Like Grains of Sand [CD]
May 15, 2016 12:28:26 GMT -6
Spencer Adams, The Polar Phantasm, and 7 more like this
Post by Kyle on May 15, 2016 12:28:26 GMT -6
“Guardians are necessary for children and abnormal adults, because they cannot make responsible choices for themselves.”
~ Tom G. Palmer
~ Tom G. Palmer
Man’s life was like the first grain of sand that fell through the narrow neck of an hourglass. Under normal circumstances, it would spend the rest of its life being buried beneath the weight of existence, forgotten and ignored until time stopped. There were any number of ways to justify this sort of life. Integrity, Morality, Fate. All were identical in the sense that they made no attempt to question the world they were trapped in, made no attempt to change it. All it took, though, was a single flip of perspective.
If man would only turn their world upside down they would suddenly find themselves standing atop it all.
The room he stood in was nondescript. White walls. Carpeted floor. He had been raised in a room like this once, when he was a different man in a different world. He had learned much since then, traveled outside far outside the confines of a room like this. Yet it had been chosen as the meeting place to remind him of where he had come from and where he was going back.
All around him black crystals rose out of the carpet, dancing and swirling around him. He did not fear the sight, but waited patiently as the crystals came together and began to take shape. A moment later—or perhaps a year, he was never certain—the silhouette of a God appeared, black as night. A stark contrast to the white-walled room, The Dark Timekeeper was. Or at least, a manifestation of him. The timekeeper never came in his true form because there was never any need. Not for the man who stood here.
He had already seen the power this being wielded and would do whatever was necessary to obtain some of it.
“It seems a few of your old friends were not satisfied with the world I had created for them. I need them dealt with before they try to pester me anymore.”
Phantom specters appeared on three sides of the man. To his left was the daughter of a vanquished foe. To his right a remnant of his origin. And directly across for him . . . well that was a man he’d never forget, even if tried to disguise himself behind white hair. He’d never forget the fear he had seen behind those eyes. The fear he had put there once, in another life, another world.
His greatest, perennial foe. Kid Phantasm. He would never know him by any other name.
The specters disappeared, leaving only the silhouette standing behind him.
“The Guardians,” the black figure said, its voice devoid of emotion. “A laughable attempt, really, but one that cannot be tolerated. . .”
The silhouette continued to speak, but the man was no longer listening. His entire body was tense from the phantom who had just stood before him. His muscles coiled, his eyes narrowed. And his hands, both of them, coiled into fists. Yes, this was a world where what was taken away could be restored. It was not the same, weak hand he had had before. It was strong, a gift from the God behind him. But for the sake of nostalgia, it was indeed the same hue of red as before. Some things just did not change.
He had had enough and finally spoke. “Where?”
The silhouette did not smile, but it was pleased; it had known the affect the specters would’ve had on him. The job would have been performed regardless, but now . . . now it was personal. “They’ve gone to a place known simply as UCI. Stop them before they can gather their strength and strike out against me.”
Despite himself, he actually smiled. Silly humans and their fixation on their letters. Arrange them in a certain order and it suddenly meant more than before. He remembered another place, another world where this had happened, but that world was gone. But one, three letter combination remained, and it was the only one that truly mattered. The only one that could ever make a real difference in reality.
N.V.L
And he was coming.
[End]
