PRO

He shifted uneasily in the warehouse. The trap he had set on this world for the Courier would soon activate. He had no idea why this world held such interest to the faction that the Courier served, but he was one of many who sought to actively oppose him and his goals.

He sat quietly on the pile of crates. The organization of everything in the building was far beyond what the level of medieval technology should have allowed for. Just another example of interference from other powers.

A soft click echoed through the darkness as a side door cracked open slightly, allowing for the pale moonlight outside to seep in slightly. The person opening it, having decided there was no threat, quickly opened the door and stepped through, closing it behind them with the soft sound of a latch being dropped.

The shadowy cowled figure moved forward cautiously to a single large crate that had been set aside near the center of the large storage warehouse. Looking around furtively, the person examined every nook and cranny, and finding no threat proceeded to the crate and began working off the lid.

He nearly snorted to himself, stopping the act as it would have given himself away. People trying to be covert were all too happy to check eye-level locations as if everything of danger would be lurking in convenient places to find.

But they almost never looked up.

He remained on the pile of crates that he was using as a lookout post, watching to see what the Courier would do. It never hurt to take stock of one's enemies prior to removing them from the board. You never knew what nasty surprises they may have.

Jumping straight up in a display of might and magic, the cowled man attempted to flee and flew through the air towards the single skylight in the roof as the pre-deployed runic trap was sprung. Dozens of formations lit up the inside of the warehouse forming a box shape focused on the center of the open area with the crate.

“Shit,” he grunted while flinging himself at the ceiling. His attempts only resulted in him bouncing off the new seemingly unbreakable glass skylight.

He slammed back into the ground on his feet, leaving cracks in the cobble floor. He drew a sword that devoured what little light was within the room, plunging it into a kaleidoscoping world of black and grey hues.

He clapped slowly as the man's attention finally landed on him. It wasn’t like he was hiding at this point, having been standing in the center of the room. Between the white and black sepia that he had plunged the interior of the warehouse into, his enemy could see another sitting on the edge of the crate he needed.

The armor this being wore was cracked with molten lines of red and gold, shaming the black and white that he was trying to drown the area in. Those colors were there, defiant as if saying no matter what he did they would not be extinguished.

Swallowing hard, the Courier only hoped that the being in front of him wasn’t who he thought it was.

“I found you,” he said, standing up. His armor flowed around him, following its movements almost as if it were alive. “I almost lost you. But you made a mistake with that Mana Stone. If only you weren’t so… good-natured. You may have remained alive a bit longer,” he explained. The Mana Stone hadn’t really given him away, but the statement would throw off anyone listening to the conversation.

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The Courier struck without responding, his sword of shadow and smoke slamming into his fiery armor of darkness. His enemy’s blade shattered, exploding into shards of razor-sharp ethereal material that obliterated the area around him. Without even causing him a minor inconvenience.

The deeply hooded flash flashed momentarily, and the Courier shuddered as he caught a glimpse of the demon-like maw and eyes that the man chose to display. Unnerving your enemy psychologically only served to weaker their ability to resist.

“You will not have any of the twelve. You cannot have any of the twelve. Releasing that thing will destroy everything and more,” the Courier said, stepping backward.

He moved in front of him faster than even a being such as the Courier could follow, picking him up by the throat and slamming him into the floor with enough force to shatter the cobblestone as if it were made of thin plywood.

“I will have what I need and wish. Nothing less. Nothing More,” he growled. These assholes were always so self-righteous. Arrogant. It disgusted him, to think they were considered the good side in this conflict. Drawing a finger down the armor of the man, his defenses shattered leaving behind a tight-fitting suit of a material that was not meant for this world over a well-toned and muscular body. A body built to kill. They always made them so physically perfect. Such… arrogance.

The Courier struggled in the grasp of his iron-tight hand, but another casual gesture sealed him to the floor, seamlessly merging flesh and stone as the man screamed in agony. “No, no, no. You don’t get to fight back. The time for that is long past,” he whispered. “Take joy in knowing that after you die I have only nine left to gather. Your Order’s mission is a futile one.”

The man's eyes widened in surprise and terror as a hand plunged into his chest. A ritual circle spread across the floor of the warehouse… then continued through the walls and over the ground of nearly a quarter of the city.

“Nah doh,” the Courier gurgled, fighting to stay conscious through the pain and shock of having his ribcage broken open.

He smiled, a terrible smile not meant for this world or any other. A Smile filled with hate, disgust, and joy that his opponent wasn’t dying as quickly as he had thought he would. He was tinged with mild regret that he was unleashing such a plague upon this world, but sacrifices must be made. And this Earth was… far from useful.

He stepped back, admiring his handi-work and the spreading spell of undead summoning. Nodding, he activated the circle with a flick of his wrist. The otherworld green glow spread in a green flash across the ground within the circle, poisoning it to all life. As the energy levels continued to grow he slashed a hand down the side of a large crate. Rather than smashing it to pieces, however, it ripped open a portal that spilled light red light into the warehouse. Eyeballing his work one last time, he stepped through the gateway. His work was done here. There was nothing else for him to address.

As he stepped through the portal, he immediately knew something had gone catastrophically wrong. The energies that maintained the magical gateway began to rip and tear at him, shunting him through multiple other local gateways as if trying to find something to connect to.

He didn’t have a chance to even consult the demons and souls that made up his very armor. As knowledgeable as they were, they may have been able to help him. But the portal had other ideas as it attacked them wildly, tearing pieces and chunks off of him at random and disintegrating them. As if it knew the threat of his living demonic armament and was attempting to deprive him of it.

Without the ability to even activate his armor, as the attack was so sudden and ferocious, he focuses on the outside influence affecting the portal, he could tell it was trying to push him into a particular location. But he was having none of that. He would not be trapped. He fought back, injecting his own System converted Mana in an attempt to ward off the intrusion.

But it wasn’t enough.

With a shattering sound that echoed through his very soul, the portal did something he didn’t even know was possible. Something he knew the interfering party didn’t know was possible either, as the hesitation confirmed that something unexpected had happened.

With a shearing feeling as if he had been split in two and then shattered into a million pieces, the portal disconnected. With him still within it.

Existence went black as the reality around him simply… faded away into an eternal nothingness.