai locks in a cobra clutch!!!
NO!!!
Zagorthor pivots and the spectral axe cuts The Gatekeeper in half!
CONQUERED AND CLAIMED!!!!
Zagorthor levitates Mordecai and bathes in his blood after tearing him into two with his vile magic.
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: ZAGORTHOR [/edgtf_highlight]
Deep inside the Crystal Cave stand Sparq and Boroteba, ready to fight for the honor of their realms!
Boroteba immediately charges at Sparq, looking to blindside the Ion Lizard with a heated assault…but Sparq manages to dodge it at the last minute!
BOOM!
Sparq catches the Genocidal Prince with a headbutt, giving a sliver of the energy pulsing through him in the process!
It gives the Ion Lizard an opening to unleash an onslaught of energy, building momentum as he dashes up Boroteba’s body onto his shoulders!
ZIP-ZAP!
Boroteba takes a bolt right to the head, immobilized as Sparq drops him with a modified Stunner onto the hard, crystalline floor!
The energy is still pulsing through the Ion Lizard as Boroteba slowly gets to his feet…only for Sparq to throw a ball of energy!
ENERGY PULSE!
NO!
GLACIAL CLONE!
A statue of ice crumbles from the attack, revealing Boroteba with a smirk on his face as he runs at Sparq with a flaming kick aimed at the jaw!
FLASH INFERNO!
The power of the kick sends Sparq flying into one of the large crystals!
This gives Boroteba an opening as he summons a wicked snowstorm!
The Crystal Cave just became an ice prison!
Boroteba cuts Sparq up with whips of pure flame before melting him!
ICE COLD MAELSTROM!
With the Ion Lizard nothing but a melted mess, Boroteba overcomes Sparq to advance!
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: BOROTEBA [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#1c1c1c” color=”#ffffff”] CHAPTER III [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “A GOD AMONG YOU” [/edgtf_highlight]
In a large fiery underground pit, a large patch of dried molten lava covers the ground. It’s hot – piping hot, in fact. The heat in the air is almost suffocating. Evoco, Nekahual, Ikkita Ikk and Lord Vega stand in a circle, awaiting the arrival of someone in particular.
Their chatter soon silences as the footsteps of a woman approach. She’s wearing a large cloak that cover most of her facial features, keeping her identity under wraps from the competitors.
“You’ve been chosen to fight for your realms,” she says stoically, calmly and sternly.
“Cut the shikta,” Vega says powerfully. “Tell them what I spied.”
Announcing himself as the competitor who spied upon the group from earlier, he folds his arms angrily.
“Very well,” she agrees. “There’s a God amongst you, planning to usurp your position in the tournament. Should he have his way, he will murder you all.”
They look at one another – each of them with their own angered or concerned expression. All but Evoco, who’s mask hides his agenda. He soon makes it clear where he stands.
“You thought I’d join you in the murder of a God?” Evoco queries, leaning on his ginormous hammer, made from the shadow of Vega. “I won’t be manipulated by you, mysterious woman. These fools may scare easily, but I can see the agenda in your shadow.”
Everyone turns their attention to him.
“You foolish shadow,” Nekahual grunts. “You know nothing of what you speak.”
“There is a God and he is colluding with those in the tournament he considers morally acceptable,” Vega scoffs. “Have you had your meeting yet, Shadow Maker?”
Evoco doesn’t say anything.
“I thought as much. Why don’t you go back to the Shadow Realm where you belong, slave – let the free and powerful discuss the murder of a God,” The Sky Prince says with a dismissive wave.
There’s a moment of silence before Evoco swings his hammer towards Lord Vega – who swivels and ducks underneath it. The Dark One runs towards him, vanishing mid-run only to rise out of Vega’s shadow. Ikkita though roars a guttural yell, slinging a web at him that immediately drags him across the ground towards her.
“GET OVER HERE!” She sneers.
The mysterious woman quickly makes her exit back into the shadows as Ikkita hits the ceiling and drops upside down to meet a trapped Evoco.
“You’re going to make a tasty treat,” she hisses somewhat seductively. Evoco struggles.
WHOOSH!
Just then, a figure flies through the screen in one quick motion, scooping Evoco up and flying him away.
It’s Draco.
The Lizard Prince flies Evoco away towards their fighting grounds – The Crash Site, landing them both there in the middle of it. Using his claws, he slaps his hands down the web, breaking Evoco free.
“You’re my opponent,” he growls angrily. “I will be the one to end you.”
Evoco puts his hand out, watching as his hammer flies into it, connecting with a thud.
“You should’ve let her devour me, you cold blooded fool,” Evoco replies. “That mistake will be your end.”
Deathstrike continues here as Reptilian Savagery faces off against the Shadows themselves in the ruins of a long forgotten space craft, but no would be alien will beam up the loser from their ultimate fate
The Shadow Maker’s footsteps crunch along the forgotten gravel, his wary eyes scanning the site for his opponent, not knowing Draco sneaking up behind him until a single crunch warns him moments before the reptilian leaps.
Evoco ducks underneath the attack as Draco rolls through to his feet, leaping forward with a frenzy once more
ONLY TO BE GRABBED BY HIS SHADOW AND DRAGGED INTO THE GROUND BELOW!
Draco tries to struggle but the many hands hold tight as the Dark One rushes forward, delivering a mammoth spear that nearly crushes the reptilians ribs and sends both competitors tumbling down the gravel as they land hard on the abandoned space craft.
Evoco tries to mount Draco to continue the punishment but wild swiping from the reptilian send him backing off in a hurry
ACID SPRAY TO THE FACE!
Draco caught Evoco by surprise with that, the burning projectile seemingly blinding the Dark One as he staggers back in pain, Draco rushing forward once more claws extended.
AS HE LEAPS THROUGH WHERE EVOCO ONCE STOOD
The Dark One suckered in the reptilian, vanishing out of nowhere before he rises out of his shadow, stunning him with a knee to the back before delivering a brutal kick to the back of the thigh that sends a sickening crack throughout the wasteland. Draco screams out in pain but Evoco isn’t done as he grabs the reptilian by the waist
BEFORE SUPLEXING HIM ONTO THE ALIEN STEEL!
Evoco may well have broken Draco’s skull there but the reptilian manages to stumble up to one knee as Evoco raises his arms, the shadow behind the reptilian transforming as it transforms into the Dark Hammer. Evoco raises it high, spinning it
BEFORE HITTING DRACO SQUARE IN THE CHEST AS THE REPTILIAN VASNISHES INTO DARKNESS!
FATALITY!
The Shadow Maker sends the Reptilian to a terrifying ending in the Shadow Realm as he moves forward in the Deathstrike tournament
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: EVOCO [/edgtf_highlight]
Deep in the woods another battle arises between the feared Cruel Mistress and the wise and prophetic Whisper. Will the Predator find another prey or will she be just another soul to guide to a better tommorrow?
We fade in on the old shack, no sight of the competitors yet we hear the cracking of wood and muffled grunts and yells coming from inside before a figure flips through the doors moments before they’re splintered in half by the pounding of four massive legs tearing through them. A spiked foot comes within inches of the Shepard’s abdomen before embedding into one of the porch posts, stunning Ikkita enough
TO FALL PRAY TO AN ESSENCE STRIKE!
The soul staggers the Cruel Mistress back, destroying the post and damaging her pincer as black blood begins to slowly pool down her leg before she roars out a terrifying scream but Whisper focuses, calming his senses as Ikkita rushes up the wall, leaping over the balcony before trying to drop down behind the Soulborne.
Whisper avoids the Skitter, the acid melting another of the porch posts but it was a feint as thick web begins to cover Whisper, dragging him in close to the jaws of the ultimate predator…
SPECTRAL PORT! Whisper manages to throw out a soul across the porch, damaging another post as he does. Ikkita unknowingly chomps down right as the soul swaps places, the spectre exploding in her face as she stumbles back, taking out the last post.
AS THE BALCONY COLLAPSES ON HER!
Whisper just managed to slip out of the way as he raises his hands, spectral arms and claws lift up the fallen wood on the stunned Ikkita before they begin to tear her apart limb from limb. Bleeding out and helpless, the Cruel Mistress can only watch as her soul is torn from her body by the Soulborne.
FATALITY
The Shepard delivers another soul to judgement here tonight as he continues his quest to guide all these lost souls to a better place.
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: WHISPER [/edgtf_highlight]
Can The Deathboar turn the Prince’s sky red or will Lord Vega bring home the bacon for his realm?
Broog charges at Vega, looking for a big shoulder tackle but The Vain flips out of the way. Vega flips off the wall, tries to stab his claws into The Butcher’s back but Broog pivots and clocks Vega with a hook. The Warboar lifts The Vain and repeatedly slams him into the ground before tossing Vega away.
GROUND MEAT!!!!
Broog lines up his opponent, he charges in looking for that spear but Vega evades…
…and counters!!!
BEAUTIFUL SEVERANCE!!!
Broog staggers away, bloodied. Vega runs in, claw unsheathed…
VANITY FAIR!!!!
Broog rolls away and Vega’s claw is caught in a wall. Broog lifts Vega upside by the legs…
MEAT LOCKER!!!!
The Warboar is tenderizing The Sky Prince with those repeated body punches.
Broog lets Vega down and…
SINKS HIS TEETH INTO VEGA….
….TEARING AWAY A CHUNK OF FLESH!!!!
THE BIG BITE!!!!
The Deathboar spits out the chunk and chortles his delight. Vega The Vain roars that his perfect form has been blemished. He front flips over The Warboard, jams his claws into the pig’s back and German suplexes him to the depths!
BACKSLASH SUPLEX!!!!
Vega is seething and he’s not done. He runs at Broog, trying to jab his left claw into the boar’s heart…
HOG AT A BUFFET!!!!!
Broog explodes out of nowhere, a ferocious, high-velocity spear that LITERALLY cuts Lord Vega into two parts!!!
Blood sprays everywhere but it’s a perfect feast for the Deathboard who survives to progress!
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: BROOG [/edgtf_highlight]
Two survivors go to war tonight to gain a measure of immortality. One fights for himself, one fights for the memory of his race but which man will gain what he desires?
Both men step foot on the Netherbridge, smelling the fumes of death and feeling the opressive heat as Nekahual looks down at the certain death that lies below. His curious nature almost costing him as Daerdric has allready drawn his bow, raining down arrow after arrow at his larger foe.
Razor sharp arrows strike the Aztecans flesh but they barely bother him, rushing forward before spearing the elf high up into the air. Daerdric goes flying but doesn’t hit the stone until he’s gripped by the ankle in mid-air
AND THROWN HARD INTO THE BURNING STONE BRIDGE!
He screams out in pain, swiping out with his knife but only manages to deliver superficial wounds. Nekahual smiles from the pain before underhooking him and delivering a brutal knee that may well have crushed his ribs from the blood pooling from his mouth.
Daerdric struggles to his feet, refusing to give in but he finds a mammoth hand clutching his throat as Nekahual tries to drain the life from him.
BUT DAERDRIC SLASHES HIS KNIFE DOWN RIGHT OVER THE AZTECAN’S EYES!
Goo and viscera splash the stone as steel slides through the ocular like butter, Nekahual screaming in pain but only for a moment before that same knife finds it’s way into his neck, tearing open a large vein. The larger man stumbles on his feet, blind and losing blood as the Last sizes him up
BEFORE KICKING HIM OFF THE BRIDGE!
Nekahual screams in pain, his blood splattering onto the lava floor before he splatters onto the ground below, a crispy broken corpse
FATALITY!
Daerdric survives his war with the Aztecan tonight, sending him down to the fiery pit below and getting one step closer to immortalizing his race.
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: DAEDRIC [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#1c1c1c” color=”#ffffff”] CHAPTER IV [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “THE HALL OF PLANETS” [/edgtf_highlight]
The Hall of Planets – a large museum left in ruin and decay. Zeldor walks through the shattered glass doors into what’s left of the lobby, stepping on broken glass as he does. He heads towards the main hall, where monuments exist of worlds that have long been destroyed. It’s here that he stands, utterly stunned.
There have been so many worlds before ours. So many planets have existed and ceased to exist in this very universe. Where Eden now sits, a world called Terminus used to be. Zeldor wipes the dirt away from the plaque, revealing information about the planet that once existed in place of his own.
Now gone.
He continues to walk the main hall, soaking in the information set out before him. There are sixteen statues of current planets. They’re all here; all represented by someone in this competition – all bar his.
“There’s an anomaly,” he says to himself out loud. “Earth, The Abyssal Plane, Medveil, Machinima, HonorRealm, Ataxia, The Broken Spire, Reptillia, Qoort, Ionica, Skyrealm, The Shadow Realm, Skyir, Boswig and Arcana,” Zeldor says, walking past each planetary statue. “But that’s only fifteen planets. Eden makes the sixteenth, but we’re not represented. Who here, shouldn’t be?”
With that surprise in mind, he notices something out of the corner of his eye. It stops him dead in his tracks.
“What’s this?” He muses.
Broken into many pieces, a pair of seventeenth and eighteenth statues barely exists at the end of the row. The planets have no name or information, as if it they have been wiped from the hall of planets.
“ARRRRRGGHHH!”
Suddenly the roar of what sounds like a freight train rushes towards Zeldor, pouncing him through the nearest wall inside the hall of planets. He immediately hits the deck, bouncing away with the concrete explosion that followed his impact.
An impact that took him outside.
Slowly but surely, Zeldor gets himself back to his feet, dusting himself off. He looks towards his attacker, who steps through the hole in the wall, growling with intensity.
“You!?” Zeldor screams angrily – his first real sign of emotion.
It’s Maethor.
And Zeldor seems to know him.
“You’re the conqueror,” Zeldor says knowingly. “I watched what you did to Eden. I watched you butcher my denizens without so much as a shred of remorse.”
“And now I’m here representing Eden, The Ashens chosen warrior,” Maethor replies with a growl – still not showing any emotion. That’s right, Maethor is an Ashen. He’s the very Ashen, in fact, that Brobek spoke of sending at Ring of Dreams. Everything now makes sense… to us, at least.
Zeldor begins boiling with rage. His arms soon become covered in electricity, firing up and down him like neurons firing.
“You took my planet and enslaved my denizens. You destroyed a beautiful and peaceful world,” the enraged Zeldor roars at him. “And now I’m going to destroy you.”
Maethor laughs.
With a grunt, splutter and a groan, he actually laughs.
“You’re angry with me?” He says, as if he’s surprised by that. “You’re a God, you weaselly puss infected maggot. Where were you to stop us when we invaded your world? You could’ve ended our invasion. You could of stopped it, but you didn’t, did you?”
Zeldor, now almost covered from head to toe in electricity, suddenly simmers. What Maethor said must’ve hit him like an arrow to the heart because suddenly, he’s weakened. He falls to one knee, clutching at his chest.
“I… I couldn’t,” he stammers. “As a God, I couldn’t intervene. I could’ve saved them all, but I was forbidden.”
“HAH!” Maethor bellows. “You God’s and your codes. If only all of you followed them.”
The God looks up at him, confusion in his eyes. What does he mean by that?
“Now, it’s time to die, God,” Maethor says, cracking his hands.
WHOOSH!
Just then, in the knick of time, Barkada arrives.
“You refuse to fight with honor,” he says to Maethor with a shake of his head. “But I’m your next opponent and I will make you wish you had.”
Maethor chuckles.
Flash!
And Zeldor is gone.
Round two: fight!
Barkada draws his sword immediately and holds it steady in front of him, slowly circling around Maethor who hasn’t moved one inch.
Barkada lunges at Maethor and strikes—
MAETHOR SWATS BARKADA’S SWORD OUT OF HIS HANDS!
Maethor follows up with a massive palm strike that knocks Barkada backwards into a marble statue of a nondescript planet, the statue crumbling from the force and Barkada crumbling to the floor in pain!
As Barkada manages to his feet, jets of air begin to forcefully whistle out Maethor’s ventilation shafts, shooting him towards Barkada at high speed with a dropkick—
ROCKET MAN—
INTO THE MARBLE STATUE!!
Barkada ducked the missile dropkick and steps up to Maethor who is rising from the rubble…
UPPERCUT!
RIGHT HOOK!
KICK TO THE LEG!
ROLLING KOPPU KICK!
Maethor is stunned and Barkada immediately hops to his feet and grabs the big man’s head into a Thai Plumb—
ELBOW STRIKE!
OVERHEAD ELBOW!
KNEE STRIKE TO THE HEAD!
Barkada jumps up to finish off his combo—
JUMPING KNEE TO THE FACE—
LIMB BARRAGE!!
…
Maethor slowly lowers his head and gazes down upon Barkada—
THAT BARRAGE BARELY DID ANY DAMAGE!!
Before Barkada can make a move he notices a funny smell and sniffs the air a moment. A weird grey smog wafts through his space and it seems every move Barkada makes is suddenly in slow motion. He lifts his leg up to crane kick Maethor square in the chest…
But it’s too late.
HANDS ON!!
MAETHOR’S HAND JUST EJECTED AT HIGH SPEED AND DAMN NEAR KNOCKED BARKADA’S HEAD OFF!!
Barkada is down and not in a good way. He’s crawling, grasping for anything he can as Maethor stalks him from behind.
Maethor is out for blood.
But Barkada spots something a few feet away that gives him hope:
His sword.
Barkada reaches out towards it—
STOMP!
MAETHOR STOMPED DOWN HARD ON BARKADA’S HAND!
Barkada lets out a yelp as Maethor twists it in. His hand must be broken, as it has gone limp, but his hand is the least of his worries now…
Maethor grabs Barkada by the top of his mask and lifts him up in the air…
Energy begins to gather in the orb in Maethor’s chest, and Barkada reaches out for his sword one last time as the orb’s brightness reaches a crescendo—
A BRIGHT BEAM IS EMITTED FROM THE ORB INTO BARKADA!!!
THE END OF ALL THINGS!!!
BARKADA IS OBLITERATED—
ALL THAT REMAINS IS A TUFT OF HIS MASK!!!
Maethor advances to the semifinals!
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: MAETHOR [/edgtf_highlight]
Round two: fight!
Zagorthor wastes no time, drawing his sword as he sprints towards Evoco. Zagorthor stabs at the Shadow Maker—
THE BLADE IS MERE INCHES AWAY FROM EVOCO’S CHEST—
BUT ZAGORTHOR IS STUCK IN PLACE!
A multitude of hands have emerged from the darkness and have grabbed Zagorthor by the ankles—
DARKNESS BECKONS!!
Evoco parries the blade away during the distraction and charges full blast towards the Deathknight—
SPEAR ONTO THE PLATFORM!!
Zagorthor’s armor creates a crater in the bricks from impact. Evoco straddles his foe and lays into him with vicious left and right hand punches, slightly caving in Zagorthor’s helmet with each blow!
Evoco follows up with stiff kick to Zagorthor’s midsection, and then another— Zagorthor’s armor is barely protecting him from Evoco’s might!
The Deathknight of Qoort can only crawl away from Abyss, scratching and clawing his way step by step up the stairway to hell. Evoco is in pursuit though, and drops a karate chop on the back of Zagorthor’s neck that immediately stifles his movement.
Evoco bends down to pick up his fallen opponent, but is met with a sharp, iron-clad elbow to the face that knocks him back a step, and when Evoco comes back to attempt a second kick from the shadows Zagorthor pivots into an attack—
JUNSADO GROUND KICK!
EVOCO IS KNOCKED DOWN TO THE EDGE OF THE PLATFORM!
Zagorthor springs up and pounces on Evoco before he can regroup. The Dark Wizard shoves an elbow into The Dark One’s back and pushes his head over the side.
Below them lies a pit of spikes that would mean certain death if one were to tumble off the side.
Zagorthor laughs as he pushes Evoco inch by inch beyond the edge, Evoco’s upper body nearly completely off the platform.
Zagorthor pushes Evoco one final time…
BUT EVOCO HAS VANISHED!
Zagorthor glances to the left and the right, cannot see Evoco rising from behind him out of his shadow…
KNEE TO THE BACK!
Zagorthor arches his back in pain, dropping to his knees as Evoco puts himself in position to land a deadly blow…
BRUTAL KICK TO ZAGORTHOR’S HEAD—
FROM THE SHADOWS!!
ZAGORTHOR DROPS OFF THE LEDGE!!
Evoco drops to his knees in exhaustion, having barely escaped certain death. He leans over the ledge and looks down…
ZAGORTHOR IS SPRAWLED OVER A SEA OF SPEARS!!!
BLOOD IS GUSHING OUT OF EVERY ARMOR CHINK—
ZAGORTHOR IS DEAD!!!
Evoco advances to the semifinals!
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: EVOCO [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#1c1c1c” color=”#ffffff”] CHAPTER V [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “FROM THE ASHES” [/edgtf_highlight]
Exhausted and mentally broken, Zeldor zaps himself to the reclusive darkness of the battleworld. He’s in desperate need of recovery. As he takes a seat in the pitch black, blue tears begin streaming down his face. He watched as The Ashen tore his once peaceful planet apart, destroying everything he watched his denizens create.
Zeldor then watched as they tore those same denizens apart. They mutilated, enslaved, and tortured them.
He did nothing.
Not because he was evil or sinister. Not because he enjoyed what he watched. He didn’t intervene because Gods aren’t allowed to. Gods across the universe are built with strict instructions not to meddle in their creation’s existence. Sometimes many Gods would come together to make stronger bonds to this end and no-one, no-one in their right mind would break it.
Zeldor watched Eden become a hellscape and he did so because he believed he couldn’t do anything to stop it.
What Maethor said had struck a chord. Were there Gods in the universe that broke this rule? Were there God’s in the universe that intervened when they shouldn’t have?
What does Maethor know of Gods and why?
The pain felt in his soul soon became questioning and inquisitive. He began to realize why he was there; he began to understand just what exactly was happening with Deathstrike.
But to confirm it, he needed to speak to someone.
Round two: fight!
Broog brandishes his meat cleaver as Whisper takes in the smell of sweet, expensive petrol emitting from the pumps.
Broog charges Whisper with his cleaver, but The Shepherd sidesteps The Butcher’s advances. Broog’s cleaver gets stuck in the gas pump and before Broog can pull it out he’s met with a mule kick to the face!
Stumbling back wards, Broog trips over the gas pump line and Whisper follows in blind pursuit…
Whisper tosses what could only be described as a soul at the Big Pig—
AND IT EXPLODES UPON IMPACT!!
THE GAS STATION JUST WENT UP IN FLAMES AND THE POOR PIGGY IS GETTING COOKED LIKE A BIG MEATY SLAB OF BACON!!
Broog squeals and rolls around in an attempt to extinguish the flames whilst Whisper stands in wait.
Spotting a water hose on the exterior of the gas station, Broog scuffles over to it and douses himself in some high quality H2O. Again, Whisper throws a soul out towards Warboar—
WHISPER JUST TELEPORTED NEXT TO BROOG—
SPECTRAL PORT!!
HIGH KICK TO BROOG’S FACE!!
Broog crashes through the shop window into the convenience store and Whisper continues to stalk the pig. Out of desperation, Broog tosses a Snickers bar at Whisper, which he dodges, followed by a Five Hour Energy that plunks The Soulbourbe between the eyes!
Then Broog scatters some M&M’s on the floor, which Whisper briefly trips over before catching himself.
But a moment was all Broog needed.
BIG BITE!!
BROOG TOOK A CHUNK OUT OF WHISPER’S FOREARM!!
Whisper is reeling now, but Broog isn’t letting up. He picks up Whisper overhead and slams him into the counter—
And then slams him into the drink fridge—
AND INTO THE GROUND MULTIPLE TIMES BEFORE HURLING WHISPER THROUGH A DOORWAY INTO THE GARAGE!!
GROUND MEAT!!
WHISPER HAS BEEN TENDERIZED!!
Broog steps through the doorway and picks up a Ford F-150 that’s currently being worked on…
AND SLAMS IT DOWN ON WHISPER!!
THAT MUST HAVE FLATTENED HIM!!
Broog wipes his brow and rips open the garage door, walking away from the wreckage in probable victory…
But the pickup truck is floating in mid air!
A HORDE OF SOULS HAVE SHIELDED WHISPER FROM BEING CRUSHED TO DEATH!!
IT’S AN ETHEREAL BOND!!
Whisper motions his hand and the souls fling the truck towards Broog—
AND IT CRASHES ONTOP OF THE BOAR, PINNING HIM UNDERNEATH!!
Broog is crushed, and he’s pleading, begging for Whisper to finish him!
Whisper motions the soul horde towards the fallen piggy, where they enter his mouth…
SPECTRAL ARMS AND CLAWS TEAR OUT OF BROOG FROM THE INSIDE—
Whisper walks over to the wreckage and pulls Broog’s soul out of his lifeless body—
AND ABSORBS IT!!!
TO THE HERD!!!
Whisper advances to the semifinals!
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: WHISPER [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#1c1c1c” color=”#ffffff”] CHAPTER VI [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “SKYIR” [/edgtf_highlight]
Daedric sits preparing carefully for his upcoming battle. He’s in great ponderance, dwelling in the caves beneath the Netherbridge he once fought.
As fire rages him around him, he closes his eyes.
Flash!
It’s then that Zeldor appears before him.
The Lightning Lord approaches cautiously as Daedric opens his eyes – a skittish look on his face.
“Friend, I have not come to hurt you,” Zeldor assures him with a raised hand in white flag.
“What do you want?” The Elven replies curtly.
Zeldor takes a moment to compose himself. He knows that what he has to say may invoke a reaction.
“I met a monster called Maethor today. Something he said had struck a chord with me,” he admits. “Please, tell me of Skyir.”
There’s another pause. This one is completely down to Daedric, who lowers his head almost shamefully. He’s upset and seemingly has every reason. Zeldor approaches, taking a seat next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay, you can tell me,” he says calmly.
“Skyir was a beautiful planet; a world in which the Elven race lived happily. It wasn’t peaceful – but it was ours. We survived wars, we built a society, and we had families.”
He again lowers his head. Zeldor prompts him with a ‘hmm’.
“And then they came,” he grunts angrily. “The Ashen. They destroyed and mined my planet for resources. They enslaved my people and drove them to near extinction.”
That’s what Zeldor thought. That’s exactly what he thought.
“I’m sorry Daedric, I know this must be tough, but if your planet has nearly been exterminated, why are you here?” He asks.
“I’m the last,” he admits honestly, with a sense of sadness. “I’m the last Elven alive. The Ashen abandoned my planet and left me alive on it, thinking me dead. When I received the invitation, I was the only one left to take it. Rumour has it that they left me alive to tell their tale, so I’m making it my mission to immortalize and honour my people instead.”
Zeldor bows his head in respect.
“You’re an admirable Elven, Daedric – but I think I know why Deathstrike is happening; I think the Ashen are holding this competition to defeat the universes best warriors so they can invade the entire galaxy.”
Daedric looks up, his eyes widen.
“When they left my world, they spoke of their missions to Eden and the Godless Earth. We can’t…” he says angrily.
Zeldor nods.
“They’ve already taken my planet. We won’t,” he promises. “We won’t let that happen to anyone else.”
Round two: fight!
The dance floor shakes with each bump of the bass, strong enough to topple over any normal man, but Daedric and Boroteba stand tall on either side of the dark, dingy room.
Strobe lights mask the movements of each man as they work their way towards me another, while lasers provide a distraction that’s just waiting to be taken advantage of.
Boroteba moves at a deliberate pace and lunges at Daedric—
BUT NO ONE’S HOME!
Boroteba pauses before something hits him from his left—
JAB BY DAEDRIC!
Boroteba shoots an ice shard towards Daedric—
AGAIN NO ONE’S HOME!
Something smacks Boroteba from the right now—
ANOTHER JAB!
Boroteba shoots another shard that inevitably misses after Daedric swiftly dodges into the shadows again—
ZIG ZAG!!
DAEDRIC DROPS BOROTEBA FROM BEHIND!!
The Genocidal Prince is showing his frustration as Daedric darts off into the shadows once again. The flames on half his body are raging like an inferno, but this unintentionally lights the room up and out of the corner of his eye he just manages to see Daedric lunging at him—
GUILE KICK—
INTO AN ICE SHEATH!
Boroteba blocked the kick and Daedric falls hard onto the dance floor holding his foot. Daedric crawls away from Boroteba, trying to separate himself from his foe.
Meanwhile, Boroteba is heaving fireballs towards Deadric! The Last rolls to his left, narrowly avoiding one, and forward rolls away to avoid another. Boroteba is going to light this club on fire if he’s not careful!
Daedric avoids a third fireball, diving behind the DJ table, and when he peaks out over the top of it he sees not a fireball, but a massive ice statue being amassed in mid air…
THAT IS SUDDENLY HURLED IN HIS DIRECTION!!
GLACIAL CLONE!!
Daedric just dives away from the table at the last possible second as the glacier crushes the table, and the rave music comes to an abrupt halt.
RECORD IN THE FACE!!
Daedric threw the vinyl record like a frisbee into Boroteba’s face, stunning him for a moment before Daedric takes a chance and lunges right at his foe…
DOUBLE DAGGER SLICE TO BOROTEBA’S THROAT!!
It was the opening Daedric needed and he follows up with a—
SPINNING SUPERKICK!!!
DAED HAED!!!
Daedric decapitated Boroteba’s head clean off of his body, and the Prince of Fire and Ice’s dead lifeless body falls to the dance floor with a thud.
Daedric advances to the semifinals!
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: DAEDRIC [/edgtf_highlight]
Gods have perished and Warriors have fallen as we come to the penultimate round of Deathstrike. Will the Shadows roam free or will the protector of Haindór get one step closer to his true purpose?
Maethor slowly steps through the doors to the morgue, observing the cold steel all around before running his hands over various sharp instruments. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices one of the drawers slightly moving, as if something is inside. He slowly moves forward, incredibly wary before inching the door forward and opening the drawer.
To absolutely nothing inside.
SHADOW KICK TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD!
Evoco fooled the bio android there, delivering a brutal superkick that sends him flying head first into the steel. Maethor is dazed on his knees as Evoco tries for another but he manages to just get out of the way of the kick as the sheer impact nearly caves in the steel.
Maethor backs up, dodging rights and lefts before swinging a hanging light into Evoco’s face, breaking it into pieces as glass goes flying everywhere. The Dark One staggers back himself, trying to avoid the flying glass before he’s gripped around the throat
AND CHOKESLAMMED DOWN ONTO THE OPERATING TABLE!
All the wind goes out of the Dark One as Maethor keeps the grip around his throat, raining down hammer fists with his other arm as he tries to inflict pain and punishment on his foe. Evoco scrambles, raking at the eyes and clawing at anything he can get his hands on but he can’t even scratch Maethor’s ocular vision before a mammoth fist knocks him for a loop.
Maethor keeps the grip around Evoco’s throat before he looks for a tool to inflict more punishment and wraps his fingers around a particularly lethal weapon.
A surgical saw.
Maethor pulls Evoco up for a moment, only to slam him down once more before rearing up the saw and meaning to slide it down into the Shadow Maker’s skull.
BUT SAW ONLY MEETS METAL AS EVOCO MANAGES TO VANISH INTO THE SHADOWS.
Maethor looks around, trying to find out where his foe has gone as Evoco appears underneath the bio android, tripping him up as his jaw slams into the steel, stunning him for a moment before a brutal kick to the knee sends him crashing to the floor, still holding the saw.
UNTIL IT EMBEDS ITSELF IN HIS FACE!
The blade just misses Maethor’s eye but he’s still reeling in pain, slowly pulling the blade out of his face as fluid leaks down the side. Steam jets from his ventilation shafts as he rushes forward feet first but he only gets a few feet
BEFORE HANDS DRAG HIM INTO THE GROUND!
Maethor tries to struggle but he’s trapped by the shadows before a mammoth spear sends him flying back into the steel drawers. Maethor tries to stand but a sickening knee to the jaw nearly knocks him out cold before Evoco readies himself for the end.
He raises his arm as the shadow underneath Maethor rises and begins to transform into that mighty hammer. Maethor only having the strength to raise the arm still holding the saw before shooting it forward but Evoco manages to dodge the deadly fist. The Shadow Maker feels the hammer in his hands for a moment before raising it high
AS THE FIST RICHOCHETS OFF THE WALL, FLYING BACK…EVOCO CATCHING IT AS HE SLAMS IT INTO MAETHOR’S SKULL!
That may well have been driven into Maethor’s brain as the bio android is slowly fading away, barely able to register the hammer as it slams into his chest
And the bio android fades into the shadows.
For a brief moment, we flash to the shadow realm as the barely functional Maethor collapses to the ground, moments before he’s torn apart by creatures beyond our comprehension.
FATALITY!
The Shadow Maker endures here as he destroys the protector of Haindór and moves onto the finals of Deathstrike
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: EVOCO [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#1c1c1c” color=”#ffffff”] CHAPTER VII [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “DEATHSTRIKE CONTINUES” [/edgtf_highlight]
He’s dead. He’s finally dead. With the battle concluding, Zeldor zaps into frame, standing over the broken body of Maethor. His eyes are widened in surprise, as he looks around the viscera strewn location. The morgue is definitely the right place for this kind of destruction.
“Why is this not over?” He muses angrily.
A large screen before him flashes, announcing the next round of the competition.
“No!” He bellows. “This cannot be!”
From the shadows, Whisper, Evoco and Daedric emerge. There’s a sense of curiosity about them. None of them know what Zeldor knows, but they want to.
“You’re angry,” Whisper inquires. “Why?”
Evoco finds it curious too.
“Why’d you expect the tournament to be over because that creature is dead?” He asks.
Zeldor begins pacing, his hands on his hips. He knows something isn’t right. In his mind, once Maethor had died, the tournament would surely conclude – after all, The Ashen created it. They’re responsible, aren’t they?
“I’ve learned so much, and have such little time to share it,” Zeldor announces, but decides to share, none the less. “I thought this tournament was created by The Ashen to seek out the universes best warriors and murder them, so they could invade on their planets, as they did mine.”
Daedric steps forward, his surprise strewn across his face like Maethor across the morgue.
“But yet the finals are scheduled bar one,” he muses, looking at his next opponent, Whisper.
“Precisely,” Zeldor confirms. “I don’t understand it. I was certain the tournament would end with the death of their chosen warrior.
Everyone stands in silence for a moment. There’s an air of confusion and trepidation in the air. Deathstrike continues, but for Zeldor, it should’ve been over.
“What now?” Whisper enquires with a deep grunt.
Zeldor thinks about it for a moment. Even he’s a loss.
“Interplanetary travel,” he remarks with a stoic nod. “There’s only one place left for me to go and I’m afraid that means I’ll bid you all adieu.”
Zap!
“Wait!” Daedric shouts as he vanishes into the ether. “What about…”
“Us?” Evoco queries. “He’s a typical God, Daedric; he cares not for anyone else but himself.”
With that said, Evoco grunts and walks away, leaving Whisper and Daedric alone – in preparation for their fight that comes next in the Sewer.
The Shepard continues his quest to guide the souls of the fallen but he finds resistance now from a man desperate to bring back his race from the darkness.
We hear only splashing footsteps for a moment before the Whisper emerges from the darkness of the sewer tunnels. Carefully brushing his hands against the stone walls, he barely feels the rush of wind before a steel arrow slices down through the water inches from where he once was. Arrow after arrow begin to rain down as Whisper dodges them with grace before throwing a soul upwards in the direction of his attacker.
A green explosion crumples stones above as Daerdric leaps down, clinging onto the ceiling before diving down upon Whisper
TAKING HIM BY SURPRISE AS HE FLIPS HIM DOWN INTO THE WATER!
Whisper struggles as Daerdric tries to wrap his hands around his throat and choke him out in the sewage but a quick soul explosion staggers Daerdric back, allowing Whisper to kick him away and breath once more. The elf isn’t deterred though as he rushes once more at the Shepard who catches his charge
THROWING HIM INTO THE NEARBY WALL!
Daerdric slams hard into the concrete, trying to pull himself back up before Whisper begins throwing soul after soul at the elf, as green explosions send him back further and further into the concrete, threatening to bring down the entire tunnel around them. A pair of souls pull the hurting Daerdric out of the rubble before Whisper begins to light into him with flowing strikes, a hard elbow to the jaw, a floating knee to the ribs before a spinning backhand sends him collapsing into the water.
Souls pluck Daerdric up out of the water once more, throwing him backwards into the wall before Whisper begins summoning an extra large soul to truly harm the elf. Daedric slips out of the souls grip though, pulling out two knives and slamming them together in a shockwave that disrupts Whisper’s equilibrium before he rushes forward
AND DRIVES ONE OF THEM INTO WHISPER’S EAR!
The Shepard screams in pain, blood pouring from his ear as he can’t concrete from the pain and the disrupted shockwaves running through his head. Daerdric punishes him with brutal strikes, delivering a sickening knee that sends blood pouring down his face before pulling out a thick wire and wrapping it around his throat
BEFORE DRAGGING HIM DOWN INTO THE WATER AND TRYING TO DROWN HIM!
Whisper struggles under the wire, trying to break free of the choke but Daerdric has it in tight and the ringing in his head still weakens Whisper as he slowly but surely begins to lose conciousness, going limp underneath Daerdric’s hold before he’s lifted up onto the walkway and prepared for the honorable end.
Daerdric places the limp Whisper on his knees, placing his other knife to his neck as he prepares to tear it open
AS GREEN ENERGY EXPLODES UNDERNEATH WHISPER’S BLINDFOLD
Dozens of souls pull Daerdic back, pummeling him with strikes and blows before tearing the knife from his hands
AND DRIVING IT THROUGH HIS KNEE!
Daedric screams out in agonising pain as Whisper plucks the knife from his ear, green spectral energy healing the wound before flicking his fingers
As spectral arms and claws begin to tear Daerdric to pieces, chunks of flesh and bone flying all over the place before Whisper places a hand on the head of the barely concious Daedric
AS THE ELF’S SOUL IS HIS!
FATALITY!
Whisper guides another lost soul to paradise as he moves onto the final round of Deathstrike.
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER: WHISPER [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#1c1c1c” color=”#ffffff”] CHAPTER VIII [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “EARTH, THE FINAL FRONTIER” [/edgtf_highlight]
Flash!
With a zap of lightning, Zeldor arrives in the very last place you’d expect to find him – Earth, his final frontier. The journey was hard and has taken its toll on him. He’s exhausted and barely able to stand, instead slumped on the concrete outside a large building.
With Zeldor grounded and exhausted outside of the building, there are sounds of fighting heard inside before we see Vigour thrown unceremoniously into the streets, the guards looking worse for wear as they close the door behind him. The Jack of All Senses staggers to his feet, looking up at the building before walking away, wiping the dirt from his jacket as he does.
“Wait!” Zeldor calls out.
Vigour turns to look at him, his eyebrows raised. Zeldor tries to get back to his feet, only Vigour seemingly rushes to his aide. What compels him, only he knows.
“You look different,” Zeldor says with a sense of pride. “Happy?”
The Jack of All Senses smiles.
“Do I know you?” Vigour asks. “I feel like we’re connected.”
Zeldor chuckles to himself.
“For some time, I’ve felt a pull to this planet – a cosmic hand around my throat, dragging me here,” Zeldor says with a shake of the head. “I couldn’t figure out why. But now, everything seems to be in perspective.”
“I don’t understand,” Vigour says in confusion.
He releases Zeldor, who finally manages to stand on his own two feet. The God places a hand on Vigours shoulder.
“My name is Zeldor, and I am the creator of Eden,” he announces, much to Vigours utter shock. The Prince of Party almost stumbles at the reveal. “I am your creator, Vigour.”
“G-God?” He mutters in shock. “You exist?”
“I failed you, Vigour. I failed you all. I let The Ashen destroy Eden because I thought I couldn’t intervene. Now, I understand, Earth is Godless because they did intervene?”
Vigour nods.
“Yahweh, their Christian God, intervened in the apocalypse and stopped it. He caused something they call the Fall of the Gods and that led their to collective deaths,” he reveals.
Zeldor lowers his head in shame.
“I’m sorry,” he says shamefully to Vigour. “Will you come back home with me and make this right? I promise, I will reclaim Eden.”
Vigour thinks about it for a moment and steps backwards. There’s a sense around him that Zeldor immediately understands.
“I can’t,” he says. “The Ashen are coming to invade Earth. I couldn’t stop them on Eden because our planet was full of peace. No-one knew how to fight. Here on Earth, they stand a chance of repelling the threat. They stand a chance of surviving and I must do what I can to help them succeed.”
The God nods in respect, stepping away from Vigour.
“I wish you luck,” Zeldor says, summoning the lightning for his return trip.
Flash
And he’s gone.
The Deathstrike final commences, right here at Day of the Dead.
“You may be full of souls, but that doesn’t mean you have one,” Evoco warns.
Whisper chuckles.
“I’m going to send you back to the darkness, where you belong,” he replies.
They charge forward, lifting legs and arms to test each other. Evoco leaps with a knee strike that sends Whisper flailing backwards. He quickly rushes forward.
LEFT!
RIGHT!
ELBOW!
ELBOW!
ETHEREAL BOND!
A soul leaps out of Whispers body to protect him from the next strike, only Evoco grabs it, slamming it down into a gravestone.
Whisper steps out with a flurry of kicks.
High, low, LEGSWEEP!
Down goes Evoco.
He leaps back up and jumps a secondary Legsweep
FROM THE SHADOWS!
Evoco vanishes, rising out of the shadow behind Whisper and kicking him square in the back of the head.
Whisper stumbles forward, turning around..
SHADOW KICK!
NO!
WHISPER SLAMS DOWN ACROSS THE LEG!
CRACK!
YOU COULD HEAR THE BONE FRACTURE!
ETHERAL BOND!
A soul leaps out of Whisper, grabs Evoco and slams him over The Soulborne’s head, right into a fucking GRAVESTONE!
Evoco’s head smashes through the concrete, revealing a black ooze that leaks from the top of his mask.
Whisper walks over to finish this, but Evoco is too fast, grabbing a candle from the ground and RAMMING IT STRAIGHT INTO THE COVERED EYE OF THE SOUL BORNE!
He screams in agony, stumbling backwards and grabbing onto anything near by. He pulls an angel statue off a grave and PIERCES THE WING STRAIGHT THROUGH AN ONRUSHING EVOCO!
HOLY SHIT!
He rips it out violently, SLAMMING IT OVER HIS HEAD FOR GOOD MEASURE!
The Shadow Maker is reeling now.
SPECTRAL PORT!
WHISPER LAUNCHES A SOUL AT EVOCO AS HE RISES!
THEN SWITCHES INTO IT WITH A LEAPING PUNCH THAT SLAMS THE SHADOW MAKER INTO A NEAR BY WALL!
As concrete flies, The Soul Borne stumbles away and charges…
DARKNESS BECKONS!
THE SHADOW GRABS HIM! MULTIPLE HANDS REACH OUT OF THE DARKNESS AND STOP WHISPER FROM RUNNING!
SPEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRR!
EVOCO SPEARS WHISPER TO THE FUCKING GROUND!
Both men are down. The Shadow Maker rolls away, coughing up black blood inside his mask. This has been brutal so far.
They both know what’s on the line and get back to their feet.
Evoco reaches out and grabs a concrete cross, ripping it from the ground.
Whisper looks likewise to his right and snatches a tombstone from his.
They step forward.
TOMBSTONE TO THE HEAD!
NO!
EVOCO DUCKS!
CROSS TO THE CHEST!
NO!
WHISPER DUCKS!
THEY BOTH RUN AT EACH OTHER!
BOOM!
A MASSIVE CONCRETE EXPLOSION AS BOTH OF THEM CONNECT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY OF THE DEAD GRAVEYARD.
They both drop what remains of the concrete, Whisper though seems to have come out worse and is charged backwards into an empty grave by Evoco!
The Shadow Maker stomps away at his face and chest, driving him into the mud with every kick.
Whisper though, in desperation, reaches out and grabs mud from the side of the grave, flinging it into the face of Evoco.
That blinds him.
He gets up, stepping up Evoco to leap out of the grave with expert athleticism.
“You’re dead and buried now,” Whisper hisses, walking away.
FROM THE SHADOWS!
EVOCO APPEARS BEHIND WHISPER, COMING OUT OF HIS SHADOW…
AND HE DRAGS HIM FUCKING INTO IT!
OH MY GOD!
WHERE THEY HAVE GONE!?
THEY’VE BOTH FUCKING VANISHED!
Suddenly, they appear falling from the sky!
GEEERRMMMAAANN SUPLEXXXXXX!
EVOCO SUPLEXES WHISPER INTO THE FUCKING GROUND!
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!
SURELY THIS IS IT!
THAT MUST’VE BROKE HIS FUCKING NECK!
Evoco gets back to his feet and signals for the end.
Whisper rises, somehow, barely…
DARK HAMMER!
DARK HAMMER!
WHISPERS SHADOW BECOMES A GIANT HAMMER AND LENDS ITSELF TO EVOCO!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
ETHEREAL BOND!
SOULS FLY OUT OF WHISPER’S BODY TO PROTECT HIM, ALL OF THEM BLOCKING THE SHADOW HAMMER AND FORCING IT BACKWARDS…
RIGHT DOWN ON EVOCO!
WHISPERS SHADOW JUST SLAMMED DOWN ON EVOCO!
He slams into the floor and releases the hammer…
The Shadow Maker rises…
FINISH HIM!
TO THE HERD!
WHISPER FIRES A HORDE OF SOULS AT EVOCO! THEY RIP HIM TO FUCKING SHREDS! OH MY GOD! THERE’S BLACK FLESH FLYING IN EVERY DIRECTION!
Whisper absorbs Evoco’s soul!
Whisper has done it! Whisper has won Deathstrike!
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] WINNER OF DEATHSTRIKE: WHISPER [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#1c1c1c” color=”#ffffff”] CHAPTER IX [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “EVICTION” [/edgtf_highlight]
Zeldor returned home with such fervour that when he zapped into his palace in the sky, he came heavy, barrelling through a bookcase and slamming into the wall. His wife, Zantetcha, rushed to his aide.
“Zeldor, what on Eden is going on?” She queries in utter shock and confusion.
He can barely speak, moving himself to sit upright and catch his breath.
“Everything is a lie,” he grunts, slamming his head backwards into what’s left of the shelf behind him.
“I don’t understand?” Zantetcha questions, rubbing his shoulder.
“I can’t explain. I can’t even fathom an explanation, dear. We’ve sat and watched as these wretched Ashen have destroyed our world,” he bemoans with great sadness. “That ends now.”
Zantetcha immediately stands in defiance.
“No!” She roars. “You simply cannot interfere. It’s against our creation,” she reminds him.
Zeldor barely finds a way to stand but does so to meet her there at her feet.
“It doesn’t matter,” he retorts swiftly. “I’ve travelled our universe Zantetcha. I’ve spoken to warriors from sixteen of the eighteen planets that exist within it. We aren’t the first to be invaded by the Ashen – no, Skyir has already been dominated by their presence and left as dust in their wake.”
That revelation stuns his wife.
“When they’re finished here, Earth is their next port of call. I thought Deathstrike was a competition to understand the power of the universe, so they could invade them all, but I was wrong,” he admits, now pacing. “I was dead wrong.”
He walks over to his wife and places both hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eyes.
“The planet Earth is Godless,” he says carefully. “They broke the rules and suffered the consequences; but Earth still exists. They sacrificed their lives for those they created.”
“Please Zeldor, no,” she whispers. “I love our denizens as much as you do, but I cannot lose you.”
Zeldor leans in and pulls her close into a hug. They take a moment to feel each other, to breathe, before The God pulls away carefully.
“I want Eden back,” he says sternly, his eyes widen and heartfelt. “I can’t sit idly by and allow The Ashen to destroy us further. I’m going to evict them from our planet, Zantetcha.”
She looks sad, but nods – it’s as if she understands, despite her protests, just exactly what Zeldor must do.
“You understand that if you evict them from Eden, you will subsequently push forward their timetable,” she reminds him. “Earth will suffer as a consequence.”
He walks over to his closet, pulling out a large sword that when he touches, illuminates with lightning.
“That’s if there’s any of them left to invade,” Zeldor says with a deep breath. “Let’s go to war, my dear.”
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#1c1c1c” color=”#ffffff”] CHAPTER X [/edgtf_highlight]
[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#a55c67″ color=”#FFFFFF”] “COMPLETION” [/edgtf_highlight]
Somewhere in the universe, a large glass tower watches the tournament having unfolded. A woman enters the fray – again, her appearance shrouded in a mysterious dark cloak. She’s holding some kind of book, in which she intends to read from.
“The competition was a success,” she remarks, thumbing through the pages. “Fifteen warriors perished in their chase of excellence and one survived to be crowned Champion of Deathstrike. He will be a strong ally in what is to come.”
There’s silence. An eerie silence, only it becomes clear that it’s only silence to us. She on the other hand, can hear everything.
“Zeldor received our invitation. He investigated, as we suspected he would. Interestingly enough, he’s now fighting a war with The Ashen on Eden,” she says with a chuckle. “As you suspected, the temptation was too great.”
Suddenly, with another flash, the Deathstrike winner appears before them. He can’t move – in fact, he’s completely frozen, forced to drop to his knees by some unfathomable power.
The woman steps closer to him, standing before him and whatever made him bow.
“Congratulations on your victory,” she says with a stern tone. “It is with great pleasure that I’m able to see to you with your prize.”
“What is it? What is this?” Whisper asks with concern .
“This is the Glass Tower and your victory earns you a mission of the utmost importance,” she tells him.
“I just want to go back to my planet,” Whisper pleads. “I just want to go home.”
The woman laughs.
“No!” She growls. “You’re going to Earth, Whisper. But rest assured, your planet’s survival is guaranteed due to your victory. There will be no invasion of The Ashen on The Spire. You have my word,” she promises. “All you need to do is go to Earth and complete a mission.”
_ is suddenly allowed to stand. He nods in agreement, carefully and with thought.
“If I do what you ask and complete this mission, you’ll send me home and keep my planet safe?”Whisper asks.
She nods.
“Now, let me tell you about a man on Earth,” she continues.
Fin.