Early the next morning, after getting some rather restless sleep, Peter and the others slowly march their way over to the nearest village. It takes them a little over an hour to reach the destroyed town on foot, their pace slowed by having to carry every last scrap of their surviving supplies by hand, as well as by the injuries they’d all sustained the night before. They trudge into the wrecked village gate tired and bruised, but still ready to help wherever they can, however they can.

“Hello,” Peter says to one of the locals as he passes by, his voice slightly hoarse, his arms—especially his right one—screaming in protest against their constant use.

“What do you want?” The old man asks wearily, bending over to pick up a large chunk of debris with a pained grunt.

With a grunt of his own, Peter drops the materials he’d been carrying and helps the old man lift the large hunk of timber over their combined shoulders. “If we can, we’d like to help y’all clean up and rebuild here a little bit.”

“Uh-huh,” the old man says disbelievingly. “And what’s the catch? Sorry if I come across a little rude, kid, but I just had my hometown torched and wrecked, so my patience is a little low. If you want something out of us, just come clean and say it.”

Peter opens his mouth to reply, then slowly shuts it, unsure how to answer. He starts up again, only for Joel’s voice to cut him off. “Alright, you got us, mister…”

“Tim,” the old man replies impatiently.

“Tim, right. Look, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it, we need a vehicle of some kind. We lost ours in a bit of an…incident last night, and we really need a ride,” Joel says as kindly yet deliberately as he can. “If we can do anything to pay you back, we will, but we really need that ride.”

Tim drops the lumber he and Peter had been carrying off to the side, then pauses in his work to shoot Joel a suspicious glance. “What kind of incident?”

“Explosion,” Joel says without a lick of hesitation. “Some guy went haywire with his power out here and blew our ride to bits.”

Tim seems to take that in, nodding slowly. “I’d bet anything it was the same freak who hit us,” he says softly, reaching down with Peter to heft up a boulder about knee height to them.

“Sure,” Joel replies, equally softly, not wanting to fix that particular misunderstanding anytime soon. “So, do you have anything you guys could spare? We know you’re probably in no shape to be lending us anything, but…”

“We’d be grateful, nonetheless,” Sullivan finishes calmly. “And like Peter said, we’re here to help in any way we can.” To accentuate his point, he summons two green hands by his side that start picking up large chunks of rubble and placing them out of the way of several other repair workers in the area.

“Right…” Tim replies slowly, seeming to mull his options over in his head. “Alright,” he says after a while, nodding his head approvingly. “I can find something for you, in exchange for your help in the repairs and cleanup here. Just look around and start helping whoever you find. I’ll be back.” With that, he heads off further into the town to inquire about the state of their buggies.

“You heard the man,” Peter says as he hucks another chunk of debris aside, straining his right arm even further but ignoring the pain. “Let’s lend a hand wherever we can.”

Without any hesitation, the others break off and start helping whoever they run into, peeling debris away from the roads and homes, doing what they can to repair the smaller damage along the way, and providing what limited medical support they all can. After a few moments of work, Peter finds his way over to where Maria has stationed herself and sidles up next to her, helping dig away some charred and buried chunks of a home.

“So, can you still sense the Harbinger? Or any more of her people?” He asks her quietly as they work.

Maria shakes her head slightly. “No, just her, and she’s as close as ever. Just a few dozen miles that way,” she says, jutting her chin vaguely northwest. “Whoever this ‘Reaper’ guy was, I lost his sense in the middle of the night. Not just lost, it faded away, like he died somehow. I really don’t know what that could possibly mean, but I do know that it means he won’t be an issue for us.”

“Alright…” Peter says slowly, not wanting to guess as to why this Reaper had suddenly died so soon after Elyas left. He shakes that dark impression away and chooses to focus on the present and future. “So when they manage to rustle up a buggy for us, we’ll book it over to where the Harbinger is hiding. We can’t delay this any longer.” He looks down at his bloodied and fractured right arm, feeling the same kind of constant, painful pressure in his chest that he’d felt the night before when he was about to lose control. He forces his psyche to settle, retracting any power away from his body and locking it away, ensuring he won’t become a danger to these innocent people.

“Far too many people have gotten hurt or died already. I want to end this today, no matter what,” Peter finishes, sharing a determined look with Maria.

She smirks softly and nudges his left shoulder gently with her own as she walks past him to toss some more debris. “That’s my guy.”

***

Soaring through the partly cloudy morning skies in a blaze of black, Elyas scans the desolate wastes below him with a raptor’s eye, looking for any signs of his quarry. He’d been flying for about an hour now, after getting some rest and time to recover from the previous night’s wounds, both to his body and his pride. He’d stayed up for a while, Peter’s chillingly heated voice still haunting the corners of his mind, Sullivan’s furious determination in their battle still shaking him to his core. He’d considered himself an equal—perhaps even a superior—to both of them.

He knew that for sheer power, Peter had him beat by a landslide, even before he’d known how to Unleash, but he also knew that Peter was inexperienced in combat, unwilling to make the harder choices, so he thought that they were about even all told. He also knew that if there was anyone who could possibly rival Peter’s power, it was Sullivan. And besides raw strength, Sullivan had his speed, efficiency, and ruthless combat style to give him an edge in any battle he engaged in, but for all of his strengths, he also had the weakness of not being able to make the tough calls when needed, plus the weakness of not being able to Unleash.

Elyas had assumed that if it ever came to blows, he would ultimately come out on top, but he was sadly mistaken. Even in an Unleashed state, he was taken out by a single blow from Sullivan, and even a weakened and wounded Peter could lay him out with a single punch and some biting words. The memory of cowering away from Peter’s wrath—if such a small outburst could even be considered wrathful—brings a fresh stab of shame and regret into Elyas’ heart. His convictions were rock solid then, as they are now, but he couldn’t stand against the pressure from the others, he couldn’t win the contest of wills, and once again he was left with nothing but the clothes on his back and the scars on his body and mind.

With a furious shake of his head, Elyas clears his mind, focusing his thoughts on the task at hand. Alone or not, he will see this through to the end. Armed with the knowledge that he can go head to head with someone of the Harbinger’s caliber thanks to his battle against the Reaper and a fresh surge of loss and anger to feed his strength, he is confident that when he finds the Harbinger, he will be able to challenge her properly, and this time, be able to kill her.

He turns his attention to reaching out with his senses, doing his best to find her particular energy signature against the constant background noise his underdeveloped tracking skills constantly have to work through. He pauses in his flight to allow himself to focus more on tracking the Harbinger, coming to an abrupt halt in midair and simply hovering in place while he stretches his awareness out as far as he possibly can. After a while of intense focus, he thinks he is able to get a read on where she may be hiding, but he’s not entirely sure. Either way, he has a good enough guess as to where she should be, so he races off in that direction as fast as he can so he doesn’t lose what flimsy grip he has on her power.

He manages to near her location rather quickly thanks to his speedy flight, only taking about a minute before it feels like he’s hovering right above her general area. Slowly , carefully, he lowers himself closer to the ground so that he’s only floating about ten feet above the surface, close enough that he can get a good visual on the place, but not so close that he would get caught unaware by the Harbinger or any other dangerous being this far out. He presses forward, carefully scanning every rock, bush, gnarled tree, and pit he can find for any signs of his target, but he can’t seem to find any. Everywhere he looks he simply sees vast, empty, painfully beautiful desert stretching out as far as the eye can see.

Just when he is about to turn and give up his search, an explosion of hateful energy erupts from somewhere behind him, a wave of pain and death that entirely consumes his senses, slamming into his mind like a thunderstorm. He whips around to try and find the source of this energy, only to be bombarded by a secondary shockwave of sand and wind that explodes into his face, forcing him to take cover against the oncoming sandstorm. When the dust settles enough for him to remove his arm from his face, he looks on in combined horror and excitement as he sees a massive cloud of rising sand and red lightning just about two miles away. Some part of him realizes that if the Harbinger used this much power, it must mean she’s wiped out another village, but he mostly doesn’t care.

He’s found his prey.

With a cocky smirk and a quick stretch to get ready for battle, Elyas rockets forward at full speed, eager to finally finish this mission, to finally avenge his family and his village.

***

Maria’s head perks up suddenly from her work, her eyes wide with fear, her breaths coming in short. Joel notices her stiffening up behind him and turns around to ask if she’s okay, only to find that nearly everyone seems to be tensing up in the same way, though not to the same degree as she does. Everyone seems to be looking for something, as if they had all heard the same eerie noise, felt the same collective chill. Slowly, his eyes widen as he realizes what this must mean. “She’s at it again, isn’t she?” He asks Maria as she turns to face him.

“She just wiped out another town,” Maria whispers with a nod. “Get Peter. We need to go, now!”

“Already on it,” Sullivan replies from somewhere else, crashing through the stunned crowd of villagers and finding Peter and Tim in the middle of all of the confusion. “What’s the progress on the buggy?” He asks them both with a severe voice.

“We just got the last of the supplies loaded up into a small buggy they had lying around,” Peter answers quickly, clearly shaken up by the same intense feeling of death that everyone but Joel had felt. “It just needs fuel, then we can get the heck out of here.”

“Right,” Sullivan replies, making his way over to Maria to deliver the news.

As soon as the new—or, rather, old—buggy is fueled up, everyone hops into it at once. Joel claims the driver’s seat, takes a second to get himself familiar with the controls, then races off out of the partially restored town toward where Maria claims she can sense the Harbinger’s energy.

In the back row, Peter can feel his blood begin to boil up in anticipation, his body tensing for battle, his psyche flaring considerably. He shakes his head and starts doing some light, focused breathing to force his mind and body to be still. He runs some peaceful, happy memories through his mind, times when he would play with Jane when they were younger, the times he’d shared working the farm with his father before he died, all of the good times he’s shared with his friends both new and old. The steady stream of happy thoughts manages to soothe his rising power, but only just.

I swear, whatever Elyas did to me, I’m gonna make him undo it if we ever find him again, Peter promises to himself bitterly, causing another brief but intense spike of power to slice through his mind, generating a small burst of wind and sand around the buggy for a split second before he can put a lid on his energy yet again. He decides to just try and keep his mind blank like he used to back in West Village as they race over to confront the Harbinger once and for all, knowing that no matter what happens this day, it will all be over soon.

***

A shower of crimson-red sparks and ash float down gently from the sky, forming a beautifully horrifying spectacle of light and darkness all around the Harbinger as she basks in the wake of her own destruction. She spreads her arms out wide, breathing in the acrid air, the smell of burning flesh, the feeling of bloody fire warming her pristine face. She smiles, her lips parting slightly as her dark revelry continues. She feels fresh, rejuvenated, full of the same purpose and focus she remembers feeling when her Master first granted her this power. She can feel parts of her mind blacked out, scorched over and empty, but she doesn’t care. If anything, she is grateful for her Master’s support, his generous gift of purpose, of power.

As the fires die down and the last of the charred rubble of the hapless town around her finally collapses completely, she can feel another presence drop behind her, a middlingly powerful psyche equally full of purpose and determination. She lowers her arms and pivots around on her heel, her ivory-white robe billowing in the wind, giving her both a regal and an intimidating presence.

“I remember you…” She says slowly as her eyes land on Elyas. Her memory of the silver-haired man before her is a little hazy, but the wild look in his verdant eyes, the darkness of his psyche, they stand out sharply in her mind. “The survivor. I never expected to see you again.”

“Don’t think this will go the same as last time,” Elyas says, pushing down the rising tide of fear in his stomach, forcing the images of his dying family out of his mind. Fear and desperation will only cost him this battle. “I’m much more powerful now than you could possibly imagine. I will destroy you, for my family, for my village, for all of the innocent people you’ve killed.” He readies himself for battle, summoning a flaming aura of black around himself, forging an ebon scythe in his right hand, aiming the tip of its blade towards his enemy.

The Harbinger smirks at his display. “Cute trick. But I’m afraid you’re wrong on one very important account,” she says liltingly, taking to the air on crimson wings, summoning her own ruby-red scythe. “You’re still as weak as the day I met you.” She slices her scythe downward, hurling a slash of crimson energy toward Elyas, which he quickly dodges, easily avoiding the blade of power as it cleaves a giant gash into the spot he was just standing in.

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Elyas replies with a smirk, clawing his left hand and thrashing it upward, sending four distinct slash projectiles into the Harbinger’s energy barrier, leaving a blindingly dark explosion of power in their wake.

The Harbinger brushes the smoke and ash aside with a wave of her fingers, easily parrying Elyas’ followup strike by locking his blade between her own, wrenching her wrist to draw Elyas closer. She summons an orb of energy in her off hand and thrusts it forward at Elyas’ gut, just barely missing her target as he puts up a void field that blows her attack off course while simultaneously knocking himself free of her grip.

Elyas snarls slightly before rushing forward again, turning his scythe into two knives of black power, locking one blade with the Harbinger’s scythe and pushing it aside while attempting to stab the other through her exposed midsection. His second blade clashes against her aura with a shower of black and red sparks, fracturing the field just slightly with the impact. The Harbinger tries to wrest her scythe away from Elyas’ knife, but he is one step ahead of her. Using the momentum of her pulling away, Elyas dislodges his second knife from her energy armor and spins around her scythe blade in one quick motion, striking both of his blades into her aura with bone shattering force, piercing the protective field of crimson power and nearly stabbing her through the back.

Before his blades can make contact with their target, the Harbinger flaps her immense wings and thrusts herself further into the sky, knocking Elyas away and forcing him to give chase after her. The Harbinger crests through the air and turns back to face her opponent, a single finger outstretched and charging with bloody power as she fires beam after beam of crimson light toward this interestingly annoying foe. Elyas bobs and weaves between the incoming blasts of power, putting up void fields here and there to push aside any attack that draws too close to him. As he draws nearer and nearer to the Harbinger, he summons another massive scythe of black power, trailing it behind him as he rockets upward.

He soars past the Harbinger, thrusting his hand forward to draw his scythe in a vicious upward slash, clashing against her own scythe in a shower of bloody flames and ebony sparks. His scythe shatters as the Harbinger pumps more of her energy into her blade, slicing through the other weapon like it was paper. Elyas uses this brief distraction to loop back down and go for another pass at the Harbinger’s armor, slashing against it with two knives, leaving trailing cracks in his wake as he rockets past her again, throwing her slightly off balance as he passes her at such immense speed. He loops back up and to the right, going in for a sidewinding strike, crashing into and shattering another small fraction of her immense power.

When he goes in for another strike, the Harbinger thrusts a hand out, blowing him back and down a few dozen feet, but he manages to recover quickly, using his new trajectory to swing in from behind and take another chunk out of her armor, this time even managing to clip one of her wing constructs. He takes a tighter loop and summons a few claw slashes, striking against her armor and wings with vicious force, blasting her forward and almost completely destroying her protective field. He goes in for strike after strike, blitzing her from every possible angle with combined claw slashes, knife strikes, and the occasional scythe attack.

On his last pass with the scythe, the Harbinger manages to hook his blade and reel him back in, using her momentum to spin him around and toss him aside, throwing him wildly off balance and nearly sending him tumbling back to the surface. While he is distracted, she reforges her armor in a flash of fiery red and spreads her wings wide, turning each feathery point into individual blades and firing them out by the dozen at Elyas with a soft grunt of exertion and a flick of her wings.

Elyas’ eyes widen when he sees the incoming torrent of bladed feathers. He dives down to avoid the first salvo, whipping around as a few manage to track him, trailing after him like eager predators after catching a whiff of blood. The Harbinger keeps on firing burst after burst of these feathers, guiding them to follow their target like hounds, making them nearly impossible to avoid. Elyas shudders with each impact as blade after blade slashes against his void fields and flaming aura, leaving gashes on his arms and slices on his torso with each successful strike.

He eventually stops running and instead focuses all of his energy on empowering his void to create a field strong enough to catch each blade before they can strike him, catching each one and holding them suspended in midair, straining with the effort of keeping so many blasts of power at bay all at once. He continues to draw from his inner wells of power, strengthening his void to the point where it explodes outward in a burst of fury, shattering each feather like glass.

He barely has enough time to recover from this before the Harbinger comes barreling after him, scythe extended and ready to kill. He parries the blade with one of his knives, spinning underneath the blade and looping upward until he has a decent gap between him and the Harbinger. As he rises, he draws as much power into his hands as he can, clawing both of them by his side as he crests into the sky, twisting back around and thrashing his hands upward with a scream of fury, sending out ten massive claw strikes of black energy hurtling toward the Harbinger at immense speed, each one at least ten feet wide.

The Harbinger smirks as she sees the incoming attack and slashes her scythe forward, creating an immensely powerful and huge cutting projectile that rockets upward, clashing with the barrage of claw slashes and coming to an abrupt halt as both types of energy collide, pushing against each other with equal force and equal fury. Elyas yells in anger and keeps on slashing and slashing and slashing, adding dozens of strikes to his onslaught, each one simply colliding with and shattering against the Harbinger’s scythe slash as it continues its steady and destructive climb upward, guided and fueled by the Harbinger’s will and strength until it finally breaks through the last projectile and soars upward, ready to rend Elyas in two.

Elyas shakes with bound fury as he sees the massive projectile hurtling toward him. His whole body starts to glow with internal darkness as his aura starts to flicker and leap like a wildfire, his eyes glazing over with black wisps of power and rage. He lets out a shout of primal fury as he explodes with power, Unleashing his full might all at once, bringing his hands up before thrashing them back down with an animalistic roar, firing two huge, black slashes of energy at the Harbinger’s incoming projectile, instantly shattering the bloody power and slicing off her wings, just barely missing her in the process.

The impact of the two attacks blows the Harbinger back down to the ground with a resounding clap of thunder, only her field of protective energy keeping her alive as she strikes the dunes below. She bounds back into the air with an explosion of ruby power, her wings forming behind her as she rises back into the sky to clash with Elyas once again, her blood boiling at the thought of facing such a strong foe. Knowing she has no excuse to hold back against such power, she summons all of her might forward, gathering her energy into a single, massive blast of power behind her, chucking the giant orb of bloody energy toward Elyas as he roars down toward her.

Elyas sees the orb of red through the hazy black of his vision, whatever part of his mind that can still reason understanding the danger of this attack. With a monstrous cry he gathers his hands together, forming several razor-sharp spears of smoking black energy behind him before thrusting them forward, each one piercing through the attack and causing the orb of crimson to evaporate away in a murky mist. As the black-and-red smoke clears from Elyas’ tunnel vision, he notices that the Harbinger is nowhere to be seen.

He whips around to see the Harbinger rocketing into the sky behind him, a wild grin on her face, her hands splayed out in open challenge. She extends one of her hands forward and fires a massive beam of red power, which Elyas easily bats aside with one of his voids, screaming after her with dozens of jagged energy constructs trailing behind him. He clashes with the Harbinger’s aura arms first, shoving her back and thrashing against her protective field like a rabid vollick, sending wave after wave of his jagged constructs into her armor with each attack, each strike erupting off of the field with miniature explosions.

The Harbinger brings her wings in front of her face to protect herself from Elyas’ wild onslaught, charging up her power as Elyas continues thrashing against her armor with enraged cries. When the Harbinger finally draws up enough power, she releases it all in a single blast of energy, spreading her wings out wide, blasting Elyas far away and sending him tumbling in midair.

Before his rage-fueled mind can properly comprehend what’s going on and recover, he feels a piercing sensation of pain stab through his left shoulder, then his right as the Harbinger drives two spires of bloody energy through his arms, holding him still and limp in the air, writhing and howling in pain and rage.

“An impressive display,” she purrs, drawing closer to Elyas and running a finger through his matted hair, staring into his flaming black eyes with an almost childlike wonder. “But ultimately a futile one. You are not who my Master seeks.” She drops the spires and forces Elyas into the sand below with a forceful strike to the back of his head, knocking him out cold and cratering the ground around him. Slowly, regally, she lowers herself until she is just a few feet above the ground, watching Elyas’ limp body with a chillingly beautiful grin. “Now you will die, as you should have before.”

She raises her hand lazily, readying a scythe to strike down her crumpled foe before a flash of searing power goes through her senses, alerting her to a powerful attack nearing her. She looks back just in time to see a flash of green light about to strike her, then it disappears, whipping behind her and grabbing Elyas before she can even register what happened. Then, as soon as it disappeared, the green flash appears again, clashing with her scythe with a single mighty punch, blowing her back a good thirty feet from the impact. She braces herself against the strike as it connects, spreading her wings wide to slow herself down and regain her balance.

When she looks up after recovering from the attack, she smiles widely at the sight of Peter, surrounded by his allies, including Sullivan as he snaps back to rejoin his team. “At last…” She says with an eerily giddy voice. “You have come at last! The final test is upon us!”

Peter ignores her insane ramblings, turning to face Sullivan. “How is he?”

“Hurt, but he’s still breathing,” Sullivan replies steadily. He turns his gaze to face the Harbinger, staring her down, matching her wild gaze with his even one. “So, this is her. The Harbinger of Death.”

Maria nods slowly, her mind instantly jumping back to the horrifying visions she had gathered from the Harbinger’s mind the day she attacked. She sees hundreds of deaths, hundreds of people screaming for mercy, all at once, all over again. With concerted effort and a few cleansing breaths, Maria shoves the flashbacks aside, forcing her mind to focus on the task at hand. “Yes. She’s who we’ve been trailing.”

“I see you brought company,” the Harbinger says sweetly to Peter, flashing him a smile that would be dazzling if it weren’t for the insanity in her eyes, the look of a monster sizing up its next meal. “I hope you won’t be relying on them to save you, because you and I both know how meaningless they are in the end. All of their might combined pales in comparison to yours.”

Peter stares at the psychotic woman, his gaze shaking with combined fear, rage, determination, and the boiling sensation of power swirling through his veins, just begging to be Unleashed once more. He clamps down hard on his psyche, berating himself for his lapse in control before bringing himself to speak. “Is that why your master wants me? For my power?”

“Exactly,” the Harbinger replies with a sadistic smirk.

“Then why isn’t he here?” Joel asks, drawing his pistol and holding it out, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. “Why go through all of the trouble of luring us here instead of coming and fighting us personally?”

“Don’t think you can stall, child,” the Harbinger says menacingly, leveling a scornful gaze at Joel. “I am here to ensure my Master receives only the best. And for that…” Her wings flare out, her aura burning with charging power as she readies herself for her true and glorious purpose. “A test must be had. So, strike me down, if you can! Prove your worth, your power!” She readies her scythe and taunts Peter, beckoning him to strike first.

“Joel, be ready,” Maria whispers, pulling her steel orb out from the nearby buggy, holding it aloft beside her in a shimmering field of golden power.

“Right,” Joel replies, patting the Psycho Scrambler in affirmation.

“I’ll make an opening,” Sullivan says, leaning forward, arms up in a defensive stance, ready to pounce. He locks gazes with the Harbinger for a brief moment before he erupts forward, completely enveloped in a sparking field of green energy, his fists held up to protect his face, two constructs held out and ready to strike with blinding speed and bone shattering strength. He throws one construct forward in a straight punch, the other in for a brutal left hook, each one colliding with the Harbinger’s armor and bouncing off with resounding explosions of sound.

Before Sullivan can fire another volley of strikes, the Harbinger rockets forward herself, slashing her scythe upward and catching Sullivan by surprise, blasting him away with a slashing projectile from under his jaw. He only survives thanks to his Flash Blaze, and even then his head is sent spinning, the overwhelming pain of the attack breaking his concentration and shattering what little is left of his protective aura. Satisfied that one threat has been dealt with, the Harbinger continues her onslaught, firing slash after slash toward Peter and Joel, forcing them to leap between projectiles just to stay alive.

As he dives between slashes, Joel whips out the Scrambler, adjusts the dials on it for maximum output, then aims and fires from the dish end, emitting a dazzling field of blue-and-yellow static that causes each of the Harbinger’s slashes to fizzle away on contact as the field continues its slow and steady flight forward. The Harbinger recognizes what the incoming field might do to her just in time to fly above and around it, landing just behind Peter, ready to fire again, only to be caught in the gut by a relatively weak beam from Peter as he whips around and fires wildly out of his hand.

With the Harbinger distracted, Maria quickly dashes toward where Sullivan is about to crash, throwing an arm out to telekinetically catch him and reel him in before he can hit the ground, saving him from a gruesome end. She pulls him to herself, letting him rest gently on the sand before smacking him awake. “Now’s not the time to take a break, Sully!” She says urgently, using her telepathy to help speed up his mental recovery, pumping some of her energy into his aching psyche.

“Right,” Sullivan says, still a little woozy. He picks himself up, shakes his head to clear away the last of the cobwebs, then raises his Flash Blaze aura and summons four fist constructs to his side. Once again he blasts forward, this time using the reach of his constructs to stay out of the Harbinger’s direct range as he blasts her with a rapid flurry of psychic strikes, pummeling her wings and armor from behind before zipping around to avoid a retaliatory scythe slash.

Joel goes to fire his Scrambler once again to fully depower the Harbinger, but the strange device sparks and sputters when he tries to press the trigger button, still too hot to function after its last use, so he instead lobs his last explosive into her back, knocking her forward into a couple psion orbs from Peter. The Harbinger turns to attack Joel in retaliation, only to whip face-first into Maria’s steel orb as it comes flying into her, knocking her back before whipping around, bashing into her over and over again, forming small cracks in her psychic armor with each blow. The Harbinger snarls and rushes forward, dodging Maria’s next attack and ready to slice her in half with her outstretched scythe, only to be caught by Sullivan as he darts forward, checking her in the gut with a powerful flesh-and-blood punch before uppercutting her in the jaw with one of his constructs.

The Harbinger catches herself in midair and snarls, coughing ever so slightly. “I thought I made it clear…” she grinds out, launching herself a good hundred feet further into the air, spreading her blood-red wings out wide, blocking out the burning blue light of the sun and bathing her enemies in crimson. “I’m here to test your power, and yours alone!” She sweeps her hand out wide, firing a massive beam of ruby power, carving a massive gap at least a few hundred feet wide between Peter and Joel and the others.

Sullivan tries to run around the ditch, only to be met with another furious beam of red, forcing him to retreat as the Harbinger weaves a trail of destruction behind him, forcing him into a corner as she makes a scorched and collapsing circle of ground all around him and Maria. The carved circle starts to crumble into an unstable pile of sand, glass, and shattered stone, taking Maria and Sullivan down with it. Thinking fast, Maria hefts Sullivan up with her telekinesis and tosses him out of the sinkhole, only to be grabbed by one of his constructs in midair and hoisted up with him. Sullivan pulls Maria in close, holding onto her tightly as he musters up all of his strength and will to envelop the both of them in a protective mesh of arms and hands.

Furious that this nuisance continues to exist, the Harbinger readies her scythe for one final, devastating burst of power, only for her senses to be completely flooded by Peter’s rising energy and fury. She looks down to see her Master’s prized target gathering all of the strength he can muster into a single, massive orb of swirling purple-and-blue energy at least triple his size, held suspended by his sheer will alone.

Peter’s damaged right arm glows with furious internal light as small tongues of purple fire leap out of his various scars and cracks, enveloping him in a supernova of power. He thinks he hears Joel shout something, but he can’t make out what it is. His eyes start to glaze over with blue fire, but he manages to rip himself away from the brink of an Unleashing, forcing his power to drop to safer levels before he launches the massive psion orb into the air with a cry of effort, his gathering aura bursting away from him in a merciful release, blowing Joel far away and even managing to knock Sullivan and Maria back a few feet before they finally make landfall.

The Harbinger’s eyes go wide with excitement as she sees the immense orb rushing toward her. She can feel the sheer, raw power of the attack as it draws closer and closer with each moment, the overwhelming magnitude of the swirling mass of energy enough to make her feel faint. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” She exclaims joyfully, gathering her hands together to try and blast the orb apart with a beam of her own, when she suddenly notices something deeply wrong with the incoming projectile.

The orb starts to spasm and twitch, the swirls of purple-and-blue energy writhing around frantically, like many snakes eager to lash out and strike. The orb starts to destabilize, growing exponentially in size and strength before it reaches its full potential and explodes with the power of the sun, forming what looks like a second blue star in the sky as its full power blasts into the Harbinger’s armor, shattering it instantly and burning her wings off like they were made of paper. She lets out a scream of pain that gets smothered by the explosive energy of the blast as it fully engulfs her in its final moments before fully evaporating, leaving only sparks of power and her immensely damaged body in its wake.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

As the Harbinger starts to plummet to the ground, Peter collapses to his knees, shouting in agony as his psyche continues to release excess energy through his right arm. Purple flames burst from his many wounds, even spreading to some of his more minor injuries in his left arm and all over his body until he becomes a raging inferno of purple energy and heat. He writhes in agony for what feels like an eternity, trapped inside his own psyche, railing desperately against his rebellious mind in a useless effort to put a leash on the absolutely raging torrent of power and fury welling up within him. His only relief comes from a completely different kind of agony as what feels like an entire thunderstorm goes through every nerve and vein in his body, instantly silencing his mind and completely negating the dangerous buildup of power within him.

Joel removes the Psycho Scrambler from his best friend’s back, feeling the heat from the flames singe his body while the unbearable heat from the Scrambler melts his hand as the internal mechanisms of the device start to boil from overuse. He quickly clips the burning prototype onto his belt and rolls Peter so that he is facing upright. “P.K.? Talk to me, buddy,” he says worriedly. He looks over his shoulder to see a flicker of red light strike the ground as the Harbinger awakens just in time to save herself, battered and bloodied as she is, landing somewhat gently on her feet.

She staggers forward, her flaming aura warping and flickering in and out occasionally, her pristine robe left in tatters, revealing a simple, tarnished undershirt and pants beneath the regal exterior. Her once flawless features are now scarred and burned, much like Peter’s body, but the wild intensity in her eyes is still unchanged. “Don’t… Don’t tell me this is all you have?” She says through the pain, forcing her powers to rise once again, reforging her armor and drawing another scythe forward.

“Maria! We need cover!” Joel shouts, hoping beyond hope she knows what he means.

Thankfully, she does. Before the Harbinger can do anything, a massive swirling vortex of wind and sand swallows her whole as Maria slams the ground with both hands, using her telekinesis to whip up a violent sandstorm, completely blinding the Harbinger and pulling her into the wild torrent of whipping air. Unfazed by the sudden sandstorm, the Harbinger tries to break free, only to find Sullivan on the other end, waiting for her to escape. With a single, mighty blow he launches her back into the storm, darting around to the opposite end of the vortex and striking her again, then again, then again, pummeling her back and forth through the storm dozens of times over, creating a blinding net of furious green streaks as he constantly zips from one side of the storm to another, boxing their enemy in completely.

Joel turns his attention back to Peter, shaking him to try and get him awake again. “P.K.! Peter! Wake up, please!” Horrified that he might have killed his friend trying to save him, Joel presses his ear against Peter’s chest, desperately listening for a heartbeat or a breath or anything at all that would imply he is still alive.

Mercifully, he can feel Peter’s chest slowly rise and fall with labored breaths that steadily grow more rapid and ragged as Peter regains consciousness. With a groan and a smokey cough, Peter lifts himself up so that he is sitting, using his left arm to support himself while his right dangles uselessly over Joel’s shoulder. “Joel…?” Peter says groggily as he slowly opens his eyes against the painfully bright sunlight.

“Oh, Peter!” Joel exclaims, wrapping his best friend in a tight hug, relieved that he’s still alive, if not entirely okay. “Thank god you’re alive!”

“I— Yeah, I’m fine,” Peter says, though his utterly destroyed voice and limp body scream otherwise. “Is… Is it over?” Peter looks up to see a sandstorm and Sullivan running circles around it, striking something with seismic force rapidly.

“No, she’s still kicking,” Joel growls, patting the Psycho Scrambler, pissed that it’s still overheating. “Lousy piece of junk,” he mutters, wishing he had more time to properly refine the device before using it so strenuously again. Shaking his head wearily, he turns his attention back to Peter. “Can you stand?”

“Yes,” Peter says confidently, though he doesn’t know for certain. With Joel’s help, and a small boost of resurging power as the effects of the Scrambler start to wear off, Peter manages to get back onto his feet and eventually manages to stand under his own strength, though only just. Peter shakes his aching head and slowly starts to move his horribly scarred right arm, eventually regaining his strength as his psyche completely recovers from Joel’s last second save, pumping a fresh and alarmingly potent surge of power through his shredded veins and fried nerves, jolting him completely awake and forming a small surge of light through the bleeding gashes on his body. “What’s…the plan…?” He asks through laborious breaths.

Joel shakes his head. “I don’t think there is one right now, man,” he says quietly. “Maria and Sullivan have her trapped for now, but…” He looks over to where Maria is, her entire body tensed up with profound stress and strain as she struggles to keep the sandstorm up.

She grunts in combined pain and exertion, the last vestiges of her strength fleeing her mind, her concentration slowly breaking as she forces herself further and further beyond any limits she once thought she had. Her body starts to glow and burn with a golden, flaming aura, but the aura flickers and wanes as she approaches the upper limits of her psyche. “I…can’t…” She begins, splitting her focus just briefly enough to completely shatter her concentration. A small wave of golden light bursts out from her body as the last of her strength is exerted, her entire body crumpling from sheer fatigue.

The sandstorm she conjured slowly dies down, giving the Harbinger a clearer view of where Sullivan will appear next, allowing her to right herself, quickly recharge her armor, then fire a massive burst of power into Sullivan’s incoming body, blasting him away and allowing her to finally have a rest from his tireless onslaught. She stops her uncontrolled flight dead in its tracks, once again summoning two massive wings of crimson energy and spreading them out wide, casting a menacingly red shadow over her tired and battered victims.

“Impressive, all of you,” she says with a smirk, her attention focused mainly on Peter, locking eyes with him as she continues. “You are much stronger than when we first met, and yet you still refuse to use your full power against me. How…infuriating.”

Peter takes a staggering step forward, brushing Joel behind him and aiming his left hand at the Harbinger, his fingers extended like a gun. “I only want you to stop this. If I don’t have to kill you, then I won’t. Whatever master you serve, whatever mission you have, it can’t be worth your life. Just stand down, and we can all walk away,” he says, knowing that this is a long shot, but that he has to take it. His body is too battered to handle a full Psion Cannon, and even if it could he doesn’t trust himself not to lose himself to the raging power looming within his psyche.

Still, he gets the answer he was expecting. The Harbinger starts laughing, slowly, softly, before her laugh turns into an uproarious cackle, any last hope that she could ever be reasoned with torn away with a simple sound. “You don’t understand, do you? My sole mission is to bring my Master his prize: you. There is nothing else I want or need in this world other than to please my Master, and his one desire is you and your power. So, please, help me make my Master happy. Show me your full power. Then and only then will this end.” She extends a hand and taunts Peter, beckoning him forward with a burned and broken grin.

Peter grimaces, knowing that this outcome was likely inevitable, but still hurt to be proven right. He looks around him, finding his friends scattered through the torched and ruined wastes. He sees Maria slowly pick herself up from the sand, awake and alive but clearly in no shape to fight. He sees Elyas’ still unconscious body lying limply on the ground where Sullivan had left him, relatively unharmed all things considered. Much further back he can see Sullivan limp forward, clearly eager to keep fighting but also clearly wary of this seemingly unstoppable foe. Finally, Peter looks behind him, seeing his best friend stare at him with a hopelessly blank expression, conveying so much through such an empty look.

They all tried their best. They all used their full strength, their full might, their full intellect in this battle, and it amounted to nothing. In the end, none of it matters, as the Harbinger still stands tall, beckoning Peter forward for one last stand, one final test of his power. A test that he will likely fail, in one way or another. Any further exertion on his part is likely to kill him, or at least leave him fully out of commission for god knows how long, and even then, the Harbinger is most likely strong enough to survive anything he could realistically throw at her.

His left hand goes limp, his fingers dropping from their gunner’s pose to a simple, beaten fist as he lowers his left arm, staring at his closed fist. “You want my full power?” Peter asks, preparing himself for what he must do. Before anyone can respond or realize what’s happening, Peter explodes forward, a burst of energy erupting from his right arm propelling him forward like a rocket, his left hand extended to grab onto the Harbinger. He crashes into her arm-first, sending them both flying backward, his hand splayed wide over her gut, flaming shades of blues and purples flowing from his injuries and through his eyes.

“Then take it!” Peter howls, fully relenting control of his psyche, allowing the storm of building energy to escape his mind and erupt through his arm, releasing a massive Psion Cannon through his left palm. The beam of raging purple light completely envelops the Harbinger, the ground below her, the area around her, and everything behind her for miles as the immense Cannon beam carves a gorge through the desert surface, leaving nothing but a burning inferno of purple flames in its wake.

Peter howls in pain as every drop of energy he has is poured through his left arm. The world around him goes blindingly bright as he Unleashes, his eyes fully engulfed in flames, his body cloaked in a rageful aura of blue-and-purple. Inside his head, Peter feels a strange sense of serenity, a feeling of complete and utter emptiness as the raging torrent of power that he had constantly been suppressing, negating, or reining in is finally allowed to exit his body and mind, leaving him with nothing but a haunting feeling of rest and peace, even as he rages against the Harbinger on the outside.

Peter continues howling in mindless fury as the massive Psion Cannon carves its way through the desert, completely destroying everything in its path, its sheer intensity refusing to be stopped as it disintegrates mile after mile of vast wastelands, towering plateaus, and cavernous canyons. The Harbinger lets out a scream as her protective energy field shatters before her, the small speck of crimson being consumed by the ravenous beam of vengeful purple consumes all in its wake, burning her body away just as it had her aura.

“Master, my work is complete!” She cries out in delirious joy, her words devoured by the Psion Cannon along with everything else. “I give to you your prize!”

Her useless last words fall on deaf ears as Peter’s full, untapped power continues to rage out of his body, destroying him from the inside as it grows hungrier and more frenzied with each passing second. The beam of purple starts to darken into a blacker shade as the seemingly infinite wellspring of power within his psyche starts to run dry and his body starts to break down from the overwhelming energy. Despite the pain and overwhelming urge from his body to stop before he dies, Peter can’t pull himself away from the strange inner feeling of soothing release, the blissful ignorance to the outside world as he revels in his internal calm.

The fire in his eyes starts to dim and flicker as what little of his psyche starts to wane and fade and his body starts to shut down. Somewhere in his subconscious, Peter knows that he is nearing death, but he still can’t pull himself back from the brink. His power refuses to be stopped now that he has allowed it to roam free, wild and untamed as it is. The whole world starts to turn to black as what little consciousness is left starts to die out, at once agonizingly painful and blissfully peaceful…

Then it all comes crashing down on him. The world snaps back into focus, the dark fire in his eyes instantly evaporating as a shower of yellow lightning envelops his body, shutting off his psyche in an instant and ending his Unleashed fury. As he comes back to reality, he can also feel the full weight of someone crashing into him at immense speed, then a brief flicker of green as that same weight spills over him and tumbles beyond him with a great crash. Peter is blown back several feet, coming to a skidding halt as the last effects of the Psycho Scrambler kick in.

His eyes struggle to adjust to the bright lights and burning purple fires all around him, and for a while, all he can make out is the massive, artificial gorge he’d carved out of the desert. Then, as he starts to regain control of his body, he slowly shifts his vision up to see Sullivan also reeling from the aftereffects of the Psycho Scrambler, though having a better time handling them than Peter is. “Sullivan…” Peter mutters hoarsely as he continues his slow sweep of the area behind him.

He can see Joel and Maria staring at him in sheer awe, and just behind them, he can vaguely make out Elyas’ form slowly rising as he finally comes to and takes in the sheer destruction left in Peter’s wake. His eyes go wide and his jaw drops in combined shock and fear as he takes in the sight of the lingering purple fires, the giant canyon, Peter’s horribly torn and mangled arms, everything, all at once. The two men lock eyes for a brief moment, sharing some kind of mutual feeling of completion and relief.

Peter takes one last moment to shift his gaze back over to the canyon, looking sadly into the massive gorge as a small scrap of white cloth lazily drifts down into the abyss, only to catch fire and burn up in purple smoke, one last fleeting reminder of the Harbinger. “I’m sorry it had to end like this…” Peter says softly, trying and failing to stand up, his arms both too damaged to handle his weight and his body too weak to move. He instead chooses to lie in the sand, grateful for what small moments of peace and rest he knows he will have until the effects of the Psycho Scrambler wear off.

All around him, everyone takes a brief moment to let out a collective sigh of relief, grateful to finally be done with their chase, to have finally brought an end to the chaos and destruction the Harbinger and her minions had—

A sudden wave of terror and pain washes over everyone in the area, including Joel, who looks around in complete horror as the strange sensation completely envelops his mind, forcing his gaze upward to find some large, monstrous form of mangled metal slowly hove into view, fully blocking out the sun and casting the immediate area into an unnatural darkness. A small hatch opens up on the underside of the bizarrely insectoid object, revealing a burning magenta light within, an aura so powerful and so imposing that it seems to crush everyone nearby with its sheer force of presence. Then, the shimmering aura drops from the opening, plummeting into the canyon with such force that it erupts into a massive dust cloud, instantly putting out the lingering fires from Peter’s last-ditch attack and blowing everyone back a few feet.

The shining magenta flames break through the sandstorm, silhouetting someone as they rise from the deep canyon, slowly and with dark intent. A strange hand thrusts its way through the dust, wiping away the entire cloud with a single flick of two crooked fingers, revealing a monstrous form behind the veil. [We meet again. At last,] his voice intones darkly through everyone’s minds as he speaks directly into them, never uttering a single word. He slowly hovers forward until he is completely out of the canyon, then he drops to the ground with a soft thud and a quick puff of sand.

For a while, everyone simply stares at the monstrosity before them in complete disbelief. His skin is shock white, save for some small patches of light gray around his elbows and chest that form strangely beautiful patterns on his lithe yet muscular body. His long, lustrous mane of purple hair billows in the wind behind him like a cape, glinting in the sunlight with dazzling brilliance. His hands and feet have four digits each, with two thumbs on either side of his palms or soles, each digit clawed with razor-sharp talons. Three long, snakelike tails spread out from his waist, swirling idly behind him as he examines his prey with his large, cold, soulless, infinitely deep eyes. Outside of those obsidian slates for eyes, his face is completely unadorned, not even having a nose or mouth.

Joel is the first to speak, his voice coming out like a frightened child’s. “Did anyone else hear him speak?” He asks with a tiny croak.

Maria’s eyes widen in horror as she slowly turns to look at her friend. “You… You can hear him, too?” Joel nods, his face looking fully haunted as he wrestles with the idea of a telepath capable of breaking through his psychic immunity.

“Dear god…” Peter mumbles, staring up at the Master with complete and utter terror, the ramifications of Joel’s words hitting him like a train. “Who… What in god’s name are you?”

The Master laughs, a single, deep, resonating sound that vibrates through everyone’s skulls like the rumble of an earthquake. [To many beings in this universe, I am a god. But you… You may call me Vega. In what brief moments you have left to live, that is.]

Peter continues to stare at Vega, completely lost for words until something pricks the back of his mind. “What do you mean, ‘we meet again’?”

Vega stares down at Peter, his face incapable of expressing confusion, yet somehow managing to get the feeling across by the way he holds his head and gazes at his prey. [You are not the one I was expecting…] He says with slow finality as he gets a better look at Peter’s face. [But your energy, your strength… Could you be…?] His eyes flash with recognition and understanding.

Elyas watches the entire scene play out in utter terror. Even his limited senses can feel the sheer strength and overwhelming force of will emanating from Vega. His aura, as unfocused and idly set up as it is, feels stronger and more intense than almost anything he’s ever felt before, almost as powerful as Peter’s fully Unleashed potential. He clenches his hands in desperation, the dawning realization of all of their dooms ripping through his heart like a knife. Peter is too injured to fight, Sullivan can’t match Vega’s sheer power, and Maria and Joel might as well not even be here for how outclassed they are. Elyas knows that even he is wildly outmatched, not even the third strongest in the area, but he also knows he’s the only one who can still fight after all of the chaos.

He clenches his jaw, charges his fiery black aura, summons two scythes behind him, then blasts forward at full speed, staring Vega down with wild determination glinting in his eyes.

“Elyas, don’t!” Sullivan shouts, though it’s too late.

Elyas is halted in his tracks by four tendrils of magenta lightning that pierce through his shoulders, gut, and forehead, instantly sucking what little reserves of energy he had away from him. Elyas screams in agony as his life is leached away from him, only to stop as the tendrils suddenly rip away from his body, leaving him floating limply in the air, suspended by Vega’s telekinesis.

[You’re energy isn’t worth consuming. You are weak. Begone from my sight.] Without any hesitation, Vega callously launches Elyas far into the distance, sending him careening off into a small mountain range to the south-west.

“Elyas!” Peter cries out, reaching out uselessly as his one-time friend hurtles off into the horizon.

[He is below your concern,] Vega says emotionlessly. [A being of your power shouldn’t be concerned with such weak distractions.]

Peter’s eyes flash with indignant fury. He plants his screaming hands into the sand, ignoring the searing pain from every ounce of his body as he forces himself to his feet, refusing to stay down and be forced to look up at this monster. As he stands, his knees begin to buckle under his own weight, begging for mercy and rest, but Peter forces himself to keep standing, letting his slowly returning power fuel his body as well as his psyche. “Is that why you’re here? To eliminate the ‘weak’?”

Vega regards Peter curiously, as if the question never occurred to him before. [This is about you, or rather, the one before you. His power and might… I have never met another being with strength equal to mine until the day we clashed. And now…] He moves forward slowly, staring Peter down with his soulless eyes until he is only a few feet away from his prize. [Now I stand before another rival. Your power is exactly the same as the one before you: immense, raw, untamed.]

[You must be his spawn.]

Peter staggers back at this, his jaw dropping in surprise. Behind him, Maria and Joel exchange incredulous looks before turning their gaze to Peter’s back. Peter’s hand shoots up reflexively to Marcus’ bandana, leaving small stains of blood on the old cloth from his fingertips. “You… You knew my dad? How did…?” His eyes slowly go wide as he starts to piece things together in his mind. “You were here ten years ago, weren’t you?”

[In your time, I suppose so. Your father—what did he call himself?] Vega pauses to think, turning his back to the others slightly, his three tails swishing idly in thought. [Marcus. Yes, his name was Marcus. Such a powerful being, if unrefined in his control. The only man to challenge me in centuries. I reveled in our battle, but in the end…] He turns back around, his body shimmering with a small magenta glow as he stares Peter dead in the eye. [I killed him with my bare hands.]

“You… You monster…” Peter grinds out, his psyche flaring up in response to his terror and rage, though not enough to even hold a candle to Vega’s sheer might.

Vega’s sinister laugh resonates through everyone’s skulls as he chuckles darkly to himself. [This isn’t the first time I’ve been called a monster, nor will it be the last. Lesser creatures always fear their gods. It’s simply natural to fear that which you have no hope of defeating.] He raises a hand lazily, gesturing toward Peter with four outstretched fingers. [So do what all prey animals do: run, hide, beg for your life. Or, accept your fate like an intelligent being and be still.]

Before Peter can react, four bolts of lightning flash toward him at immense speed, reaching out hungrily for their prey, only to be stopped by the giant form of an emerald green hand. “Peter, run!” Sullivan cries out, already getting up to rush Vega down, still keeping his life-draining tendrils of power back with his constructs. He bolts forward as soon as he gets to his feet, crashing into Vega’s immensely powerful aura with an explosion of green on magenta, though not moving his target an inch.

Vega simply stares back at Sullivan blankly, regarding this new threat with mild curiosity while Sullivan continues to struggle against the wall of burning power standing in the way of him and his enemy. [Intriguing,] Vega says slowly, before flicking Sullivan back with a single telekinetic blast, sending him sprawling out onto the sand at least thirty feet away.

With this brief moment of distraction, Peter turns to flee, but he is still too damaged to properly run, and every step he takes is accented with searing pain in his legs, screaming fire in his lungs, and pounding misery in his skull. He only manages to get a few feet away from Vega before he simply floats up and zips ahead of his prey, the tilt of his head clearly implying a wry smile even as he remains expressionless.

[So, you’ve chosen to be an animal. Disappointing,] he says, reaching out to strike again, only to have his lightning blocked by Maria’s steel orb, its metal frame drawing in and absorbing the electricity before it can reach Peter’s body. Then a hail of bullets come crashing into Vega’s aura, each one burning up and turning to ash the second they hit the field of power. Vega drops the devouring tendrils and turns his attention to Maria and Joel, giving Joel a particularly close up and down. [I sense no power from you. Strange… And you dare attack someone of my power with such primitive weaponry.] With a wave of his hand, Vega knocks the pistol out of Joel’s hand then summons Maria’s orb to his side, easily ripping it away from her grasp.

[How insulting,] he finishes, gesturing forward and sending the orb flying dead straight into Maria’s gut, the impact only barely softened as she manages to put up a telekinetic field just as it makes contact with her, reducing the damage but still sending her flying back. Joel has no such luck as Vega brings the orb flying back toward him, forcing him to dive for cover under the massive steel form, his side getting clipped as Vega alters its trajectory at the last second, sending him sprawling out onto the desert floor with a groan.

“Leave them alone!” Peter shouts, chucking a psion orb at Vega uselessly, missing the shot as his arm gives out on him, sending the attack spiraling away wildly into the distance. “I’m the one you want, right? Then leave them out of this!” Forcing his exhausted and damaged psyche to work with him, Peter summons more power into his hands, enveloping his loose fists in tarnished blue-and-black power, their glow and luster utterly washed out by Vega’s simple aura.

Vega turns to face Peter once again, admiring the young man’s tenacity, if not respecting him for it. [I’d prefer you didn’t push yourself too hard. I need you alive to consume your power. Your allies on the other hand…] He looks back at Joel and Maria lazily, raising a single finger and charging it up with burning energy. [Are expendable.]

“Expendable, huh?” Sullivan’s voice calls out a mere instant before a haymaker construct punch decks Vega in the shoulder, the massive fist of glowing green might actually managing to break through Vega’s protective aura and knock him back a little bit, certainly catching him by surprise. Before Vega can respond properly, Sullivan is already behind him, striking him with yet another devastating punch, then another from his left, then his front, then behind him again.

Vega scoffs and whips to his right, letting a blast of magenta fury explode from his finger, only to strike empty air and create a large explosion in the distance. Vega looks around in confusion, trying to get a lock of Sullivan’s energy, but he’s moving too fast and it seems like he’s everywhere all at once. Giant flashes of green light completely envelop Vega and everyone else as Sullivan makes his wild and erratic way around the desert, throwing the occasional cheap shot at Vega while simultaneously grabbing and dragging the others to safety a while away.

“I don’t know who you are, but you clearly don’t know what you’re dealing with,” Sullivan announces as he rushes Joel to Peter and Maria’s side, safely out of the way of the ensuing clash. Sullivan makes a few more rushing passes at Vega, running circles around the bizarre creature and leaving trails of burning emerald power in his wake with every pass.

Vega manages to tank the constant hits fairly well, but his aura is slowly starting to wear down with constant abuse, and he is constantly being thrown off balance by Sullivan’s seemingly endless passes and running strikes. [Such confidence,] he says slowly, closing his eyes and drawing forth a small fraction of his internal strength. [Yet it is unearned.] He releases a small yet highly concentrated blast of magenta energy all around himself, completely demolishing Sullivan’s construct and blowing him into the air, only for him to be grabbed by Vega’s telekinesis and thrust into the ground over and over again like a doll being thrashed around by a child, leaving massive craters with each impact, only his rapidly shattering Flash Blaze keeping him safe.

Just as Vega is about to finish Sullivan off with one last thrust into the ground, an explosion rocks off of his back, sending him tumbling forward and dropping Sullivan harmlessly to the ground. Before Vega can recover, three more explosions nail him from behind, forcing him to his knees. He whips around to see a fifth psion orb hurtling straight toward his face, which he simply stops by holding up a single finger and popping the energy blast like a soap bubble, forcing it to evaporate into tiny sparks. As Peter charges up and lobs another psion orb, Vega bursts to the side, dodging the attack and firing one of his own back, forcing Peter and the others to dive out of the way to avoid being vaporized by the thin beam of raging energy as it explodes into the ground behind them, leaving a five-foot wide gap in the ground.

As Peter and the others take a quick second to recover, he notices something metallic flash in the distance, a strange shape he knows all too well. “Joel,” he says urgently, thrusting his head toward the Psycho Scrambler as it rests in the sand, glinting invitingly in the blue sunlight.

“On it,” Joel says with a brief nod, turning his focus to Maria. “Can you make a cover for me?”

Maria locks eyes with Joel for a second, knowing what he’s asking and not sure if she wants to comply with this clearly doomed plan or not. “You know I can,” she finally says, deciding to trust her friend. “Peter, keep that creep distracted,” she says, closing her eyes and letting out deep breaths as she starts to gather her focus.

“Let’s do this,” Peter says with a brief flash of hesitation, reaching for his bandana as if he could somehow summon his father’s strength and courage just by simply touching the old heirloom. He tightens his fist around the fraying cloth, closing his eyes and gathering himself for a quick moment before his eyes snap open, a small flash of blue light flickering out from his pupils as he runs forward, psion orbs in each hand, pushing himself to move despite the unending pain in his entire body. “Sullivan! With me!” He shouts, tossing both orbs just slightly to Vega’s sides, boxing the monster in with two well-timed explosions, forcing him to take Sullivan’s punch head on.

Or, at least, that was the idea. Instead, Vega simply flies up above Sullivan’s attack, letting the two allies rush into each other and collapse to the ground, enjoying the chaotically frantic nature of their recovery as they scramble to get off of each other. [Are you going to keep playing games, or are you going to get serious?] He taunts as he hovers back to the surface, his hands held behind his back regally. His eyes glint with an inner magenta shine, and suddenly two large beams of explosive force erupt from them, flying straight toward Peter.

Sullivan puts Peter behind himself and extends both hands, generating a swarm of constructs to catch the two eye beams. As the two energies collide, Sullivan is shoved back by the sheer force of Vega’s power, but he manages to keep standing, planting himself firmly in the ground and pressing against the incoming tidal wave of energy, keeping himself and Peter safe. While Vega is preoccupied, Peter begins charging a large psion orb, pouring as much power as he can muster into the roiling sphere of energy, allowing it to grow until it’s about as big as him. Then he spins around and lobs the sphere into the air. Vega stops his eye beam assault to look up at the relatively meager attack as it begins its lumbering descent, clearly unimpressed. He stretches a lazy finger out to destroy the orb, only to be blown back as it suddenly explodes in midair as Peter fires a small blast into the orb, destabilizing it and causing it to erupt.

Vega uses his tails to catch himself as he crashes back down to the surface, only to be met with a massive fist construct barreling at him at sonic speeds, clashing with his aura and blasting him into the ground. Lying flat on his back in the center of a massive crater, Vega looks up to see a flash of green leap into the air, then a veritable swarm of fists raining down on him like hail as Sullivan throws punch after punch into the monster, intending to pulverize him completely. Vega places a hand out to form a shield of plasmic energy around himself, keeping him safe for a little while as the unending flurry of blows continues to wail against him. The shield quickly starts to crack against Sullivan’s furious assault as each strike buries Vega deeper and deeper into the crust of the planet, but all Vega can feel is the sudden rising surge of all-too-familiar power emanating from his prize.

“Sullivan!” Peter’s voice calls out from beyond the crater. “Spike it!”

The unceasing flurry of punches suddenly stops, giving Vega just enough time to see a truly immense psion orb rush into the sky, at least fifty feet around, swirling with pent up power and rage. Then, just as suddenly as it had arisen, the massive orb comes hurtling down toward Vega as Sullivan slams into it with two massive fists, spiking the orb to the ground. Vega gathers both hands together, gathering great strength before thrusting his arms out, firing a beam even larger than the psion orb, pushing it back high into the air before both energies explode from their clash.

As the massive eruption fills the sky, Vega bursts up from the ground, surrounded by a raging aura of pink-and-magenta fire, his expressionless eyes holding more glee than could ever be spoken. [I was right to select you,] he says simply to Peter as Sullivan comes crashing down to the ground, his Flash Blaze aura dimming as he flickers in and out of consciousness from the massive explosion he had barely dodged. [However, I may have underestimated your allies. I believe they will make fine meals of their own.] He floats out of the crater and hovers just inches above the ground, his eyes flashing menacingly.

His arm suddenly darts out, glowing with intense power as he holds something suspended in midair. The strangled form of Joel suddenly appears just to Vega’s side, emerging from a shimmering mirage of invisibility, his eyes bulging out, his arms forced back as he struggles to keep his grip on the Psycho Scrambler and his pistol. [If you intend to use illusions, at least make them convincing,] Vega announces to Maria, staring directly at her as her eyes snap open in fear.

“How?” She demands, grabbing her orb and darting forward, ready for battle.

Vega tosses Joel aside and goes to fire a beam into Maria, only to get caught in the gut by a powerful explosion of purplish-black flames as Peter thrusts a fiery fist into the monster’s torso, launching him into the air with a shout. “I told you to leave them alone! I’m the one you want, not them!”

He quickly gathers his hands together, forming a gun shape with his fingers and thrusting them up into the air. “Everyone, get behind me!” He screams, gathering immense power from his fully recovered psyche, causing his arms to flare up with intense flames of blue-and-purple. “Psion…” He begins as the others scatter behind him, desperate to get out of the way of the incoming blast.

“Cannon!” He releases another intense burst of power that roars up to Vega, clashing against his fiery aura with a rainbow of resonating sparks and energies.

[Adorable,] Vega mutters, pointing two fingers down and releasing a giant beam of his own, clashing with the Psion Cannon and pressing down on the beam with great pressure.

Peter struggles against the beam, pushing himself to release more energy without Unleashing, knowing that he likely won’t be able to survive another full power blast like that so soon. He sees the flames slowly spread over his eyes, he feels his mind begin to slip as more and more power swirls through his body and psyche, filling him with mindless rage.

He slams his eyes shut, forcing the rising tide of mindless energy down, managing to just barely focus through his Unleashed state, releasing his power with a single, mighty cry, his body enveloped in raging lightning and sparks, his eyes glowing an intense cyan as they snap open, glaring daggers at Vega through their clashing beams. His Psion Cannon rushes upward, growing massive in size and consuming Vega’s beam, nearly colliding with Vega’s aura before he clasps both of his hands together and releases his full power, strengthening his magenta beam enough that it manages to push back against Peter’s, both evenly matched.

Peter struggles to push more energy into his beam, desperate to end the clash, but his body screams at him to stop. His arms flare out in a roaring inferno of cyan, his legs cry out in protest as his knees buckle under the pressure of Vega’s beam. All the while, he can feel his focus slipping, the flames returning over his eyes, his psyche flaring up with wild rage. Accepting his defeat, Peter drops one of his hands and releases a mighty burst of power from it, propelling him away from Vega’s ravenous beam just before it crashes into the desert, boring a massive hole through the surface before he realizes that his prey has escaped.

As Peter tumbles across the sand, Vega rockets back down, kicking up a massive dust cloud as he lands just feet away from Peter’s limp, still flaming body. He stretches a hand out and fires his lightning into Peter, drawing out his energy and sapping it away. Peter howls in pain as he feels the tendrils of hungry electricity tear into his body and drain him dry. He tries to struggle against the lightning, but he finds he can’t move. His body refuses to cooperate, forcing him to lie there and take the pain, a gruesome death awaiting him.

Joel looks down at the Scrambler, gripping its still hot frame in anger. “You two get him off of P.K.. I’m gonna fix this hunk of junk.” He says, pulling a spare multi tool out of his belt and diving into a crater to cover his work. Sullivan and Maria don’t hesitate for a second, both rushing forward to strike at Vega.

“Forget about us?” Maria calls out, ripping chunks of stone, clouds of sand, and her steel orb and sending them crashing into Vega’s aura, striking him from every direction and blinding him.

Vega snaps his fingers and halts Maria’s assault with his telekinesis, only to see Sullivan rushing up to him, his fists enveloped in furious emerald power. Vega drops his life-sapping lightning and aims his other hand at Sullivan, ready to consume his energy instead, only for Sullivan to suddenly dart behind him and grab his central tail. Before Vega can react to this unexpected maneuver, Sullivan hefts him over his shoulder and slams him into the sand with his full might. Once, twice, three times he picks Vega up and smashes him into the ground, taking a brief moment after the third strike to grab Vega by the hair and drag him across the ground at rapid speed, scraping his face through a brutal stream of torn rock and sand before hefting him into the air and preparing a haymaker punch.

[Enough!] Vega shouts, releasing a burst of power that blows Sullivan back, letting him recover and prepare a massive, magenta orb in retaliation, only for a hailstorm of rubble to come crashing into him from every angle, breaking his focus and shattering his attack.

“I’m still here, you creep!” Maria shouts, flicking her wrist and sending another wave of rubble and steel into Vega’s back.

Vega draws himself up to his full height, allowing Maria’s useless onslaught to wail against his aura for a brief moment as he takes a menacing step forward, his eyes glinting with internal pink light. [Fall,] he commands simply, his voice echoing through her mind like a thunderclap.

Instantly, Maria’s body tenses up, her muscles suddenly freezing, her legs giving out and dropping her to the sand. Every piece of rubble and metal she was using to attack comes to a sudden halt in midair before they too drop, surrounding Vega in fallen stone and steel. “I— I can’t move!” Maria cries out in horror as she struggles to get back up, finding that her arms and legs simply won’t respond to her thoughts, as if her mind had been severed from her body.

Vega points a crooked finger at his defenseless prey, ready to destroy her, but Sullivan quickly darts in and saves her from Vega’s attack. Incensed by Sullivan’s constant interruptions, Vega fires blast after blast, tracking Sullivan as he darts back and forth through the desert, desperately trying to save Maria and avoid being fried himself.

“Maria, you gotta move!” Sullivan shouts over another explosion, dashing back only to find himself face to face with yet another blast of power.

“I can’t!” Maria screams back, her eyes wide in terror, her limbs limp and flailing as Sullivan keeps darting in and out of Vega’s beams.

“Yes, you can! It’s all in your head,” Sullivan answers with a firm voice.

Tired of this game, Vega drops his hand and stares intently at Sullivan. [Drop her,] he intones, causing Sullivan’s arms to immediately go limp, dropping Maria and sending the both of them tumbling across the desert. [Stay down. I’ll be back for you later,] Vega says with one last glint in his eye.

Sullivan tries to pick himself up, but it feels like he has the weight of five entire planets holding him down. “What in—?”

“All in my head, huh?” Maria says sarcastically from below Sullivan.

“I don’t wanna hear it right now,” Sullivan says through gritted teeth as he continues to struggle against the imagined weight crushing his body.

With everyone sufficiently dealt with, Vega turns back to his main target. He stalks up to Peter and holds a hand out, ready to strike him once more and finish consuming his vast energy. Then, out of nowhere, a trio of bullets rips through his wrist, tearing through his pale flesh with a brief splatter of plasmic purple liquid. Vega pulls his injured hand back in pain, whipping around to try and find where the bullets had come from, not sensing any energy around him at all. Another trio of bullets strike his tail, pockmarking it with holes and drawing another gasp of pain from Vega as he darts up into the air to scan the surface for his assailant.

“Down here, ugly,” Joel announces, lifting his pistol up and emptying a fresh chamber of bullets at Vega, who easily bats the metallic projectiles aside with a brush of his hand.

[Oh, please,] Vega says in dull annoyance. His eyes glint once again as he stares daggers at Joel. [Kill yourself.]

Peter’s eyes go wide. He whips his head up to look over to the crater Where Joel is hiding, seeing his best friend tense up slightly, seeing his eyes go just as wide. For a brief moment, Vega’s command continues to resonate through Joel’s mind, echoing through his thoughts, demanding his obedience. His wrist flinches as his body starts to instinctively react to Vega’s command, but just as soon as it started, the impulse stops, the voice echoing through his mind silencing suddenly, evaporating away thanks to the sheer internal fire of Joel’s immunity.

He smirks, eyeing Vega dangerously. “Sorry, punk. That ain’t gonna work on me.” He hefts the Psycho Scrambler slightly into the air, testing its weight before he leans back and chucks it with all of his might, using his index finger to trip the switch he had gimmicked into the device.

The Scrambler shudders and glows with thick, yellow lightning as the static generator within its frame starts to overload, the gimmick switch disabling its normal means of escape, forcing the energy to continue to build until it explodes like a grenade, releasing a massive wave of blue-and-yellow energy fifty feet across, enveloping everyone in its immense, psychic-negating bubble. While Peter, Maria, and Sullivan all shudder in pain from the familiar wave of numbing power, Vega goes stiff and plummets, clutching his skull in agony, writhing around even as he crashes back down to the surface, clearly trying to scream in pain but unable to now that his telepathy has been disabled.

With his psychic influence negated, Sullivan and Maria suddenly feel a rush of control return in their bodies, as if they had been watching the scene play out from outside of their minds and had finally been allowed back in. As soon as Sullivan feels the weight lifted from his back, he bolts up and rushes off. “Sorry, I’ll be right back,” he says to Maria as he runs full speed up to Vega, picking the now powerless creature up by the hair and decking him in the face where his nose should be, staggering him back and leaving him wide open for another strike, then another, then another.

Peter pulls himself up and darts forward to join Sullivan’s onslaught, picking up a jagged scrap of stone and using it as a blunt tool to bash against Vega’s back and tails, leaving scrapes of purplish ooze behind with each strike.

“No way I’m letting y’all have all the fun,” Maria growls as she gets up, runs to Vega’s side, and decks him in the temple, knocking him directly into Sullivan’s swift left hook, which leaves him open for a vicious stomp on the tail and a bash on the back of the head from Peter, knocking him forward into a one-two uppercut to the ‘jaw’ from Sullivan, leading into Maria pulling his hair and dragging his skull into the point of her knee before she punches him away into Peter’s awaiting scrap of stone, leaving another slash of purple on his ‘cheek’.

On and on the assault goes as the three hound Vega from all angles, striking him all over his body, leaving him cut and battered and bruised with each hit. Joel walks up to join the action, loading a fresh chamber of bullets into his pistol and aiming it for Vega’s face. “Get out of the way, I need a clean shot,” he says through gritted teeth, not wanting to shoot his friends in the process. Peter and the others take a slight step back, slowing their assault just briefly enough to allow Joel to fire.

And that is their fatal mistake. Instantly, Vega’s hands and tails shoot out, wrapping around his four target’s necks and hoisting them up, strangling the life out of them with his terrifyingly impressive physical strength. He holds Sullivan, Maria, and Joel by his tails, taking extra care to strangle Joel as harshly as he can for daring to depower and humiliate him so. With his left hand he holds Peter up, grasping his face and crushing down on it with brutal might as his psyche starts to warm up again, allowing him to engage his aura and protect himself from any potential bullets or punches from behind.

With a cold, furious fire burning in his eyes, Vega watches Peter thrash helplessly in his grip, bashing his arm uselessly, trying to pry his cold, merciless, clawed fingers off of his face and away from his neck, choking with each useless struggle. Peter’s eyes bulge, his face turns red, drips of blood run down his face as he stares in sheer mortal terror at Vega. Just as Vega is about to end it, Peter steels his resolve, calming his mind enough to glare at the monster before him with cold, determined eyes. And in this moment, this brief, hopeless moment, he looks exactly as Vega remembers Marcus looking before he died: brave, defiant, victorious.

[No. Not like this,] Vega whispers, though everyone can hear him. Without another word, he drops his victims, rising into the air as they sink to the ground, gasping for breath, just barely clinging to life. [Your power is great, but unrefined, unfocused,] Vega announces as he flies back into his insectoid vehicle, the hatch closing even as he says his final words.

[I will return in one year, to allow you all to hone your energies for my consumption. Do not disappoint me.]

With that, the hatch slams shut behind him and his ship rockets into the atmosphere with an unnatural whine, tearing through the skies until it suddenly blips out of view, gone into the vastness of the cosmos. As the last echoes of Vega’s departure sound throughout the desert, Peter and the others exchange horrified glances, a whirlwind of emotions, thoughts, pains, and ideas swirling between them all with just a single, hopeless look.

Gazing up into the sky, watching the beautiful sea of clouds blow peacefully through the air, Joel finally announces what everyone is thinking: “We’re scuffed.”