"I'd like for you to shut up and listen, just this once. Do you understand me?" The whispering voice of the Rootlord echoed throughout Ephram's mind.
Something wasn't right. Something inside of him had changed once more. After Aberlain had punched straight into his diaphragm, Ephram had fallen to the ground gasping for breath. It was as if every molecule in his body had been ripped apart and sewn back together again, fighting to cling to one another. He had never felt this pure strength before and was shocked at the level Aberlain had reached. They were in completely different leagues, and all hope was beginning to drain from Ephram's mind as he listened to the mad ramblings of the self-proclaimed King.
"The world as we know it is over. I will destroy the infrastructure humanity has built upon the Earth and rebuild this realm for the sake of both our races. Demons and humans alike will roam this world, constantly seeking to improve themselves. I will no longer tolerate the weakness of neither the flesh nor the mind from anyone, for weakness is not something I indulge in." Aberlain said, kneeling down next to Ephram's unmoving body as he spoke.
As if the very next words uttered by the Rootlord were made of toxins, the seething venomous hate pouring from his mouth was enough to send Ephram into a frenzy of the mind. His body was still unable to move as it recovered from the shock of Aberlain's punch, but his mind was put into overdrive as he hung on every word.
"I will kill everyone you love, destroy everything you have, and take all that is precious to you before I allow you to rip the future from my grasp. There is nothing you can do to stop progress." The Rootlord said, standing back up slowly as he straightened his suit jacket and began walking away towards the edge of the roof.
The yellow eyes peering from his human host's face scanned the surrounding carnage of the city. The billowing clouds of gray smoke rose from every crumbling home and business below. The screams had just about died out, but every once in a while the horrific screech of a dying human sped through the air. The joyous yet crazed laughter coming from the demons he'd unleashed, however, were plentiful in numbers.
Aberlain slowly turned as he heard the shuffling of feet behind him, Ephram had finally regained a bit of strength. As the two demons turned to face each other once more, the Rootlord began to sigh with genuine sadness. His path was a hard one, not many walked it. The only enemy he thought capable of possibly defeating him had proven himself to be just as weak as the others.
"Let's get it over with already." He said exasperatedly, wishing this fight would just end already.
Ephram's red eyes grew wide with both shock and anger. It was unbelievable to him how unfair this world seemed to treat him. After all this power, all this strength, and all this determination he held within he was still just as helpless as before. It was like reality kept placing impossible obstacles in his way to keep him down for good, as if it knew he was a threat.
Tick.
All of a sudden, the air around Ephram grew warmer. As he listened to the soft ticking of his pocket watch, he began blocking out everything else around him. He had defied reality before, beating odds he knew were impossible. To rise above the cruelty of this world he would have to become something else entirely. Like a raging inferno toiling about within his soul, the thought of losing to Aberlain and consequently failing his friends tormented his mind. Ephram thought to himself that maybe not everything beautiful should last forever. Perhaps it was better for the light to one day go out, leaving nothing but darkness.
Tick.
The watch disagreed. As if time itself were holding tightly to his soul, the watch began to give off its own waves of animosity. The sympathy it felt for Ephram as it saw the beauty in his eyes fade away, along with anything else wonderful in his soul, was nearly infinite. The world was sucking him dry of all hope and ambition and yet he still fought back. The only hope the world had left for a truly bright future, rested upon the back of this one human man turned demon. The willpower he carried alone was enough to send shockwaves of inspiration through the very soul of what he held most precious to him. The golden pocket watch felt the very energy being released from Ephram's body, giving it a new hope for a better future.
"What the..." Aberlain suddenly said, his voice growing quieter as he watched the events unfold.
As if the golden watch had grown a soul of its own, it began to glow a devilish red hue as it synchronized with Ephram's eyes. The physical manifestation of rage pouring from Ephram and his watch was unlike anything Aberlain had seen before. The watch itself pulsed violently like the beating of a tormented heart, waves of crimson red flying up into the air. The morning rays of the sun once enveloping the Rootlord had now been blotted out by the immense light spewing from the eyes and heart of Ephram.
The demonic laughter and horrifying screams had all vanished as every creature upon the ground looked up to the Stellarh Inc. building with awe. The blazing red light upon the rooftop could be seen for miles around in every direction, like a crimson beacon of hope blotting out the sun. Vines of crimson energy shot into the sky like a valiant spear, hurtling upwards into the unknown.
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Aberlain took several steps back as he felt the hurricane of wind fly past him. The murderous red eyes of Ephram locked onto the yellow eyes of the Rootlord as he stood hunched over, emanating shockwaves of crimson fury. It was as if he were truly carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders with every step he took towards Aberlain. The beating of his red heart pulsed throughout the air, causing the Rootlord to slightly lose his balance with every step Ephram took.
Seeing this as an opportunity, Ephram suddenly lunged forward with astounding speed to land a direct hit upon Aberlain's chest. The force of the blow was enough to kill any ordinary demon, but the Rootlord was anything but ordinary. He had been shoved back towards the very edge of the rooftop but maintained his balance as a barrage of fists came barreling at him without skipping a beat. Seeing no other option but to stand his ground and tank Ephram's attacks, Aberlain tried his best to block every shot thrown his way if they were undodgeable. The relentless flurry of anger unleashed upon the Rootlord was a surprising one to him, but he still held strong against the attacks.
"Well, shit! This is quite the surprise E! I knew there was something special about you! How... unfortunate." Aberlain said as he broke free from the onslaught, landing a hit of his own upon Ephram's temple.
"I'm sure you're aware of my demonic powers! It's too bad all that anger can't hold me back from devouring your mind!" The Rootlord yelled, springing forward and grabbing Ephram's head with both hands as he tried possessing him.
As Ephram stood still for a moment, he began feeling the energy drain from his body while the Rootlord attempted to jump from the body of the CEO and into his own. It was an odd feeling he couldn't quite understand, as if his mind were suddenly going soupy as the Rootlord tried to take control. It was only for a moment, however, that Aberlain saw something deep within the mind of Ephram that caused him to let go. A memory still yet to be discovered lay dormant inside of his brain, locked in a cage with no key. The moment Aberlain had tried to enter the mind of Ephram, that cage had been forced open.
"Get away from me!!" The Rootlord screeched, unhanding Ephram as he ran to mere inches away from the edge of the roof. The look in his golden eyes seemed to be a look of true fear, an unholy grimace of terror plastered across the face of the CEO he inhabited.
Ephram stood unmoving as confusion settled in, unsure of what Aberlain had seen to cause such a shiver to crawl up his spine.
"Aberlain... you don't get to run away!" Ephram snarled, taking several steps forward to approach the Rootlord.
"No... you don't know what you've done! You've killed us all! You will cause the future I was trying to warn you about! Don't come crawling back to me when it's too late!!" Aberlain screamed, his defeated tone indicated he was truly shaken up regarding what he had seen.
Ignoring the mad ramblings of the Rootlord, Ephram continued towards his target. As he reached out and grabbed Aberlain by his throat, however, he noticed the Rootlord's contorted face looked similar to that of an enraged yet wounded animal. The look sprawled across Ryan Bailey's face was nothing more than genuine fear in its purest form.
As soon as Ephram was about to finish what he'd started, that same look of fear upon the Rootlord's face twisted itself back into its original condescending sneer in mere seconds.
"Moron... they're already here!" He choked out happily, trying to speak as Ephram wrapped both hands around his throat tightly to lean the Rootlord over the edge.
Turning his head for one second to look behind him, Ephram failed to notice the small chuckle from Aberlain as he found his own opportunity for victory. Grabbing hold of Ephram's arm, the Rootlord leaped from the rooftop with his prisoner in tow. The immense red glow from Ephram's pocket watch and face began to fade away, leaving just his crimson eyes to stare into the face of the Rootlord.
It wasn't the thought of hitting the ground that the two of them feared, but who was stronger to survive the fall with minor injuries. Both Aberlain and Ephram were demons in completely different leagues, but the human host the Rootlord occupied was significantly weaker due to his human nature. Neither one of them would die from the impact alone, but they both knew it would hurt like hell.
"I'd say see you in Hell! However... that's not where we're going!" Aberlain suddenly shouted from nearby as they fell, the crazed yet frightened look in his eye sent shivers up Ephram's spine.
Looking at the Rootlord with confusion, Ephram noticed his hat had flown off and begun gently floating down far above the two of them. As they hurtled past the halfway-point to the ground, several large pairs of shimmering white wings descended from the sky in perfect unison.
A small group of angels had appeared above the Stellarh Inc. building, surrounding it with large golden spears and swords. They only seemed to have about twenty in their ranks, but the confidence shining from them all made Ephram feel as if they had the power to stop this nightmare. One angel in particular, however, proved Ephram's thoughts to be incorrect.
Like a diving vulture, an angel in bulky black armor scooped up Aberlain within his arms. The angel's red feathery plumes resting atop his dark helm whipped in the wind as his large white wings flapped rapidly, cutting through the sky. The Rootlord struggled and fought against the grip of the angel as they ascended into the sky, but the angel's strength outweighed that of his own.
Ephram found it ironically cruel how such a divine creature would save the life of an evil tyrant, but perhaps this was simply life. The reality of the world no longer mattered to him as if his very thoughts were powerful enough to go against the flow of time. Reality was wrong and he was right. As Ephram slowly closed his eyes and embraced the fall, he took one more look up to the sky; its beauty held secrets he could never hope to understand. Everything he'd done to protect his friends had truly bore nothing, the fruits of his labor had been rotten from the very start.
Tick.
As he descended rapidly to the ground, he listened to the soft ticking of his pocket watch cry out to him. Mere seconds away from the inevitable crash below, however, another sound began to mix in with the slow ticks. At first it was very faint, but it soon became clear to him that the flapping of wings were drawing nearer. The feathery whooshing of air grew louder and louder as Ephram opened his eyes once more.
A tall and brawny angel had swooped down from amidst their ranks, closing the gap between Ephram and himself with breakneck speed. The white helm of this angelic knight shone brilliantly as long strands of blonde hair peaked through the bottom. The long and fluffy white cloak he draped over his steely gray armor billowed in the wind as he reached his arm out towards Ephram. The armor itself reflected the morning sun like an imperfect mirror, shining the sun directly into Ephram's crimson eyes. Perhaps the world still needed him after all. Maybe there was still a future to be held within his grasp, and the only thing left to do now was reach out and grab it. Reaching out quickly for the angel with his left hand, he clasped the hand of fate.
Tick.