Only one thought filled Cleary’s mind: this is going to get so many views. He didn’t register the absurdity of the situation, nor did he even try to understand what was going on or come to the conclusion that he should run for his life. Instead, his mind was whirling with ideas on what to title this gem he was capturing.
He held the camera as steadily as he could while the men jumped- almost teleported- around the field, their clash only visible through the sparks that flew off as their swords met. They were too fast for Cleary to see properly, but he figured slowing the video down during editing would solve the problem. He had to use his ears more than his eyes to track the battle, following the clash of metal and booms of energy. At one point, the blonde man began shooting literal balls of black fire and the man named Malich retaliated with bolts of lightning. It was like a movie, and the small voice in the back of Cleary’s mind warning him about the danger he was in got drowned out by the excitement of it all. He couldn’t hear what the men were saying, but that didn’t matter- as far as he was concerned, all that mattered was what he could see.
—
“It’s beautiful,” Kelt shouted with a crazed laugh. When he was put on this mission, he never imagined it would actually come this close to succeeding. Before him was a man only whispered of in hushed tones in the corners of pubs, one whom his colleagues had been hunting for years without success, yet only a few months on the assignment and here he was. A legend in their world referred to as the King of the Sword, Malich Drachia, stood before him in the flesh. “By Kria, no wonder everyone hunts you. I’d almost be okay dying to this technique.”
Malich didn’t respond as he danced around the fireballs thrown at him, cutting a few into non-existence as he closed the distance. Though Kelt was seen as one of the greatest warriors of his generation, he was only barely scraping by in this battle, and the fatigue of being on the edge was building up. He braced himself and charged, trying to switch to the offensive, but his attacks were easily parried by Malich’s katana. Before he could find his flow of attack, Malich dashed forward and hit Kelt with a swift roundhouse kick, sending him flying like a ragdoll.
The air was forced out of his lungs as Kelt crashed onto the ground. He got up as quickly as he could, wheezing for breath as blood trickled down the corners of his mouth. Malich didn’t give him a moment's rest, flashing forward as he channelled energy through his sword, forming blue sparks that traced up and down the blade in strange loops and patterns. Kelt’s eyes widened as Malich swiped his katana down on his head seemingly effortlessly. He barely jumped back, preventing the attack from landing on his skull, though he was too slow to stop it from slashing his chest open.
Malich’s blade cut through Kelt’s armour like butter as he screamed out in pain. Kelt tumbled backwards, his sword falling out of his hand as he fell on his back. Malich reached into his kimono and took out a white cloth, using it to wipe the blood off his katana before sheathing it on his hip.
“You fought well, Gonosi Dog,” Malich said sincerely. “It would have been wonderful to watch you grow if you had not been so set on this path.”
Kelt laughed before wincing in pain, touching his chest as blood gushed from the wound. “It is not over yet, King of the Sword,” he muttered. He grabbed a black pill in the shape of a kidney bean out of what seemed like thin air, quickly popping it in his mouth and swallowing. The action did not go unnoticed by Malich, who immediately dashed forward and stabbed his blade into Kelt’s neck. “Do not pull tricks and die with dignity,” he said, sounding irritated.
The swordsman crouched down and dug his hand into Kelt’s throat, trying to find the pill. The blonde man’s eyes had glazed over, his dead face frozen in an expression of fear. Malich frowned, and upon realizing the pill was gone, immediately jumped back and raised his sword, energy flaring around him as he covered himself in a blue aura, his eyes glowing the same colour.
A moment later, Kelt’s corpse lit ablaze with black fire and began convulsing. It immediately snapped up into a standing position, like a puppet whose string had just been sharply tugged. Its charred skin began to welt and bubble as the corpse inflated in size, growing taller and broader. Its mouth formed into a painful smile, revealing a set of disgusting black teeth as a crown of spikes began growing out of its head.
“Who are you?” Malich asked in a low voice, body braced to attack.
“I’m still me. Is the King scared?” Kelt taunted as he cracked his neck. “We have far since developed beyond the level of you ancient purists. This is the true pinnacle of man!”
Malich frowned as he gauged his new enemy. “You have crippled your center, Gonosi Dog. Poisoning yourself with Titrik blood? Your life as a warrior is over.”
Kelt roared in laughter as his body finally stopped growing. He stood at 11 feet in height and although his arms and chest resembled an extremely muscular human, save for the massive claws that replaced his hands, his legs had transformed into those of a digitigrade mammal. “My life as a warrior may be over, but I will be a hero when I return. You, on the other hand, are going to lose more than just your life as a warrior. I will end you here.”
Malich sighed as he gave Kelt a look of pity. “Misled soul, you could have been so much more.”
Kelt’s face morphed in anger as he leaped forward, pulling his arms back to pummel Malich, who swiftly moved out of the attack's trajectory. The swordsman smoothly dodged the barrage of punches that came his way, leaving the ground riddled with small craters. Kelt’s new power seemed to sacrifice a lot of his technique and skill, shaking the ground after every attack, replacing it with brute force that Malich easily avoided.
“Stop moving!” Kelt roared as he slammed his hands into the ground once again, missing his target. Malich clicked his tongue before turning to face Kelt. “Let's end this,” he muttered, darting forward.
Kelt pulled his arm back to counter the oncoming attack, but Malich simply side-stepped out of the trajectory, moving to Kelt’s left side. Before the monster could react, he swiftly cut across Kelt’s neck, slashing it open. He then swiftly stabbed his katana into the monster’s stomach. With his katana still in Kelt’s stomach, Malich whispered a quick chant as lightning coursed from his body into the beast, lighting it up like a flare. Kelt screamed in pain before his body erupted in a bloody explosion and the sky was filled with a sharp blue light.
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Malich sighed, wiping the mixture of blood and mush off his face in disgust. “I would have remembered this battle fondly if not for this ending,” he sighed. “No point now, I suppose.” He sheathed his sword, looking at what was left of his opponent before disappearing from the field with a final flash of light.
—
Cleary breathed heavily as he stared at the now-empty field. As soon as he regained awareness, he started jumping in excitement, covering his mouth to stop himself from shouting in glee. “This is it,” he murmured as he saved the video and played through it on repeat. The battle was just under ten minutes long, but with the right amount of unnecessary commentary and ad placement, Cleary felt he could split this into at least two parts.
After he calmed down, he decided to rush home. However, as he made his way to the stairs, the rumbling started once again, shaking the ruined building. With a smile, Cleary ran back to the wall and hit record, hoping that the swordsman had come back and he could get some more content.
“Where are you,” he muttered as he ran around the floor, looking through every possible crack and hole to find something, anything else, to record, but there was nothing. Still, the rumbling didn't stop. Cleary sighed, feeling a bit confused, when the roof above him began to crack. “Oh,” he said, tilting his head as his hands dropped to his side. “Would you look at that,” It took a moment for him to remember how to scream as the building fell on top of him.
—
Cleary was in a void. It wasn't a thick black, like ink, but more like the empty, hollow black one saw when they closed their eyes in the dark, making him think there should be something he should see but there was nothing. Vague memories of the collapse filled his mind. It seemed the battle he had observed had been the final straw for the ruined site to fall apart. Hazy numbness filled him.
There was a figure in the distance. Cleary couldn't see them, but he sensed them. The figure spoke in a language Cleary had never heard before, but he understood the question.
“Change is coming, child,” the figure said in its strange tongue as it got closer. Its voice made Cleary feel like someone was using a cheese grater to dig their way out of his skull. “Do you wish to survive it?”
“Yes,” Cleary gramaced and responded.
“Very well,” the figure nodded. “So be it. I shall give you a gift. Answer another question first, child. What are you?”
Lots of options swirled around his head. Race, nationality, political affiliation. One, however, stuck out. Cleary thought back to when he started filming videos, when he did it out of passion. When his creations meant something. He thought back to his original dreams and objectives. He had never wanted to be the highlight, he had never required that he be the main character of his work. That just became the case when he chose the path he did. His dream, however, the one that kept him up at night, that made him feel guilt when he did the work he now took to, had always been to craft the vision and create the story itself, not just be a part of it. He had always been okay with being the one behind the scenes. He thought about the role he played in the recent battle.
“I’m… a cameraman,” Cleary said slowly.
The figure chuckled. “Very well.”
—
Cleary woke up amongst a pile of rubble, his body wracked with pain. It seemed he had avoided the brunt of the collapse as he pushed some chunks of concrete out of the way. Panic filled him as he scrambled for his camera, desperately hoping it had survived. He found it near the ground beside him, shattered and dented. Cleary felt like he could cry as he saw what had become of two months of his salary. Still, he desperately looked for the memory card to ensure it had at least come out unscathed. Fortunately, it looked fine.
He looked around before getting up, groaning in pain as he made his way back to his bike. He briefly recalled the strange dream, but he was far too in pain and distracted by the events that had occurred to focus on it too much. The simple task of jumping the fence was now the struggle of a lifetime, but after some minutes of clumsy struggle, he made it to the other side and grabbed his bike. His fatigue from the day was also catching up to him, making his head groggy.
Fortunately, the trip back was mainly downhill so Cleary put his mind on autopilot as he cruised home, his mind fixated on what he would do with the video. The only reasonable conclusion was that he had stumbled on some film site for a movie. Some Christopher Nolan-type purist who didn’t accept CGI. Cleary could only imagine how many hundreds of millions had been poured into the technology that allowed the actors to do all that.
As he made his way to his apartment after locking his bike up, his main worry was the bane of the existence of all content creators - copyright. Even worse, the studio behind whatever he just saw might even sue him for releasing the tape. He bit his bottom lip as he weighed the concerns. Not uploading was not an option. He had a couple of different channels with different themes running, and none was noticeably more popular than the other so if it got taken down for copyright, he could live with it and recover. Getting sued would be a way bigger issue, but it brought its own benefits. He could just imagine the clout he would get from getting sued by a massive studio for leaking clips of their filming. His ‘Clearing my Name’ video would blow up, as would any potential follow-up videos to answer questions.
No matter the consequence, the publicity was a win-win for him. Maybe to avoid too much legal controversy, I can test it? He thought. Release a few edited clips, see if anyone reports it or sends a cease and desist. Like dipping your toes in the water before jumping in the pool. I’ll make the caption vague enough to not specify whether it's real or not to let it pick up as people argue.
Impressed with his own genius, he got to work immediately, aiming to create a 10-15 second clip to upload to every platform he could. He unfortunately only had one angle, but beggars can't be choosers Cleary told himself. Unwilling to risk wasting his lucky break, he obsessed over which clips to use and how to make it exciting without spoiling the most. He spent a long time trying to decide what music to put over it and what filters or effects could bring it all together before deciding that the fight itself was so amazing it didn't need any of that. He decided to embrace the ‘found footage’ vibe. Next, he painfully mulled over what the caption should be, how to indicate that so much more was to come without overdoing the cash-grab, clout-chasing nature of it. For the first time in years, Cleary felt a spark of passion for what he was putting together.
A few hours later, as the sun began to peek over the horizon, Cleary had finally completed the ‘trailer’. He hit upload on every platform and every account he was active on before going to the living room and falling onto his mattress. As the pain of the collapsed ruin and tiredness from the day caught up with him, he passed out in an instant, a satisfied smile plastered on his drooling face.