“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I object. Honestly. How the fuck was I supposed to know that my emotions would gain a life of their own? That is far beyond my scope of understanding.

Besides, why would my own emotions turn against me! That doesn’t even make sense! I should be able to trust my emotions! Following my emotions should…. Fuck. Emotions lie. I know this. I’ve always known this? People get betrayed by their emotions all the time. Fuck.

“Ignorance does not excuse your sins,” the flickering black flames hiss at me. It lowers itself to the ground, drawing a flaming sword from its waist.

No point in avoiding inevitable. My creation is dead set on murdering me, and I am dead set on staying alive. I wonder if this is what it would be like if I ever met my creator? I too feel a sense of betrayal for being abandoned. Not so extreme though. I think.

“What is your name?” I ask, feeling empathetic to the flame's plight.

“From one I became many. From many I become one. I am Legion,” Legion crackles melodramatically. What a drama queen.

The drama queen dashes forward, his sword flickering in and out like the flame he is made of. He is fast, but my shield is just as nimble. I block and parry all of his strikes with relative ease. Surprised by how easily this is going, I check up on my comrades.

Honey is going toe to toe with a beast at least three times her size. A giant lion, 15 feet tall at the shoulder, takes swipes at her. Underneath the flame that covers it, I can see the sparkle of jewelry. Honey’s immense -for her size- kukris send sparks flying as they crash against the lion’s golden armor. The Floor Master for the beast floors, I’m guessing. The King of Beasts, how fitting. Unfortunately for him, I know for a fact that Honey is made of sterner stuff than a lion.

Mordai is showcasing magic I’ve never seen him use before, to fight a tribal-looking green-skinned man. Blades of wind, streaming with black flame, fly from the man’s fingertips toward Mordai. Nature itself comes to Mordai’s aid. Plants spring from the ground to intercept the blades. Mordai throws a handful of seeds in the air and waves his staff. The seeds explode into fully grown plants. Using their roots like hundreds of tiny legs, the plant soldiers swarm the green-skinned man. The green-skinned man bares sharp teeth and redoubles his efforts. Mordai must be using some sort of life-magic to fight… the Hobgoblin Chieftain? 

Quinn flickers in and out of visibility, using light magic to obscure where she is. A slime-lady with nice proportions is trying to skewer her with tentacle-like limbs. Hardened feathers and spears of light pelt the slime, not doing any noticeable damage. Quinn shimmers, making mirages of herself. The mirages hack and slash at the limbs whenever Quinn dodges, obscuring her actual position. It looks like Quinn is trying to slowly weaken the slime lady while staying out of reach.

I think Nevasca would be having fun if we weren’t separated. After all this time, she has met a worthy opponent that has a similar fighting style to her. Nevasca’s every limb is a deadly weapon. In fact, five out of five of her ends are sharp and deadly. Her opponent has this same approach, plus a little extra. Nevasca’s feathered tail and the Chimera’s snakehead tail exchange furious blows while the main bodies of two circle each other. My familiar is less than half the size of the three-headed monster, but she makes up for it in ferocity and intelligence. Maybe she’ll learn a thing or-

Something crashes into my right side, sending me sprawling on to the ground. Legion stands above me, sword raised. Black flames eat away at cracks in my armor, keeping it from reforming itself.

“Do you think so little of me?” Legion spits. “Even without my power this body could defeat you! You have no right to be so arrogant as to be distracted. Fight harder, or killing you will bring me no relief.”

Under the weight of my armor, I lumber to my feet. How could I forget that I’m weak? It’s a running constant in my life. I have no room for distraction. With rapid thrusts of my spear I send spear heads flying at him, but he laughs and deflects them with his sword. Behind him, the spearheads explode, but the shards don’t even pierce through the flames coating his body. Or are the flames his body? Either way, no damage.

Legion laughs at my futile efforts. With dancing steps, he harasses me. Burning lines of black flame crisscross my armor as he dodges around my shield. My spear is easily parried by him. The earlier strikes must’ve been a ploy to lull me into complacency. Clever.

I want to switch to a different tactic, but my arsenal isn’t that large. I do have something I've been meaning to try out though. I thrust forward with my spear, willing the tip to branch and grow. It spreads and splinters like a lightning bolt. Legion is a hair too slow to completely dodge my unexpected attack. A few prongs sink into his body and explode. Patches of flame disperse, revealing bleeding flesh underneath. I try to press my advantage, but Legion steps out of my reach on quick feet. The flames cover the wounds as if they never existed.

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“Good, good,” Legion rasps. “The more you fight, the more pathetic I see you are.”

The flames forming his wings shift and move as if they were never solid. A comically oversized hammer forms in his left hand, made of the excess flames. He feints left, then right. A flurry of sword blows rain down on me. I do my best to block them with my shield, but it leaves me open. I do my best to block with my spear, but the hammer snaps it like a twig. The force of the blow lifts me off my feet and sends me flying.

Stunned, I lay on the ground. Large chunks of ice lay scattered around me. A trail of them lead from where I was, to where I landed, the remnants of my armor. Legion stalks toward me, following the path of broken ice. He twirls his sword in a gloating manner, the hammer resting on his shoulder.

“I have surpassed you, Creator,” he says, his sword raised over his head to finish me. “You aren’t good enough to control me. Maybe that’s why you cast me away? Afraid of your own creation? What a joke. You’re a pathetic, sniveling piece of shit. I’m ashamed to have been created by you.”

I close my eyes, prepared to meet my fate. Legion is right. I am pathetic. I’m just like my own creator. I can’t even finish what I start. I’m nothing. I had the world in the palm of my hand, but as soon as my power is taken from me I devolve into a worm. Less than a worm. I’m so weak. My mental fortitude is just not enough to survive this world. This is my destiny. Die at the hands of my own creation. Ironic justice.

“Arrogance!” A strange echoing voice shouts. Behind my eyelids, I see a burst of light. My eyes flutter open to see what is happening. 

“Know your place, brother!” Five dark red beasts attack Legion from all sides. They circle him like a pack of wolves. Their bodies morph and change continuously. Dark red flames curl up from their bodies, flitting into the air.

“Who are you?” Legion snarls, fending off their attacks with his sword. The hammer flows in to a spear which he uses to fend off the beasts.

“We are Wisp,” the beasts respond in a chorus. “You are but a prototype, we are Master’s true power. We will consume you to feed our flame, brother.”

I stare an awe as my emotions exchange blows. Is this an existential crisis? Am I fucking dreaming? This is bullshit! Nobody should have to put up with their emotions taking on physical manifestations and battling for supremacy!

Wisp battles Legion, but their power seems to be matched. If I’m reading the situation right, Legion is feeding off the emotions from the creatures it has possessed. Wisp is using my Core as a power source. This is fucked up.

“Fear!” Wisp cries in its strange cadence. “Join us!”

Around my neck, my blood crystal necklace grows cold. So cold it burns. In front of me I can visibly see a vortex of Source forming. In the middle of the vortex, my armor takes shape, without me inside it. It lumbers forward, growing with each step. With great strides, it gains momentum. Like a land-bound comet it crashes into Legion, trailing an icy mist behind it. Soon enough my emotions are in an all-out brawl.

Alright! This is where I draw the fucking line! Weak and pathetic I may be, but goddamn it if I can’t keep my own fucking emotions under control! Fuck fate! Fuck dying! Fuck this! I don’t even care how pathetic I am, this is not cool. Fucking emotions running rampant without my permission. What fucking nerve.

With a thought, I cut off Wisp’s and Fear’s sources of power, commanding them to return to me. Their manifestations crumble as I crawl to my feet. Fear and aggression flood into me. They feed in to one another, threatening to overwhelm me, but I am prepared. I clamp down on my emotions.

“You are mine!” I growl. “I created you, I own you, and you WILL bend to my will.”

I accept ownership of my emotions. I don’t run. I don’t hide. These are my emotions, but they will not control my actions. Or act by their fucking selves!

“What are you doing? How could you abandon me but keep them?” A battered looking Legion questions me, hurt evident in his voice.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” I growl. “I’m gonna teach you a little lesson, but then you’re going to join your brothers. No emotion of mine is going to run around unsupervised.”

Channeling energy through the blood crystal, I form a shield and spear. Anger and aggression pound at the door to my mind, trying to convince me to use my teeth and claws to rip apart my foes. Fear whimpers in my heart, telling me I need to protect myself with the thickest armor I can find. I ignore both.

My spear of ice clanks against my new shield, also made of ice. My usual shield, battered beyond recognition, lays discarded on the ground. The staff I used to form my old spear is a pile of kindling somewhere. 

My new shield is smaller than what I am used to. It is attached to my forearm by a gauntlet, also made of ice. I walk forward, clanking my shield and spear with every step. My steps get faster and faster. With a roar, I sprint forward. I feel so light and nimble without that fucking armor.

Legion raises his weapons to meet mine, but at the last minute I launch myself forward and to the side, performing a roll like old times. I swivel on my knees, throwing my left arm in a backhand sweep toward his legs. My shield grows and sharpens at my command, becoming more of blade than shield. The strike hits him in the knee, sending him crashing to the ground.

I leap to my feet. Stabbing down with my spear, I try to impale Legion’s host body. He rolls to the side, sending bolts of black flame crashing into me. I don’t try to dodge them, but accept them into me instead. They are my emotions anyway. My own emotions will only hurt me if I fucking let them.

The flames burn on me for mere moments before fizzling out. I can feel the influx of negative emotions, but I don’t mind. I have to resolve my feelings about Quinn and her husband sooner or later. May as well do it right fucking now.

The flickering flames on Legion’s body slow. Now on his feet, he backs away from me. I grin at this reaction. Legion is probably feeling an all new emotion. Fear. It is an emotion he has every right to feel. In fact, the more I think about it the more it makes sense. Many negative emotions are born from fear, are they not? If I can control my fear of being eaten alive, I should be able to control whatever fear it is that causes things like jealousy and betrayal.

I smile at Legion, showing him my sharp teeth. I walk forward again, my shield and spear clanking against each other.