What have I ever wanted? To be a hero. Duh!
No. That's not it... That's not the truth. I'll tell you what my real wish is.
It's to be loved.
Kind of lame sounding, I know.
But by who?
Like the others, I want a world where everyone can be happy. Where I can walk down the street holding my boyfriend or husband's hand, without anybody saying anything that would make me want to pop them in the damn mouth!
I wonder, if the world was a nicer place, would I have turned out so scrappy? Would I be more peaceful? Ugh, would that mean I would never become a fighter?
I want a world where John Henry and Sandra and their kid can move to whatever damn neighborhood they want and not only be safe, but welcomed with open arms.
I want a world where Lily doesn't have to explain her body and mind to people just to be accepted for the person she is.
I want a world where kids who grew up like 'me' can see me kick butt on TV and know there's someone out there fighting for them.
But aside from all that stuff...I want love the most.
I've never known it. I keep looking for it. I keep f***ing it up. Nobody knows how empty I am inside. How I'm always afraid I am to lose, because it might people won't think I'm strong, or worth their attention.
I push people away for stupid reasons too. Cian. Buck. Vahni. I look at these men like gods, and put them on a damn pedestal...before I realize how they're just handsome schmucks like me. Flawed.
I wish I could be okay with flawed.
There are no gods here. Not even King Anubis. Sure, I could wish for a world where's he king of all--I could be his consort. I know he'd give me a whole harem of hunks, and nights full of endless pleasure. But it wouldn't be worth it. It wouldn't be 'real'.
I guess this means I'm gonna' have to keep searching. And I sure as hell am gonna' keep on fighting.
I may not be World Champion...yet...
Spike forced out the words, even as his oxygen began to fade. "But...I can be champion of people's hearts!"
King Anubis gripped harder, clenching his teeth. "You're a black hole, Spike. Energy. Love. You just keep taking. Where does it end?"
Spike closed one eye, and opened the other. "Did you just call me...a bottom?" I think I'm gonna pass out. So much for being choked out by muscle daddies and liking it...
"TCH!" Maybe King Anubis was imagining things, but the little punk was heavier than he'd thought. Still, King Anubis held him higher. He wanted everyone to see the great Sailorboy's downfall.
Take away the hero. Take away the hope. Maybe there wouldn't be a champion after all. King Anubis was starting to settle in with the idea. At this point, it was impossible for the giant magi to see any futures. Too much was in flux. Made things hell of a lot more interesting.
Maybe there wouldn't be a world to come after all. What would that mean?
King of the Ashes? On an empty planet? A void? The very thing I set out to prevent...NO. NO! NOOOO! I'LL DESTROY EVERY SPELLBREAKER TO PREVENT IT. EVEN YOU, SPIKE.
"You claim to want love, but you're a slave to lust," King Anubis spat out. Behind his mask, his bloodshot eyes burned brighter than Spike had ever seen. He really did look like the god of death. "You wouldn't know what love was if it walked up to you and slapped that cute ass of yours. Also...have you been eating more pizza than usual, kid? You're kinda heavy..."
Spike, trying to keep his eyes opened, looked down, and grinned. "What's...wrong, wuss? Not as strong as you thought?"
The truth was, Spike's glyph aura was only increasing in intensity. King Anubis trusted his own might well enough that he knew even Spike going into his silly little 'Overdrive' mode wouldn't be enough to defy his strength.
Still, the little pinup boy was giving him one hell of a run around.
"I'm proud of you, Spike," King Anubis said. "You almost had me there! You showed more grit than your little friends, actually. But now...now your dreans end with me. YOUR NEW GOD."
Spike looked up. Actually looked up. King Anubis hadn't even realized that he'd let his feet tough the ground.
"What was that?" Spike smurked. "Hey, King. You're looking kind of tired, my guy. Almost like...someone sapped all the energy outta' ya?"
!!!!
"Tee hee." Spike smiled. "Did I do that?" But his cute façade quickly shattered, giving way to a white-eyed fiend. "Let. Go. Of. My. Arm."
Asking, of course, was but a formality. Spike used his other hand and grabbed down on King Anubis' arm, which might as well have been carved out of solid obsidian.
The giant winced. "That's...some grip you got there, kiddo."
"DON'T CALL ME KIDDO." Spike roared. His blue aura suddenly became white hot, as King Anubis fell to his knees in pain.
"Dios mio," El Amante gasped.
Next to her cousin. Rosa covered her mouth. She held Gio's hand tighter.
The entire audience was on its feet now. Cian and John Henry had to cover their eyes and step away. With all attention focused on the ring, nobody noticed the glyph embedded inside King Anubis conjured throne starting to wobble...and crack.
Rainbow particles of light flowed freely from King Anubis into Spike. He wasn't just absorbing his energy any longer...but his glyph too.
"Took me a damn while," Spike said, breathing heavily, feeling the energy course through his nervous system. "But I finally mastered my magick. I'm not just a damn good fighter, King. I'm a pretty badass magi too!" Sweat dripped from his hair (had it gotten longer recently?). "You say I'm a black hole? Nah, that ain't it. All that love, all that energy that comes my way...I take it and and I give it back, double strength!"
"I'll put an end to this..." King Anubis said. "Heel tactics be damned." He snapped his fingers, willing time to stop.
It didn't.
Spike's hair, which had suddenly, truly grown in length over the last minute or so, flowed down over his shoulder like a gilded, regal lion's mane. He appeared taller. His muscles, certainly, had enlarged.
"LOOKING FOR THIS?" Spike said, snapping his fingers.
King Anubis froze.
The audience gasped. Floating gently over Spike's palm, like a butterfly, was a small facsimile of a glyph, a pyramid and an inverted pyramid, like a crude apprixmation of an hour glass. Keen eyes recognize it as the glyph Temporis. The Glyph of Time.
King Anubis' glyph.
Mr. Iron stepped back. The student had indeed surpassed the teacher. "He...absorbed his glyph." He could barely believe the words. He feared the implications even more.
"I AM NO LONGER BABY..." Spike said, roaring, and taking a warrior's stance. Now, it was him who appeared divine--a shining, gilded, warrior god. "I WANT POWER."
King Anubis growled. "ENOUGH ANIME BULLS***. I'LL DESTROY YOU, YOU MISERABLE TWINK."
"I'M A TWUNK!" Spike charged forward and punched King Anubis right in the face. The man's mask shattered. Half of it, anyway.
King Anubis, unfrozen, fell to the ground. Stunned, but far from unconscious, the giant man touched his face and pulled back blood. Spike had made him bleed.
The other half of his jackal mask hung over King Anubis face, making his mad eyes look that more deranged. "You...you went Super Saiyan." King Anubis spat blood on to the canvas, and rose off the ground to face his hyper-enhanced foe, now on the same footing. "NOBODY MAKES ME BLEED."
"'CEPT ME!" Spike shouted, thundering forward like a runaway train. "AND I'M SICK OF YOUR STRUPID REFERENCES."
"Your cute new power is temporary," King Anubis shot back. He reached out and grabbed Spike's hands, matching him, muscle for muscle, in a test of strength. "I don't care if you go full power or not. You CANNOT win this! I've seen all possible timelines now."
"F*** THE TIMELINES!"
Spike braced against King Anubis. King Anubis braced against Spike. To the crowd, it looked like either men's muscles might actually tear open and burst any second. Thankfully, this was not the case.
King Anubis pressed his head against Spike, eye to eye. "You're good, Spike. You almost beat me. But...you still have a long journey ahead of you."
He smiled. His voice softened. "In my new world...I hope to see you continue it."
Spike's jaw clenched. He felt the power slip away. Drain from him. At the last second, Spike let King Anubis push forward, and then slammed his knee right into his hard gut.
"GAH!" King Anubis grunted.
"That's not going to stop me," Spike said through his teeth. "I may make mistakes. I may accidentally break a few hearts on the way. Heavens knows, I've broken mine more than once. But one day...I'm gonna get it right with someone. Dude, I'm only twenty-three! Do you know how long I had to hide myself from the world to get this far? There's nothing wrong with messing up. That's me. Fall down. Get back up. My tag partner is out there somewhere! I'm gonna find him. And....I'M NOT GONNA LET YOU TAKE OVER THE WORLD BEFORE I GET ME A BOYFRIEND, YOU ROIDED UP, CIRCUIT QUEEN BITCH!"
King Anubis was like solid bronze. But even bronze could crack. King Anubis fell back, and Spike didn't let the moment pass. He attacked King Anubis with a flurry of punches, pouring all of his power into the final volley. The light around Sailorboy Spike began fading, his hair receding back into its shortly cropped length. Sighing, bruised, bloodied, and exhausted, Spike fell before King Anubis.
Only the wind intruded on the silent city of Kitezh.
Purpls bruises, splotches of blood, and red welts danced across the surface of King Anubis' skin. Spike's attack had left his golden mask, hanging from his face, soaked crimson red, giving the already fearsome man an even more demonic appearance. Streaked with blood, across face and chest, King Anubis reached out and grabbed Spike's shoulders. Instead of bearing down in a nerve trap, or a clutch, however, King Anubis merely held his hands there. He sighed.
Whatever silent words Spike and King Anubis exchanged, they were spoken through their eyes only.
Spike nodded. He smiled.
As did King Anubis.
"For this effort," King Anubis began softly, pulling Spike up onto his shoulders, still easily manging to invert the boy on his back, "Your life will remain entirely intact. You have shown me that you can live it to the fullest. But, your quest for my championship belt ends here. You will not be champion, Spike Waterford."
"Not today..."
King Anubis jumped into the air and performed his Lifeshaver muscle buster. In an instant, Spike--already drained of stamina--knocked out, falling to the floor, limp. In sleep, he looked like a fallen hero. His face was not the pained grimace of Vahni Rage, but a slumbering angel. King Anubis gently pulled Spike off the ground, threw him across the shoulder, and placed him outside the ring.
The spellbreakers watching, all fell silent. Cian, on the verge of tears, looked to Mr. Iron. "Is this it? Is...this how the world ends?"
Mr. Iron turned his head, and sighed. Then, he thought of Sandra. His child. His eyes met King Anubis, the wild, bloody god standing in the center of the ring. Waiting.
Wordlessly, Mr. Iron pulled himself through the ropes...and cracked his neck, ready for a fight.
Nervous whispers erupted from the bleachers. Cian, falling to Spike's side, attended to his friend, but kept his eyes on the action.
Mr. Iron walked forward, towards his opponent. He stopped, placing his hand on his hips, staring King Anubis down.
King Anubis gladly met his challenge. "Oh? You're approaching me?" He flexed sweat and blood of his body, like a beast shaking off a fresh kill. "Instead of running away, you're coming right to me?"
Mr. Iron grunted. Then, he grinned. He motioned for King Anubis. Bring it on.
King Anubis looked down at his massive hand. The Glyph of Temporis flashed briefly, a phantom, before dissipating into the magi's skin. Spike's new ability seemed to be tempory, which more of a relief to Mr. Iron than anyone else.
"Well, Johnny cakes...looks like I have my glyph back now. Which is too bad for you." King Anubis, dripping blood, but otherwise no worse for wear, took his time meeting Mr. Iron in the center of the ring. "Your time's run out."
He snapped his fingers.
Per usual, King Anubis had breached the gap between him and his opponent in the blink of an eye. He shot out his fist.
It collided with solid gold, breaking it instantly.
King Anubis' howl cut through the audience, whose blood nearly froze on the spot. Nobody knew what had happened. It took several seconds before it dawned on them...
King Anubis clutched his shattered hand, looking up as Mr. Iron's golden body resumed its normal composition of man and matter.
The handsome, bald-headed bull in the silver singlet was, as always, amiable and cordial. "Didn't expect that, did you big man?"
"You...you..." King Anubis clutched his hand. He couldn't use his powers now. Maybe Mr. Iron knew that. He always knew more than he let on, after all.
"What is a god?" Mr. Iron started, walking forward, "to a legend?"
King Anubis glared. "You need to work on your trash talk," he sniped. Then, he sighed.
"Yeah. Probably. Iron can rust when it doesn't get much wear."
"Not Iron," King Anubis said. "But gold, it seems." Shaking, trying not to show the raw anguish and pain from his broken hand show, King Anubis looked over at Spike. "I said you couldn't win this, Spike, and I mean it. It's not your time."
Then, the god--the first spellbreaker and World Champion--looked up at Mr. Iorn. "It's his."
With all eyes on what happened next, nobody noticed the Genesis Glyph starting to wobble, continuing to fracture. Nobody, that is, except for Spike--who, as he came to consciousness--was in perfect sight-line of the Forbidden Glyph.
Back in the ring, Mr. Iron charged at King Anubis, lifting him up into the air, and higher still.
To this day, nobody can quite explain what happened, how Mr. Iron pulled off this technique, or what magicks were at work. The most Mr. Iron would ever allude to is a vague suggestion of magnetic force, but even this--as they say--is but legend.
Whatever happened in that moment, Mr. Iron reached the apex, touching the sky. With King Anubis, a bloody mess, tucked between his legs, he took that moment to look out across the clouds. Mr. Iron would tell you he'd managed to breach the red thunderhead, summoned as a by-product of the Genesis Glyph. There, he looked out over a clear blue sky, at the world below.
It was a beautiful thing.
Congrats, Iron. It looks like you won this thing after all. So, what'll it be? What kind of world would you like your good friend Salim to whip up for you? Claim your wish.
My wish? Hell...I know what my wish would be of course. I don't want my kid to grow up in a world that hates them as much as it hated their old man. I want a world that, when my wife kisses them goodbye for school, she doesn't hold her breath and pray as she watches them go, wondering if they'll come back home at all...
I wish we could wave a wand and get rid of this poison on Earth called 'hatred'. But tell me, King Anubis, what does that look like to you?
Even the Glyph of Genesis can't just 'erase' things like racism and prejudice. How do you quantify that, John? What it can do, however, is get rid of anybody you want. That politician on TV, foaming at the mouth over a bill that will strip someone's rights away just so he can feel better about himself at night? The preacher in the pulpit spouting fire and brimstone over whichever group he doesn't like? That cop who decides to give himself the power of the law, life, and death just to feel in control? All of them, erased, with the snap of a finger. A world without hate looks like a world without those who are compelled to hatred.
I can grant you that power. In fact, call me biased...but that's the world I wanted anyway. I can support you, John Henry Iron, with that world. I trust the future, my future, to you.
I know. And I should take it...
So why the hesitancy, large friend?
Wait, aren't I in the middle of pile driving you? How is this conversation even happening?
Narrative construct? Metaphor? Gives this whole thing a bit of gravitas, no?
Er...I guess?
Take it. Take my power. Realize your wish. I need only your consent. What will it be?
I should take it. I shouldn't...hesitate. What have been fighting for, marching for all my life? But I gotta' ask you...where does it end? Will these people you speak of, the forces I've fought against since the day I was born, even be allowed to change their hearts?
What makes you think they will?
I know....
I may be a champion, Salim. But I'm no hero. If I was really brave, if I really could walk the walk, I'd take you up on your offer without hesitation. It's tempting. Too tempting. I feel like if I don't, I'm going to throw all my brothers and sisters, and people like Spike, Lily, and anybody who deserves a world without cruelty, under the bus...
But I just...if people's hearts can still be changed. If people can be shown the light. At least given a chance...
Yeah, but who often does that actually happen?
But it does. I've seen it.
Tell that to the tyrant who can end millions of lives with a single word. You really think enough movements and marches and songs can change a heart like that?
I'm not saying violence isn't sometimes necessary. It is, regrettably. But with a wish like the one you are offering...it would turn any saint into a tyrant. And I ain't no saint, no matter what my friends and family think of me.
No man, even well intentioned, should be in control of so many lives. Nobody is perfect like that. What you'd be asking me to do is repeat the cycle.
Only...who would defy us, John? With a glyph of ultimate control?
Five minutes ago, you thought nobody could defy 'you'. And yet, here we are.
...
Right. No. I won't do it. Call me a coward. A traitor to my ideals. I won't. Instead, I'm choosing the longer, harder path. I don't need a glyph to change the world.
Yeah, but it would certainly make it a hell of a lot easier.
That may be. But...I want to give my kid a world where they can seek their own path. What kind of man will I become if I become an arbiter of morality, who lives and dies by my judgment? Nobody should have a power like that. Even if they're well intended. So, I choose the coward's path.
I, John Henry Iron, refuse your offer.
I do this 'my' way.
Mr. Iron brought the sky down...and King Anubis with it.
Some say that on impact, the ring itself split in two.
More zealous types, real "Iron-Heads" of course, well tell you that Mr. Iron's Piledriver split even the earth in two, leaving behind a fissure that can still be seen in the ruins of Kitezh to this day.
Still, other say this driver technique, the 'God-Breaker', has never been replicated, leaving Mr. Iron the only spellbreaker alive to pull off the feat.
All lament the fact that second world championship finals were never record or televised, making all stories about their mysterious conclusion nothing more than rumor and speculation.
Maybe it's all for the best. After all, it's moments like these that give spellbreaking, and pro wrestling, a sense of mystique.
Nevertheless, when Mr. Iron emerged from the crater, to roaring applause--to spellbeaking cohorts throwing each other out of the way just so they could be the one to embrace him first (Titan Gio, the biggest of the spectators, got to him ahead of everyone else). Nobody could scarcely form a coherent sentence. All was shock and awe and revelry.
In the steaming wreckage left over from Mr. Iron's definitive finisher, a crooked hand--the one still intact--struggled to make a motion with its fingers. A flash of multi-hued light poured forth towards the crowd of celebrants, lifting Mr. Iron onto their shoulders (a great feat, in its own respects).
A massive, golden, championship belt--studded with diamonds--materialized over Mr. Iron's shoulders, ex nihilo. The veteran spellbreaker, who still couldn't quite believe what had happened, couldn't find the words to make sense of it. Regardless, he couldn't get the chance. As he held the belt up in the air, for all to see, the spellbreakers roared anew.
Even Deadboy Daemian, sullen as he was, couldn't contain his excitement. Brax, right alongside him, howled.
"THAT'S MY COACH, BRO!" Icewolf cried out, face full of emotional tears.
Groaning, and near death, King Anubis--decades of borrowed years erased by Mr. Iron's devastating finisher, pulled himself out of the wreckage. He looked over at the victorious. He looked over at the unconscious Rage, Colt, and Tiger, who he'd bested. Sighing, but unable to summon up any energy for anger, or loss, or joy, he simply waved his hands towards the injured.
And then, they were all uninjured. And awoken. Rage. Tiger...
And Colt 'The Bolt', coming to on a cot next to the bleachers, just happened to crane his head in time to see the festivities--and make sense of it. He was glad nobody noticed his timely recovery.
"He damn did it," Colt said, finding himself losing his composure. "My...hero."
Hence, the sudden downpour.
Cian, briefly distracted by the crowning of the world champ, looked down at Spike...and the ground beneath and around him. "Huh...?"
Spike was awaken now (barely). But that wasn't what Cian noticed. The earth, broken cobblestone, dirt, and dead grass, was...shimmery. Shiny. Glowing with rainbow light. Cian looked up to the sky and saw a rainfall in all colors. It was strange. Beautiful.
It still bothered him.
Cian cupped his hands over his mouth. "Hey, guys." He looked over his shoulder, sensing a strong energy radiating from King Anubis' throne. The glyph atop was glowing, vibrating, pulsating with energy. Fissures of black light had begun forming across its luminous surface.
Not good.
"Oy, boyos!" Cian called back, getting to his feet. He pointed in the direction of the ominous light. "And lasses, and none of the above. I think we might have bigger things demanding our attention right now."
The short-lived celebration cut off. Mr. Iron, lowered safely to the ground, slunk his championship belt over his shoulder. He and the others moved slowly, but cautiously, in the direction of the light. Rage and Tiger, re-joining the world of the awoken, joined them in their growing concern.
Meanwhile, King Anubis had managed to lift himself--painfully--into a sitting position. Annoyed, defeated, but fair, the Time Magi used his newly acquired gifts to heal himself. The shattered bones re-joined themselves, cracking back into place (as painful as it sounds). The blood on his body receded, skin healing itself in rapid time. Even King Anubis mask rethreaded itself...though curiously, its style and shape was changed.
Lastly, King Anubis looked down at his completely shattered hand. He grunted...finding the Genesis Glyph...resistant to his demands. His hand mended itself, slowly. And then, it kept going. His fingers grew longer, turning first into the claw of some strange beast, then a bird talon, and then into a scaled version of a human hand.
King Anubis grunted. He seethed. "DAMN IT. Why is it ALWAYS the hand!?"
There was no rumbling in the ground nor sky, just a sudden, loud CRACK as the earth around the throne opened up, the construct sinking sideways into the fissure.
The spellbrekaers gasped. Gio and Rosa, acting on instinct, combined forces and conjured up a blanket of roots to try and needle-and-thread the broken ground back into stability. The rainbow light from the throne reacted, transforming these roots into solid crystal beams. The air around it became snow, and then a shower of gold, before even the city around them--towers and all--began rapidly transforming. The scenery went from lost antiquity, to modern spires, to strange, futuristic buildings--night and day rapidly shifting between the other. An aurora appeared overhead, drowning out the blood red sky. Stars, in the thousands, began falling.
Spike, with shallow breaths, lifted himself off the ground and looked into the starry cascade. "It's...the end of the world."
Elsewhere, reacting to the sudden shift in reality, the world powers did as expected: began to queue up the launch codes for their missiles.
As King Anubis had foreseen, this timeline had ran its course.
Were the priests and priestesses of the church present, were the Great Hierophant of the Mother himself available to lay eyes on the misuse of the Genesis Glyph, he would have called it the ultimate penance for the ultimate transgression.
Either way, King Anubis had truly passed his judgment--and this world was at its end.
"I...can't control it," the giant said, approaching the bewildered and exhausted spellbreakers. He held up his hand, staving off their reaction. He was no longer a threat. "There was...one timeline where this might happen." He clutched his hand, which had now become a long, slimy tentacle. "Some luck of the coin toss, eh?"
Spike, recovered--but limping--looked down at King Anubis' tranfigured arms. "Serves you right," he said.
King Anubis looked at him with tired eyes. "You're gonna' be a little s*** to the bitter end, aren't you, habibi?"
"You bet." Spike looked over at the throne. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his heart began to beat faster. "Mr. Iron. Coach. Congrats. You deserved to be world champion."
Mr. Iron swallowed, already concerned where this might be heading. "Hey, thanks, kid. Your time will come."
Spike's lip quivered. "I think...it already has."
Colt clutched his chest, and looked around at the ones he loved His family. Spike's family. "This isn't the end. I've pulled jack rabbits out of hats before. We gotta' do something."
Spike would, anyway. He looked down at his hand. He'd been granted a new gift. He could syphon energy.
"Oh well, nothing to lose." He stepped forward. toward the radiant object pulling in light and sound.
El Amante, of all people, rushed to restrain him. "Hey, chico, what are you doing?"
"Please, let go of me," Spike said, choking back a sob. His whole body trembled with adrenaline, brought on by fear. Every cell in his body resisted him.
El Amante did as told. But it hurt his heart to do so. He felt Spike's emotions.
He knew what he was about to do.
Spike approached the throne, finding himself awash in rainbow light. It was warm. Pleasant. But it was wrong. Spike held out his hand, and felt the pulse of energy. Just like before, just like with King Anubis, he could now reach out and grab hold of the threads making up the energy and particles defined only by the physics of magick. With King Anubis, the power had been finite, but strong. Spike had seized it and brought it into his being, with only a bit of exertion.
These threads of energy, however, were endless. They made Spike tired. They made him want to lay down and sleep, for a very long time.
"I wish I could have said so much more to Buck," Spike mumbled.
He had seen this movie before. This is where the hero would normally turn to his friends, take sight of their tear-streaked faces, and tell them 'thanks'. But Spike knew if he did that, if he lingered on a thought or a feeling for much longer, he might not be able to do what he had to do next.
Guess I'm a pretty crap hero, Spike thought, as he opened the floodgates to his glyph. The power that came forward, syphoned from the glyph, was overwhelming and endless. It was like being electrocuted by sunshine, or maybe even what it might be like to throw oneself into lava, and feel it all, before it burned oneself alive.
Nevertheless, the power came, in abundance. Endless. Unrelenting. Overwhelming.
Within seconds, Spike blacked out. All he saw, was pure, white light.
And then...
To Be Continued
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