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Heroes of Might and Magic, Act III - Jay Omega - 01-29-2022
==============================
"I like to have powerful enemies; makes me feel important."
-Leigh Bardugo
==============================
EARTH M4G1C
Court of the Bloody Baron, the Northern Reaches, Northern Continent
28/01/2022, 1627 Hrs, Local Time
Court of the Bloody Baron, the Northern Reaches, Northern Continent
28/01/2022, 1627 Hrs, Local Time
~When the job had been described to Jay Omega, it had been made to seem urgent; as though the band of mercenaries he had been tasked with stopping were nearly there. The reality of the situation was that the quartet of killers had been fighting their way up the massive spire of an evil wizard, and even though a week had passed since Omega had agreed to this job, his targets were still four floors below him. Four floors full of whatever devious traps and nightmarish monsters the Bloody Baron, Janus von Megar, had concocted. They had been making better time the higher they climbed, the tower narrowing as it reached the top provided less space, meaning fewer monsters.
Bored out of his mind, Jay slumped against the volcanic obsidian wall and looked over at Jack "of Shadows" Hampshire, who was using the perpendicular wall's reflective surface as a scrying table. Seemed the troupe were involved in another battle, at least those were enough to hold Omega's interest; more than half the time Jack had been spying had been spent watching the approaching men walk or sleep. There had also been that disturbing night when the bard, Johnson Armstrong had crept away from his sleeping compatriots and had his way with the mostly intact corpse of a worg.
"Fuckin' hate waiting." The Omega Man said needlessly, drawing a sympathetic nod from Jack. As one, Jay retrieved a blunt from his case while Hampshire withdrew a cigarette from his pack, and the two men lit up in synchronicity; twin plumes of smoke drifting upward.
"Only three floors now," Jack stated in a quiet voice; he had ostensibly been conserving his energy all day, "At this rate, they'll be coming through that fookin' door in about twenty minutes or so."
"Bangarang," Omega said as he hit his blunt, then jerked his thumb in the direction of the balcony across the room, "I'mma go cut my last promo, kill some time. Holler if you need me."
Hampshire nodded and waved him off dismissively, never taking his eyes from the scene unfolding before him. The Omega Man retreated across the room and stepped out onto the balcony, taking a deep breath of air unspoiled by industrial pollutants as he reached inside his vest. Jay withdrew a Compact Aerial Recon Drone - essentially a flying camera the size of a business card - synced it with his Wearable Espionage and Information Retrieval Device, then tossed the C.A.R.D. into the air. Meanwhile, Jack of Shadows continued with the ritual he had quietly been casting since daybreak. It required a great deal of both his concentration and his reserves of magical energy, but if he could finish before their expected company arrived, it would ensure things went in his and Jay's favor.
Hampshire watched as the silent monk quickstepped between several traps, expending his ki to move faster than the malicious mechanical hazards could operate, leaving the way behind him clear for the others. The barbarian forged ahead and activated a floor panel, which brought two stone pillars swinging in from either side. Jack merely quirked an eyebrow when the half orc caught a pillar in each hand, straining from the effort, then raised both eyebrows when the barbarian shoved the pillars all the way back into the walls; applying such force to the mechanism that Hampshire could hear the metal squealing in protest from two floors away. Jack watched as the group cleared the last trap of the floor - a spike pit the barbarian simply threw everyone over - and ascended another level; only two more to go.
Jack had to wonder if this intrepid band would even make it to them, for as the group entered the main chamber, a Minotaur stepped from the shadows with a bellow. The beast's roar was met by one from the barbarian, who surged forward with his greatmaul moving into an overhand swing. The Minotaur dodged with uncanny speed, then blasted the barbarian backward with a powerful kick from its cloven hoof. Immediately the bard was at the barbarian's side, strumming what Hampshire assumed was a soothing tune on his acoustic guitar. Jack had to assume, as he had chosen to forgo the option of listening while scrying, due to the need for concentration. The barbarian rose to his feet and shook his head, then gave the Minotaur a feral grin and charged again, this time flanked by the changeling fighter and the monk.
The fighter and monk outpaced the barbarian within a few steps, leaving him to bring up the rear as they closed the distance to their foe. Once they were in range, the Minotaur swung his great scythe-like sword in a horizontal arc; the changeling fluidly slipping under the blade by sliding on its knees, while the monk leapt up onto the sword and sprinted down its length to land a ki-assisted palm strike square between the beast’s beady eyes. The Minotaur grunted in surprise as it staggered back a step, then cried out in pain as the changeling fighter popped up to a vertical base and slashed at the beast’s thigh with its magic blades. The monstrous abomination dropped its sword to clutch at its wound, only to have the barbarian bowl it over with a reckless charge that put them both on the floor.
The half orc and the half bull rolled around in a violent embrace; punching, kicking, biting. The barbarian landed a solid headbutt which rocked the beast, then sprung back to pick up his greatmaul. As the barbarian raised his heavy weapon overhead, the changeling quickly stepped behind and around the half orc, coming out the other side as a mirror image of the brutal warrior, its magic weapon having morphed into a matching greatmaul. Like a pair of steel-drivers constructing a railroad, the two identical barbarians worked their greatmauls rhythmically; pounding the Minotaur’s head and chest until long after the creature was dead; nothing remaining above the waist but ground beef and one unbroken horn, which the barbarian claimed as a trophy. The troupe trudged wearily toward the door leading to the next staircase, the monk paused as he realized the bard wasn’t with them, and looked back inquisitively.
“You guys go on ahead,” Jack was unable to hear what Johnson said to the others as he eyed the dead Minotaur’s untouched backside, but he could read the man’s lips well enough, “I’ll catch up.” The monk shivered in revulsion and turned away; Jack wisely chose to have the scrying follow him. Only one floor now separated the advancing adventurers from Hampshire and Omega. The mage was nearing the end of the ritual, but by his estimation, it was going to be a photo finish between the spell completing and the four mercenaries bursting through the door. The three weapon-wielding warriors stepped into what seemed like an empty chamber, but waited just inside the threshold rather than explore without their fourth. They didn’t have to wait long before the bard entered the room behind them, retying his baggy breeches with a satisfied smile on his face.
No sooner had the troupe reunited than the doors at either end of the room slammed shut of their own accord. The quartet all readied themselves, casting about in the shadows for any possible threat, then all looked down in unison. Hampshire leaned a bit closer, sparing just a little more concentration in an attempt to see what they were seeing; water. The room was slowly filling with water from some unseen source. The changeling nudged the barbarian and pointed at the exit, who nodded and hefted his greatmaul as he crossed the room, his progress slowed by the knee-high liquid. The half orc reached the far wall and swung his enormous hammer at the door, only to find it magically warded; the resulting crimson shockwave hurled the barbarian back among his companions and knocked them all down.
All four took some time to gather their wits about them; the water now up to the monk's waist. The bard waded over the the sealed door, holding his guitar well above the waterline, and began strumming tunelessly, carefully watching the door for any sort of reaction. Of a sudden, the bard plucked several strings in rapid succession, ending with a flourishing strum that dispelled the arcane lock in a flare of red. Unable to pull the unlocked door open against the mounting water pressure, the bard called for the dazed barbarian to try again. Not waiting for the slow-moving half orc, the monk flowed through the water as if the impediment were scarcely there, and laid a flurry of strikes against the thick oak door. Several cracks opened on the wooden surface, widening as the water sought escape from the confines of the room as eagerly as the occupants.
Jack of Shadows heard the door at the other end of the nearby stairwell shatter as it was torn apart by an angry barbarian, and released the scrying spell, signalling to Omega that it was time. Hampshire turned all his focus toward finishing the ritual, completing everything but the trigger phrase as Jay came and stood at his side, drawing both his alien pistol and the facsimile produced by Tesla. Omega raised his weapons to shoulder level, and spoke to each of them in turn.
"Stunner rounds," The Omega Man said to the Virfneb Caster, then turned his head to the Tesla Caster Mk.3, "Tesla rounds; level one"
"Stunner rounds." Confirmed the original weapon, whirring as the selected ammunition was manufactured.
"Tesla rounds, level one." Echoed the man-made copy, the barrel reconfiguring to fit the appropriate shells.
"How we doin', Jack?" Jay asked, the emptiness of his voice reflecting his pre-combat calm.
"Ready when you are, bruv," the mage replied, then raised his hands into a ready position as the splintered remains of the door at the far end of the room exploded inward from the force of the barbarian's kick, "And not a fookin' moment too soon."~
"Earn your crown by overcoming your crosses."
-Matshona Dhliwayo
==============================
*We fade in to fin--*
*WHOA! Aren't you going to welcome the True Believers back to the party?*
*I wasn't planning to, no. And working with you is hardly a party.*
*That's cold. Ya gotta be nice to the True Believers; their financial support is the only thing keeping the lights on!*
*What the fuck are you talking about? No, no, don't answer; I don't care, I don't want to know.*
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*I hate you. I hate you so fucking much.*
*Love me or hate me, still an obsession. Love me or hate me, that is the question. If you lo--*
*NO! I tolerate a lot of your shit, but if you ever reference Lady Sovereign in my presence again, I will have the Director send you on "vacation".*
*Wow, o-okay. I'll try to rein it in, no need to pull out the big guns.*
*Good. Now, let's get started. We fade in to fin--*
*Welcome back, True Believers!*
*Fade in to find Jay Omega illuminated by the gentles tones of approaching sunset, leaning on the thick marble balustrade of an elaborate balcony affixed to what appears to be a tower built of obsidian bricks; part of a room opulently decorated in scarlet and gold visible through the archway behind him. The blunt burning away in his right hand as much a part of his outfit as the leather vest or utility pants; its presence as comforting to him as the oversized pistols holstered on each thigh.*
JAY OMEGA: From the moment Chammy's first promo hit the airwaves, I could see the theme they had in mind; divide the opponents into tidy packages, and show off that vaunted emulation in short, sustainable bursts. That's why the first promo focused on only two opponents; it would have been a cognitive overload for Chammy to try shifting through five personalities each time. Clearly the intent is to have the last promo focus entirely on Corey, if Chammy can find the time. And I'm sure that won't be an issue, considering how many corners were cut on that last schlockfest.
*Omega hits the blunt like it owes him money, and shakes his head in disbelief at the Chameleon's lack of production values.*
JAY OMEGA: Congratulations, Chammy, on getting your Dick Powers impersonation right, at least. Of course, it's not too hard to imitate a vapid one trick pony who has no sense of how irrelevant he is. But you? You nailed it! I almost believed I was subjecting myself to the psychological torture of sitting through a lesser competitor's poorly constructed attempt at ham-fisting as many juvenile innuendos into a tired scenario as possible. Then I realized I was watching a lesser competitor's poorly constructed attempt at mimicking a lesser competitor. So like I said, good job; I truly believed that you suck as much as Powers; possibly even more! A testament to your ability, truly.
*Jay draws on the blunt again, shifting his focus for a moment to take in the splendor of nature's majesty, unseen from the vantage point of the cam--*
*I think that's a pair of deer boning down there.*
*Classy. Omega exhales a thick cloud of creamy smoke which hangs in the air for a moment before being snatched away on a mid-afternoon breeze. A moment more passes in silence, then his gaze returns to us.*
JAY OMEGA: But then you went and dropped the ball with Hayato Okamoto; what happened there? I'd be willing to cut you some slack, and say that it's hard to imitate someone you know next to nothing about, but that didn't stop you from trying with me. C'mon, surely you could have at least attempted aping a match in some obscure Japanese arena, talk about the inherent difficulties of making a mainstream debut with little to no marketing. Shit, it could have been real relatable; might've helped you with some much needed introspection. But that’s probably considered a dirty word in your circle; something your Custodian needs to scrub away from what little personality you possess. Here’s hoping whatever derivative simulation of Corey’s life you wind up butchering is at least mildly entertaining; I hear the kid’s had quite the exciting career. Though to be perfectly honest, I’d rather hear the gritty details straight from the horse’s mouth, not watered down and spat in my face like a tepid martini in an airport bar.
*Another hit from the blunt, and The Omega Man points at the camera with his left hand and spins about face, the drone tracking with his arm to keep his handsome mug centered, though the background whirls in a dizzying way that kinda makes me feel like I’m gonna do the Technicolor yawn in a moment; motion sickness is a bitch. Anyhoo, now Jay’s leaning back against the balcony’s railing, and we get an eyeful of that good ol’ natural Splenda, which I think is just sugar. Does that make sense? I mean, it is a sweet view… Yeah, that makes sense. So yeah, that natural Splenda; a wide field of emerald green treetops stretches out into the horizon, with enough space here and there that you can kinda see into the forest in some places. In fact, if you direct your attention to the bottom right corner of the screen and squint real hard, you might be able to see those boning deer I was talking about.*
JAY OMEGA: And I will get to Corey in a moment, I just need to quickly run down the other three minor obstacles in my path. So, Dick Powers is the least credible threat in this match by a country mile, and he’s also the least funny joke I’ve heard in my short time as an XWF employee. The dude is a personification of everything a fourteen year old kid associates with a ladykiller, with matching vocabulary. Listen man, I know your high school sweetheart wrote “don’t ever change” in your yearbook back in Two Thousand Nine, but come on!
*Omega casually flicks the ash away from the end of his blunt and gives the camera a pitying look.*
JAY OMEGA: Only slightly more credible of a threat is Rampage. I know in my last two videos I’ve omitted the fact that he was a Television Champion, and I don’t want y’all to get the idea that maybe I didn’t do my homework, ‘cause I did. It's just that his reign was so short, they didn't even bother engraving a nameplate for him. And I don't mean to denigrate all the big time players who have held the TeeVee title on their way to greatness, but it is a third string title, and beneath my personal notice. But Rampage hasn't done anything since losing the belt back to the same person he fluked into winning it from, leading me to believe that's not just the pinnacle of his achievements, but also of his ability.
*The Omega Man glances past us at something inside, craning his neck to do so, then shimmies a few steps to the side for a more comfortable view. Jay puts his attention back on us, then fills his lungs with some of that sweet dankness.*
JAY OMEGA: The only reason I’m considering Hayato Okamoto more of a threat than the two established names is because he’s a complete wildcard at this point. Dude could show up and go all One Punch Man on us, pick up the Supercontinental title without breaking a sweat. Maybe he hasn’t promoted the match at all because he’s confident he’ll be a big enough draw to negate any fines he gets slapped with for not upholding his end of the contract. Maybe… shit, did anyone check if this guy speaks English? Maybe he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to upload his promos, or maybe he misinterpreted the number of promos required by a match of this caliber. Are we even sure he knows he’s been booked? Somebody in management ought to look into that.
*Omega takes one last deep pull on the blunt, then tosses the remainder over his shoulder and exhales upward.*
JAY OMEGA: Now that the formalities have been observed, we can get to the fun stuff. The real match; Jay Omega versus Corey Smith, no matter what the sideshow reject in the shiny mask thinks. First things first, I want to clarify something I said about not wanting the Supercontinental strap we’re scrapping for. Don’t think for a second that means I’m going to throw anything less than all I’ve got at ya, Core’meister. All I meant by that was that a singles championship wasn’t on my agenda when I signed my contract; it wasn’t something I was actively seeking. I ain’t dumb enough to turn down the opportunity, though.
The Omega Man gives us his trademark half baked half grin and tilts his head to the side.*
JAY OMEGA: Besides, there’s still plenty of room in my trophy case; just ‘cause I was intent on goin’ after the tag straps doesn’t mean I can’t hold two belts at once, and I do look good in gold. Rest assured, Corey, regardless of what the prize is at the end of the match, it’s the high from gettin’ that dubya that I’m chasin’. I’d still go all out even if winning meant getting a sandpaper handjob from Charlie Nickles while he insists on making eye contact. … Okay, I might consider taking a dive on that one, not gonna lie. But my point stands; it doesn’t matter to me whether or not I had a vested interest in chasing the Supercontinental Championship, I have the opportunity to strut my stuff with one of the best in the business, with the potential to pick up a title and build its prestige. I would have to actively hate myself to not take full advantage, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I most definitely do not hate myself.
*Jay gives us a cheeky wink, then rolls his head on his neck, producing a pop from his vertebrae.*
JAY OMEGA: So now that we’ve agreed we’re both going full throttle, that means I’m not going to get a slow paced opening to buy more recovery time. Maybe I should pop over to Earth Ay En One Em Three and grab myself a senzu bean, ensuring I’m in top form. Oh shit, maybe I’ll just steal a health potion from the asshole whose tower I’m defending for reasons I was never fully on board with. To be honest, I’ll probably just smoke a fat blunt and slam back a couple of Monster energy drinks and be good to go; I ain’t superhuman, but I have been doing this sort of thing for a long time, so my stamina is not in short supply. No, the methodical work will come in the preliminary match, Corey; a game of conservation between Chameleon and I, to see who can expend as little energy as possible in order to save the most for you. But here’s the thing; Chammy’s not going into this match with the intent to emulate me. No, Sunday night, I’m gonna beat down Dicky, Rampage, and Hayato in the middle of a match with Corie Smyth. Chammy thinks they’ve got your number, Core’meister, and they’re going to be making a mockery of you in that ring. I’ll tell ya right now, the only number Chammy has is a big ol’ two, ‘cause I think it’s safe to say we all know that I’m coming out of this scramble as number one.
*Omega looks past the camera again, and gives a nod of acknowledgment to someone inside.*
JAY OMEGA: Well, I think that’s about all the time I’ve got, about to have guests in a moment. Before I go, though, I want you to know that I was serious about swapping stories over a beer some time; I get that you’re a busy guy, so I’ll leave ya my number after the show. Give me a shout when you’re free and we’ll hang; I know a fantastic bar with a killer view, so long as you don’t mind a short trip. All right, I’m out; see y’all in the ring!
*Jay gives the universal “cut” signal, and the scene fades to black.*
”For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust in the first place.”
-The Hunger Games
==============================
EARTH M4G1C
Court of the Bloody Baron, the Northern Reaches, Northern Continent
28/01/2022, 1642 Hrs, Local Time
Court of the Bloody Baron, the Northern Reaches, Northern Continent
28/01/2022, 1642 Hrs, Local Time
~Janus von Megar stood at the head of the summoning circle, conducting the summoning ceremony that would bring others of his kind into this world, barely able to contain his combined glee and self-satisfaction. The information that had been asked of him had been a pittance - a trifling query about the intentions of a lich already gone from their realm, and how to combat it, should such have become necessary. In return he had duped his mortal enemy into defending him while he brought ruin and damnation to the people here; he did so enjoy it when a plot came together. So caught up was he in his self-congratulatory fervor, that he failed to notice the chamber door to his left swing slowly open. He did not, however, miss the near-silent sound of the monk dashing across the room in his direction.
Enraged, von Megar shifted just enough attention away from his main focus to ragdoll the monk back across the room with a telekinetic throw. He was vaguely aware of a meaty thud and a loud crack as the monk hit the wall, but his concentration was already back on forcing open the hole between realms that had finally appeared in the center of the circle. A thick black liquid oozed from the hole and flowed out of the circle as though it were a living thing, making its way over toward the fallen monk as the other adventurers and that infuriating Omega filed into the room and spread out. The insufferable fool began a heroically cliched speech about good and evil and second chances; von Megar spared just enough of a thought to throw a small fireball in his general direction; the portal was almost large enough, he just needed a few more moments. Moments it seemed he would have, as the monk rose back to his feet with an unearthly moan, his head lolling to the side on a broken neck.
The walking corpse shambled toward the bard, whose leg was pinned under some rubble. Johnson shrunk back in fear, but was unable to prevent the monk from descending on him. The being formerly known as Sum Khan Ji took hold of Johnson’s head and vomited a stream of black fluid onto the man’s face. Armstrong screamed in unabashed agony as the substance wormed its way into his body through his eyes, nose, and mouth. The scream became a gurgle, which choked off completely, followed by both the monk and the bard producing the same unearthly moan simultaneously. The Bloody Baron redoubled his efforts, forcing the hole to remain steady at roughly the circumference of a strong man’s bicep; large enough for a long, thin tentacle to snake out, then another. The appendages stretched out, then looped back in on themselves, gripping the edges of the portal and trying to brute force it open further.
A small metal cylinder suddenly appeared on one tentacle’s side, followed by the tentacle itself convulsing as the casing hit it with several rapid bursts of 80 kilovolts. Janus blinked several times as he brought himself back to the here and now, realizing where the shot had come from. With his part in the summoning complete, von Megar turned his full attention to the intruders in his casting chamber. Electricity surged up the baron’s arm, little arcs jumping betweens his fingers like a living Jacob’s Ladder; the barbarian rose up in his path, and the barbarian was cast down with cardiac arrhythmia, his considerable muscles doing him no good as they seized endlessly. When the shaking did finally stop, the changeling was suddenly crouched over the barbarian, vomiting black fluid onto his face as well.
“Well fuckbunkies,” Omega swore quietly as he realized he was going to have to kill the four mercenaries anyway. It did help to ease his conscience knowing that they were in fact already dead, and he would be doing them a mercy. But it wouldn’t be as simple as shooting zombies in the head; this was some black magic at work and he also had to contend with whatever spells von Megar added to the mix. With no time to plan or even think, Jay threw himself into motion, flowing through the stances of gunkata as he moved about the room, keeping distance between himself and the shuffling undead as he fired a variety of ammunition in the hopes of finding something effective. The barbarian zombie flared up in an unexpected blaze, incinerated by Jack Hampshire, and Omega took the hint, switching to fire-based ammo. When the undead monk, bard, and fighter had been subdued, Jay turned to Jack of Shadows with a smile on his face that froze as the two men were lifted into the air.
“Impudent worm!” Shouted the Bloody Baron as he spun The Omega Man to face him, then stretched him out as tightly as he could, arms held to either side. “Didst thou not think I wouldst anticipate thy betrayal? Thou art a man without integrity, Omega; I never had any trust for thee. But now? Now I shall flay thee alive, and eat thy still-beating heart in front of thee! Dost thou have any last words, thou miserable dung beetle?!?” Omega gave a Cheshire cat smile and held his head up as straight as he could.
“Blabberin’ blatherskite.”
A shockwave of violet energy blasted through the room, robbing everyone of sight for a moment. When von Megar’s vision returned, he found himself looking down the three barrels of a shoulder mounted rotating autocannon, the weapon already spinning up. With a snarl, the Bloody Baron sprayed a cone of acid from his hand and dove for cover behind a collapsed section of wall.
“Fuck yes!” Jay yelled, his voice synthesized by the external speakers of the futuristic power armor he now wore, “I can’t believe it worked!” Omega raised his right hand, and an underslung grenade launcher locked into position, the launch tube extending well past Jay’s wrist. With a loud THOONK!, The Omega Man fired a gas grenade on the other side of the rubble; they needed von Megar alive in order to counter whatever he had been trying to do. When the grenade failed to go off, Jay stalked closer to von Megar’s concealment and discovered the devious baron had cut a hole in the floor and made his escape.
“Shit, Baron von Fuckface managed to get away," Omega said in disappointment, then looked back at where Jack of Shadows was trying to close the extradimensional portal with a panicked expression on his face.
“I can’t fookin’ stop it, bruv!” Hampshire said, his voice strained, “Whatever the fook’s on the other side is too fookin’ much for me! You’ve gotta get out of here; I can maybe destroy the portal, but it’ll be like a fook off giant nuke.”
“Yeah, you know I’m not gonna just leave, Jack,” Jay chided with a shake of his armored head “Don’t be dumb. What kind of range do you need to destroy it? The supersuit can fly for a few minutes, maybe we could–”
“I have to touch it.” Jack said sadly, “Look, don’t drag this out more than it needs, you emotional cunt; take your supersuit and fly away, you let Jacky Boy settle things here.”
“No!” Omega cried, “I’m not going to just leave you; there has to be a way to close it!”
“Bruv, it’s takin’ everything I’ve got to keep it where it is, and I don’t have much left in the fookin’ tank,” Hampshire said tiredly, taking a step toward the glowing aperture, “I could close it if I were ten times stronger, but I’d need access to a fookin’ huge store of cosmic energy, and there’s just no fookin’ way to get what we need in the next thirty seconds.”
“Wait, do you hear that?” Jay asked, tilting his head quizzically, “Like someone screaming in terror, but really far away?”
Several blue streaks of energy crackled in the air behind Omega, and he turned around just in time to see a column of cerulean light bore a hole through the vaulted ceiling. Left standing in the center of a small divot in the obsidian was a young Japanese businessman with an ornately carved sapphire embedded in his left palm.
“Kaz?” The Omega Man asked Kazuto Mazikawa in a mix of confusion and incredulity, “The fuck are you doing here? How did you get here? What the fucking fuck?”
Mazikawa looked around in equal confusion, not even sure where “here” was, then looked down at the gem in his palm, which had begun to glow softly.
“I don’t know. I was meditating in my quarters when I heard a voice telling me I was needed,” Kazuto explained, speaking as though he were only partially awake, “I remember standing up, and then I was here. I’m here because I’m needed.”
Before anyone could react, Kazuto reached out with his gem-laden hand and placed it between Jack’s shoulder blades. Hampshire gasped in surprise as power flooded into him, his eyes taking on a sapphire glow, and an aura of blue flame dancing over his hands. Jack of Shadows rose two feet into the air, the flames around his hands condensing and growing brighter until it seemed he was holding a pair of white-hot spheres. Hampshire slowly settled back to the ground, then placed his glowing hands above and below the portal, bringing them together at a steady pace. A mind bending shriek emanated from within the portal, and for a moment Jay could swear that everything he looked at tasted blue. The feeling passed as quickly as it had come, and Omega watched as the glowing spheres in Jack’s hands fused the ragged hole in reality shut once more.
The Omega Man was right there when the blue light went out from Hampshire’s eyes, helped steady him as he collapsed onto all fours heaving deep, shuddering breaths. Jay was worried over the state of his friend’s health, when Jack turned to look at him, his eyes shining with excitement.
“Fook me, bruv,” Hampshire said breathlessly, “That was better than the night we did molly with those strippers.”
Relieved that the mage seemed to be alright, Omega rose and regarded Mazikawa intently, paying special attention to the softly glowing gem.
“Hey man, I know I said I wasn’t gonna push you or anything,” Jay began, indicating the stone fused to Kazuto’s hand, “But when we get back, I’d really appreciate it if you’d let Nicky check that thing out a little more in-depth; I’d like to know what the Hells just happened, and if you can do it again.”
Mazikawa nodded in dazed agreement, not sure what had happened himself, and Omega hauled Jack of Shadows back up to his feet.
“Okay, Jack, break time’s over,” The Omega Man said good naturedly, “If you’d be so kind as to Gate us back to the island, I’ll fire up the ol’ Cue Em Tee Ess when we get there so we can head on home; I’ve got two matches to wrestle, and a championship to win.”~