XMG

Midnight Sons HQ
Mohammed’s Quarters
Present Day

The people in the painting are only vaguely familiar now. He knows he knew them all once, a very long time ago, back in the carefree days, back in the days of love and peace. But those days are long gone, replaced by days of heartache and war. He knew them very well once, but now they only seem like ghosts of the distant past. They looked so happy, so innocent, so ignorant. Ignorant of the constant war which was, is, and always will be waged across reality.

The man in the painting Mohammed recognizes best of all, for it was he over 200 years ago. He almost laughs out loud, thinking of how that man has changed. He has aged of course, although not as much as you would expect a man to age over 200 years. His hair is now much shorter, now covered in the gray that was only beginning to come in, in small patches at the time of the painting. He had not only changed physically, but emotionally as well. He was a completely different person then, a simple man who only concerned himself with the well being of his family and community. Now he was a man of all of reality, concerned with the well being of all of the innocents of the many worlds, more than willing to lay down his life for all of them if need be.

He looks at his beloved Ilya. A beautiful, elegant, and strong woman who could melt your heart with her smile and scorch it with her glare. She didn’t deserve what she got. Mohammed will never forgive himself for what he had done to her.

He traces his finger over the face of the infant, the last person in the painting. His pride and joy, he was. His pride and joy, he always will be. He had never spoken very much to Angel in the 250 years of Angel’s life. They rarely saw each other and when they did their encounters usually ended with one of them being knocked off of something very tall by the other one. He had never gotten the chance to tell Angel how proud he was of him, how proud he was of him as a man and a warrior. Now he never will.

He traces his finger back and forth over the infants face. He feels tears warm in his eyes. He closes them tightly and frowns at his weakness. He then brings one finger up off of the canvas and slashes his fingernail across the infant’s face, ripping it away. He then carefully sets it back into his bottom desk drawer and places the lock back on.

“Two down, only one left. Only one.” He says to himself.

Two knocks at the door. Mohammed readies himself, putting on his game face once again even though he has no plans to let Neo see it.

“Enter Neo.”

The old door creaks, as it is slowly opens. Neo wrinkles his nose made of pure energy as the unpleasant odor of Mohammed’s dark and musty room hits his nostrils. His quarters never were very attractive. Mohammed liked things dark and old. Mohammed was sitting across the room behind his desk; his chair was facing in the opposite direction, never a good sign. It’s never good when Mohammed, Mr. Look-Me-In-The-Eyes-When-I’m-Speaking-To-You, didn’t even want to look at you.

“You wanted to see me sir.” Neo says, knowing exactly what was to come. He had aided The Evil One, XMG. Even if it was to help stop Apocalypse, Neo had ignored his mission and ordered the team to aid XMG, the very person they were sent to kill. And even worse a team member had been killed during Neo’s mission of defiance. Needless to say Neo was in deep shit.

“Yes I did. Neo, what were your orders on this last mission?” Mohammed asked, still not turning around.

“To execute the dual Holocaust’s, sir”

“Correct. And instead of following direct orders and executing your targets, what did you do instead Neo?”

“I helped them fight Apocalypse sir. Apocalypse! The on—“

“Bite your tongue!” Mohammed hissed. Neo hung his head. The last time he remembered Mohammed being this angry Neo ended up exploding and spending a year in Gehenna. “You helped them fight Apocalypse, disobeying a direct order and ultimately getting a teammate killed! Remember Gehenna Neo?”

“Yes sir.” Wow, if he didn’t know any better he would swear Mohammed was a telepath.

“Well then you will remember the horrible year you spent there last time you dared to defy my direct orders. Remember the horrible suffering pain you endured there non-stop. Remember that experience well, Neo. For if you ever defy me again you will be forced to relive it.”

“Yes sir”

“Also remember when I personally stepped into Gehenna and pulled you free. Remember the days following my trip into the pits of hell when I cared for you and nursed you back to health. Remember those days as well, Neo. For if you ever defy me again you will be preying for their return, and I can sit here and honestly assure you Neo that your prayers will go unanswered.”

“Yes sir. I’m eternally apologetic sir.” Neo said, cursing Mohammed’s name and blessing his own good luck. This could have been far worse.

“Of course. Where are they now, Neo?”

“Who sir?”

“You’re targets, where are they now, Neo?”

“We haven’t been able to locate them as of yet, sir. All that we know is that Apocalypse and Angel were both killed, which you already know.”

Mohammed dropped his eyes, saddened. “Leave my quarters at once Neo, and don’t come back until you have located them.”

“Yes sir. Once again I apologize sir.” Neo turned and left the room, leaving Mohammed alone with his dead children.

“So who wants to hit the guy first? Rigs? Sharkboy? Or should I do it?” XMG asked, staring at the man who still stood in their path with his sword drawn.

“I’ll lead this one if ya don’t mind X.” Rigley said, stepping forward.

“Go right on ahead Rigs, this should be about as interesting as a Jaik/Tokay love scene.” XMG said.

“What? What made you say that?”

XMG shook his head. “I…I really don’t know. It was like some horrible inside joke that even I was outside of.”

“Hmmm. Anyway” Rigley grunted as he brought his fists forward in the double punching maneuver to release his blasts of energy. His elbow cracked as he brought his arms out too quickly. He expected them to be slowed down by the force of the blasts…the blasts that never came out. Rigley grunted and looked down at his fists. “What the hell?”

The man, whose long green tights and poofy green poet shirt made him look like a reject from Sherwood Forest ran forward slashing his sword back and forth. Rigley yelped and jumped out of his way, sticking his foot out for the man to trip on which he did, falling face first on the soft dirt. Rigley stepped on his back to keep him in place.

“Nice one Rigs. In some alternate universe I’m probably very very impressed.”

“Hey! Don’t blame me, my powers…they aint workin. The sunlight gives me energy and there’s a shit load of sunlight…I don’t know what the problem is.”

“Hmmm, well lets see…” XMG tried to telekinetically strike Rigley in the face, but it wasn’t happening. “Mine don’t seem to be working either. How bout you Aquaman?”

Namor dusted off his hands and grunted in frustration. He had been trying to push over a tree, something he could have easily done any other day, but today it didn’t seem to be working. “I am called Namor, The Submariner, The Prince Of Atlantis, you will do well to remember it! My strength appears to be misplaced as well.”

“And you’d do well to put on some damn pants.” XMG mumbled.

Rigley took his foot off of the man who tried to arrest them, bent over, grabbed him by his green poofy shirt and pulled him to his feet. “Aight, who sent you and what did you do with our powers?” He demanded. XMG smirked.

“Me know not what you be speaking aboot. Me know you must be arrested.” He said.

“What did the land dweller say? I am often all at sea with you’re perplexing discourse. ” Namor asked, puzzled.

XMG crossed his arms. “He said ‘aboot’, we’re in Canada! Which explains the stupidity and weird clothes.”

“And the smell, but not what happened to our powers or who wants us under arrest.” Rigley said, he pushed the man back onto the ground and kicked him in the ribs real badass like. “Now one moa time, punk, who sent ya?”

“…I’d imagine the same one who sent all of them.” XMG said so softly, almost inaudibly.

Rigley looked up, his eyes widened and hands started to shake. He dropped the man again and smiled at the guests real innocent like. “Hey now. We was only foolin with em, no need to go all Braveheart on us…” Emerging from the trees, all around them were many more men dressed in olde fashion Nottingham clothes, all carrying swords, all looking mighty pissed off. Their skin came in many different colors: red, purple, pink, blue, black, white, yellow, purple, blue, black…

A tall one dressed in black, with pink skin stepped forward. “You hurt Lockley! Us angry! Us hurt you!” He screamed, pounding his sword into the sky with fury. “Charge!” And with that the men screamed all at once and dashed towards the trio, slashing their swords in anticipation. Rigley and Namor stood their ground, fists clenched, ready to die fighting as XMG picked The FrostBlade from the ground, still scarlet and sticky from Angel’s sacrifice, and started slashing the air with it, also preparing to die fighting.

One soldier leaped from the crowd and flew towards XMG, sword poised ready to strike. XMG leaped straight up in the air and swung the FrostBlade at his sword, knocking it out of his hands. XMG let go of The FrostBlade with one hand and used the free hand to punch the solider in the face, sending him to the ground in great pain.

Two soldiers confronted Namor at the same time, coming from opposite sides. The one behind him slashed his sword, trying to decapitate The Prince Of Atlantis, but Namor stepped out of the way. The soldier’s blade just missed the other soldier’s head by an inch. As the sword dropped down to the soldier’s waistline Namor hopped back into their path. He grabbed them both by the back of their skull’s and threw them into each other as fast as he could, which although he didn’t have his powers was still pretty fucking fast.

Rigley dived low at the solider that approached him first, tackling him to the ground and landing on his chest with a thud. He brought his fists up and down continuously punching the soldier in the face. All of a sudden his arms were grabbed from behind by two soldiers. The soldiers dragged him from off of their comrade and brought him backwards into a tree. Everything suddenly went black for Rigley and slowly came back into focus. Rigley stared straight into the gleaming eyes of a good old-fashioned sword. He cried out, loud. He was being held against the tree by the two soldiers while another prepared to stab him through the chest, lifting his large sword over his head about to plunge his sword deep into Rigley’s body. Rigley cried out louder, but was overshadowed by the sound of one of the shorter soldier’s yelling.

“HALT!!!” He yelled. Immediately all of the soldiers froze in mid-pose. XMG punched one in the face, and he fell over. Namor clenched his fists, waiting for a second strike. Rigley stared back at the sword, which was still pointed to at his chest, shook like an old woman w/ Alzheimer’s during an earthquake, and resisted all urges to piss himself.

The short soldier bounced into the front lines of the battle. His face was drowned in sweat, and he was panting like a dog. “Don’t….don’t you see…..they here to fix the king’s puzzle…they is from San Robina!”

“Ohhhhhh” The soldiers collectively moaned in acceptance.

The soldiers holding Rigley let go of him, as Rigley let out a long sigh.

“Yeah…yeah and don’t try it again or I’ll mop the floor with ya!” He said, putting on a front.

One patted him on the chest “Sorry”

“AAAAHHHH!!!!” Rigley screamed, and let a little bit of urine go.

The pink skinned soldier who was dressed in black stepped forward, “If you be ready we take you to the castle. The castle is big. The castle is white. The castle is w-wh-white. The king lives in the castle. Everyone likes the king for he is the smartest of all of us and owns the most gloves.”

XMG looked slightly confused. A second ago they were trying to carve them into pieces the size of Rigley’s penis, and now they were all buddy buddy? These people seemed to be too stupid to have the ability to trick them, and XMG always did like White Castle so he figured why the hell not. “Uh, yeah…sure…we’re ready.”

Seven brown beautiful horses approached with men riding on them. “Hop on the reindeer, Jimmy’s!” The man in black said.

Mohammed sits alone in his chambers, his elbows on his desk, and his face in his hands. He has been like that for over an hour, remembering. Remembering the only two women he had truly loved throughout his incredibly long life span. Remembering the lives and deaths of his sons. Remembering his darkest secrets.

Reality: D-555-S-7
Apocalypse’s Laboratory: The Dark Side Of The Moon
396 Years Ago

An Anointed team of 10 powerful mutants appeared in Apocalypse’s large facilities that day to destroy The Emah Virus before it had a chance to be released on numerous realities. Only two would be leaving however, and they would never be the same again. At the point we jump in The Anointed team’s numbers have already been split in half by Apocalypse, Holocaust, and the bloodthirsty hounds, which have been released all around the facilities.

Afentiko, Bryce, Hawkgirl, and Rock were huddled in a corner in a hallway on the 4th floor near an elevator. Mohammed was peering out into the hallway from the corner, seeing what was down in that direction. The lab room that contained The Emah Virus was somewhere on the 5th floor. Rock had been stabbed in the stomach with a small sword by one of Apocalypse’s workers a little under 20 minutes ago; he was now bleeding like a stuck pig, trying with all of the strength he could muster not to literally scream his guts out. He was immobile in his weakened state, so weak that he couldn’t even transform into his hard mountain rock form, which was his namesake.

“We must move now.” Afentiko mumbled so low that only his teammates could hear him and just barely. “This floor is filled with hounds, and they can no doubt smell Rock’s blood.” His voice was calm and emotionless, just as always…well almost always anyway. He looked very plain, brown hair buzzed short almost to the point of baldness, hard brown eyes. He wasn’t a person you would take a double take at, an ordinary looking guy. Of course that was just a cover, a shell. Most other men would have gone mad with the thoughts that plagued his mind every day, the fates of countless others in the palm of his hands twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

“There is a lift down the hall at approximately 31 feet.” Mohammed whispered back to his teammates. This Mohammed was almost an entirely different person from the one he would be 396 years in the future. Like the rest of the team he wore the tight fitting single pieced black leather uniform that The Anointed required in those days. His face was kind as always, thin lips almost always facing upwards in a grin, beautiful blue eyes almost always shining. His thick brown hair was pulled backwards in a ponytail. He turned back to his teammates and looked into the eyes of Afentiko, his team leader and dearest friend. “There are no obstacles in our path as far as I can see. If we are going to move it must be now.”

“But Rock cant even stand up…I think he may have passed out.” Hawkgirl said sadly with a frown. She was a feisty and beautiful woman with reddish brown hair, brown hair, and angelic wings. Angel would have liked her if she hadn’t died long before he was born.

“I’m awake.” Rock chocked out, blood dripping from his mouth. “I just can’t seem to move. You guys get up there. Destroy the lab. I’ll blow the floor when you leave so you can’t be followed.”

“Woah there buddy lets not play the martyr game just yet. You still have time and we may need this floor to get out.” Bryce, Mohammed’s son said. His hair was short, brown, and often messy, looking like he had just woken up. His eyes were the same beautiful blue as his father and future younger brother’s. Bryce was the reason for Mohammed’s constant smile. His mother had died when Bryce was only 7 years old, and Mohammed had raised him in The Anointed HQ to be a man of honor and an exceptional soldier. Now at the age of 21, it appeared that Mohammed had raised him right. He was the future of The Anointed, and the apple of his father’s eye.

“I could carry you Rock, and you could be watchman once we enter the laboratory.” Said Afentiko. “Any word on B-Team Hawkgirl?”

“No. No I can’t get a lock on them.” The beautiful winged warrior answered solemnly, she had been working on her telepathic abilities recently. They still needed some polishing, but not enough that she didn’t already know the truth. B-Team was dead.

Mohammed turned back to the group with a wide-eyed frantic look that immediately grabbed everyone’s attention. “Red alert! Red alert!” he shouted softly. “Apocalypse and hounds are approaching from down the hall. We’re cornered”

Everyone’s eyes grew in horror. Afentiko remained calm, “We need to fall back then, back down the hallway. I’ll carry Rock.”

“How are we going to get to the elevator now?” Hawkgirl asked.

“We’ll have to figh---“

BOOM

The wall behind them boomed down and crumbled, chunks of it scattered about the floor. Afentiko scooped Rock off of the floor using his super speed and just barely got him out of the way in time. Standing there in place of the wall was a truly malefic figure if there ever was one. He stood nearly 7’ and weighed in at about 245 pounds of blue chiseled muscle, which was covered for the most part in an ominous black cape draped over his body. He smiled through dark brown eyes and a hideous grin that struck nothing but fear into the hearts of the mortal ones that viewed it. He was XMG, otherwise none in this world as Holocaust, the son of Apocalypse.

Mohammed’s eyes widened with something that couldn’t be described as fear. Sure he was frightened for the lives of his son, himself, and the rest of the team, but looking into the dark striking eyes of Holocaust didn’t bring forth this emotion in the least. Hell this was the first time he had ever seen a version of XMG in this reality or any other. For Mohammed it was almost like his eyes widened in realization, almost like he realized that this wicked young man would shape his future today. This dark presence had the future of Mohammed, The Anointed’s finest agent in the palm of his cold navy hands. He only felt it for a second, just a split second before the blinding fear kicked in.

Holocaust whispered one meaningful and grave word, which stuck with the survivors for more than a normal man’s lifetime, “Stuck.”

Rock dropped from Afentiko’s arms, landing on his feet. Hawkgirl and Bryce stepped forward brandishing their fists. Afentiko and Mohammed stared straight ahead, expressionless at Holocaust and then turned back to see Grumpy The Smurf himself leading his pack of hounds around the corner. Apocalypse smiled, a wide disturbing smile just like his sons. The Anointed stiffened their fists, and warmed up their powers. If they were going down today it wouldn’t be without a fight; and yes, most of them would be going down. Mohammed stared into the eyes of the big bad, Holocaust, as Afentiko stared into the eyes of the bigger bad, Apocalypse, none of the men blinking. The doomed trio shook in their boots, as Apocalypse held onto the Hound’s leashes with an iron grip that failed to keep them still and quiet. This is what it was going to come down to. These five brave souls stood between the well being of reality and a madman’s virus that threatened to wipe it out. This is what it was going to come down to.

Afentiko whispered one meaningful and grave word, which stuck with the survivors for more than a normal man’s lifetime, “Fight”

Chains hit the ground with a clank and were dragged quickly across the floor. Rock somehow found the strength in himself to power up into his rocky form and began swatting The Hounds across the hallway. Hawkgirl extended her long silver battle staff and hovered above the battle scene, taking out hounds while attempting to make her way towards Apocalypse. Bryce used his unique mutant power, which he inherited from his father by grabbing onto the first hound he could get his hardened hands onto and sucking some of the energy into himself, becoming part man part hound, an animalistic weapon of passion and fury, and Mohammed’s pride and joy. He let out a howl as claws extended from his fingertips and his teeth sharpened. His striking face sprouted hair mostly on the cheeks, and his eyes changed from a bright blue to an even brighter yellow.

Afentiko went straight for Apocalypse, using his super speed and strength to push through the shuffle of his teammates and Poccy’s hounds like it was a crowded day at the beach. Afentiko struck Poccy once in the face with an amazingly powerful punch that only managed to make Poccy turn his head. Apocalypse scowled and brought his fist forward into Afentiko’s nose, splashing it all over his face and knocking him clear across the room.

Almost on some sort of eerie instinct Holocaust went straight for Mohammed, diving onto him. Mohammed was ready for his attack and was able to flip Holocaust over onto his back with his feet when they hit the floor. They both leaped to their feet and sprang towards each other. Holocaust transformed his limbs into long swords and started slashing away at Mohammed who jumped backwards, able to save his limbs but not his chest, which was carved up badly.

As Mohammed dropped to his knees, Apocalypse made his way through the hallway’s battlefield and towards The Anointed’s team members, Hawkgirl in particular. The Hounds had managed to pry her from above the battle with their deadly jagged teeth and claws and had now pounced onto her. She still had a fighting chance, however her wings were completely useless, torn to damn near shreds. Her high-pitched screams of horrible pain and determination tore at the hearts of her teammates. Apocalypse swooped in to deliver the final blow. The hounds flocked away as their dark master approached. A single tear glided down her scratched cheek as Apocalypse caressed it softly, with a smile of darkness on his face and a song of death in his heart.

“Geeet away from her!” Rock screamed, diving into Apocalypse and punching him in the small of his back. He was so weak it merely startled The High Lord.

Apocalypse’s smile widened and he turned around to meet Rock, who had collapsed onto his knees, looking pathetic. “Your weakness amuses me, boy. But not as much as this.”

“Go Hawk.” Rock whispered with his last breaths. Apocalypse placed his right hand under the hardened chin of the agent and with one upwards pull, plucked Rock’s head right off of his body. Blood poured from the spine and dropped onto the linoleum floor in clusters. Rock’s face was soft and peaceful; like he had finally found peace that had eluded him his entire life. He dropped the bloody spine onto the cold linoleum, brought one black boot up, and stomped on Rock’s head with a crunch, spreading Rock’s head and brains in a wide radius under Apocalypse’s feet.

Hawkgirl, the only member of the team that saw this tragic and disturbing turn of events, lowered her head in despair. Her reddish brown hair grew more and more red as lay against the ground. Apocalypse grabbed her by her face, lifted her up and shoved her backwards violently, letting her go and fly backwards down the hall. He cackled menacingly as her screams echoed on the walls.

Afentiko opened his eyes, hearing the cries of a teammate in jeopardy. He saw Hawkgirl flying past him overhead. She was going damn fast. She was going too damn fast. At this rate she would hit that window at the end of the hallway.

CRASH, glass shatters.

A cold chill rushes through the room as the oxygen is sucked out. For the ones inside it feels as if the oxygen is being sucked from their own lungs. Apocalypse laughs and vanishes from sight. Hounds choke. Holocaust’s eyes widen and he instantly vanishes from sight. Mohammed drops onto his back only to be quickly whisked up by Afentiko. Bryce runs to the elevator and pries the doors open with his claws. He tumbles inside and falls over. Afentiko carries Mohammed inside. The two collapse as the door closes. The surviving trio pants for oxygen.

“…My god….” Bryce said between pants. His voice was quivering. He was scared for his life and grieving for the loss of his teammates. “…he killed them….he killed them in under a minute….Hawkgirl and Rock are gone.” He lowered his head. The elevator began traveling to the top floor. Mohammed put his hand on his son’s shoulder.

“We’re close to the laboratory now. Tool up.” Afentiko said after a second’s pause. He was always the one who would say the things the others couldn’t.

Mohammed rubbed his son’s shoulders as Bryce stared at the green padded floor. “He is right” Mohammed said. “We have to get going.” The elevator dinged. The trio opened up their utility belts and retrieved what they planned on using to destroy The Emah Virus: explosives, lots of them, grenades, sticky bombs, time bombs, the works. The elevator opened.

Bryce (who was now back in human form) looked out into the hallway. The only lighting came from the elevator and the sparkling stars outside. It was dark, empty, and lonely; the coast was clear. The laboratory, their goal, was right ahead.

“Coast is clear.” He whispered. He looked back at the ever-calm Afentiko who waved him ahead.

The hallway was quiet. The hallway was too damn quiet. Less than two minutes ago on the 4th floor, two people died followed by all of the oxygen being ripped from the entire floor. Now, on the 5th floor there wasn’t a damn sound besides the subtle squeaking of three pairs of leather boots against the linoleum floor.

Bryce paused in front of the cold steel door and looked into the lab. It was filled with carts full of test tubes full of a thick green liquid, The Emah Virus. The room was full of test tubes and death, but no people or hounds. Bryce blinked; he smelled a trap. “Coast is clear” he whispered, he said it slower this time.

“In and out then. No time for doddling” Afentiko said. He and Mohammed grabbed the dual metal bars and twisted them to open the door. It closed it softly behind them.

The room was a factory of death. Rows after rows, columns after columns of carts holding small green test tubes. Just one of those tubes had the power to wipe out any life in a 25-mile radius in under 2 days. This was exactly what The Anointed had been assembled for, Mohammed thought to himself: to protect reality against threats such as this. Team B, Rock, and Hawkgirl had died for it. He would die for it if need be. He had raised his only son, the thing he loved more than anything else in all of reality to believe in it. The well being of others always came before your own, he had said it to Bryce often, and now the boy was learning it first hand.

He watched his son move swiftly around the room, like a cat. He jogged into a row of carts, laid down a bomb, and moved to another. He would make a great agent some day soon. He was so proud. Mohammed continued watching his son move about the room, laying down bombs, unaware that this would be the last time he would ever do so.

Why is it that the big moments always seem to happen in slow motion?

As Mohammed ducked down to lay down a bomb, he looked up. Even to this day over 300 years later he doesn’t know exactly why he looked up. Paternal instincts perhaps, only if he had any real ones Bryce would never have stepped foot in that room.

Bryce paused, holding his next bomb in his hands and stared at his father. They shared one last silent stare that seemed to go on for an eternity. Maybe they both knew at that moment that one wouldn’t be making it out of there, but there was no way they could have. Everything was going fine thus far. Everything was going fine until Mohammed saw the shadow drop down behind his son. Mohammed squinted his eyes. Why did he squint his eyes? Why couldn’t he have tackled Bryce out of the way? Holocaust’s large blue figure came into view.

That smile. If you had to pinpoint the one instant when Mohammed’s sanity started to decay it was the moment Holocaust revealed that sinister smile. He actually took pride in causing pain to others. He took pride in ripping sons from their fathers. This was something he enjoyed. He had to be stopped. All of them had to be stopped.

Holocaust reached far in front of him and grabbed Bryce, Mohammed’s only son by the back of the neck. Bryce didn’t even have time to change his expression. With sheer brute strength Holocaust tossed Bryce behind him, that goddamn smile never leaving those goddamn lips.

All Mohammed heard before the shattering of the glass and the banging of the steel cart was his son’s yelp. It reminded him of one he would do as a small child. He would yelp like that when he was frightened. Mohammed wished that he could make it stop. He wished that he could take him inside and patch up his wounds. He suddenly wished Bryce a normal life. Bryce crashed into a nearby cart, sending it crashing to the ground. Steel banged, glass shattered, Bryce screamed. A thick green vapor began to rise from Bryce’s location. Holocaust gave Mohammed one last haunting smile and vanished from sight.

Why is it that the big moments always happen so fast?

“NO! Bryce. Bryce!” Mohammed screamed in terror. His baby boy looked back up to him with baby blue eyes. He could hear his skin fizzing and popping. Mohammed lifted one leg. The other never hit the ground. Oh god, how he wished the other had hit the ground. He could take Bryce inside, get him washed up, read him a story, and send him off to bed. Then they would wake up the next day and start over again. If only that leg had hit the ground. Afentiko whisked Mohammed up into his arms and charged out of that room like a bat out of hell. He dropped him outside the door, and slammed it shut.

“No. Bryce. Bryce is in there.” Mohammed mumbled incoherently.

“Bryce is dead.” His best friend replied.

“Dad.” He could hear him weakly from inside. Mohammed rushed to his feet as Afentiko slapped something on the door and locked it. Mohammed ran right into Afentiko, who struggled to hold him back.

“Open the door.” Bryce said feebly. “Please dad.” His skin was popping, fizzing, Mohammed could hear it. Afentiko was in his way. He couldn’t see him. He couldn’t see his son for one last time.

“Outta my way! Out of my way dammit! Out of my way now!” Mohammed screamed insanely.

“I cant do that, there’s a bomb on the door Mohammed! There’s a bomb on the door!”

“What!?! No! Why is there a---“

That was the last thing Mohammed heard for a while. The explosion damaged his hearing pretty badly. Afentiko had barley got them out in time. Afentiko had saved the life of his best friend and himself, but in the process had killed his godson and permanently damaged Mohammed’s psyche. Bryce was gone forever, and the way Mohammed saw it Afentiko was partially to blame. Mohammed never forgave him for that. Mohammed never forgave himself.

XMG never liked horses, which isn’t surprising because he never liked most anything. He had never actually rode one besides today but he never really wanted to. It looked like you kept bouncing around on top of dammed thing, which probably hurt your nuts a lot. He had once said that he would die a happy man if he never had to ride a single damn horse in all of his life. Well he didn’t die a happy man, but he also never rode a single damn horse in all of his life. At least not until today anyway. He would have hovered himself slightly above the horse’s saddle if his powers hadn’t vanished. So all he could do now was bite his lip and take the pain, and boy it was a lot of pain. He could swear he felt blood coming from his lip from the harshness of his bite.

The seven horses galloped throughout the countryside of the strange world. XMG, Rigley, Namor, The pink skinned soldier, and 3 other soldiers were on the backs of these horses. XMG and Pinky’s were in the front of the pack, followed by Rigley and Namor’s, and followed by the rest. They had already ridden through a small village and were now traveling through the woods, on the way towards the castle. The trees were tall, providing a lot of shade, which was nice on a hot day like this one. Every once in a while they would pass a cave and XMG or Rigley would wonder what was inside.

“So how much further is this place?” XMG asked. These were the first words spoken in a little less than five minutes.

“Why? You getting tired? You can’t hack it? Your not really one for horses are you?” Rigley teased.

“It is very not far now.” The pink skinned soldier said with a smile.

They were approaching a cave now. It was taking a lot of XMG’s willpower to not scream out in pain as his horse begun to speed up some more. “Good.” He said. “Because I swear in a couple of minutes I’m gonna be digesting my nuts. And if you couldn’t tell I’m not talking about peanuts or walnuts or anything like that. I’m talking about testicles dammit and you aint supposed to digest testicles.”

“Why I once digested testicles!” Pinky announced triumphantly. “No. No I apologize. I was thinking of bread.”

They were right outside of the cave. “Well that’s great Pinky Lee.” XMG said. “I’m glad eeevery---AHHHHHHHH!!!!” XMG cried out. His head was pounding. It felt as if the thoughts inside of his mind were threatening to bust out and spill his brains all over the grass. And worse, these weren’t just his thoughts, but somebody else’s. Somebody sad, somebody in a lot of pain. “Awwwwww!!!” He moaned as he slowly toppled over and off of his horse, falling on his chest and onto the ground directly in front of the cave. Whatever was happening it was because of something inside of that cave. Something sad. He recognized this feeling in his head: it was a telepathic backlash. Why would he be having a telepathic backlash when he had lost his telepathy?

XMG didn’t notice the horses stop or Rigley and Pinky get off of their horses and help him to his feet. He simply opened his eyes and he was standing in their arms, confused.

“You OK blue boy?” Rigley asked, scared but also a little amused.

“Yeah I think so…” XMG replied. He looked at Pinky who was staring at a butterfly that had settled on a tree branch nearby. “What’s in that cave?”

Pinky turned to XMG, smiling serenely; it was a very pretty butterfly. “That cave is a prison. A prison for….” He looked over his shoulder for a second to make sure nobody was around. Of course there were 7 horses, 2 strangers, and about 20 soldiers around, but Pinky wasn’t a very intelligent guy. “…The Bad One” He said those words with a fear in his eyes that suggested to XMG that they were forbidden…the words I mean, not his eyes.

“And who is The Bad One?”

Pinky growled slightly and wrinkled his brow. “The Bad One is The Bad One and is in prison forever and must never ever be visited or freed by anyone! Not even the king, himself! Now we got to get going, the king is expecting you!”

“Alright, OK, OK!” XMG yelled. Rigley was getting back onto his horse. Namor groaned in annoyance. “I was just asking a question, Jesus Christ, don’t bust your nut.” XMG rubbed his head and gave one last look into the dark cave. He could see nothing inside. He could hear nothing inside. He could sense something inside, however. Whatever was in there was sad, lost. He dusted himself off and hopped back onto his horse. He immediately wished that he hadn’t, biting his lip as the group started to get going again.

Trot Trot Trot Trot Trot Trot Trot Trot Trot Trot

The horses traveled through the woods towards the castle at a moderate speed. They would enter the castle in under 10 minutes. The party of soldiers and lost boys could see the superb white towers poking their way into view from behind the trees.

The castle had 4 towers, built amazingly tall. The castle itself was tiny compared to the castles you all are used to seeing. It actually looked foolish, the small castle, being surrounded on all four of its corners by towers that dwarfed the palace to say the least. The 2-story fortress was made entirely out of white stone. Small sections of it had been marred by age but most of it withstood its color. It was surrounded by a white stone wall with a large uninviting wooden door in the very front, which served as the main entrance onto the grounds. The door was so large in fact that it had to be wheeled down from the inside by whoever was assigned to guard the door on that given day. There was a great deal of land between the stone wall and the castle itself. Occasionally wild parties would be held in this space.

“Who is it!?!” The guard at the front entrance yelled. The group had assembled directly in front of the wooden entry.

Pinky stepped forward, “Its us!”

“Who is us!?!”

“Hmmmmm…I don’t know! Allow me to check!” Pinky yelled, before he turned back and whispered “Do we know an Us?”

The soldiers looked amongst themselves, shrugged, shook their heads “no”, and said things like “No.” “I don’t know an Us.” “Who is Us?” “I’m hungry” and “Pearl Jam rules!”

XMG looked annoyed “Oh my god.” He stepped forward. “Were here to solve the king’s puzzle!”

“Oh! …so you don’t know who Us is?”

“NO!” Rigley screamed from the back.

“OK! I’ll let you right in then!”

The door rolled down, making a horrible creaking noise that made XMG, Namor, and Rigley hold their ears. The guard, a very tall, very skinny, man with green skin and a handlebar mustache smiled.

“The king has been waiting for you for a very long time.” He said. “We are glad you have finally come. We were going to have a picnic, but nobody could find Nick in time so we had to pick Jonas instead.”

Rigley blinked “What the hell did yo—“

XMG groaned a little “Just never mind, Rigs. It’s not important. Take us to your leader Yosemite.”

The guard smiled that brainless far off smile that everybody seemed to have around there. “Follow me, he will take you to the king.” The guard turned around and walked a few feet to a group of people: two huge green skinned men in knight suits and a much shorter, much pudgier man in a long purple robe with a sheet of tin foil laid out neatly on top of his bald head. He looked like a normal human (except for the whole tin foil hat thing). “This is our king, King Jude of Illithios.” The guard said, motioning towards the short man.

King Jude smiled pleasantly “Hello strangers. Your arrival fills me with a strange gassy feeling that I will interpret as happiness.” The guards stepped back.

“Uh, thanks. You fill me with farty feelings too.” XMG said.

“Yeah. Hi. Thanks.” Rigley said.

“I do not thank any of your kind, surface dweller and soon I will slit the throats of the whole miserable lot of you.” Namor said, conversationally.

The King’s smile did not fade “I will slit your throat as well. Well I trust you will be able to solve my puzzle? I have been wrestling for it for many a months.”

XMG smiled a big fake smile. “Of COURSE! I mean me and Rigs, we used to solve what maybe 50, 51 puzzles a week. Aint that right Rigs?”

“A day even.” Rigley said patting XMG hard on his bare back and nodding quickly. XMG bit his lip and the slap echoed off of the stone walls. “There was that big…that big…puzzle.” He cleared his throat. “…that big puzzle…that we solved…remember?” He smiled nervously.

“Yeah! Sure I do Rigs! That HUGE puzzle!”

“That’s the one”

“Man, I can’t remember what it was of though, can you Rigs?”

“Well…”

“OF COURSE! It was of your mother’s ass! That huge jigsaw of your mother’s huge wide ass!” He nudged the king’s arm playfully. “I mean Rigley’s mom has the widest ass you’ve ever seen! I remember once, me and the ‘ol bag went out to this deli on 64th and Tessa and I says to her I says “Gee Mrs. Rigley why is your ass so damn wide?” and she says, get this, she says, “Well I’m not sure XMG. Maybe he eats too much grass!” HA!” Dead silence. “…ya see because I was talking about her goat…not her butt…anyway about that puzzle!”

“Yes the puzzle!” King Jonas declared, “The puzzle that even the glorious King Jonas himself cannot solve! A million men have been brought over from a million kingdoms and all have failed and paid with their lives! But now it is your turn!”

Rigley blinked hard, “Wh-what was that last part?”

“AND NOW THE PUZZLE!!!” The king cried out. Horns sounded from out of nowhere. The trio jumped at the sound of them. Namor gritted his teeth and tensed his fists, awaiting a battle. Rigley stared at XMG with anger and fear in his eyes. How the hell did he get into this? XMG gulped awaiting the puzzle. “…Mary, Jane, and Joyce are running a race. Mary is faster than Jane. Joyce is faster than Mary, but only on Tuesdays. On every other day Mary is faster than Joyce. Yesterday was Monday. Who wins the race?”

The trio blinked. “Joyce?” they said in unison.

“Joyce?” The king asked himself; he thought it over for a second. “Why yes! Yes it would be Joyce! You have solved the puzzle!”

“HORAYYYYY!!!!!!” A cheer rose up from behind the palace walls.

Mohammed shuddered at the feeling of the stray tear sliding down his cheek. It was so strange. He had long forgotten that warm, wet feeling of teardrops. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried, but Bryce’s death brought it out of him. He raised his palm to his cheek and rubbed at it for a second. Then he proceeded to bring his palm back and strike himself hard in the cheek. SMACK! He did it again. SMACK! He did it 3 more times, his face crazed, irrational. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! His cheek was numb, but still he did it once more with feeling. SMACK! His ears were ringing, his cheeks were red and numb, his eyes watered in pain. But he was right to do it. Sadness is just another word for weakness.

A knock at his chamber door.

“Enter.”

Mohammed turned around in his chair, facing away from the door and looking at the mural of earth on his wall. Whoever it was he didn’t want em to see him with wetness in his eyes.

“It’s me, sir.” It was Neo.

“Have you located them yet?”

“Indeed we have sir.”

Mohammed smiled. “And where are they Neo?”

“We have tracked the dual holocaust’s to a reality we have yet to venture into, sir. Reality M-956-V-3.” Mohammed’s heart skipped a beat. “They are located on planet Earth in a small community by the name of…”

“Illithios.” Mohammed finished gravely.

“Y-yes. Illithios.”

Mohammed let out a low sigh of…fear? He barged up at once, turning around and pushing past Neo towards the doorway.

“How large shall the team be, sir?” Neo asked, slightly confused at Mohammed’s behavior.

“There will be no team, Neo. I will trek this one alone.” Mohammed stormed out of his chambers and into the hallway, leaving Neo deeply confused.

Fireworks exploded lighting up the night sky. Music flared. People sung and danced. The castle’s entrance was alive that night as a party was held in honor of the glorious godlike three who had solved the king’s puzzle. In the middle of the fair grounds was a large bonfire. The portly chef smiled as he roasted a pig over it, watching the townsfolk dance around the flames in a circle. Spread out, surrounding the bonfire were many tents for the townspeople’s amusement, fortunetellers, mind readers, games of chance, lots of things to enjoy.

Every party must have it’s wallflower and this one’s was Namor. He leaned against the white stone wall, which surrounded the party and the castle and glared down at his bare feet, not wanting to take part in such an idiotic spectacle such as this one. Who in their right mind would throw a celebration in the honor of solving such a simple word problem? Land dwellers, that’s who. The same horrible lot who were responsible for Namor’s expulsion from his beloved kingdom of Atlantis, The same horrible lot who were responsible for the destruction of the kingdom, and the death of his people; he hated them with all of his heart and soul. One day he would rid the planet of the entire filthy bunch, one day.

“Hello there, sunshine.” The female voice startled him. He jumped and looked up. A woman with a long purple hood thrown over her was standing there in front of him.

Namor gritted his teeth angrily and folded his arms. “Stay away from me land dweller or I will force you to pay the price.”

“Oooooooooh. Big tough guy huh?” She said, laughing, while poking him below his bare ribs with her left and right pointer fingers. “Do all big tough guys wear green panties where you come from?”

Namor swatted her fingers away, profoundly annoyed. “How dare you poke fun at my garb! I’ll have you know that these “green panties” are the manliest upon manliest of fashion in my native Atlantis!”

The woman drew herself closer to the cute man with the cute ears and the cute panties. “Atlantis, hmmm? That sounds nice *hiccup*…tell me about it you cute little bunny you…”

Her breath reeked of what the land dwellers called “booze”. Namor himself had indulged in “booze” on less than a handful of occasions. It was a hideous substance, it’s good taste was overshadowed by the burning one felt in his/her’s chest when one consumed it. Then after that all passed there was that feeling of looseness and the loss of one’s inhibitions. You forgot your tribulations, like a woman and could do nothing but stumble about like a land dwelling lout. Real men dealt with their problems, not drowned them in some hideously fun liquid. Fun? Did he think that? No! He was Namor, The Submariner, crowned prince of the lost city of Atlantis. He did not drown his sorrows in a pool of headaches, slurred words, pleasurable times, more attractive females, and guilt free consciences. No. No he didn’t do that at all.

Namor sighed and crossed his arms. “I’ll tell you all about it over a pint.”

As Namor went out with the woman for a pint, Rigley had already had his and more. He had had 6 shots of vodka, 3 or 4 mugs of ale, and a shot of this strange drink the locals called decafssip. He was currently sitting dangerously close to the fire having a conversation with Pinky about gloves. We now join this conversation already in progress.

“Ya see…the thing about gloves is…if they don’t fit” Rigley started to chuckle. “…ya must acquit.” Rigley burst out laughing as he said these words, spilling his ale. “Ah crap…ah done spilt da beer.”

“Thas okay. I cant blame you…my mother was tired.” Pinky said as he patted Rigley on the back one lazy slap at a time.

“Yeah…” Rigley agreed lazily. “Yeah so was mine…we have so much in common.”

XMG liked booze, XMG liked vodka, XMG liked ale, and XMG would have liked decafssip if he had ever tasted it. He enjoyed alcohol and enjoyed being drunk even more, and if he were actually at the party he would be enjoying the alcohol and enjoying the feeling of being drunk. The party sounded interesting, but he wasn’t really in the mood for crowds. And besides, there was something out there that interested him much much more.

He shook in his boots as he approached the cave. It was naturally dark all around, but the torch he was carrying lit his path. He heard an owl hooting out in the distance, and remembered another thing. This was so strange; he was remembering so many things. It was like living his life again all at once. He would hear something like an owl hooting and think “Oh yeah. Owls hoot. Its what they do. I remember once I heard an owl hoot while walking towards that white trash place once with Salome, and thinking it was so strange because it was day time and owls usually didn’t hoot in the day time.” He was being bombarded with those sorts of thoughts with his every movement. Some were uneventful and boring, but some were big. Like Mala’s death at the hands of the pit, like the night where he Jaik and Sabre had killed fought Apocalypse and The Jackal and he had revealed himself to be Poccy’s son. Some memories were good, some were bad, and all of them were new. It was so overwhelming.

He had changed his clothes, finally. Being shirtless and bloody was a nice place to visit but he wouldn’t want to live there. He now had a low collar green shirt, much like the one that the original soldier who had attacked them wore. He also wore black slacks, which he liked a lot more than leather pants.

He stood in front of the cave now catching his wits and trying to make sure no more new overwhelming memories would pop up that might hinder his chance of helping whatever was in there. He was surprised that he actually could stand there in front of the cave in silence. Last time he was in front of the darkened cavern, whatever was inside was calling out to him so loudly that it took over all of the thoughts in his head and reduced him to a trembling suffering fool. Whatever was in there was so sad, so lost that it was blinding. At least it was then, now it’s pain seems to have lessened. He took one final look at the wilderness that surrounded him and stepped into the dark cave, changing his life forever.

He could feel her as soon as he walked inside. She was usually sad and lost but she was actually happy now. Was it because he was here? No. No something was calming her. Someone? Too many thoughts right now.

He tried making as little noise as possible as his boots softly patted against the dirt. Looking around the cave, it seemed fairly normal, very cave like. There were no markings on its walls, no skeletons hanging around anywhere, no cave bears resting. Just a long dark tunnel…leading to a door? Yes. Yes he could see a door at the end of the tunnel, and he could hear something coming from the other side. It sounded like people talking, but he wasn’t too sure. He started to walk faster, but didn’t want to run in fear that his flame might go out and that somebody might hear his approach.

As he jogged on he could almost see her now. She was beautiful. Her eyes, there was something about her eyes that struck him, but he couldn’t figure it out just yet. His mouth was watering in anticipation. His ears were ringing and sweat was trickling down his face so fast he could swear it was raining. The wooden door seemed so out of place against the cave’s stone walls. It was very small, he would have to duck down to enter it, but that really didn’t matter to him now. All that mattered now was meeting her. She was clouding his mind.

She was excited now too. But not because of his arrival, it was because of the music. XMG could hear music from behind the door, rock music, hard and fast, it sounded so familiar but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He put his hand on the door. It didn’t have a knob. It was locked, something in his head told him that. Something in his head also told him that it wasn’t locked for him, he but nobody else could just waltz right in. God what was that song? He pushed the door open slowly with one hand. The song became more and more clear. Was it…was it the Buffy The Vampire Slayer theme?

The door slowly slid open as the last three drum rolls of the theme sounded and the program went to a commercial break. XMG blinked as he entered the small room. Small was an understatement actually, the room was tiny. The stone walls were so close together, a person with claustrophobia would go insane seconds after stepping into it. It was actually pretty bright, considering that the torch, which hung on the wall above the television, had only a small amount of space to light. There was a total of 3 items inside of the room: the torch, the television which was currently showing a commercial for some dog food called Lycos, and the chains that glowed vibrantly with green energy. But XMG’s attention wasn’t drawn to any of those things. He didn’t care about the size of the torch, he didn’t care how those chains got so green, he didn’t even care about Lycos the dog. What caught XMG’s attention was the girl.

“Hi.” She said. That one simple word almost knocked him out. Her voice was so soft it was heavenly. He looked into her almond shaped aqua blue eyes and almost died. She was a knockout in the strictest sense of the word. She looked to be in her late teens or early twenties. Her eyes were incredible, as were her lips, soft, pouty, beautiful. Her hair was a dark brown, which complemented her mocha skin just perfectly. It was love at first sight.

“Uh…uhh…h-hi.” He said, with a slight smile.

“I’m sorry, but you only have about 2 minutes to do it.”

XMG blinked and almost had a heart attack. “Uh…wha?”

She pointed towards the TV with one long finger. “Commercial.” It was something for 7Up.

“Oh.” XMG said, a little disappointed. “What, er, what’re you watching?”

She smiled. His heart melted. “Buffy.”

XMG smiled and jumped a little with excitement. “Hey! You like Buffy too? Well *snort* of course you do or else you wouldn’t be watching it. I mean unless you were just channel surfing or it was your first episode or something. And if it is your first episode I highly recommend you continue watching it. I mean it’s a great show! Such great characters, like Spike and Oz and Willow and Anya and of course loveable Buffy you cant forget Buffy now can you? *slight chuckle* Of course you cant because its her show and her name is right in the title! Duh! I mean not duh! I mean if you forgot her name was in the title then its okay. An honest mistake, it really is. Don’t be ashamed, really…” He smiled nervously. She smiled back at him warmly. He sighed, blew out his torch, dropped the stick, and extended his trembling right hand. “Hi. My name is XMG.” She took it and shook it.

“Hi XMG.”

“Uh…what’s your name?”

“Name?” She wrinkled her nose. “To be honest I never thought about it. Everything has names, Buffy has a name, so do Joey Tribiani, and Dr. Kerry Weaver. Yet, I don’t have a name. Its kinda funny don’t ya think?”

“You don’t have a name?” XMG blinked, then his eyes widened and he started babbling again. “I mean it’s cool if you don’t have a name! A lot of…a lot of cool people don’t have names. For example there’s…well I can’t really name any examples because you know…they don’t actually have names to name.”

She smiled and let out a slight laugh. “Your strange.”

“Most blue people are.” She titled her raised her eyebrow slightly and titled her head to the side in agreement. That was when XMG noticed the collar around her throat. He had been staring at her face for so long he hadn’t noticed the rest of her. The glowing emerald collar around her neck was chained to the wall, her only clothing was a long white, tattered gown, which had long ago lost its whiteness and was now covered in filth. She sat on the floor, looking back and forth at the television and XMG, almost like she didn’t notice her own grimy attire. “How…how long have you been here?”

She bit her lower lip and looked up. “I’m not sure. A long time, I guess…about as long as I can remember actually.”

“You don’t remember anything from before you were here?”

“No” She shook her head, looking troubled. “No I really don’t. But don’t you think I should?”

“Yeah…I really do. Have you ever been out of your chains?”

She shook her head. “All I’ve ever done is watch television, I think.”

“So you’ve been sitting here for as long as you can remember watching TV?” She nodded. “That’s ho—no actually that sounds kinda like heaven. What do you eat and how do you go to the bathroom?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done any of that either.”

XMG rubbed his chin. “Hmmm…well lemmie try and get you out of those chains.” He walked forward, and placed his hand on the glowing chains. Burning pain shot through his body, starting in his hands and then going upwards until finally reaching his brain. He let go, let out a cry, and almost dropped onto his back.

She jumped and stood up, grabbing onto his shoulders and keeping him from stumbling backwards. “XMG! Are you okay?”

He blinked one eye at a time and looked around at the spinning room. “Yeah. Yeah I think I’m fine. Don’t…don’t go anywhere…I’ll get you out of here yet.” Without another word he ran from the room and exited the cave.

Mohammed stalked towards the Midnight Son’s transportation device in the transportation room, his red hood bouncing about on his determined little head. Illithios, A place he hadn’t thought about in years. A place he never expected to go back to, and a place he never ever wanted to go back to. For the first time in centuries Mohammed was truly scared. He wasn’t scared of Illithios. How could you be scared of such a feeble minded place? No, that wasn’t what frightened him at all. What frightened him was he, The Evil One, Holocaust, XMG, this XMG. He had killed so many versions of The Devil’s Spawn before it almost seemed foolish to be frightened of one now, but the prophecies were rapidly coming true.

The Righteous One will be the one who fights to cure the plague of him from all existence

The Evil One will be the one whom The Righteous One cannot stop

Death himself cannot stop the evil one

The Evil One will find the lost daughter of The Righteous One

The daughter and The Evil One will kill all

If he is in Illithios, then he will meet Mohammed’s lost daughter, he probably has done so already. And if that is the case well then Mohammed will just have to do something that he should have done a long long time ago: Kill his only daughter and the evil one, XMG. This is an important mission. If he fails….well then may god have mercy on all of reality, because they will sure as hell need it.

XMG arrived back at the party and finally realized that he had left his torch back in the cave. Damn. Oh well, it didn’t matter now anyway. All that mattered was finding out who the girl was, and freeing her from her literal chains of oppression. The girl, XMG sighed. XMG had known a lot of girls before. He had had sex with 3 girls: Alyssa Milano, some hick girl with a big hairy dad, and Natasha that Russian girl from Weapon X who had fulfilled his life long fantasy of banging a chick over a desk. Yeah he had known a lot of girls, but somehow this one was different. He had only talked to her for about a minute and a half, but somehow she just felt different. It was hard to explain, but she just seemed to have some aura around her. Something that told him that she was the one for him and he had to do anything within his power to free her and be with her.

XMG had been so caught up in his girly lovey dub thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the fact that he was now on fire, with a crowd of people clapping around him.

“Aaaaahhhhh Get it off get it off get it off!!!” He screamed, hopping up and down, trying to put out the fire on his pants leg.

“Bwhahahaha, stop drop and roll X! Stop drop and roll!” Rigley laughed drunkenly.

XMG threw himself onto the hard dirt and rolled around, putting out the flames. He sighed and sat up to look at his leg. He was damn lucky, the pant leg had caught on fire but his leg had not. “What the hell happened?” he asked to anybody who would listen.

Pinky crouched down in front of him, smiling. “You have just walked right through the sacred bonfire! Are you a god of some sort? First you solve the king’s puzzle and now you walk on fire! You must be a god!”

“No Pinky Lee, I’m no god. I’m just a man, a man in love with a girl.” He nodded, looking far off like an action hero. He shook his head quickly. “I’m sorry that was incredibly corny. Listen, who is “The Bad One”? Why is “The Bad One” in prison? What did Sh—err “The Bad One” do?” It was hard to believe that anybody would consider her to be bad.

Pinky thought for a second. “I do not know. Something bad I would imagine.” He smiled.

“So…you don’t know?” Pinky shook his head, still smiling that goofy smile. “Does anybody around here know?”

“I would imagine that The High Lord Mohammed knows!” Pinky said with a newfound bass in his voice. Suddenly he got to his feet.

XMG squinted his eyes. “Excuse ei moi?”

“MO-HA-MMED MO-HA-MMED MO-HA-MMED MO-HA-MMED” A deafening chant rose up from the crowd. A chill rose from XMG’s spine. Mohammed? Here?

He got to his feet and suddenly felt strangely out of place. Everyone, as far as he could see was now bowing on his or her knees, he could even see the king far off in the distance bowing. No, no he takes that back, he could see one figure in the distance not bowing. 3 guesses who that figure was.

Mohammed raised one robed arm and the crowd fell silent. They anticipated his every word. “People of Illithios.” He boomed. “I have returned to thee.” A cheer arose from the crowd, Mohammed pounded a fist into the air, silencing them. “And as my first act under my return, I order the deaths of the 3 strangers who you worship as gods!”

XMG cringed. The people of Illithios all turned to him in perfect unison, all of their glares were icy, full of hate. This wasn’t good. No this was about as good as the Tomb Raider movie.

Next Issue: “Illithios”

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