New Beginning 23: One for the Record Books

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Philote wrote

I travel through the expanse of darkness, melding through the planes in my search and expanding my senses to track down the cause of this calamity. When I finally find a source, I hunt it down in a handful of picoseconds, which may have well been an eternity in the hands of a reality bender when I find out that I have been misled.

Two twin trails join the first possibility. Each possessing the same mechanical essence as the first dead end. While they are outside of my initial senses, I abandon dedicating anymore focus on them to crack their secrets and return to the first quasar. I begin dismantling it, philote by philote, finding every strand of data that had made up the entirety of what it was. Philotes dedicated to recording the quasar's history, philotes for each x y and z value of the atoms present within the structure, and philotes dictating the quasar's relation to other beings. The final string of philotes I pull on and read how they have been twined together with the one who sent the signal.

With a new route in hand, I return to the Dark.

Prime slammed a heavy hand on her monitor, "Chronos' Cursed Keyboard! His psyche moved a picosecond faster than it took for me even to predict his prediction! SysOP, stronger measures are in order! On the double!"

Would you like to attempt a projection of his trail, to send a false signal entirely along the way?

"Of course not, you sycophantic spot of second-rate circuitry!" Prime barked, "I hadn't anticipated that it would be needed so soon, but then The Forum are rarely what one expects. Let's check the inventory of weapons I have prepared. Antimatter cannons...so passe...Black Hole Inhibitor...so blase...Uytaraopethicanthropskil'na Quantum War Hull...done...Hm. Let's see, I think there ought to be a protocol in here that might help. Ah, yes! SysOp, initiate Protocol 73UM35514N!"

Protocol 73UM35514N: Warps Battlemoon Prime into quantum state of constant futurity, allowing one to automatically surpass the speed of any and all pursuing entities.

"Yes, that shall suffice." Prime could almost pass for pleased, "Initiate!"

Initiating Protocol 73UM35514N aka Teumessian Protocol.

All over Battlemoon Prime, there was a subtle shivering, a meek and barely audible hum, as every inch of its surface coursed now into a hyperactive state. It was little more than a subtle tingle to even the hypersensitive and the psychic on board Battlemoon Prime, but there was no mistaking. Every computer and electronic and digital system had to adjust from the hyper-advanced state, every heart, every brain, every neural impulse, for what would be perceived by each crew member and passenger as only just the strangest déjà vu.

Even as Philote would traverse lightyears in mere instants, the Battlemoon was steadfastly ahead, always the same distance away, never growing nearer or farther. Prime arose from her console, and went out to view the speedy retreat for herself. The beauty of this small strategem was one of precious few that paid off with such an astonishing view.

[Philote]

I stop in space, the pursuit was pointless as the Battlemoon was staying at a fixed distance away while I was following the philotics trail through the black endless space. Mentally cycling through my options, I settle on a more energy conservative plan rather than overcoming the escape ability itself. I settle on one of my newer powers, gained from the "Dream Schematic".

It was an endless expanse, the missing bits between the ten elemental planes that I commanded. Dreams, illusions, the astral plane, the realm on the other side of mirrors. Everything that was the unrealized potential of a thought. It yearned to bring things in, to hold them, and fill its void, and for a moment I would let it.

The space of our dimension began to be sucked within the dream schematic, like a flood being swallowed by an ocean. Eventually the space would be erased away, reduced to a distance dream. With it gone, I would be forced to make contact with the Battlemoon since there would no longer be space to separate us.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

As space drained away with all the overwhelming consistency of an ocean down an immense hungry abyss, Prime found herself gobsmacked. Even the Penultimate was rarely so doggedly persistent, and Prime had yet to reach optimal timing for the final stage of her plan to be put in order.

Needless to say, this simply would not do.

With the Cold-Walker, the Witch and the Songstress all busying themselves with futile flesh-bound accommodations, Prime would have to concede a most irksome strategic projection: if it weren't obvious before, it would have to be obvious at just that point that she was running. And she was not running due to some brilliant stratagem that would lead to her having the upper-hand. She was running scared: quite simply, the birthday boy was home long before anybody was in place to yell surprise.

Metal fingers clacked on the keyboard at Prime's console:

"SysOp?!"

Yes, Prime?

"Lower the Big Red Button."

The Button?

"Lower the Big Red Button, SysOp."

The IID?

"Yes, the IID, SysOp."

Soft electronic whirring stirred in the background, and a long rectangle panel descended from the ceiling. At the very end of it was a single big, round, shiny red button. She growled with contempt at the Philotic Master:

"Not just yet, Sir Philote."

Smashing her hand down on the big red button, the sloshing of tea could be heard above in the ceiling. All the whole of the Battlemoon began to hum and beep and clink and clank and whir, quickening into a frenzy. Untold units of space-time fluxed all about, rearing back the spatiotemporal ocean which had began influx into Philote's dreamspace. Sounds of electronic operation dropped off, only to be replaced with car horn beeping, duck quacks, cows' moos, jackhammer drilling, moans of erotic ecstasy, a church choir, the flush of a toilet, an orchestra, and a foghorn.

A final sound erupted (like the popping of a balloon), and wherever Prime had gotten herself to within the depths of space, she was not there any longer. In a mere nothingth of a second, she was now perpendicular to the exact opposite side of that location, turned upside down, a few billion degrees to the right, and halfway-parallel-or-maybe-adjacent to hither, thither and yon.

To her, it seemed as though all the rest of the universe had just flickered out like the light of a candle. That was good enough for the time being, though. It just meant that her upgraded Infinite Improbability Drive had done its duty. Just to be safe, though, she initiated protocol to camouflage the Battlemoon again in a sheath of Tartarean Dark and synced phase. One never could be too careful about that sort of thing.

[The Mediocre Gatsby]

"Wait, a second. What exactly is the Miscreant Character, other than some...thing that just scratched up my new baby and tried to kill everyone. I designed the Battle Bike to take on the creatures that are invading. Things that aren't used to light or heat, not some... Miscreant, so called, that considers itself on par with Cthulu!" Nano said, still reeling over the fact that his new ride had a nice scratch along the side

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Bounding down the hall with the grace of ninja, and faces fierce like African warriors, the servants tended to every door with expert precision. Nikolai tapped into every hidden door, every secret passage, every hidden panel he could get his hands on, and Brutus and Zei and the rest did the same.

Along the way, Zei would find  Wise and Sapient first, the Penultimate's cartoon cat and dog, each of whom was now armed to the teeth with an assortment of weapons and tools disguised as childlike novelties. The two of them followed the old man down another corridor to seek out the Kitty of Doom, the Slog, the Quog, the Grymiss and the Grynn, and any others which might be summoned up for the Master's worthy service.

Down the hall, Terryffinda made it to the first armory before anyone else, and signaled distress with the Perincessai. At the signal, the suits of armor mobilized, and saluted. The armor of Samurai, and Knights, and Dwarven rebels, and Elfin vassals, and great African war-kings, of Atlantean royals, all took arms. The sacred habits of alien high priests and martyrs and monks all gathered, on alert. Every suit among them followed the head maid at tightest attention.

Dyndron found the first playroom before the others, and raised Tereiein for all to see. With that, the toys stirred into a warlike uproar, and they, too, took up arms, to follow the lead of the one who besought them. Lego minifigures, toy soldiers, dolls, teddy bears, cartoon character statues great and small, all climbed from within their cases and out of their chests, and off of their shelves. They laughed and chattered and cheered among themselves, in English or Elfin or Celadonian, murmuring and whispering of Master Penultimate's honor and the glory of war.

Brutus turned roundabout and brandished Babaraina before the hallway full of statues and portraits. There was a moment's pause, before each and every one of them acknowledged their superior officer. The statues moved from perfect and picturesque stillness, and the portraits gave up the subjects housed within them. There now stood a mob of angry and belligerent simulacra, all hoping they would get the first shot at the approaching Niflheimr and Tartarean menace.

And Nikolai set up just about every trap he knew to set. He knocked at every loose floorboard, tapped on every candy dish, and uncapped every jar, bowl, pot and canister. Disembodied hands swarmed out of one of the floorboards like so many huge spiders. Three of the candy dishes contained miniature civilizations, and their best and brightest were now set on alert. Tipping the canisters would open the door to several cages, including but not exclusive to a zombie horde, a strange and curious slime of unknown (or unknowable) origin, a pterodactyl nest, a collection of ill-tempered musical instruments, a mated duo of very overprotective T-Rex and a brood of well-trained dragons.

Another step on another certain floorboard would release the safety to any door in the house, containing a void, abyss or dimensional vortex. To be absolutely sure, Nikolai passed out rolls of sutras to every one of the servants. The lot of them were cast out, and stuck into the floors, walls and ceiling, like so many enemy-targeted mines.

Brutus nudged Nikolai in the ribs, and the two exchanged a sly grin.

The trudging footsteps of the Tartareans and the Niflmonsters could be heard, fast approaching. The last sutra was set, when the first of the beasts appeared.

With Nikolai and Brutus leading the charge, it was time for the festivities to begin.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Without even taking time to look over her shoulder, Computress' answer to Nano was blunt and plain.

"The Miscreant is one of a race that possess an intimate connection to the element of Earth. The intimate details of his history need not be detailed at this very moment. All that you need to know, is that he was once called the Marvelous Miscreant, and not without good cause. He possesses prodigious skill and power. And until now, he has more than carried his weight in the pursuit of justice and goodness at the Penultimate's side. He has been an invaluable ally. It truly is a shame that he must be put down, especially in such an ignominious manner."

There was silence within the group for a short moment--Reggie's teammates, Copycat and Mirage, exchanged worried glances--but then Techne piped up.

"But, hey, them's the breaks, huh?" she pulled a device out of her overall pocket, that could have been some form of a grenade, "So, Computress, are you picking up anything? Any signs of his specific energy signature?"

"Not yet."

The Tech Elf shook her head, and turned attention back to the scanner on her wrist.

In hopes of filling the awkward silence, Mirage brushed a tress of hair behind her ear, and addressed Nano.

"Well, that little mini-bio for the Miscreant was encouraging and all--what with being a powerhouse on par with the reality-bending ruler of this planet" she started, "--but if you guys don't mind, how's about we take a little detour from that train of thought? Like you, new kid. Earth is in the middle of an invasion right now, but what about once we've saved the day? You got a family, some friends and loved ones to go back to?"

[The Mediocre Gatsby]

Nano thought about Mirage's words. The Alpha Drive was slowly giving him back his memories, but aside from Tasha, Nano couldn't remember much in regards to family.

 "Well, there is someone back home on Earth. Her name is Tasha. She's amazing. She's Russian, and has hair the color of fire. She has a funny way of shape shifting though. Instead of morphing her own body and such, she uses these rubber masks to disguise herself, and changes her voice and whatnot. She's got powers too. She's got super speed. She runs so fast that she actually ignites the oxygen in the air around her arms and legs, making it look like she's on fire when she runs." Nano said, finding himself getting lost in Tasha. The more he thought about her, the more he longed for her.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

A shiver ran down Copycat's spine, and he replied to Nano.

"Man, I could use a power like that to mimic. I'm not normally the skittish type, but did you see those monsters?" he shook his head at the mere thought, "I'm gonna need them not to put their grubby mitts on me. Like, at all."

With a chuckle, Forecast quipped, "Hey, maybe you can channel that ballerina you mimicked years back. I saw her moves. You could do a mean pirouette, and kick all the butts."

"You're doggone right I could, Sparky." Copycat grinned, "Too bad you can't mimic yourself some game. I only met that ballerina cause you struck out..."

Scattered chuckles, and that was the end of that.

Rumbling became audible in the distance, and Cosmo gasped, "Should we be worried about that? I feel like we should be worried."

Holding up a hand, Computress attempted reassurance, "You should not be worried. So long as you keep your teleportation abilities at the ready. It might not kill him, but a starhop to your Dyson Sphere in outer space would, at least, remove the Miscreant as an immediate threat to the Manor and the rest of Celadon."

"Oh, lovely." Cosmo replied, "So, in case of emergency, I run toward the evil, hulking Miscreant, in order to touch him, and bring him into outer space with me, where the two of us will be alone. And no one will hear me scream. Gotcha."

To Cosmo's dismay, Computress could hardly say his assessment was mistaken. If all went according to plan, though, it would not come to that. It was all quite simple, really. Techne, Computress and the X-Fighters had their own specific offensive, defensive and supportive duties, but overall, they would just pummel him with everything they had. They would trip him up where they could, deceive him when possible, take advantage of any distraction or diversion available, and subdue him with minimal incident.

And if that were to fail...appropriate response would be administered. Severely.

[The Mediocre Gatsby]

 Nano felt the rumbling in the ground as well. He looked over towards the Battle Bike and gave it the mental command to shift into armor mode.

 The bike began to take itself apart and form the standard armor. The armor then started to form up around Nano once again, the scratch from the Miscreant still showing from earlier. As the helmet of the armor closed around Nano's head, Nano realized how powerful the MIscreant really was. Bending Reality? A literal being of Earth? He was sure that he could make it out alive.
 
 "But just in case..." Nano thought. He activated a camera in the suit and began recording a video message.

 "Hey, Tasha... it's Aaron. Listen, I'm fighting this guy, the Miscreant, they call him. He's strong, really strong. I don't know if I'm going to make it out of this one. If I do, then the first thing I'll be doing is seeing you. But if I don't." Nano said, pausing slightly, choking back tears. "If I don't, then I want you to know that I love you. So much. I love everything about you. I love all of your kinks and all of your quirks. I love the fact that you gave up a life of evil and decided to reform and be with me. I love you. So much."

 "Computer: Send to Earth. The Safehouse. Clearance Level: Mistress of Disguise."

 A small beep alerted Nano that his message had sent successfully.

[The Narrator]

Logic and Jabber continued to fight off rabbits. 

"Jabber you didn't finish your story, you stopped talking for weeks...  Why won't you just tell me what's happening?"

"Cool it Logic, it's not my fault that you don't remember what happened.  I'll make my way to the point.  Now, Narrator was in Wonderland...."

***************

"So," the March hate asked dipping his plate on tea, "this Pepsi makes the world taste better?  What kind of tea is that?" He inquired, taking a bite of the plate. 

"Well its actually a soda, but I thought you guys were gonna help me get out of here.  Aren't there some bejeweled shoes or a lamppost that can take me to my world?" Narrator asked. 

"Well once Hatter gets we can truly help you understand why you're here." The March Hare began.  He tapped on a tea kettle on the table. A small mouse peaked out.

"Door mouse, pull out the scroll."

"SUre thing," she said, as she retreated into the kettle.  PIngs and pangs issued out, as she returned with a roll of paper the size of a matchbook.

March Hare grabbed the paper, and a magnifying glass.

"There are two major prophecies here that involve those who are from beyond Wonder and Underland." he began.  "Alice came and defeated the Jabberwock on the Frabjous day, and on the corner edge of that paper, in a scribble that's barely unnoticable, there lies a prose about one who hails from new bears.  His mastery of loonacy, and all things unlogical is to not only save Wonderland, but all of existence."

Hatter arrived, holding a long wrapped object in his hands.  

"ANd you're to do it with this, the Vorpal Blade.  It is you, Derek, who is prophesied as the one able to wield the full verbal gospel that is the Vorpal Blade.  The prophesy drives all who read it mad, unless they're already there,"he winked at the March Hare with a smile. 

"We bestow to you this sword, to know that you will save our stories and..." Hatter stopped, his face becoming distraught.  

"Chesire, get him out of here now!" Hatter commanded, handing the sword to the young Narrator.

The smile once again appeared, as the cat, with its gleaming eyes, pounced towards Derek, and whisked him away.

A figure appeared in this distance.

"You must be mad to think you'll win sir, how about some tea?!" Hatter said throwing a barrage of kettles, cups, and menagerie  in the figure's direction. 

The young Narrator awoke in front of a mirror like screen that soon disappeared.  He was at the outskirts of his hometown.  A sign stood infront of him: "Welcome to New Bern--Home of the Bears"

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Having closed off every magical entryway in Celadon, the Penultimate was sure now, at least, that there would be no spread of this supernatural invasion to other lands, nor would any more unnecessary surprises come forth from those other lands to Celadon. That left the issue of dealing with the slew of monsters that had already made their way in, from Niflheim and Tartarus.

His current situation was not what he might term a win, but he was getting there.

His shadow construct The Wulf was making its way this way and that, bounding all across the land to take down any monsters in its wake. At the Manor, the Kitty of Doom, the Quog, the Slog, the Grymiss and the Grynn were being released to wreak more havoc on Darkess and Tundra's forces.

The servants were on point, for the localized madness. Though, it remained to be seen, where had the Penultimate's allies taken off to? If nobody else was around for him to strategize with, he hoped, at least, to have the Narrator to talk to.

"Narrator?" the Penultimate stomped the ground, and a larger version of his sneaker came down from the sky to squash a horde of Niflmonsters that had grouped up a few hundred yards away, "I'm not sure where you are, but if you're not to busy, I'd like to run some ideas past you, that have been bothering me for some time."

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Hearing the words leave Nano's mouth, Techne winced. She tapped Computress on the shoulder.

"Hey", she whispered, "All that mushy stuff is killing me. It's a shame he doesn't know the truth. Do you think now is a good time to tell him?"

Not taking her eye off of the hallway that lay ahead, Computress replied, "There is no better time to come forth with the truth than now. If we allow him to play further on with the facade, he will return to her, and in the process, endanger himself, us and all else that the Forum holds dear."

That just about settled it. Though, there was no time for Techne to turn around and give Nano the ol' heart-to-heart. He would have to receive the news the old fashioned way.

>>Nano, look, we need to talk.

Out of courtesy to his personal privacy, and consideration for the urgency of the current situation, Techne would have to settle for breaking poor Nano's heart via text.

[The Mediocre Gatsby]

>>Okay, sure. What's up? A last minute battle tip before we get this party started?

[Celadon's Penultimate]

>>Well, um...In a way, yes. This can definitely help you get in the mood to take your anger out on something. See, the thing is, Tasha is not your girlfriend. She never has been. She was taking advantage of your amnesiac condition to use you for her own purposes. Simple cybernetic self-imposition into your fragile memory, to be more specific.

[The Narrator]

Narrator, feeling unusually distant, walks up to the shoe, and climbs the sneaker.  

"You know how to get my attention.  What's up?"

[The Mediocre Gatsby]

>>Uhhhh..... I don't think I follow. Care to be more specific?"

[Celadon's Penultimate]

"This attack feels weird." the Penultimate raised a hand, and a nearby mountain range gave way to avalanche the monsters settling on their bases below, "I get the general caravan of hateful, murderous monsters, but there's something here that doesn't seem right. A while back, I found 23 books. Each of them detailed our exact adventures as members of 'The Forum' ever since the New Beginning started. And the books were a complete set, as though the future was also laid out before us, too."

He gestured to the east and the west, wriggling his fingers, and three tornados descended from the skies to snatch up a band of monsters headed to attack a small village.

"To top it all off", the Penultimate continued, "the books were sent by Sister Siren, a villain that's currently working with Motherboard Prime, Darkess Faye and Tundra Cryos, the folks who are attacking us now. Can you think of a reason why we would be forewarned of an attack, by the very forces that are attacking us?"

While waiting for the Narrator's response, the Penultimate busied himself with earthquaking another lot of Tartareans and Niflmonsters to pieces. And when the earth had consumed them all, he would attend to others by turning their shadows into ravenous beasts that hungered for their flesh.

[The Narrator]

Resting on the shoe, the Narrator thought. 

"My mind is a little fuzzy, but were seem to be missing something for sure. I just can't get why someone would care about about us to do all of this...  If only I had more info on these villians. I say we take the fight to them.

--

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Techne sighed. This was going to be tougher than she feared.

>>Computress and I have been monitoring you for some time. That one you've been enamored with--Tasha--is an android, as you know, but she's not your girlfriend, and never has been. Her appearance, her personality, even her abilities, were all tailored to suit a profile you would admire and desire after. As a failsafe, she was even given the ability to shapeshift into other forms, to suit your--kinda sexist and polygamous--fancy. And by her good fortune, she found you after you were struck by a huge magic bus, and your memory was even worse than when you first arrived. Her touch was the method of implantation. A mere caress, and she implanted herself into some of your deepest fondest memories.It really is a shame she didn't give off indications to Professor Utonium and the Geniuses.

[The Narrator]

"I over heard your dilemma, and I think we should do some reconnaissance on these villians to see what they're truly planning, and throw a monkey wrench in their plans." Mr. Shanti suggested.

"Makes sense to me, what about you Penny..." Narrator asked.