You land on the Battlefield next to the rest of your friends. Everyone is in full god tier regalia – Tiffany and Liz in red and gold robes, Greg with a hilariously oversized black hood, Steph in her awesome navy cloak, and James is ridiculous yellow tights. Your face burns as you see everyone glance at your smooth, bare legs.
JAMES: Wow, and I thought mine was bad.
ELIZABETH: Well, I think it’s dashing.
JAMES: It’s dashing my brains against my skull.
STEVE: I’m sorry the tights are cutting off the circulation to your head.
JAMES: What?
JAMES: …Damn it, okay, that was good.
He holds out his hand, and you’re not going to leave your best friend hanging. You share a brotherly fist bump.
The Battlefield stretches before you, checkered tiles running off as far as the eye can see. Already you can see fallen Prospitan soldiers strewn about, clearly fighting a losing battle. They made a valiant stand, but they were never going to be able to hold forever.
Ranks of black carapaced soldiers march toward you. Their forces seem almost endless, with lines of scowling Dersites holding ebony spears and waving black flags. A legion on horseback trots on the right flank, and giant black ogres stomp along on the left. It’s hard to see at this distance, but you’re pretty sure you can make out a tall figure with four arms directing the horde.
GREG: Okay, Steve. Take charge.
STEVE: Right. Tiff, you had a fraymotif you thought would work here?
TIFFANY: Uh-huh.
She closes her eyes, pulls her crimson hood over her head, and then activates her SIGHT SOSTENUTO.
TIFFANY: I can see…
TIFFANY: Everything!
STEVE: Okay, stay near the back and keep us posted. If you see attacks incoming, tell us where to dodge. Anyone hears word from Tiffany, that takes priority.
STEVE: Try not to get into fights, but if you see an opening, don’t be afraid to take it. Just remember, your eyes are our most valuable resource.
TIFFANY: Okay!
She pulls out her Toxic Truncheon and steps back to a safe position.
STEVE: Steph, Greg, you’re our best frontline. With your weapons you can deal with lots of enemies quickly.
GREG: Correct.
STEVE: I’m putting you both out in the center. Our ultimate goal is to clear a path to the king, but don’t overextend. Stay close to where the rest of us can support you.
STEPHANIE: Got it.
She scrolls the dial on her paintbrush, trailing a rainbow through the air. Greg flicks his wrist, and a blade covered in serrated teeth slides out of his sleeve.
STEVE: James, you’re on the left. Those giants are the biggest threat. Once they’re down, we can make a play for the king.
JAMES: Sweet. I love big guys. There’s more to hit.
STEVE: …Somehow I always knew.
JAMES: Woah, no!
STEVE and JAMES: Not that there’s anything wrong with that!
He cracks his knuckles and takes up his position.
STEVE: Liz, you’re our backup. Keep us patched up, and watch for anything that makes a break for Tiff.
ELIZABETH: Understood. I made sure to stock up on bandages and ointments. We’re well prepared.
Her fingers run over the heavy tome before she tucks it away and clasps them in prayer.
STEVE: I’ll take the ones on the right. My staff has the best range to deal with the horses.
TIFFANY: Um. I know they’re evil and stuff, but can you try not to hurt them?
STEVE: …I’ll see what I can do.
You roll your shoulders and shift your weight to a defensive stance. Archimedes’ Worldmover spins between your fingers.
STEVE: Anybody got any last words?
ELIZABETH: May our Heavenly Father watch over us.
JAMES: Hold my beer and watch this shit?
STEVE: Alright, screw it.
STEVE: LEEEEEEEROY!
STEVE: JEEEEEEENKINS!
Your staff snaps out, cracking against black heads as you take to the air. It spins in your hands, turning away spear thrusts and unseating riders, and you lash out with kicks at anyone foolish enough to get close. The staff is a blur in your hands – it arcs around, and again, π radians to smash an exposed arm, 3π/2 to intercept a spear. Sine! Cosine! Tangent!
Behind you, Liz opens her book and performs the BOLSTERING BATTLEHYMN. Her voice rings clear over the carnage, and your muscles burn with new strength. Whirling the staff in a protective sweep to the front, you perform your ACTUALIZED ARPEGGIO. A fierce pink aura bursts from your body, and your staff slams a rider so hard he flies backwards like a rocket, clearing a swath in his wake.
You kick yourself higher into the air, barely avoiding the blade that scythes through what would have been your stomach. The bearer gets a face full of marble for his trouble.
On your left, Greg flashes across the fight, his TELEPORTAMENTO letting him be everywhere at once. The roar of his chainblade drowns out the shouts from his foes. He’s tearing through their forward line, barely visible as more than a ghostly afterimage before reappearing to cut down more soldiers.
You crack another rider, kicking him off his horse and landing on the saddle. The beast lets out a terrified scream and bolts, barreling through its brethren and breaking the disciplined charge. Another ACTUALIZED ARPEGGIO, and your superstrength strikes scatter the cavalry. You perform an acrobatic pirouette off the saddle, landing in a solid stance to intercept what stragglers remain.
The air crackles as Stephanie’s CHROMATIC CRESCENDO bursts into bloom. Dersites panic as they are simultaneously ignited, frozen, and electrocuted. Her firm strokes etch symbols through the air, and beams of light and shadow rip through their lines. They try to flee, only to find that their escape routes have suddenly vanished.
You yank your focus back to your side of the battle. The knight you had unseated charges, his lance lowered and locked at your chest. Master Robinson’s words echo in your head, and you pivot on the balls of your feet, letting his momentum carry him off balance. He stumbles past you to sprawl at Liz’s feet. She gives him a disapproving glare before bashing him on the head with her book.
TIFFANY: Greg! James needs help!
Far off to the side, James tumbles head over heels backwards. The ogre he was fighting winds up for another haymaker. Instantly, Greg appears to grab James by the shoulder, and they vanish. The air over the ogre pops, and James drops fist-first into its massive face.
The giant beast teeters over, crushing a platoon of footsoldiers under its bulk.
Splintered ranks part, and the Black King advances. He must be fifteen feet tall – smaller than an ogre, but somehow much more imposing. Even the corset around his chest doesn’t detract from his menace. Through silver glasses he glares at you, and he cracks the knuckles on all four hands. You can see the golden RING OF ORBS SIXFOLD on one finger. He hands his back staff, tipped with the globe of Skaia, to an underling and steps forward.
You AGGRESS, staff jabbing at his muscular chest. He ACCEPTS the blow, which bounces harmlessly off. His meaty fist crashes into your temple, flinging you backward and blurring your vision. As you stagger to your feet, he ASSAULTS you with a two-fisted hook, and you fly back again.
Your head crashes into Liz’s ankles, and she pulls you up. Her hands rub something on your forehead, and your double-vision collapses to normal.
STEVE: Ow…
TIFFANY: Steve! Liz! Look out!
The king lowers his shoulder and charges, pounding across the checkered ground. You shove Liz aside as he barrels into you, the wind violently shoved from your chest as he carries you off. Feebly, you whack at his spiky hair before he grabs your shirt and slams you into the ground.
Through the spots in your eyes, you can see her start to move toward you before another squad intercepts her. Your hand waves her away, and you throw a kick at the king’s knee. He simply sidesteps and lets out a monstrous laugh before planting another fist in your gut.
You grab his shoulder and try slamming your forehead into his face.
He sends you flying with another hook, and you crumple into a heap when you land.
Your legs don’t seem to want to support your weight.
His steps are slow, patient as he rounds in on you. The black staff of Derse looks heavy in his hands.
He raises it over his head, a triumphant smirk on his face.
Liz’s song fills your bones, and your SOUL SYMPHONY flood your body with power. As the king swings the staff down, you catch it in a glowing hand. The look of surprise on his face is beautiful when you tear it from his grip. You whirl it around, feeling the balance, and grip it just below the center of mass.
The globe shatters over the king’s head, and he falls.
The song fades, and the power that kept your legs working drains away. You fold up, collapsing just as she arrives. Her hands grab you under your arms, and she pulls you back to your feet. The healing power restores you enough to keep you upright.
As the Derse army beats a hasty retreat, your friends pull back to gather around you.
You stare at the black staff, broken beyond repair, and at the black army soundly defeated.
STEVE: We won!
TIFFANY: We won!
JAMES: YEAH!
You find your friends’ arms around you, and you pull them in. Laughs and shouts bellow across the broken plains as you seize each other in comforting embrace. Greg slaps you on the back, and Stephanie yanks you away for a breathtaking kiss.
STEVE: We won!
STEVE: WE WON!
