Sitting on the edge of the docks jutting out into a large lake one warm Saturday evening in June, two friends, dismissed from service to their country, finally were able to settle down and pretend to be civilians again. Dean, a wide bodied man covered with scars and surgical lines, sat on the left and ran his fingers through his caramel colored curly hair as the wind caressed his round features. Allen to his right, a much leaner fellow with black hair and sharp features accentuating his inhuman eyes, poured the both of them new glasses of lemonade. A decade of memories passed between them as they looked out across the shimmering waters before them, neither believing that they were really there after all they had been through. They agreed that as long as they had one another they would endure anything, even another war.
The conflict in question was a complicated ordeal in every sense of the word. What had begun as the Second American Civil War turned into a multi-national crisis, which escalated into a nuclear standoff with mutual destruction all but guaranteed, then evolved into a desperate scramble for ground invasions when every bomb dropped was reduced to atoms by new defense networks. Nations split, governments crumbled, and the world set itself ablaze with the fuel it had been piling up since the Third World War. Allen and Dean were only children when the war escalated, and given the desperation of their country it was only a matter of time until that frantic search for soldiers began to scoop deeper and deeper into the conscription age until two nine year old boys were given weapons and told to fight.
Eleven years of bloodshed was all it took for the figures of authority to declare an armistice, and from there it was decided that nobody could sustain any more violence. Thus the war was over, and the two boys turned men by the crucible of war were sent back home, only to find their beloved lakeside town reduced to craters and ashes. A parting gift of the global conflict, a lasting scar on their souls, and a new goal to work towards all in one. By day the two assisted in rebuilding their childhood home and by night they would return to the lake and sleep within one of the ownerless vessels moored off the dock. It wasn’t the life these two thought they would ever see, nor was it a life they deserved, but the world gave it to them all the same. However,
So it was that fate decided the time for their lives was due to end. All it took was a single man harboring a deep hatred towards them, armed with a bomb, sneaking into their floating home while they were away, and the two would meet their end by this evil man’s dark desire. The two had just finished reminiscing about their travels across the country saving people when they decided that the night air would be uncomfortable to continue their discussion, and it was the moment they entered the vessel that the villain would detonate the explosive hidden inside. Without warning the two survivors of war were erased from this world and sent off to the afterlife in a torrent of flame and shrapnel. No bodies to be recovered, no families to mourn them, they were gone and forgotten by the Earth.
But this was not the end of their story. In fact, it was just the start.
…
Dean could not comprehend what had just happened to him. One moment he was following Allen down into the underdeck of their temporary shelter, and the next he was thrown into darkness following an instant of light and heat. Had he succumbed to some kind of trip-mine or perhaps a remote explosive, he wondered to himself. Regardless of what it was, he couldn’t see or hear anything, and the only sensation he could feel now was a sort of coldness and weightlessness, almost as if he were adrift within a cloud. His fingers grasped at the ground beneath him, and the sensation of cold stone meeting his touch told him that perhaps he wasn’t dead and that maybe he should open his eyes to see where he was.
The sight to greet him upon his eyes opening was a moving sea of stars stretching out above him like a never ending kaleidoscope of twinkling lights. His breath caught in his throat as he marveled at the gorgeous sight of the dancing specks, and to his own surprise he found his arm reaching out for the stars despite him knowing he’d never reach them. He looked at his own arm in shock, as the numerous scars and markings along his limb were now completely gone. His other hand reached out and felt his forearm only to feel smooth skin beneath its grasp, and that arm too was smooth and unblemished.
Using his elbows as supports Dean pushed himself upright and gawked at his healed arms. Wondering aloud, he asked who could have possibly erased all those years of scars and augmentation from his body. He reached up and tapped at a spot on his temple that should have held an activation button for his inner system diagnostic report, but neither the button was present nor was the slight notch below his right eye where the sensor was mounted. Someone had completely removed all of his essential cybernetics without lobotomizing him, and miraculously had also gotten rid of every ache and pain that came with being torn to shreds in active combat. He decided that he needed to explore both his own body further and the place he was in.
The large man rose to his feet and began giving the rest of his body a two-fold visual and tactile inspection. His servo-assisted legs, reinforced spinal cord, integrated combat blades, even his improved respiration ducts that should be poking through his ribs had been erased from his body without leaving so much as a divot to show where they once were. Forcing his mind to acknowledge that he was completely organic now and there was no changing that at the current moment, Dean instead set his eyes to work inspecting this strange space he found himself in now. Despite the fact that he could feel that there was a floor beneath him the only visible thing underfoot were swirling clouds that came up to his knees, and no matter which direction he looked it was only more clouds stretching off into the horizon until they met with the ever shifting blanket of celestial bodies overhead.
Analyzing the situation brought no conclusion other than the possibility that he had been trapped in one of those simulation chambers he had heard about, which meant that he could potentially call out for some form of operator or control program to shut it down from outside. Dean turned his head skyward and spoke into the realm above, hoping that if there was a camera mounted to the ceiling that it would recognize that he knew where he was. “Hello? Is there anybody there?”
For a moment there was only silence in reply until he heard footsteps behind him. Turning to face this newcomer with a defensive pose at the ready, Dean soon found himself face to face with his longtime friend Allen as he stepped through a wisp of cloudlike air. Allen squinted at him from a few feet away, uncertain of who he was looking at. “Dean, is that you?”
“Of course it is, who else would I be?” He growled his response as he left his protective stance.
Allen looked him over, but the look of confusion didn't leave him. “You sure about that? The Dean I know is a damn Frankenstein, but there isn't so much as a scratch on you.”
Dean looked at his best friend closely, and sure enough he too was completely unblemished as well. “Yeah? Well the Allen I know lost his eyes and had to have them replaced with bionic, but you look like you still have yours.” He thought for a second before adding “Also it's the monster that's the ugly one, Frankenstein-”
“Was the doctor, I know” Allen sighed as he tossed his head to the side, having heard that same sentence a dozen times. His eyes scanned the area in search of some distinguishable difference in the ethereal landscape around them, but he couldn't find anything other than the endless clouds and sky. “So where are we Dean, and why the fuck do we not have our augments?”
Dean scratched his chin through his beard, thinking of a decent reply. “Well, last thing I remember before being here was climbing into the boat, then there was a flash of light and a second where everything hurt, after that I was just here. My first thought was maybe we were hit by a stun round and dragged off into some kinda virtual room, but that doesn't explain why we're stripped down both inside and out. Medical tech is great and all, but I've never heard of removing neural implants without killing the owner.”
Allen nodded in agreement. “It sounds suspicious, maybe even impossible.” Looking over his arms and legs, Allen came to the same conclusion as his companion. “I also doubt that we're in a hologram of any kind. Usually you can tell it's fake just by looking closely, but that’s a real sky up there and the mist is cold to touch. This shit’s real, whatever it is.”
The two once again checked their surroundings, but yet again the area they were in was devoid of sound or objects, only the rolling white mist and the swirling cosmos above. Dean shuddered as a realization began to creep into his thoughts. “Hey Allen, you think…”
Allen frowned as he finished the thought his friend had. “That we're in some kind of afterlife? Maybe. I'd been thinking about it since I got here, but I'm pretty certain I don't have a pulse. How about you?”
Hearing this, Dean placed his fingers on the side of his neck to feel at his artery, but only stillness and cold skin were felt. “Nothing. Guess that means we really are dead. Shouldn't we be more freaked out about this?”
“Probably, but maybe because we're dead it doesn’t bother us like it should. Just a guess, but I'm going to stick with it until something proves otherwise.”
The two stood there in silence once more, each turning things over in their minds. As they pondered, a soft glow began to envelop them as something moved closer to them from above. Allen was the first to notice the growing shadows on his friend's face, and upon looking up he fell backwards in fright. Dean followed his gaze and laid eyes upon the same presence, and much the same retreated backwards faster than his legs could react only to fall on his back.
Hovering above them was a being unlike anything they had ever heard of or imagined before. The body of the creature was not a living thing, but rather a warped shape of an object they both recognized as an hourglass that had five segments rather than two, with sand flowing in and out of the segments endlessly. A pair of enormous scarab wings framed the odd thing completely, and a single blazing eyeball centered where the five parts of the hourglasses met glared down at them. A series of golden ribbons of light trailed around it in great billowing waves, and on these strands were scripts of unknown languages.
Dean and Allen continued scrambling to get away from whatever this strange entity, but their bodies refused to aid them and were frozen in terror. The eye of the creatures looked at the two of them with an empty gaze until some form of understanding set in place in its mind. All at once the hourglass began to shift and change: the wings silently slid closed, the eye closed and extinguished its flames, and the sand all at once stopped flowing as the golden ribbons began to envelop the shape entirely. With a loud snap the thing vanished from view, and in its place was a silhouette of a person standing in the mist before the two men.
A voice called out to them from the figure, but no lips moved to create the sound. “I apologize for startling you both. It has been many eons since I have had to present myself before mortal souls and I had forgotten that the Sacred Truths and Mysteries were too much for a young spirit to endure. Please, fear me no more and approach me.”
Still reeling from the abject horror they had just been subjected to, Dean and Allen took their time staggering back onto their feet before cautiously moving closer together rather than towards the figure. As soothing as the voice was there was still a great deal of suspicion and caution preventing them from getting any closer to that which they could not comprehend. The being saw their apprehension and realized that this change of appearance was not enough to calm them.
The solid white figure spoke once more in a softer tone. “Please don't be afraid of me, for I am your ally and protector. My name is Wenorria, and I am an angel of the heavens.” The angel bowed gracefully before gesturing for them to step closer. “Tell me your names so I might learn why it is you are here.”
The two men looked to one another with suspicion etched on their faces, but neither felt as though there was any attempt at deceit. Allen was the first to speak, though he kept his distance rather than approach. “An angel…right, I suppose that makes sense. I never was much of a believer in the faith, but I was sure all the violence and bloodshed meant I'd be in the fiery pits for all the wrongs I'd done. Well if you're here to tell us why it is we're standing on clouds rather than fire and brimstone in exchange for our names, then by all means have it. Mine is Allen J Finnegan, the J is for James, ma'am…er, sir?”
The angel dismissed his worries of insulting them with a wave of a hand. “No honorifics are necessary, but if you insist then you may refer to me as Lady Wenorria. Now, you sir, tell me your name as well.”
Dean slowly took a step closer to the angel before bowing his head in a mock bow like she had done. “My name is Dean Kinnaird, and I'm sorry but I don't remember ever having a middle name. I don't know if that's important or not.”
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Wenorria shook her head as the words she spoke manifested before her. “Worry not, I only needed you to speak your own name so I may hear it. Allow me to confer with the Mysteries.”
As she said this the golden ribbons that still lingered in the air drifted down into her hands. Through the glow of the ethereal threads now held in her hands, Dean and Allen could see that there were features to the face of the angel that were hidden by a white veil. The singular flaming eye of her hourglass form was now firmly set in on the right of her face while the other eye stayed closed, and on her pristine round face was a smile as her gaze traced the words before her. Both men marveled at the marble white woman until she closed her eye and released the ribbon, and with its glow now receding she was once again hidden in a formless white aura.
She brought her hands together as if in prayer as she took a step towards them. “The Mysteries have sought fit to tell me all of who you two are, as well as to explain why it is that you are here. Now that I am informed, I am able to elaborate on why it is that you are not in paradise. Ask and you shall learn.”
Allen glanced at Dean before asking the most pressing question in his mind. “Where are we, exactly? If this isn't Heaven and it isn't Hell, then what is this?”
“You are in a place between all things, the converging point of all of what you call universes and realities. The unlimited expanse of what you call a multiverse is tied at one location and instant, which is both here and now. This place has no name, but all beings know in their core of the existence of this oasis in time. It is one of the great truths of existence.”
Allen tried to wrap his head around the idea that where they were was somewhere between entire other planes of existence, but Dean seemed less bothered by this idea and wished to ask a different question himself. “That’s cool and all, but that doesn’t explain why we’re here. Was there some kind of mix up?”
The angel shook her head with painfully delayed motions. “There was no mistake, only a change in opportunities.”
Allen had recovered and took the reins of the conversation from Dean. “Could you elaborate on that? It sounds like we were sent here for a reason when you phrase it like that.”
“A reason there is, but a certain level of understanding is required to comprehend the nature of your situation.” Wenorria outstretched her hand to the sky, and in response the stars above began to realign until it looked as though there were nothing but planets filling the sky rather than stars. She pointed to the planets and resumed passively. “These worlds you see here are but a sampling of the planets that sustain life in the infinite cosmos, and one each of them are entire civilizations just as complex as the ones of your own home of Earth. As stated before, this place is where all of these worlds are connected to and can be reached from, as it is the center of everything that was, is, and will be.”
She pointed to two specific planets, which drew them closer and closer until they were plucked from the sky and orbiting the angel’s palm. One of the blue orbs moved within the reach of Dean and Allen, the two immediately able to recognize their place of origin at a glance. Wenorria resumed her explanation as the globe returned to her. “This one is where you came from, a world that has just recently endured a period of strife so turbulent that it was seen by us angels as a tragedy among tragedies, akin to seeing a world’s light be extinguished entirely. This world is now covered in great warriors who have been through hardships equal in difficulty to legendary feats detailed in myths.”
The little Earth drifted back into the sky to join the other worlds, but the second globe drifted alongside the angel as she approached the two men before her. She cupped her hands before her in order to cradle the sapphire marble as she spoke again. “This world is different in many ways. A world that is unique in its timelessness and beauty, akin to a replica to the Garden of Eden. It is imperfect, yes, but it is one of my treasured wards that I am permitted to oversee.” she held the planet closer to them so they could see it, and the two marveled at how lush the planet was. Grand forests, rolling hills, entire continents of nothing but trees that towered into the clouds, and tiny specks that appeared to be cities seen from high above. Dean almost felt himself compelled to reach out and touch the gorgeous thing before Wenorria pulled it close to her chest.
Her tone dropped into one of somberness, and the light around her dimmed slightly. “There has been a change to this world, one that I was unable to foresee or prevent due to my negligence. A force of dread is growing somewhere in the land and has taken root out of my sight. Should this continue the garden will wither and die like so many others before it. I do not wish to see such a fate befall this fresh jewel, as it is too young to be devoured by darkness.”
The angel fell silent, prompting Dean to take another hesitant step towards her. “So were we brought here because we’re supposed to do something about it?”
The light around Wenorria brightened once again as she released the world in her hands, the globe rising to join the others in the sky hastily as she put her hands together again. “Yes, and it is of my own doing. I had made a plea for aid to one of my kin overseeing the passage of souls, requesting two warriors from Earth that might be of use to me. I had asked that they would be crafty, resourceful, and most of all capable of earning redemption.”
Allen’s eye twitched at the word. “Redemption? Shit, I guess we really were supposed to go to Hell, huh? Well that’s just fantastic.” He crossed his arms and turned his gaze away from the angel.
The angel remained silent for a moment, then sighed quietly. “Perhaps. I do not know if you would have been sent to damnation or made to repent in the realm of Purgatory, but I am certain that you would not have passed into the gates of paradise. That is why I am offering you the chance to earn your redemption by using your skills in combat. I am aware of the hardships you have faced in your lives and being asked to fight once more is a burden, but I am in need of your skills. It causes me great distress to ask you to once again take up arms after all that you have been through, yet I cannot let this opportunity pass without trying to enlist your services.”
Dean closed his eyes as he thought up a new question, one that might get her to stop begging. “Well… I’m not saying that we accept yet, but I want to know more about what it is you’re dropping us into before I decide. What kind of world is this place, what’s it called, and what are we going to be facing?”
“Certainly, that is a most reasonable request. The name of this world is Nalkene, and it is quite different from the world that bore you. Aspects of what you would call fantasy or mythology are commonplace in this world, such as the usage of magic, the threat of monsters, and the presence of races beyond humans that make up the population. I can sense your doubt, but I know from seeing your lives that you are familiar with this to some extent.”
Both men nodded along, but remained silent so she could resume uninterrupted. “As for the threat you will be facing, I cannot tell you for certain what is the source but I can tell you what changes I have seen. The monsters of the land have surged in population and are now migrating to places they do not normally venture to, the dead have begun to rise from their slumber and seek out the blood of innocents, and a pale mist lurks in the deepest forests devouring the life of any who touch it. Worst of all, a series of caverns deep below the surface have vanished from my sight, a sure sign that whatever lurks there is able to repel the light of the heavens. This does not bode well, as only the worst of fiendish creatures can perform such a task.”
A short cough came from Allen so he could bring the focus to him. “So what do the people of Nalkene have to fight with? Guns and bombs, or are they still, yaknow, swords and bows?”
“You will find their technology is quite primitive compared to your world. Yes, they still rely on melee combat as their primary form of offense and defense, but magic has granted them some means of attacking that are on par with firearms. Medieval is the term you would find most fitting for their technological progress, but some outliers exist in the far reaches.”
“So a typical fantasy world, huh?” He scoffed at the idea, though he actually liked the idea. “Doesn’t sound that bad, but how are we supposed to do anything? We aren’t going to know the local language or have any modern gear, and by the looks of it all of our augments are gone too, and you should know that we’re accustomed to using guns for combat, not swords. You got some kind of solution for that?”
The angel nodded, then extended her hands out palm side up. “There are many ways that I am able to assist you, prepare you, and guide you. The first thing I may do, should you accept this mission, is overwrite your knowledge of your spoken languages with one of the tongues from the world. You are each able to speak two languages, thus I would be able to replace your knowledge of English for the tongue of humans, and your secondary languages with one of your choice. Such a task is painless and would cause no pain or discomfort.”
Her head tilted upwards slightly as she resumed with a slightly louder tone. “Additionally, I have the authority as a steward to send forth champions with a blessing from the heavens, as well as conjure forth new vessels for you that would be able to harness the magical flow of the world as a native inhabitant could. Even your knowledge of a mundane skill could be changed to the memories of a veteran knight, granting you swordsmanship on par with the strongest of this world’s protectors. With these powers you will eventually exceed the state you were in while mechanically aided. Are these terms satisfactory for you?”
Dean and Allen looked at one another and nodded in unison. They were both impressed by Wenorria’s offer, and her ability to help them was surprisingly better than they had anticipated. Dean stepped forth to answer her. “Ma’am, I believe I speak for both of us when I say that we accept, right Allen?”
The slender man grinned and leaned against his larger friend, then let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I’m in. Fighting must run deeper than blood in me, because even in the afterlife I’m still raring to go.”
The glow emanating from Wenorria brightened, and though they could not see it through the veil that covered her she was smiling happily. “You have my eternal thanks, Allen Finnegan and Dean Kinnaird. Should your mission be successful, your entry to the eternal realms of paradise is guaranteed. If you have no more questions, I will ask that one of you approaches me and takes hold of my hands so I might prepare you for transfer.”
She held her hands out for them to take as her light rose to a new height of brilliance. Allen nudged Dean to have him go forth first, and though he was hesitant to approach the glowing being he managed to do it with his eyes closed. He felt her fingers wrap around his hands as a warm feeling spread through his body, circle within his body, and reach into his mind. His eyes drifted closed for a moment as the angel reworked his mind as he wished her to, then with a sudden jerk he was alert once more and stepped away from the angel. His head felt numb and prickly like a pinched nerve while his tongue moved in his mouth in strange ways. He was trying to ask if Allen could understand him, but his friend did not.
Allen looked to the angel, back to Dean, then returned to the angel as he stepped closer to her. “Right… I guess that’s the language of Nalkene? Well it’s Greek to me. Hey, so how do we know-” His hands met with the angel’s, and for a moment he too staggered as her powers remodeled his mind into its new shape. He resumed speaking, unaware of the change in how he spoke in a new language. “-if this really worked? Oh, my mouth feels funny.”
Dean nudged him to draw his attention, his new language flowing forth effortlessly. “Hey, I think it worked. I touched her hands and then I couldn’t understand you, but now you’re speaking English again.”
The angel chuckled as he said this as clasped her hands together. “No, you are no longer speaking your native language. As it was promised, there is no pain or discomfort in these changes, and your minds are fully adapted to the new language of Nal’Hruke. However, when I inquired with you mentally if you wished to have any of your existing talents changed in favor of skills befitting warriors of this new land neither of you accepted the offered abilities. I will admit that this is a first, but the reasoning you each had was unique.”
Allen showed off a cocky grin as he planted a hand on his hip, his voice somewhat bolder than before. “I’m a fast learner, and besides, I want to learn how to fight first hand.”
Dean was no less confident, though he was less bold in his words. “I think my CQC skills are fine, but if I need something sharp I can make do with just about anything on hand.”
Wenorria bowed her head slowly and spoke with respect for their decision. “I understand. You have chosen to remain true to yourselves, a truly virtuous thing to do. However, a blessing was promised, and I cannot in good charity allow you to embark in my service without some means of defending yourselves.”
She swept her arms wide, and a collection of lights began to spread out across the misty landscape around them. The two men watched as each speck of light drifted until it had ample space to itself, then in a flash transformed into a weapon or tool of some kind for each speck. There were axes, spears, swords, shields, staves and wands, books and bags, and specialized tools for every profession ranging from simple sewing supplies to gilded pickaxes. Wenorria explained, “Each of these items is a blessing in itself and will grant you both the object you see as well as a power specific to the task it performs. You will know just by approaching one of these objects what it is and what you shall receive in addition to it. A warning must be given: you may only choose one, and the one you choose will be bound to your service for the entirety of your life.”
Each of the men decided to take a different path through the forest of hovering items, with Allen gleefully browsing a collection of swords and spears while Dean perused the less discernible items. These objects were strange and confusing to Dean, but with each one he passed he got a sense of what it was they were. A twisted rose tattoo would grant him control over plants and animals. The skeletal hand that would replace his own would make him able to kill with a single touch. Those prism shaped earrings would infuse his body with powerful psychic energies. These were all interesting, but nothing he found interest in. At the same moment that Allen had chosen a spear of elemental magics, Dean found himself looking at an odd collection of mechanical parts and tubes, gears and springs, and a small tear in reality. He looked closer into the use of this blessing, then without hesitation reached into it and grasped at the power within.
The two approached the angel once they had made their choice, the weapons and tools behind them vanishing back into specks of light, and presented their choices to Wenorria. She looked at the items reverently, her ethereal voice echoing in the air as she recounted their powers. “The Spear of Storms, and with it the ability to conjure a hurricane. A powerful item befitting a champion of thunder and wind. Use it wisely, Allen. And yours, Dean, is the Armament of Innovation. This weapon is unique in the way that it must be crafted by the one wishing to use it, and once crafted it will grow stronger alongside its owner and change to suit their needs. The power it comes with is the ability to conjure forth ammunition for the Armament at will.”
Dean glanced at his friend with a look of doubt. “You went for a spear? You said two years ago that only little bitches choose the spear because it’s the easiest weapon to use.”
Allen returned the same look with equal distaste. “Says the guy who picked a gun for a world of knights and dragons. Completely defeats the purpose of going to a magical world if you just shoot everything.”
The two continued to glare until their scorn melted into laughter. In truth, neither was actually upset with the other, they were just doing some playful teasing. Even Wenorria joined their mirth for a moment, but soon she grew somber as she readied herself for the next part. “It is time. I must bid you farewell and send you to the world now, but there is something you must know. There are only two places of divine power on this world remaining, and they are quite far apart. I may only send one person to each altar with the power residing there.”
Allen and Dean grimaced as they had both known that there would be a catch, but considering this was the only hitch they were unperturbed. Allen responded kindly, “That’s alright. We’ve been on solo ops before. Maybe tell us beforehand next time, yeah?”
“Of course…” The angel hesitated again as she looked between them, then raised her hand to speak again. “Two more pieces of wisdom, if you will accept them. First, your blessings will grow with you as you journey, and you will learn from the inhabitants of this land how they measure their strength. You will undoubtedly surpass them with your abilities, and may find integrating with the inhabitants a challenge. Second, you are agents of divine will, but this does not exempt you from the laws of the land. Your holy mission is known only to you, and even if explained to others you might be deemed a liar or stricken with madness.”
Two shimmering lights appeared at her sides, each showing a distorted image of the world they would be entering. She added with a note of finality in her voice, “Go forth, and save this world from destruction, Champions of Justice!”
Allen looked to the portal on the right with a wide grin on his face, his sharp eyes darting to see his closest ally at his side. “This is it brother. A right and true mission from God. Good luck down there, yeah?”
Dean looked into the left portal, and with a weary smile he raised his hand for Allen to grasp. His voice lowered into a hoarse growl as his gesture was received. “Until we meet again Allen, which I hope won’t be too long. Don’t get too distracted with the elves.”
The two shared one more chuckle as they stepped into their chosen gateways, the lights in their eyes going dark as their souls traveled down into their new bodies.