----------------------------------------

The letter at the forefront of his mind, Pierre opened the door. At the bottom of the steps, the now eight police officers (four of whom looked suspiciously like they were armed police) stared up at him.

Pierre closed the door.

"Ah, right..... Bollocks.”

—-

The sound of clattering bashed against the front porch, accompanied by an agitated voice, "Mr Havelock? Mr Havelock, we know you're in there. We saw you open the door! Mr Havelock, we just want a quick chat, sir."

Pierre cussed to himself, 'Eight of them?! Maybe they think I've been held hostage or something. I mean, eight officers for some stupid fireworks. I don't have time for this.'

Weighing up his options took little time. There would be no chance of sneaking back out through the window now that the police knew he was inside. He glanced down at his hip, at the dull, brown-wrapped colour of his sword: he had never thought to wield it again for as long as he lived…

Pierre steadied his breathing in a concentration method learnt a literal lifetime ago. He stood to one side of the front door, enough that it could swing open without hitting him, his hand on the lock switch. Outside, he knew two of the armed response officers were making their way up the steps. They weren't actually carrying live ammo, which came as a relief, but still, they wore stab-proof vests and heavy helmets. In their hands was what the police lovingly called "The Big Red Key" - An object with the appearance of a fire hydrant, used for knocking down doors.

Pierre waited silently inside the lightless porch of his house, listening for the sounds of heavy boots on steps and the grunts of the man holding 'the key', the faint thud as the second man braced himself against the door.

"-- Two, One, Hrgh!"

At the exact moment they swung, the very second the two officers put all their force into busting down the door - Pierre swung it open.

The two men, carried by weight, momentum and surprise, were sent flying into the house's hallway. The Big Red Key leaving a visible dent on the floorboards where it landed.

Before the two men could recover from their sudden fall, Pierre shot out past them and pulled the door closed behind him with a clicking of the faulty lock falling into place.

'The blasted thing jams itself. I always have to leave windows open to get back in when it shuts me out. It's about time I used that to my advantage. Two down.'

Slowly, Pierre turned around to face the six remaining and highly bemused men & women of the law standing before him. Four were the regular kind, in high visibility jackets with the words 'Police' helpfully plastered everywhere. The other two dressed in the riot clothing of the armed response crews.

"Ummm, sir? Are you quite alright? How about you unlock that door for our colleagues? We can all have a nice chat over some lovely tea, maybe?"

Said one of the plain-clothes officers.

Gem grinned, laid a hand to the familiar feeling grip of his hilt and drew forth an old partner; "Sorry lads, but I've got somewhere to be!"

Sword Stock Image [https://i.imgur.com/UAa3om9.png]

Pierre launched forward like a tiger. The nearest officer flailed backyards in response, taking out a baton to defend himself. Pierre simply ducked underneath it, flipped his sword into a backwards grip and rammed the butt of the weapon into the unfortunate man's stomach.

This first officer tumbled backwards, coughing up spittle and falling to his knees, "Next?"

A second officer drew out the yellow silhouette of a taser gun while a third officer edged nearer with a baton of her own and a much better stance than her fallen workmate.

"Last warning, sir. We're just trying to do our jobs. Lay down the weapon."

Pierre laughed, "Everyone's just trying to do their jobs, woman. Soldiers on both sides of a battlefield are just trying to do their jobs, are they not?"

"Battlefield? Is that what this is, you were in the 'War'? We can get you help if that's what it is. PTSD is very understandable si--"

"Pah! How old do I look to you? I'm not even 60 yet, thank you very much! And you know what? I've never felt more alive!!" Pierre roared with menace as he lunged forward.

'Officer two' fired his taser while 'three' readied her baton. Gem was faster.

While the officers all kept their eyes focused on his sword, his free hand grabbed number three by the forearm and dragged her close. The taser hit. Three's baton clattered against the tarmac beneath.

Before officer two could even realise his mistake, Pierre tackled the now unconscious woman forward and into her friend, pinning the smaller man underneath his own colleague.

"Four and five. Three to go boys!" Pierre howled like a wolf in its prime - Turning his attention to the two riot police. They stood utterly star-struck but ready nonetheless. In each of their hands was a baton gun, a non-lethal weapon used to shoot massive rubber bullets at an attacker. They now raised those weapons.

Pierre charged towards them, past the cordon of police squad cars, bathed in the glow of the streetlights. The two fired, massive rounds whistling through the air. Gem leapt, twirling through the air like a man four decades younger.

His ancient sword glittered a brilliant arc through the sky, reflecting the moon's light above as it cut through both projectiles in a single flourish only a sword-master could have ever hoped to pull off. He landed back on his feet right before one of the two riot officers, the halved rubber bullets raining down harmlessly around them.

The man reached down to catch Pierre by the shirt collar but was too slow. Pierre grabbed from the officer's belt, his bottle of mace - Spraying an unhealthy amount into their eyes. They flailed back in pain.

"Don't rub your eyes, remember basic training, Craig, don't rub your eyes!" The other officer yelled across to her friend. Pierre moved towards this second one, mace in one hand, sword in the other.

The woman threw down her helmet's visor and grabbed her own bottle of mace, tossing aside her emptied baton gun; "Let's see how you like it, you crazy old man!"

She said, partially shouting over the sound of her friend writhing painfully behind them. Her eyes focused solely on the bottle in Pierre's hand, she almost didn't see him pierce forward with a thrust of his sword towards her face. Desperately, she reeled back away, but Pierre's strike hit true - His blade cracked the plastic visor, flipping it upwards and allowing him to spray this second officer in the face with more mace.

The two riot officers, now incapacitated as they searched around for something to clean their eyes with, Pierre turned back towards the steps of the house.

The tasered officer was still on the floor, unconscious. The one he had winded and the one who had shot his own friend with said taser: had both retreated into one of the squad cars, doors firmly locked and screaming into a radio for backup.

The faint sound of thuds from inside the house indicated the two trapped officers would soon break back out. But for now, all that remained in his path was one brave hanger-on. A regular cop, baton in one hand, taser in the other, 'number eight’.

Pierre covered the distance with a simple walk, passing by police cars, 'mazed' riot cops and tasered officers in his wake. He let the nearly empty bottle fall out of his hand to clatter noisily on the floor beneath - Eyes locked on the final man.

"No-now stay back.... I, I-i will fire Sir!" The boy squeaked.

Pierre glanced down at his sword as he spoke, "Do you know lad, what this Magite blade does?"

"Please Sir, I'm telling you to stay back!"

"It amplifies--"

"Please, I-i-i have a wife. She's expecting children!"

"--My Power to--"

"Stay Back!!"

"--Predict the weather!!!!"

The officer stared blankly at Pierre, "You what?"

THUD

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Pierre's fist collided mightily with the man's jaw, sending him spiralling into a stationary car’s bonnet.

"Sorry 'fellas," Pierre said, shaking his fist from the impact, "But I told you I have someplace to be. You'll sleep it off by morning - Probably."

And with that, the rugged-rogue old man sprinted down the roadway towards his final destination.

****

"--You said once that some people like being alone - Do you want me to leave you?"

"Of course not, you idiot. Never!" Pierre yelled aloud to no one in particular.

He was running now, faster than he had ever in his life. Down short back alleyways, past confused passers-by. Weaving in and out of periodic traffic.

"--Did you think she was ugly? Too much of a tomboy?"

"Ha! Never even crossed my mind!"

More of Maka's words seemed to file through his mind now. His chest was heaving: in the distance, he could have sworn he heard the sound of sirens. It wouldn't take the police long to catch up.

"Every strike and block you made is infinitely better than a signature in mere pen and ink could ever be - Even with three decades of rust on you."

He vaulted over an upturned dustbin before nearly stumbling around the next corner. Swung his sword with fervour to cut a padlock free of a gate blocking a path he knew would shorten the journey.

"You are my friend still, no? Or has thirty years shaken our bond so much that you would abandon me in a world I do not know, dear Gem?"

"I'll never abandon you again, damn it!" Sweat seemed to drip from every pore now. His lungs felt like they were ablaze with the strain.

"Would you be so embarrassed to have a so-called 'waifu' like me as a companion, at least for a time?"

"It would be the honour of my life!" Pierre's breath grew ever more ragged with each step. He was grabbed by some thug of a pedestrian, telling him to apologise for charging through the busy streets. Pierre snarled at the man, flashing his sword to scare the youth off before bottling once more down the last few roads.

"Did you ever tell her how you felt?"

Pierre rounded the last bend, almost collapsing against the nearest wall as he caught it for support - He had made it. Everything hurt, every bone in his body complained, every ligament stretched and screamed - But he had made it.

And there she stood, the girl with the silky white hair flowing freely. The girl with the infinitely deep, swirling brown eyes. She stood in that same old stupid park. They hadn't even spent that much time there and yet Pierre couldn't but feel a strange affinity towards the place. The place where they'd had their first real argument, the place where they had watched children play ball and the sun setting. The place of their first date.

Maka stood a little way in front of the chip van, the one between the two small park benches and the tremendous old beech tree. She stared all around, glanced up at the stars and twirled. It reminded Pierre of something out of a classic film noir, her face lit by the streetlamps as she took it all in one last time.

The city, the moon and stars, the park - He stood simply watching for a few moments, dazzled by how strangely beautiful such a mundane sight could be, as the lone girl stood, herself enraptured by the stars above, the nature all around and the grand old city in the distance.

And then she stopped, nodding to herself as though resolved and content with her last look at the world of Earth. It took all he had to start moving again, to will his feet to take one step after the other, to make his vocal cords cry out once more; "MAKA!!"

She turned to face the sound of his voice, her hair fluttering behind her, her eyes glistening with a teary sparkle. Altogether too cliché, although too real.

"...What are you doing here?"

"Me? What about you, hey?"

"Pierre, please, it has to be this way...."

"Says who? Aardig or Maka?"

"What? Pierre, the letter, we're one and the same. Didn't you read it? You already know, I think you always knew in some way, there is no way back for you, Pierre. I'm sorry."

"So what, you're just going to give up? Who cares about the damn letter!"

"Now, who is it says that? Pierre or Gem?"

Pierre shook his head ruefully, still pacing slowly across the green to close the distance between him and Maka.

"Those are names, girl. The person is only one man."

"Then why did you ask me--"

"Intent, woman! Everything has intent; every action, however small, always means something - Even if the meaning is as simple as nothing at all!"

"Pierre you aren't not making any sense--"

"I ask, what part of you wishes for this, hmm? What part of your personality demands we part like this? Because I don't believe it's either. I don't think the excitable Maka or the lonely Aardig wishes this. Tell me, am I wrong?!"

Maka's cheeks dripped now with tears as she shook her head; "It doesn't matter, this is our end. I'm sorry, Pierre, but... Goodbye."

She turned with a flourish, and in a single awful instant, a white spec appeared, then opened and swarmed and spread and burned its way into reality, in the space before Aardig now stood a tower white oval of blistering light.

Pierre reached with all his remaining might and grabbed her hand; "I won't leave you to your fate a second time, you hear me!?"

The tears poured from Maka's pained face, "There is no other way. Pierre, don't make this so sad. Today is a happy day. It is the day you leave your old life behind and move o--"

"And what about you!?"

Silence.

"Tell me Pierre, if this was one of your stori--"

"This isn't one of my damn books!"

"But what if it was? How would it end, a tale of a beautiful woman appearing before a lonely man locked away in his house - How would that story end?"

"Maka--"

"Tell Me! Please..."

Pierre's grip on her hand loosened a faction, "I suppose the girl would show the man a better way to live, remind him of the world's wonders - Show him life is worth living again..."

"And then? Well?"

"...And then the girl would probably turn out to have been a ghost, dream or maybe spirit of some former lover. They would disappear, leaving the man heartbroken for a time but able to live again… But Maka--"

She freed her hand from his and took another step forward. Pierre followed suit, grabbing her firmly but carefully by the shoulders.

"I told you, didn't I? This isn't some stupid book!" He bellowed desperately.

"For Sun's sake Pierre, there is no other way. This planet has no magic, but for what's inside your head, no way to get you home."

"And what if I just stepped through, straight into that portal right now?"

Maka's face took on a mix of anger and shock.

"You would never be so stupid! Chances are you would just step through, and nothing would happen, but equally, what if you got sent somewhere random. Teleported into deep space to suffocate and freeze in an instant?"

"But you're wrong. There is Magite on this planet, see?" He gestured down to their respective swords.

Maka paused before, with a sigh, leaning in close and gently caressing Pierre's face with her soft hands, "This sword is as much a projection as I am. It's not real, an extension of my powers back in that temple thousands of years ago, just like I am in this body."

Pierre half-chuckled, laying a hand reflexively on his own blade's hilt. His wearing a sword was clearly unnoticeably natural in 'Aardig's’ eyes.

"My sword, silly, bestowed upon me the day your father ordained me a knight of the realm - An honest to goodness Goibniu sword."

Maka's face grew ever more pained. She leaned in until her forehead matched intermittently with his, greying hair sweeping against white, "It is a sliver of metal, nothing more."

"Your letter said for every sword, you gain a second or two more here. Why could mine not act as an anchor for me to step through that gate back to Our World? That blasted temple amplifies your power? Then wish for this sword and its wielder to return!"

"Pierre, that isn't science, it's desperation. I must go, and you must stay. That is all there is. Perhaps I was a fool to travel here at all. Maybe I’ve only caused you more pain…"

"Says who? How is that fair?!"

Maka pulled back, "Fair? When has life ever been fair, Pierre? We must simply make the best of what we can - Live with the hand we are dealt."

"But haven't we earned it? Isn't thirty years of being apart enough? Haven't we god-damn earned one happy ending for once in our blasted lives?!"

Maka smiled through the tears staining her face, her body backlit by the glow of the portal behind. She smiled as broadly as one can imagine while Pierre spoke his final words.

"I-I... I love you Sola, I always have, and I always will - I Love You!!"

Aardig stepped forward into the light.

And Gem Havler followed a step behind, reaching out one last time. Hands clasping together, the two faded as the portal closed once and for all.

----------------------------------------