Some say the world will end in Fire
Some say in Ice
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour Fire
But if I had to perish twice
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction Ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
—Robert Frost, Fire and Ice
There was dead silence throughout the entire universe as, one by one, the collective consciousness of all lifeforms began to sense something of tremendous importance happening beyond their scope of vision or comprehension. Reality itself was put under an immense strain as its tendrils and weavings began to shift and pull apart; stars at the very outermost edge of existence began to simultaneously go supernova, matter instantaneously converted itself into antimatter and vice versa, meteors and free-floating materials all throughout outer space began to inexplicably change trajectories, and the cores of various planets would suddenly disappear and alter gravity so much that planets would literally float away into limitless void. Chaos itself quickly encompassed everything—everything—and reigned ruthlessly. And standing at the center of it all stood the two young men responsible.
At the center and the end of creation exists a place called the Nexus, which until recently was believed to be a massive sphere of nothingness. But, on the other side of the pure blackness that comprises the Nexus's boundary, something is present: an enormous burnt out star called Meridian-Omega. For the past quarter century (of time measured on Earth), this lifeless rock had been completely empty, but much action had taken place here very recently. Standing at one pole, a beautiful construction called Sanctuary arose solemnly, built mere hours ago by the being called Ego. Hundreds of lifeless bodies littered the grounds outside Sanctuary, while five living but soulless bodies remained inside. Seated in a circle surrounding a tiny circular silver emblem, they were only an indirect cause of the chaos erupting all across the heavens. The direct causes had moved to the opposite side of Meridian-Omega, to a location as cold and empty as death itself.
Craig Hopwood stood in a defensive position, his fists balled tightly and ready to react, feet planted firmly on the hard ground, every nerve in his body itching to leap into action. A soft white light emanating from everywhere revealed his deepset scowl, a dangerous angry glare chiseled into a face hardened beyond any normal teenage boy. Bright blue eyes flickered with an inner fire, a burning hatred, a passion so consuming it had completely transformed him. Sweat lined his well-defined muscles, wetted his face, and matted down his light reddish-brown hair. He wore a sleeveless black t-shirt, tucked into a pair of blood red sweatpants, completed with sneakers, a belt around his waist, and a strap that ran diagonally across his chest and back that contained a sheathed sword.
Michael Tracer, standing no more than ten yards away, seemed much more confident and collected. He smiled quietly, but intensely malevolent. Dark brown eyes, set so deep they seemed as black as the void surrounding the two youths, contained no clue as to what demonic thoughts were circulating within his wicked mind. He was well groomed from top to bottom for this confrontation; his brown hair was parted down the center, he wore a leather jacket over a reflective bluish-silver buttoned up dress shirt, black slacks held up by a thin leather belt, and walking shoes. One of his hands was reaching forward, palm upward, silently beckoning his antagonist forward, while the other hung haphazardly behind him clutching the hilt of a bladeless sword. Around the forearm of the extended arm was a reflective silver device called the Pseudo Morpher—at this moment it time, the single most powerful and dangerous power supply in existence.
Without warning, Michael lunged forward, breaking into a fast but weak assault. His first punch swung wide and intentionally missed, as it was designed to draw his opponent's attention away, and the true attack came in the form of a side kick aimed for the abdomen. It was an amateur move, and Craig easy avoided harm. Then, in response, he jumped up slightly and, using the greater gravity of the star, brought his cupped fists down directly on his enemy's back. Michael did not flinch, but instead reached up, grabbed Craig's arms, and hoisted him up and over, slamming him face-down onto the hard surface below and standing up still emotionless and collected.
"How disgusting," Tracer remarked coldly. "Your parents gave me a tougher battle than this before I killed them."
Suddenly the torrent came racing back. It always did. Visions and voices booming on the edges of his vision and the back of his mind, all blending over one another and increasing in intensity as they tried to overpower each other. A solid saturation of rage and retribution exploded deep within his heart, and it could be contained no longer. Five months of built up anger boiled up from the depths of his very soul, but it could have been five years or five centuries or five eternities for what it seemed.
"Michael!" Craig screamed violently. Pushing himself to his feet, he was suddenly engulfed in a storm of unrestrained power. There was no visible aura, but the air itself surrounding him became electrified with an immense amount of force. It was like a lightning bolt that assumed human form. His hair became a dark black color, and began to be blown in every direction by some invincible wind that had enrapt him. Those fluid blue eyes became solidified into raw crystal, an ocean instantly becoming an iceberg. The blood flowing through his arteries and veins began to pulse in rhythm with the heartbeat of the universe, as the timeless and magnificent power filled him. He reached out to seize it with his soul. The Black Hole energy was unleashed.
Lifting his hands, a gigantic ball of solid dark energy materialized before Craig, and he fired it off at a blinding speed directly at the cold-blooded killer. With a quick brush of his own hand, Michael deflected the power and it traveled harmlessly until it dissipated far away. "Yes," the Betrayer hissed, smiling drunkenly. "Hold nothing back. I want to crush you at your highest power, so the universe knows its new god has no equal."
"New god?" repeated Craig, smiling himself. "You've got to be kidding. You're no god. You're Michael Tracer—a disloyal, heartless, lonely, immature, and unloved puppet, created and pampered by Arcanza until you began to delude yourself into thinking you were something more than you really are."
Michael's face grew significantly darker, and he screamed, "Pseudo Morph!" Bright silver energy began to flood the entire area, spreading out from the device attached around his forearm. A sound like a million claps of thunder compressed into a single boom accompanied the flash. A dropped nuclear bomb paled in comparison to the sensation of fear and death that instantly penetrated the air. When Craig regained his sight, Michael Tracer was wearing the gray-shaded armor of the Pseudo Ranger, sans the helmet. "As of right now, this crumbling existence belongs to the Trinity of Darkness."
Quickly, while he was engaged in talking, Craig launched himself forward, propelled by the supplemental strength and speed his power source provided him with, and executed a series of seven powerful kicks against Michael's chest, but the effort only knocked him back a few steps. The Betrayer never lost his footing, and returned the offensive with one of his own, kneeing Craig directly in the crotch.
Coughing up a bubble of blood, Craig fell to his knees and clenched his teeth to avoid screaming wildly in sheer pain. "While you're down there, you might as well begin praying to me." Michael's devious smile showed his bright white teeth. "In return, you'll still die, but I'll make it faster and a little less painful."
His body was no longer moving tactically or strategically, it was fueled by pure emotion as Craig propelled himself up by placing both hands behind him on the ground and thrusting both feet directly up at Michael's face. The surprise hit connected and sent the darker youth flying several feet backwards before landing on his rear end. A bloodthirsty poker face immediately replaced that twisted grin. Catching some of the ethereal light surrounding them, the setting sun symbol of Twilight Legion sparkled as Michael slowly stood up, never taking his eyes from his adversary.
"Ego didn't get a soul from you, did he?" Craig shook his head disapprovingly, taking the opportunity to recollect his thoughts. "You didn't have one to take."
Michael sneered, and suddenly a circle of bright bluish flames began crawling up around his body, snaking along the sharp contours of his imitation Ranger armor. He held out his right hand and cried out, "Chillfire!" as he released a large fireball straight forward. With his enhanced agility, Craig darted out of the path quickly, but the flames doubled back around and began homing in on him. Following instinct, he leaped into the air and drew out enough of his energy to suspend himself above the ground. The Chillfire blast continued to track him. Drawing out even more Black Hole energy, he surrounded himself with a powerful barrier, then grabbed the flames with both his hands and caught them. They instantly exploded, but the strong protective barrier took most of the impact, leaving only a stinging sensation in Craig's hands that died away quickly.
Remaining in flight, Craig realized he was just asking to be a target for another projectile attack. He used his powers to teleport back to the surface, behind Michael, and grabbed his arms in his own, locking them tightly and immobilizing his opponent. Laughing quietly, Michael invoked another Pseudo Ranger power. "Shadow Numb!" Within seconds, Craig began losing feeling throughout his entire body. Normally, while he was using Black Hole, he was aware of everything, even the slightest little details, but now it was completely gone. As such, it did not hurt when Michael fiercely broke free of his hold and whirled around to punch him hard in the stomach, then kicking high to strike his face, and finally sweeping his other leg low to score a direct hit on both knees. Unable to control his own body, Craig collapsed again, this time without any way of counterstriking.
"This isn't even the full extent of my power." He sounded upset, but nothing about Michael was positive, his entire life had been one deceit and lie after another. "If you cannot handle the Pseudo Morpher energy, you don't have a chance when I begin using the energy I got from Meridian-Omega."
Using both hands he brushed dust off his pants and rubbed the stinging pain out of his legs before calling forth enough strength to stand up without wobbling. "You're in for a surprise too, Tracer," Craig warned, emptying his voice. "I too have barely skimmed the surface of what the Black Hole force is capable of." And with that warning, suddenly the entire known world to Craig when spiraling out of control. Colors began to invert, sights turned into sounds, his raw anger began to manifest itself as a bottomless fiery pit inside him, like the fury of hell itself rising up to consume his soul. He quit breathing altogether then, just as suddenly as everything had gone crazy, it slammed back into place, and everything was crystal clear. Black Hole was now fully integrated into his body, and he could feel the sickening touch of the Eternal Demon itself burrowing into his mind. With a vengeful scream, he charged forward, an aura of immense power surrounding him from head to toe.
A single uppercut sent Michael sailing into the air, and even before the traitor could react, Craig was above him, his fists interlocked and slamming into his opponent's gut. As Tracer fell, the wielder of Black Hole teleported underneath him and fired a bombardment of several dark matter blasts, one after the other, juggling him in the air, and finally allowed him to fall directly into upraised hands. With a heavy grunt, Craig slammed Michael headfirst into the ground.
Sometime before that happened, though, the helmet of the Pseudo Ranger had materialized around Michael's head, and he was protected from the killing blow. The Pseudo Ranger stood up casually after the assault was finished and popped the helmet off once more. He must have desperately wanted Craig to be reminded of who he was fighting. "I forgot!" gasped Michael. "Forgot to tell you that I kissed your pretty little mother. Kissed her, right before I stabbed her in the heart and killed her." He smiled, the toothy grin of the devil again, and fired a beam of energy at the ground below Craig. "I'll kill your friends, too, after I finish with you." Another blast destroyed more of the solid ground underneath him. "Including your ignorant little twin sister, who I bet is a great kisser as well. I'll have to find out for myself." A final discharge achieved the desired result, tripped Craig and throwing off his balance.
Acting quick, Craig jumped into the air and suspended himself above the crumbling terrain. Throwing his head back, he screamed loudly, a disturbing image of the sociopath's lips pressed against his adoptive mother's trickling through the synapses of his thoughts, then rocketed toward Michael with his foot extended with the desire to land a very fast and very powerful kick. Laughing, Michael grabbed his leg mere inches before the blow would have collided and threw Craig helplessly in the opposite direction. "Chillfire!" Michael called, and blue flames were instantly engulfing his enemy's entire exposed body.
Using Black Hole to increase his speed beyond possibility, Craig casually blew out the conflagration before it consumed him. He landed on both feet and instantly turned back, staring over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off of Michael. The entire area around them was beginning to stir and heat up. Vaguely, there was a sense of something powerful building up directly below.
"Now," Craig said quietly. With the aid of his power, though, his single word was magnified and crystal clear to his adversary.
Michael snorted out his nostrils, a quick sound easily picked up by enhanced hearing. "Now what?" the unmasked Pseudo Ranger demanded.
For the first time during this battle, the prominent sickening smile was now plastered on Craig's face. "I'm ready to kill you." With a smooth motion, he reached behind and grabbed the handle of his weapon with his right hand, slowly drawing the blade out of its sheath. An enormous crash of thunder accompanied the removal of the ancient weapon, and suddenly the crystalline stare Craig wore erupted with flashes of lightning. In his hand, Cataclysm Vein pulsed with power, a brilliant red aura surrounding the permanently active Lifeblade.
"You delusional, pompous asshole," laughed Michael. Instantly the blue energy of his own Lifeblade sprang to life in anticipation of any attack directed at him. "You're the one who's going to die, and I've made that very clear already. I even feel the ground below us ready to split apart and serve as your eternal grave."
It was Michael who rushed forward first this time, and swung the blue beam high in the hopes of decapitating his prey quickly, but with a heavy grunt Craig parried the attack and forced the weapon down and to the side so it missed him completely. Conjuring another facet of his still non-understood power, Craig created a powerful lightning bolt comprised of dark matter and raw energy that crashed down directly onto Michael, electrocuting him. The counterattack was quickly brushed off, though, as Michael, unhurt, fluidly moved into another strike of his own.
Each time the Lifeblade and Cataclysm Vein came in contact with one another, explosions of violet-tinged light rocketed in every direction. Michael's expression never changed, a hawk-like stare encompassing the other youth looking for any opportunity to assault in a new method. Conversely, Craig constantly winced or clenched his teeth as he struggled on three different battlefronts at the same time. First, and most importantly, the fight against Michael itself was taking a tremendous toll. Second, it was a relentless struggle to keep a hold of and control over the torrent of Black Hole powers bursting within him. And finally, since he had drawn Cataclysm Vein, an unexplainable and unquenchable bloodlust had begun to consume him and, he feared, even if it was his best friend opposite him now, he would not hesitate to plunge the weapon into his throat. His mind throbbed with a dull ache, and his soul felt like it was being torn to pieces.
Using a graceful attack with the Lifeblade, enabled by the fact he hovered several inches above the surface, Michael knocked Cataclysm Vein out of Craig's hand and sent it flying far in a perpendicular direction. Now weaponless, Craig braced himself for an even more despondent battle against his nemesis. Michael laughed as he drew the energy-formed blue blade back quickly then thrust it forward even faster with the intent to impale its target. Enraged, Craig somehow reached out and grabbed the ethereal sword with his physical hand, and the sonic boom that accompanied the action was followed by an explosion of dark power. Pulling back from the outburst, Michael frowned as he stared at his empty hand, his weapon sucked into a miniature black hole and utterly destroyed.
"Doesn't matter," the Betrayer muttered, remissive. "The power of Meridian-Omega, the essence of the universe itself, flows through me." He lifted the Pseudo Morpher for Craig to see in a taunting and goading manner.
Underneath his feet, Craig felt the burnt out star heaving, as if it were under a tremendous strain. He had no choice but to ignore the feeling once more, and focused instead on unleashing a rapid-fire series of energy shots, ending with a gigantic explosion that rivaled the destructive force of an atomic bomb. Just fractions of a second before the detonation, Craig created a barrier using Black Hole to protect himself from being killed by his own attack. He flew at high speed until he was able to see the mushroom cloud that he was responsible for creating.
Before he got the chance to wonder if his enemy was dead, Michael appeared before him, but blurry and out of focus, yet the punches and kicks the devilish youth threw each connected with a solid and forceful force. Craig felt blood spilling out of his body onto several patches of his skin, until he was able to reclaim his own thought process and begin blocking and countering the incessant strikes. Now, both fighters were at least a half mile above the cold surface below, and the ever-present light only reached enough to see shadows and quick glimpses.
"I don't know," Craig panted, simultaneously throwing up barriers to block Michael's superhuman punches, "what I did...to make you...hate me..."
"You took away everyone and everything of value to me," snarled Michael, "and I made a decision to do the same to you. Killing you is my lot in life now!"
Lifting his hand, Michael instantaneously created an intensely bright ball of raw power and discharged it without hesitation. It collided within seconds, but not with Craig, with another gigantic accumulation of power, the lightless and concentrated force of Black Hole. The resulting explosion drowned out all other sight and sound.
Slowly, the roar faded from his ears, and Craig struggled to rub the dust and afterimage out of his eyes so he would be able to see again. The taste in his mouth was blood and dirt, and he was glad there was no mirror around to see himself in. No wind on the star meant the debris would never clear without assistance, so Craig summoned enough power to create his own cold wind and clear the area. It was difficult to do, which either meant he was at the point of exhaustion or he was taxing the uppermost limits of Black Hole.
He realized he was standing close to the outer edge of a massive crater, whose epicenter extended so far down there was only shadow and darkness visible from where he stood. Something sparkled in his peripheral vision and Craig whirled around, ready to re-engage in battle, but instead he breathed a sigh of relief. It was only Cataclysm Vein, the red blade buried halfway into the surface of Meridian-Omega; as he clutched the handle and withdrew it from its resting place, the blade began to glow once more.
"Rest in peace, Tracer," Craig whispered. He grinned, climbing to the top of the crater, using the ancient sword to help him, victorious. "It's over."
"Yes!" a deep, screaming, murderous voice cut through the unsettling silence. "It's over...for you!" Michael emerged from the center of the crater, moving at speeds that Craig was too weak to follow, and unleashed hundreds of bursts of bluish Chillfire, several struck Craig and burned him in a different place each time they did. Then, suddenly, the bombardment stopped.
A dark, serious smile twisted the corners of Michael's mouth up as he stepped toward his tired opponent. The Betrayer held out both arms, his palms outward with his thumbs and forefingers touching, so he made a facsimile triangle inbetween them. Suddenly, Craig had the sensation that every molecule of existence was struggling to escape what it sensed was about to happen. He went light-headed and gave up trying to figure out what was going on. "The Destroyer's wrath. The Betrayer's corruption. The Resurrector's control. Together they open the gates to Hell and free the Eternal Demon once more." Craig recognized the evil prayer from his time disguised as a Twilight Legionnaire. Time itself stopped cold as Michael Tracer screamed, "Trinity Critical!"
He knew that attack meant certain demise, and Craig began to make peace with God at the same time he braced himself for the end. A tremendous pressure began to build up within him and, suddenly, it felt like he was exploding and imploding, turning inside out, over and over and over, each time taking him to the edge of death then pulling him back ever so slightly. Breathing became a struggle, his body made several involuntary movements, and thinking for himself became impossible. Finally, he recognized that he was curling up into a fetal position, unconsciously preparing to leave this life the same way he was brought into it. Michael had finally won.
"At last," whispered Tracer, a hint of bliss blended in his tone.
The voice triggered something inside Craig. Again. Mental and physical strength began seeping into him from every direction, and his vision was flooded with shadows and translucent memories. His mother, Joyce Hopwood, standing inbetween two men, one familiar and one infamous. Leonard Hopwood nodded firmly, concentration and determination set deep into his face. Abner Donaldson held out his right hand, beckoning his biological son to stand and fight again. The three ghosts faded as quickly as they appeared.
"Stand up." It was Cecil's voice, sharp and soothing at the same time.
"Keep your eyes open." Brittany sounded sad and lost but retained her wisdom.
"Fight for us." The cheer sounded natural coming from Rebecca, a cheerleader.
"Do not give up." Even in hallucination Bane's tone was cold-hearted and harsh.
"I believe in you." Amber's warmth and intensity was prevalent in her whisper.
The supply of Black Hole was exhausted, but somehow energy was recirculating back into him from some other source. Trinity Critical continued to push him to the edge of dying, but each time it did now he was restored to beyond maximum strength. A bewildered look on Michael's face was priceless, as the Betrayer slowly began drawing backward and away.
Lightning and thunder were exploding in the sky, but Craig's final scream overpowered even the loud noise they were making so far high and above. Lifting Cataclysm Vein with both hands, Craig charged forward and, with all the speed and strength he could muster behind him, swung wide and fast.
To protect himself from losing his head, Michael lifted his arms to shield the attack, which proved to be a colossal mistake. Realizing what his opponent was doing, Craig changed his target in mid-attack and, instead of decapitating his hated enemy, he smashed Cataclysm Vein into the Pseudo Morpher around the Betrayer's forearm.
Chaos erupted all around. Raw liquid energy began gushing out from the shattered Morpher, splashing onto the surface of Meridian-Omega and turning into tongues of fire that lashing upward. The Ranger armor around Michael's body broke apart and vaporized into non-existence. Various lights, sounds, and other energy forms surrounded the two young men on every side as all the power accumulated within the dangerous Morpher escaped back onto the Central Star.
Enraged, and taking advantage of the torrent of confusion whirling around them, Michael slipped behind Craig and grabbed him, tightly locking him in place and disabling his ability to move. Even without Ranger powers, Michael was still inhumanly strong because of the pseudoine incorporated into his DNA. "You goddamn son of a bitch!" Tracer screamed wildly, straight into Craig's ear. "I'll tear your head off! You are dead!"
Craig smiled quietly and calmly. From disturbingly close behind, Tracer grabbed the front of Craig's head with one hand, the back of his head with the other hand, and tensed up in preparation to snap his archenemy's neck and end his life. In the split second before he could fulfill his deadly plan, however, things took an unexpected turn. Craig had turned Cataclysm Vein around in his hands, the long blade still shining with red-tinged energy, and thrust it through his own chest; it exited through his back, then pierced the Betrayer's heart and exited again through Michael's back.
It happened in seconds, but those seconds seemed hours, as time drew itself out once more to alter perception yet again. The blade of Cataclysm Vein vanished of its own accord, and Craig stumbled forward off-balance at the same time Michael fell backward; the handle of the ancient sword burst aflame and melded into the massive stray energy flow building on the star's surface once more. Stunned beyond belief, Craig rubbed his chest slowly, expecting to feel a gaping hole but instead only flesh and the fast beating of the heart on the other side. He scanned the area for sight of his enemy.
Michael Tracer lay face-up on the cold ground, his dark eyes staring upward and without the slightest trace of life contained within them. A gaping hole was present directly in the middle of his chest, vile and tainted blood rushing out from the wound like flowing water. The liquefied energy of Meridian-Omega intentionally avoided the space around the Betrayer, leaving his corpse clearly visible.
"Why...?" whispered Craig, again checking himself for a suicidal chest wound identical to Michael's that should be there.
"God works in mysterious ways. You will know one day."
The voice startled him. He checked all around, but there was no sign of a speaker, and his mental acuity was too drained to wonder about it for too long. Another sound caught his attention and he turned back just in time to see the young murderer's body burst aflame.
It was over. At last, the final battle was finished. He smiled weakly as he attempted to teleport via the Black Hole power, but failed and remained standing in the middle of nowhere.
"I know you're there," he said faintly, addressing nothing in particular. "And I know you helped me defeat him. Thank you." He was light-headed and dizzy, but struggled bravely to maintain his composure and his footing as he sensed he was in the presence of something greater than him. Something endless and eternal. "I need one more favor," he begged. His vision started to go blurry and he did not need to feel the wetness on his face under his eyes to know what was happening. "Take me to my friends. Please."
For several moments after the plea, the entire place went calm and serene. The eruption of chaos that had seized the universe mere minutes ago was completely gone and replaced by heavenly stillness. All around Craig, the silvery flow of condensed stray energy whirled and drifted of its own accord. Endless blackness extended upward into a starless, moonless, object-less sky. For a split second, he felt utterly and truly alone, and then suddenly the energy of Meridian-Omega lifted up off the ground like a tidal wave. He braced himself to be engulfed. But then, as realization dawned, he gasped, "It was you?" seconds before he was plunged into an immense and expansive world of light and warmth.
Then, instantly, he was standing on a dais back in the reborn Sanctuary. Candles and torches flickered brightly, sending off a holy illumination that lit the entire cathedral with natural light. Dark red carpet spread out all across the floor and, upon feeling it underneath his toes, he realized with a start that his shoes had been burned away. In fact, most of his clothes were tattered and shredded, but this was no time for vanity or embarrassment. Large ivory pillars reached from the ground way up to the chapel ceiling, and in the center of them Craig's friends remained absolutely still.
Cecil, Rebecca, Amber, Bane, and Brittany sat cross-legged in a circle around the disc-shaped Spirit Seal, their eyes closed, breathing slowly and essentially unconscious. What rested behind Cecil, however, shocked him even more than seeing his soulless friends still alive. Alexander Revell was kneeling, his hands clasped together in prayer, alive and well and yet just as silent and still as the others.
Sensing him, and looking up, Alex seemed just as stunned as he. "Craig!" he exclaimed. "What happened? Where are we?"
"Are you..." Craig began to ask, then cut the question off sharply, unsure how much Alex recalled of what had transpired. "Do you remember anything?"
"Not really," the other youth sighed, standing up and brushing the dust off the knees of his dark green dress slacks. "One minute I was answering a call to fight a Rapture Holder, the next minute I fell onto the carpet here. My head tells me it was just about twenty minutes ago, but my heart tells me it was a lot longer than that." Then, blinking rapidly like he was waking up from a long dream, he added, "What's the matter with everyone else? They won't move or talk."
Craig walked down off the dais to where his friends sat, pushing his way inbetween Amber and Bane far enough to grab the silver Seal and lift it up. It was much too heavy for its size, and gleamed with an ambivalent aura as it caught and reflected the firelight around them all. As he stood there, holding it, an urge from deep within began bubbling to the surface, slowly at first and gradually picking up intensity. A conflagration of determination replaced the calmness of his heart and, shocked, he dropped the Seal to the ground. The fire died once more. This time, instead of touching the Spirit Seal, Craig lifted his fist and punched it with all the normal strength he could muster after such an intense battle. One crack appeared in the disc, then another, and another, until the entire thing burst apart into millions of pieces.
He watched as Cecil jumped to his feet, screaming, flailing his hands uncontrollably in front of his face. The others were much more relaxed as, one by one, they gently opened their eyes and gaping at the sights around them. Cecil, crouching down now, fought to keep control over his actions; something traumatizing must have taken place during the time his soul was being transferred. "Craig!" Rebecca was the first to notice his presence, and she wasted little time bounding to her feet and throwing herself at him in a giant bear hug. He opened his arms, welcoming her, and the impact of her body against his was unbelievably painful, but he resisted the urge to painfully cry out.
"Alex!" gasped Amber, realizing another person was in the room. Rebecca dropped her hold on Craig and turned to see for herself what the commotion was about. Alexander was blushing as Amber took his face in her hands and examined him closely; Bane placed his hand firmly on Alex's shoulder, a typical welcoming gesture for him.
Everyone else was on their feet, so Cecil helped Brittany stand up slowly to join the rest of their friends's reunion. "I don't think I really believe it," Brittany remarked with a soft smile. "What's going on?"
Craig, unable to call forth anymore of his own strength, sat down on the carpeted floor, right next to the shattered Spirit Seal, and breathed an enormous sigh of relief. "Michael is dead. Twilight Legion is wiped out. Our crusade is truly over at last."
"Then let us leave this hellhole," Cecil growled, lifting his Omni Morpher.
Shaking his head, Craig replied, "The Morpher's power and the energy of Meridian-Omega are one and the same. They act like magnets to one another, wanting to stay together, so we aren't going to teleport like that. We have to wait for Gemini Destiny to land."
"Good," said Amber, "then you have plenty of time to tell us what the hell happened after Ego woke up."
"Ego?" Alex repeated, his eyes widening in terror, examining his surroundings once again with a new perspective. "I knew this place looked familiar. It's Ego's Sanctuary!"
Reassuring them in a hushed voice, Craig commanded, "Calm down, everyone, I'll explain everything. And then we'll go home. All of us." Then, laughing, he spread his arms out to the sides and let himself fall backward into a deep, cleansing, dreamless sleep.
Some say time flows like a river, and history repeats itself time and time again, as the events of the past return to haunt the present and loom ominously over the future. This was not the first time Craig Hopwood had felt the euphoria of victory over a powerful enemy. Arcanza's thirst for destruction was wiped away by the combined efforts of he and his friends, and now Michael Tracer's evil had been similarly put to rest for all time. Additionally, this time, no remnant of Twilight Legion existed to rebuild as it had before. It was complete. Full circle.
"I still do not understand how you survived Trinity Critical," griped Cecil as he tossed a rubber ball back and forth against the empty wall of Gemini Destiny's operations room. "Back on Earth I took that full force and was certain I was about to die."
Craig nodded, cracking his knuckles in nervous anticipation of how he was going to answer without sounding utterly insane. "I think, during our fight, the massive amount of energy we were expending was returning to Meridian-Omega. It was still acting as a focal point for collecting stray energy. Somehow, I tapped into that and brought myself back to full power."
"Then how did you survive putting Cataclysm Vein through your heart and into Michael's?" wondered Amber. "That makes even less sense!"
Soleron smirked, the closest the unphasable Omnian warrior ever came to a happy look on his stone face. "The blade was created by sacrificing the life of a Starborn descendent several thousand years ago. I imagine the weapon was merely incapable of hurting another Starborn descendent."
Twisting in her chair, Seraide sighed, "So that is how it is."
"Oh, I can't believe I almost forgot!" Rebecca gasped suddenly. She scrambled out the exit and reappeared a minute later clutching a small velvet box between both her hands. Seeking out Alex, sitting dumbfounded on the floor, she presented the item to him and informed him, "This is a gift from all of us. Welcome back."
Slowly Alex lifted the lid to the velvet box and redrew a golden chain, at the end of which was a golden crucifix embedded with a glimmering emerald gemstone in the center. "It's beautiful," he told them with a tinge of excitement in his voice. "Thank you, everyone." The sleeve of his left arm was rolled up to proudly display his restored, unscratched arm. Brittany's anti-pseudoine serum had worked perfectly to cure him of the terrible reminder, and also to ensure he would remain perfectly sane forever.
"Well, I think the time has come to address the unspoken question that worries us all," Oriquin interjected. "And that is what to do now that we have quelled the threat to the universe. Where will we go from here?"
The coarse tone of Talyserys replied, "Lord Oriquin, all of us have a mission back on New Omnis, rebuilding it into a brand new home for our race and to preserve our legacy for the future." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "And that world remains without a permanent ruler, as I am sure you are aware."
Oriquin nodded, glancing quickly to Soleron and Seraide, sitting next to one another, hands clasped and resting in Soleron's lap. "I have already decided to return with you. I meant, specifically, what to do about OmniTech."
"I want to destroy it," Craig answered immediately. All six Omnians, shocked to their core, gasped loudly, and immediately began producing one complaint on top of other, but none so loud as Oriquin himself. The teenagers from Earth all remained still, as if they were relieved with the idea. Bane stared blankly at the monitors projecting their spaceship's course. "But!" he hollered, regaining silence and their undivided attention. "We can't destroy it yet. Cecil and the others still need it."
"Still need it?" repeated Cecil angrily. The rubber ball bounced off the wall and smacked him in the side of the head. "What for?"
Craig hung his head and went frighteningly quiet. "Three Seals of Hell hold the Eternal Demon locked within the Ethercell. If all three are broken, it will escape back into our universe and cause more devastation than Twilight Legion could ever have dreamed of."
"What's that got to do with us?" Brittany asked.
"Well, the third Seal is somewhere on Earth, somewhere deep below the oceans where Oriquin tossed it." Craig could feel the sadness he was creating, but knew it was necessary to get off his chest sooner or later. "All of you need to keep your Morphers to prevent it from ever being found or broken."
Soleron nodded, content and in agreement, but he was still not satisfied with the situation. "And what about twenty-five years from now, when your friends begin losing their sanity from the overtaxing OmniTech places on their minds?"
"They won't use it all the time," Craig replied. "Only when necessary. For now, the Earth still has need of the Omni Rangers."
"Very well," allowed Oriquin. "I agree. The Ability Bands are entrusted to Earth for the time being."
The arrangement set everyone abuzz, and they began to talk amongst themselves, arguing and bargaining and rationalizing, but Craig was too tired to keep talking. He silently excused himself and exited the operations room. Finding his way to the pilot's quarters, he jumped up onto the bed and closed his eyes to relax. The rocking of Gemini Destiny helped lull him into a quick..."nap."
And if Craig had woken up, he would have woken up in a world—no, an entire universe—reborn once more.
"I love you," Bane whispered into her ear. Slowly, Rachel rolled over in bed, her eyes fluttering open in a gentle and expectant stare, and their lips locked in a passionate midnight kiss. Her bedroom door was not unlocked until morning.
"I'm back," announced Alex, pushing the bedroom door open. Paulo and Myra Revell shot up, sitting upright in bed, staring thunderstruck at the outline of their son standing in the entryway, a twinkle reflecting on something around his neck.
"Hi, everyone," Rebecca called, slamming the front door shut. It was less than a minute before Richard Spencer stood at the top stair of the ascending staircase, watching his wife and three daughters share a touching welcome-back hug.
"I never want to leave like that again," sighed Amber, squeezing Charles Donaldson tight enough to choke him. Her mother took Amber's hands in her own and beamed with happiness at the second return of her daughter.
"It's awfully cold here," Brittany told herself through chattering teeth. She fell, exhausted, onto her bed and dropped her head against the fluffy pillow, so by the time her father entered to tuck her in she was fast asleep.
"Guess there is no party for me," Cecil muttered, flipping the light switch as he entered the empty house. His father was still on an overseas flight, and his mother was on a week-long business trip to New York. "Ah, well, it still beats being dead, I guess."
The sun hung high in the sky, signaling it was close to noon, and a flock of birds rustled their feathers as they soared past the roof of Sharpened Senses, a small out-of-the-way martial arts studio in downtown Ivory Glade, Colorado. In the window a small sign hung announcing the business was closed for the afternoon to hold a private party. At the counter that doubled as a refreshment bar, Grandfather Revell sat quietly, stirring the sugar into his coffee with a little stir.
Alex grinned happily, shaking hands with friends from school. Everyone gaped at him, now openly aware he was the former Green Omni Ranger, and blinked back amazement as they noticed Amber, Brittany, Rebecca, and Cecil as well. Bane, now going purely by the name of Henry Vaughan, was occasionally confronted by one of Alex's classmates, but except for Rachel he had little time or voice to waste on anyone else. Standing in the corner, his arms crossed, Cecil smirked at the sight of them huddled in another corner of the studio. Sarah Collins was here, playing songs on the piano they had moved down from the storage room on the second floor earlier. The music was soothing and happy.
"So, it's a welcome back from outer space party," laughed Jeremy, one of their friends from school. "I always thought you had your head in the clouds, Becky. Now I know why."
"Shut up," Rebecca answered with a laugh of her own.
A hand grabbed Cecil's shoulder, and he turned around quickly expecting to see someone other than he actually did. "Hey, nice work, Cece," Patrick complimented him.
"Thanks," replied Cecil. "You helped out a bit, too. Everyone helped in their own way. This is everyone's thank you party."
Sarah came over to Cecil next and pulled his arm, his empty and strangely light Morpher-less arm, tugging him over to the center of the dojo and asking, "Why are you always such a wallflower? The party's in your honor; stay out here with us."
"Yeah, sorry," he stammered, hiding his blush by turning a different direction. He twisted the toothpick between his teeth to a new position as he grew more nervous. "I just thought someone else would show up."
"Who?" wondered Sarah.
Rebecca nudged her way inbetween the two of them and interrupted, "May I cut in?" She smiled that cute and refreshing smile, and Cecil immediately caught himself turning red once again. He offered his hands to her in hopes of a dance, and she gladly accepted. The sounds of the piano drifted over to them, a familiar song that he could not quite place, but his focus changed quickly to Rebecca and the dance they shared.
Suddenly, Cecil realized where he had heard the song before. It was Pachelbel, and it was one of his favorite songs, one he had practiced over and over until perfecting it to the point he could play it without the sheet music. Dropping Rebecca's hands unexpectedly, Cecil rushed over to the piano in expectation, but the stool was empty and the last note vibrated auspiciously in the air.
"Craig..." he said with certainty. "I am glad you are finally home."
Midnight, somewhere on Earth. Stars scattered themselves across the heavens. One particular "star" shined brighter than the rest this night, light escaping from a distant void that could not have been more than a few days old. A massive explosion of light in the far reaches of the universe that does not reach Earth until it has traveled the twists and turns of an ever-expanding universe. Just as quickly as the celestial light surged to life, it died out, rejoining the void it emerged from, becoming one with the darkness once more.
Original Publication Date: 23 August 2003
