“My, what a beautiful day.”
A man in white with glasses strolls across the White House lawn as shadows flit about him, intermingling with the smoke coming from the historic building now in disarray to match the chaos of the world. For six months, the Darklings (denizens of the Dark Matter realm) have gone to war on the multiverse, lead by the last remnant of the Doom Lord's army in his lover and general the Surgeon, a psionic without parallel and genius beyond measure. Known to wield a seeming endless supply of scalpels, the rogue takes his name from his ability to peel away the sanity of his enemies as a surgeon takes apart the human body. Opposing him are what remains of the Time Investigation Team (or T.I.T.), dwindling from attrition as the Surgeon has played with them as pawn pieces on a chess board. One man claimed to kill this nightmare adorned in white, but the black clad swordsman named Reaper mysteriously disappeared after the demise of the Iscariot, a living time anomaly that threatened existence as it is known and yet known. Watching family, dear friends, and the only woman he ever truly loved die before his eyes, he swore to avenge them on the Doom Lord and slay the villain's lover after the Surgeon completely and utterly defeated the man in black in single combat. Having lost faith in T.I.T., the Reaper made a deal with the devil in his future self, despot of the past, present, and future draped in crimson robes and bandaged all over his body referred now as the Time Trapper. Using the DNA and tools of the greatest warriors in history, the Legend, a group of super beings, were created as a personal strike force and in time teachers for Reaper to fulfill his promise. However, the hero overwrought by the loss of his love Trish Tuesday and wracked with humiliation over her disappointment in him when she returned to life, his vows amounted to nothing as the Doom Lord was slain by Orpheus in the body of Lazer Lion and whose sword Mucro of Vices defeated the Iscariot. Believing himself to be the hero but reduced to an impotent observer, he wallowed in self pity. That is, until the Major Arcana kidnapped him to transform him into the representation of Death. What has become of him since is unknown. However, where he is now is here.
A black boot scrapes against the ground, a wisp of dirt arising as two slashes sounding barely audible shatters the queer silence of anarchy. The Surgeon turns, a small glitter erupting from his glasses as they catch the sun.
“Always a dark cloud on my sunny day. Where've you been, boy toy?”
A tattered cloak whistles in the wind as it picks up around the ebony figure. A hand is outstretched from the being as a black twirl in the air before it forms into a scythe in its palm. The so-called Crescent Blade of the Moon, a key crafted by the Quintessence (Zeus, Shazam, Ganthet, Izaya, and as yet revealed fifth) to be used to pierce reality and bend time in order to save the multiverse, or so it was intended. Where there were six Darklings now there are small twirls that fade into nothing.
“Impressive, but I have oh so many darlings to take their place.”
A smirk flashes across the face of the glasses-laden face of the enemy when the ground swells and contorts to give birth to dozens of Darklings. The Reaper, or Death as he may very well now be, remains unmoved as seven figures appear around him and the shadow opponents shriek into nothingness. The Surgeon frowns as the ground shakes and air shimmers as reality erupts with hundreds of Darklings stream like unleashed rivers towards the group. The Legend crash into this all-encompassing stream and cut a swath to the Surgeon with Death in its center, merely floating toward his target.
The Surgeon looks down briefly before again facing forward with a maniacal grin that touches from ear to ear. Crossing his arms before him, scalpels emerge from between his fingers.
“Oh well, I was growing bored anyway. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
Arms slice the air in white flashes as they spring forward and darts of light fling towards Death but pass through him to strike down Darklings behind him. The black mass of tattered cloth continues to glide forward, lowering the scythe and dragging it against the ground. The Surgeon continues to laugh and smile as scalpels stack upon each other in his right hand and forms into a makeshift whip. The edged ribbon twirls forward in a white cyclone as the scythe greets it. Death's polearm is torn from him and flies upward into the sun but as the man in white looks forward, its master is gone. Feeling a weight on the whip, Surgeon looks up into the sun as the scythe still attached to the whip flies toward him in the hands of his opponent. The villain barely escapes its crash which sends the ground in upheaval. Forming an oval shield on his left arm, the Surgeon screams as he lashes at the immense cloud of dust before him. A massive sword's tip springs from it and narrowly misses the rogue's head as it scrapes on his shield. Grunting, the whip is shook stiff into a massive spear as its wielder flies backward creating a sonic boom and stabbing his weapon forward faster than the human eye can follow. It is met with clangor as arms wielding katana spring from the sides of Death and parry the blows. Raising the massive sword, Bankotsu's zanbato Banryu, in his right hand, his left is raised as the nodachi Monohoshi Zao of Sasaki Kojiro (rival to Miyamoto Musashi) bolts out from the palm appearing as a cross. The katana, Masamune and Muramasa, are held forward and back in defense as the arms move to the gut and back. Death spins as the spear sparks against the shielding blades while the outstretched edged twister bites at the man in white. Surgeon swings his arms before him as his weapons reform into wings that push away his attacker and he rockets upward, turning to rain a flurry of scalpels from metal wings on the dark clad warrior. Their target bursts like an imploding black hole that explodes above the silver streaking menace. He twirls into a cascading whirlwind of scalpels while two scimitar, one with a crackling mist and other popping ablaze, join Death's four swords that swat away the small knives.
“Double dollar day at the sword shop?”
The Surgeon cackles as the wings turn into massive arm guards that stretch down his arms forming massive whips at their ends. His cries and movements like a chanting dervish, Death is held at bay at a distance as all he can manage is to parry the mad assault of telekinetically held scalpels charged with energy threatening to create atrophy in his cells. What appears as a strike that slices Death in twain instead emerges a pair of dark warriors to fight the man in white.
“I can play that game too!”
A Surgeon with bladed arms blasts from the original's chest to stab at the new opponent.
All the while, the entire area is awash with movement. A seeming endless army of Darklings pop from nothing and are met with Death's personal guard. Nightingale skips from delivering blows on targets like a leaf fluttering on the wind while the green and red giant Hachiman gleefully smashes into his enemies with his ax and blasting opponents that try to flee his slaughter. Biotronix and Moriarty are back to back unleashing blasts of energy that seem to disintegrate every shadow they strike. Utan Oran the Wildman and Trample Jack make a game groundside of how many enemies they strike down (Oran leads by 11 without any help from his fairy Maribelle). Angelic wings outstretched, Etrana the mage remains grounded as she unleashes firestorms, lightning bolts, and rays of light that cut down Darklings by the dozens.
Dozens of black-shrouded Deaths and white-adorned Surgeons battle in air and on ground. A black swordsman crashes a zanbato into the ground as the maniacal glasses-worn man in white leaps and rains scalpels on him. Lightsabre meets glowing long sword in the air as a duel of wills and wits matches the flaring blades.
“You've become stronger; we're almost evenly matched. Almost!”
A jumonji yari tip pokes at Death's throat as two katana form an X to keep its fatal bite at bay.
“No comebacks? When did you become Batman and I become the Joker?! Ha ha ha ha!”
Death hums into a screech as a spear springs from his mouth and cuts the brow of its target. Surgeon kicks off the handguards of the swords to spin with his right hand pointed with two fingers outstretched and thumb upright as blasts of energy whiz towards his cloaked nemesis from them.
“Mind bullets! Get it? Pew, pew!”
Moving with lightning speed to avoid the attack, Death turns his arm into a dragon head and neck and snaps at Surgeon catching him in its jaws. A white flash and the Surgeon streaks down with an ax cutting off the dragon as it turns into another Death.
“Getting real old!”
The Surgeon flies up like a rocket as he's joined by his clones. Forming a circle, they spin at great speeds with energy blasts and scalpels to form a cone of flashing destruction. As the dust up clears, a single Death kneels on the ground directly below the hovering white-clad combatants. They lower surrounding him, though his swords are impaled in the earth around their master save for the lightsabre. One Surgeon steps forward.
“Finally giving in, ole boy?”
Formerly belonging to Darth Vader, the lightsabre hums to life as a cylinder of glaring red erects from its handle. The swords shake as the laser-bladed weapon is raised to his mouth like a harmonica. As the handle goes into his mouth, the swords fly up while arms emerge from the elbows and sides of Death to grasp them. Faces appears on both sides of the head when the cowl is pulled back and tongues lash out to grab the scimitars pulling them into his rows of teeth. He poses as Shiva before the Samhara Tandava while the Surgeon looks ahead perplexed. Some force comes first, acting as a vacuum as the Surgeons are pulled inward. Before they can react, the ground cracks and chunks of earth come towards them like a tide. Turning, they see a world of crescent lines coming toward them in place of Death. Pops follow small implosions of white as a single bloodied Surgeon crouches before the nine-sword wielding opponent. The swords of El Cid, Tizon and Colada, lower and cross as a scissor before the man in white.
“You think you've beaten me?”
The low growl comes from the seeming immobile villain who flashes back and rises, his wounds regenerating upon themselves; blood dribbling down his face receding into the wound and stitching shut, cuts about the body seal as the clothes themselves join them. Cracking his neck, he grimaces but it maddeningly bows upward and teeth show into a menacing beast on the prowl. Pushing his glasses on his face with his right middle finger such that the lenses glow white before taking his hand to brush his hair back, his body glows white as a circle of energy forms around him on the ground and erupt into a cylinder of energy. He screams as he bursts with power, waves of energy pushing back Death while engulfing him in white.
“Can you feel it?! The power?! Cosmic power, culled from the very universe and funneled into your destruction! I don't care if I destroy this whole world, this whole galaxy! If you're dead, then I'll be free of you and what's left will be mine!”
The Legend and Darklings end their battles and flee for their very existence. The earth, grass, the very air are engulfed in the Surgeon's mad quest to rid him of his enemy. But, a slit of darkness pierces the light. A large black sword slices an aisle down the waves seeking to destroy its wielder. Posing his swords to keeps out the energy that surrounds him, the flamberge blade of ebony is held in arm emergent from Death's chest. The nine previously known swords for the man formerly known as Reaper to perform Zoro Roronoa's Asura variation came as gifts of his achievements by the Legend upon completing training. However, Empress of the Major Arcana would bestow a gift herself to her latest recruit. Previously wielded by Dakkon Blackblade under the machinations of planeswalker Geyadrone Dihada before losing it to the corrupted nature spirit of Khone in Sol'Kanar and claiming it again in the creature's defeat when many years later it was inherited by the zombie warrior Korlash, the Black Blade is an ancient and powerful artifact able to feed on the very energies of life and death. Dihada, an ally to the Empress, would again regain the ancient blade before the Empress would shove its business end into the tentacled horror to take the sword for herself. Marking Death as a champion, she bestowed its awesome might to complete the base of making the soldier an ultimate fighter. Unflinching, Surgeon grits his teeth and pours on the cosmic energies, risking pulling himself apart at the molecular level. His efforts are for naught as the Black Blade pierces his chest. The world quickly drops to a quiet stillness while the man in white falls backward, his suit taking on an all-encompassing crimson while while blood coughs from his mouth.
“Well done,” gurgles the the dying tyrant as his glasses teeter on the edge of his nose. “Didn't think you could ever pull this off, but you do come from good stock.”
Blood rolls down the sword but it turns dark and merges with the blade.
“Tell me... has it ever occurred to you I got a familiar face?”
Death slowly treads forward.
“Heh. I remember it so clearly. Xion was massacring us. Dave was already distraught over all the school kids the maniac diced up and displayed like horrific sculptures to unnerve us. It worked, T.I.T. just couldn't deal with the grotesque scene. Dave always felt so weak; not a very heroic thing to consume people, you see. So, he was always the weak one, the comic relief. Xion changed that. He saw it as their last wish, consuming everyone and killing the Avatar/Captain Planet wannabe. Losing Trish already left the cheeky blighter in unrest, add a dose of eating your best buds and a sociopath and next thing you know, you got a Doom Lord. We were what was left, and we descended into madness together. It was so much fun!”
Coughing up a great deal of blood at that, Death grabs the Black Blade but quickly releases it, creeping back.
“Felt it, eh? How, I bet that's your question. That's not too tough. You know Dave as Agent Darrk and Doom Lord, Brodie's two Xions and a Chip Micro. You see, it's true the Iscariot torture gave us powers. However, yours manifested early, thanks to that fight you had with your future self in the hospital room. Ole Time Trapper, he was all doom and gloom too like you are now. You manipulate energy, and Trapper oozed chronal power. Made sense there was a reaction. I suppose it never occurred to you all this Doom Lord business popped up after your confrontation with him, eh?”
Death clenches his fist.
“Divergent stream, of time and space. Ran parallel yet separate of your own. The Calendar Girls planted the seeds, but you added the water and Iscariot gave the sunshine. You started this, this ride that gave you power and tragedy. That gave you friends and took them away. That gave you love and not only robbed you of it, but spat it in your face. She can't even look at you!”
The scythe slowly slides down the arm of Death.
“Heh. I may die, but I win!”
The ebon cloaked silent warrior plunges his crescent blade upward into the Surgeon's guts as he laughs.
“I'm the stain you can't ever wipe out! Fool, I'm you!”
The Surgeon looks down as his wounds glow white. Death is pulled by his scythe towards the Surgeon, fighting it as he may. The glasses worn man bursts white as the black swordsman bursts black, two great column that swirl upward before intermingling red. In its wake, one man remains cloaked in red. The Surgeon, the Reaper/Death, the Crescent Blade of the Moon... all gone, replaced by the Time Trapper. The Legend and Darklings creep forward, unsure of what to make of what has transpired. His face hidden by darkness, he turns to them. Waving his hands, a portal opens to the Dark Matter Universe. A ball of white appears in his right hand.
“A gift from Indigo Prime.”
Tossing the orb into the portal, there's a burst and some backlash of energy hits the Time Trapper. Turning away for a moment, he again looks upon the assemblage as badly singed arms wrap themselves in bandages and steam escapes from underneath the cowl as some part of a sizzled skull can be seen.
“Don't worry; it's only mostly gone.”
The Time Trapper rises in the air as screaming souls come from the portal and into his body. The Darklings on Earth shriek and scurry away as the Legend stand in awe. The crimson cloaked individual laughs as he consumes a chunk of a universe's power, musing as he really has become a reaper. He turns to his loyal troops and waves a hand as they scream in horror. Their flesh is torn as metal surrounds them. Inevitably, they rise as the MagnaGuard, the ultimate merger of magic, science, and alchemy and devoid of all emotion save to serve the Time Trapper. The portal is closed as the robed one and his automatons walk forward and space transitions to the headquarters of the being at the end of time. Raising his hands, the once decayed ruins rise into a metropolis unlike any that existed in history, thus called Acropolis.
“Such a magnificent city requires a perfect caretaker.”
Borrowing from Pinocchio, Rock Man, the Vision, R. Daneel Olivaw, Rick Deckard, and several other subjects, an artificial intellect attached to a plugged-in android is crafted and connected to every corner of this new city.
“Father-ONE, make me an army. No, a people. Scour the realities, make me a great city of metahumans, alien beings, magic creatures, and androids all to serve me. I will rise from the ashes of T.I.T. and offer a multiverse modeled in my perfection. Where that bumbling organization of twits faltered shall I emerge and create harmony. But, first...”
Thoughts of the Surgeon race through his mind.
“Yes... there can be only one...”