101
Part I of VI
Written in a Den
“Huff. Huff. Huff. *cough, cough* Huff…”
* * * *
Dalaam Prefecture
--Just outside the Kingdom of Onett
‘THIP’
That was the quiet sound a figure dressed entirely in black made as he leapt from one branch and landed on another. Other than the camouflage of night, the sword on his back was the best ally he had at the moment.
Slowly, he looked up at his distant target, watching as the great island of Dalaam floated so far away. Before he could get dizzy, he looked back down at his means of reaching the island—a small hovercraft, parked not too far from where he was perched.
Not too long after that, the craft’s pilot—a worker from Dalaam dressed in uniform—began walking back to the vehicle, having finished up his ground duties. Having no idea he was being watched, the man got in the vehicle as usual and started it up.
There was a rustling in the trees on his side.
The man turned suddenly. Nothing was there.
He looked back at the small menu on the computer screen built into his vehicle, setting it so that the craft would move.
Then, via the screen’s reflection, he saw someone getting closer. The pilot reached for his blade.
Too late.
The ninja dropped into the backseat and clamped a hand over the worker’s eyes with one arm, while bringing the now-drawn sword over the worker’s throat with the other. “Don’t scream. There are people trying to get some sleep around this village, and Dalaam’s too far up for any of your friends to hear you.”
“Wha…what do you want?” asked the worker in a serious tone.
“Is King Poo home tonight?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try again,” the blade pressed harder.
“He is. He is!”
“How many guards are on duty up there?”
“I don’t know! I really don’t. Listen, man--”
“Shut up,” said the blonde-haired boy. “Take a guess: 5? 10? How many?”
“…I won’t say anything else. I’ll die first.”
“Oh great, here we go with the honor crap.” The ninja slammed the hilt into the man’s head and shoved him out of the craft. Seconds later, a boy named Picky pulled a mask over his head, completing the dark attire, and started the vehicle he had stolen on its way. The craft ascended, carrying him to Dalaam.
Back on the ground, the worker pulled out a cell phone and started dialing frantically. Someone up in Dalaam could hear his voice a moment later: “This is D-380! Code 7! Code 7! You’ve got an enemy on his way up there right now! Repeat: A ninja just stole my craft and is heading up there now!”
It didn’t take long for this warning to spread throughout Dalaam’s security. It took even less time for the random orders and replies to begin.
“Get some extra security around the prince.”
“He’s the king now.”
“Right. I, I gotta get used to it.”
“All of you, to the landing area! Now, now, now, now!”
“Weapons ready!”
The craft continued its ascent.
More and more and more guards gathered to greet it. A few people who were awake in Dalaam noticed some sort of activity outside, seeing a lot of security members running past their windows and hopping down toward the landing area.
Moments later, someone sleeping in the biggest building on the island received a more direct alert. The voice came through an intercom.
“Highness? This is D-391. Highness, can you hear me?”
His eyes opened and he pushed himself off the pillow.
“Highness?”
“I’m listening.”
“We’ve got a situation.”
“What kind?”
“An intruder, on his way here as we speak. A few of us are coming up to your room till this is resolved.”
“…Fine.” The young king named Poo swung his legs out of bed.
Several soldiers of Dalaam began running up a long, wide, carpeted ramp, which twirled as they reached the middle. Along the way, they passed several pictures of former kings and queens. The ramp led to a simple opening that led to a large room that covered the entirety of the palace’s top floor. This was the king’s room. And standing at the ready was the king, shirtless and holding a sheathed sword by his white jeans.
The soldiers halted in surprise.
The king lifted his head. “Let’s go.”
They parted, following as he marched down the ramp at their center.
“What happened?” asked Poo.
“Highness, we got a call from D-380 saying that a ninja had taken his craft.”
“A ninja?”
“Yes. This intruder also asked specifically about you. Therefore, I have to advise that putting yourself out like this--”
“Noted. When’s the craft getting here?”
As the vehicle neared the landing area, Picky sat a weapon down on the seat next to his.
Several other weapons were being held by soldiers near an edge of Dalaam as the craft they were all watching slowed to a stop.
The eyes of many citizens were now watching from windows.
Poo had stopped at one of his own windows on the second floor, flanked by the guards as they looked on with him from the distant palace.
The grips on the hilts down by the landing area tightened. One couldn’t exactly see through or over the craft’s tinted windows, but the roof of the vehicle was still wide open.
All eyes watched it. Seconds passed. Silence prevailed.
Suddenly, a masked figure in black leapt from the top of the craft, soaring forward over the small crowd and flipping as he went.
Heads turned.
At some point before the graceful maneuver finished, Picky pressed a button on a small device in his right hand, and the weapon he had left in the passenger’s seat exploded—taking the entire vehicle with it.
The force of the blast scattered and dazed every soldier who’d gathered around, putting them out of commission for the time being.
Picky finished his aerial somersault and landed on the island of Dalaam, soon standing up from a kneeling position.
Poo looked on from the palace. “This guy thinks he’s good or something.”
Picky drew his sword once again, figuring he’d steal another craft during the escape, just as three more guards were running down a nearby road. After pressing a button near the hilt, a red aura of energy slowly enveloped the blade. The drawback to this technology was that the aura nullified the sharpness of the weapon, making it extra difficult to kill. The advantage was that in this state, the sword packed a lot more power, giving even a “weaker” person little cause to worry about strength.
“HAAA…” a soldier raised a sword and brought it down.
The masked boy blocked, then, countered with a swing of his own. The soldier was sent a few yards away, clutching his torso in pain.
Another came. Picky spun and slammed his heel against the man’s jaw, sending him down.
The third jabbed with the point of his weapon, but Picky dodged and used an upward swing to stun his latest opponent.
Three more soldiers of Dalaam were now lying in a dazed state. The intruder who had put them in it flipped up to a higher level of land, and charged his way to the palace.
“Okay, that’s it,” said a guard on the second floor, speaking into a cell phone. “I want Level 1 security outside now.”
They were already on their way.
As Picky jumped up on the palace grounds and began running towards the building, several archers formed a line not far from the entrance. They readied their arrows and pulled back on their bows.
Picky threw a few spheres into the air while running.
The archers hesitated as the balls landed around them. Smoke of some sort popped up like water from sprinklers, and the soldiers didn’t take long to start coughing and covering their eyes. All began falling.
“Shut the gates!” yelled someone inside.
Two mechanical doors at the front entrance began slowly drawing towards each other.
Picky deactivated the aura around his sword as he ran.
The doors continued.
Picky sped up, leaving the archers behind.
The doors were nearly shut.
Picky slid…and made it, closing his eyes just as his body entered the palace.
The thud behind him finished echoing through the hall.
Upstairs, all the guards with Poo got about as serious as serious gets. They were watching on a monitor, via the camera that was pointing at Picky in the hall.
A head guard spoke. “Everybody stays right here. Cut the lights…cut the lights.”
Picky’s surroundings downstairs suddenly got a lot darker. Not dark enough to keep him from seeing, and not quite dark enough to keep him from being seen, either.
“Soon as he comes up here…” said that guard again.
Poo watched quietly, a less confident expression on his face.
Downstairs, Picky stumbled around, swinging his head back and forth.
Everyone upstairs stayed quiet, clutching their weapons like never before.
Slowly, Picky approached a staircase. Then, he began running towards it upon being a little more certain.
“…What’s he…?” another guard said.
Poo’s jaw lowered a little.
Someone else spoke up. “Oh…crap!”
“He’s not here for me,” said Poo.
Picky was running downstairs.
“He’s after the Sound Stone.”
The guards tore out of the room and charged the first floor. The young king was about to follow them…but then he remembered something about himself. Calmly, Poo began concentrating.
Nearly halfway down into the grounds of Dalaam was the palace’s basement. While running through a hall not unlike those of a certain tomb far away, Picky finally spotted the room he had come looking for, seeing a faint glow inside. But this room was blocked by a strong glass window and locked door. Picky activated the sword again.
Seconds later, glass shattered, and Picky stepped through the frame. Once again, he saw a faint light coming from something sitting on a podium.
This podium was the resting place of the Sound Stone—a legendary relic that few people were supposed to even know the location of.
Picky rushed forward.
And from around a nearby corner stepped King Poo, sword now drawn.
The boy in black stopped.
Poo stared, waiting for his opponent to make the first move.
“…Great,” said Picky. “I was so hoping you’d be away on business tonight, but I heard you were here a little earlier.”
Poo didn’t respond.
“How’d you even get in here?” asked Picky. “There a back door?”
“Teleportation,” the king smirked a little. “I’ve found that a short-range works inside.”
“Ah, yes…powers. That’s why I was hoping to avoid having to do this!” Picky charged.
Without hesitation, Poo lifted the sword up by his shoulder and threw it straight ahead.
A swing from Picky’s sword knocked it away, and he continued on his violent path. “Haaaa…!”
The shine of a red glow came across Poo as the sword neared.
The guards were coming down the steps when they saw a flash from down the hall.
Shocked, they rushed ahead faster than ever.
When they arrived, they saw glass shattered, two swords on the floor…and Picky, lying near one of them—having been blasted into near-unconsciousness by PSI Thunder.
The men looked around.
Poo retrieved his sword, straightened himself up, and walked over to the Sound Stone. “You gentlemen can handle things from here, I trust?”
* * * *
“Huff. Huff…”
* * * *
The Kingdom of Twoson
--Inside the Castle
“So you’re sure about this?” asked someone in security.
“Radars don’t lie,” replied another. “Especially not one this extensive. It’s true. A ship is being readied for takeoff over there. A battleship. Why would Onett need to take a battleship into Winters? Winters is right between them and us; it’s not far enough to need this kind of vehicle.”
“…”
“Their closest neighbor after Dalaam and Winters is Twoson. That ship just might be coming here.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know,” he swung his gaze at the other man. “But not hearing anything from them makes me nervous enough to get ready.”
“Should…should we wake the princess?”
“…No. That ship hasn’t left Onett just yet. Let’s stay up and wait till it does. Then we’ll ask her what to do.”
* * * *
The People’s Land of Winters
--A mansion on a hill
The next day had come and the sun was busily melting the snow away, exposing the vast green fields and uncovered villages that revealed what the “normal” land of Winters looked like.
Knock-knock-knock-knock…knock-knock
“Andonuts!” called a police officer at the mansion’s twin doors. He turned to his rookie partner, “See, pay attention to this,” said Captain Strong. “The longer he takes to answer the door, the more likely he is to be guilty.”
“Sir. Yes, sir.”
Strong grinned, then turned back to the door, pounding on it. “Andonuts! This is the police! I’d better get an answer here!” He slammed on the door repeatedly again.
“Maybe, maybe no one’s home, Captain.”
“Think about it, son. This is not just a home, this is the most profitable business around. Chances are today’s not one of their ‘off’ days…if they ever have any.”
“Maybe we should’ve called first.”
“No. No special treatments for anybody.” Strong pounded on the door again. “Andonuts! If I have to, I’ll--”
Click
One of the doors began opening.
Strong’s hand lowered. Seconds later, his eyebrows did the opposite.
Standing there was a teenage girl in a long gray dress. She had short brown hair, the bottom of it pointing away from both sides of her chin. Her calm green eyes stared straight at Strong, carefully examining the face behind the loud voice.
“Uh…” the captain mumbled.
The other officer spoke up. “Afternoon, ma’am. We’re looking for--”
Strong cut in, “Jeff Andonuts. Where is he? I’d like to have a look around and then have a little word with him.”
“Do you have a warrant?” the girl replied.
“…No. No, I don’t. But if you have nothing to hide then that shouldn’t be a problem.”
She stepped back, pulling the door with her. “Come on in.”
The inside of the mansion, at least on this level, looked sort of like the inside of a castle, complete with a stone floor and a wide, carpeted stairway in the distance. But between that stairway and the one leading up to the front doors, there was a big lower level full of cubicles, computers, and workers who slowly went back to chatting about business and various other things.
The young woman had her back to the officers as she led them down the stairs. “Mind if I ask what this is about?”
“Guess you haven’t yet heard of the disturbances out there,” replied Strong.
“Does that mean there’s some sort of evidence that’s led you here?”
“Actually yes, it does.”
“…I’ll see if I can find Jeff.” She moved away, leaving the busy room.
As the officers waited, several random announcements were called out across the floor.
“Another sale! That’s 998. Within the next 15 minutes you’ll be treating me to lunch.”
“Shut up.”
“HEY! Excuse me! Anyone know the address for--”
“Ask questions via e-mail for cryin’ out loud…dang newbies.”
“Someone’s wondering what our cheapest PC sells for.”
“I’ve got one user asking if we sell Bottle Rockets. Do we?”
After about two minutes of waiting, the officers saw an elevator door open way off to the side. The girl had returned, and she wasn’t alone.
He ran ahead, wearing a sweatshirt over pants and black boots. “Gentlemen? Gentlemen, I…ha, ha, I’mmm sorry I kept you waiting. I was working downstairs and didn’t know I had guests. Jeff Andonuts. Nice to meet you,” he extended his hand.
Strong ignored it.
The rookie quickly stepped forward and shook it, feeling a tad embarrassed.
“Heh…” Jeff adjusted his glasses with his free hand while eyeing Strong.
Afterwards, Strong introduced himself and spoke. “Do you know why I’m here, son”
Jeff smiled. “Um…why are you here?”
Strong continued, “Do you know what I was doing all night?”
“Were you…at home? ‘Cause I’m not sure I want--”
“Shut up, kid,” said Strong.
The rookie giggled, then straightened up and put on a serious face when Strong looked.
The captain continued. “There’ve been a string of random attacks out there by some sort of…living robots. People have started calling them ‘Starmen’ for now.”
Jeff looked a little more serious.
“Now, the problem with finding out just where they’re coming from is that most tend to simply fade into nothingness once they’ve taken too much damage. But we managed to capture and study one not too long ago.”
“…And?”
“And, the material we’ve discovered in them—about half of what they’re made up of—seems an awful lot like this ‘technology’ that composes most of your products.”
“Just what are you getting at here, sir?” Jeff crossed his arms.
“You’re a smart boy, Andonuts. Don’t ask stupid questions.”
“Look,” said Jeff, “I don’t know what…I don’t know exactly what you’re thinking, sir, but…” he giggled, “this is a clean business here. Always has been. It’s brought computers and the Internet and helpful household appliances to the world.”
“Is that so?” asked Strong. “If I’d found a chip in that thing’s head, I think I would’ve traced the—what do you call it?—data back to you. But it actually had a brain up there. Not a human one, though.”
“Well, that should exonerate me, right?” Jeff grinned. “Here, we’re all about technology, not weaponry.”
A voice called out again, “So we do have Bottle Rockets in stock? Thanks! I’m up to 951!”
Strong turned back to Jeff.
“Uh…” Jeff chuckled a little while making a face.
The captain turned and walked off. “I’ll be back, Andonuts. And when that happens, I’ll have a search warrant. I’m going to prove that you’re behind this one.”
The rookie followed along.
Their host saw them out. “Right. Gotcha. But, gentlemen, everything you see here is honestly a solid representation of what this company…” Jeff kept talking as he walked up the steps leading to the platform around the front doors.
Moments later, when he was sure that the two members of the Winters Police Department had left, he turned from the entrance and addressed the crowd. “Can I have everyone’s attention please?”
They all stopped what they were doing.
“Thank you,” said Jeff. “We’re…going to close up shop early today. Everyone can go home. You’ll still get a full day’s pay. And actually—wait, hold on—actually, take the day off tomorrow, too. Those of you scheduled to work will be compensated for it. I’ve…got some stuff to figure out.”
A dark shadow was sweeping over the building.
* * * *
Castle Twoson
--A large room on the second floor
A guard has walked up the steps and entered the starting point of the shady room. Separating him from the rest of it is a long silk curtain spread out from one wall to the other. Far behind it, he sees the silhouette of a young woman, sitting in a chair by a corner.
She’s wearing a pink gown and a matching ribbon. Her elbows are resting on the arms of the chair, and the tips of her fingers are touching just in front of her mouth. She doesn’t greet him. She doesn’t smile.
It’s just not that kind of day.
Instead, she listens.
“Princess…it’s now very likely that the ship in the air will be stopping here…and it’ll get here soon.”
“…”
“There’s only one kind of ship that moves and looks like that. We’re about to be attacked.”
“Have you tried contacting it again?” her serious voice was barely audible from where she sat.
“Still no response.”
“What about the kingdom?”
“The same.”
“…”
“Highness, I imagine it’s been hard for you…but with your father gone, you are the one who must decide what Twoson will do in a situation like this. We’re all awaiting your instructions.”
“…Prepare skyfire. The moment they’re going to attack, launch an anti-air strike.”
“Yes, Highness.”
“And have ground troops waiting just incase something goes wrong with that.”
“The ground troops are already assembled. We were just awaiting your word.”
“Well played,” she said.
“Shall I call for our reserves in Peaceful Rest Valley?”
“…No. They’re still trainees. Let’s try leaving this to experienced people.”
“I’ll go get everyone into position at once. You should be able to view us from your window, Highness. We’ll all make you and our kingdom proud.” He exited, causing the curtain to ruffle a bit with the swiftness of his movement.
A moment later, the young woman stood up. “Watch you from the window…” She scoffed. “I really don’t think so.”
With that said, Princess Paula yanked a ribbon off and pulled the gown up over her head, leaving her with just a certain couple of undergarments as the finest combed hair in all the land got very messy, very fast.
* * * *
“Huff…Huff.”
* * * *
Winters
--The Mansion
All of the workers had left. Jeff was inside, standing on the platform by the front entrance, looking out as the last of them rode away on horseback.
Standing with him was the girl who’d greeted the officers earlier. She pressed a button on a small device. Quickly, a mechanical wall began sliding down over the opening, covering the space in front of the doorway. After the wall was finished, Jeff pushed the two wooden doors closed as well. She sat the device down, and they both turned, walking down towards the elevator.
“Oh, boy…” said a nervous Jeff. “This cannot be happening.”
They entered, instructing it to take them downstairs.
He continued in a low tone. “This can’t be…what I hope it’s not.”
“Could be that it isn’t,” she replied. “The kingdom you’ve most recently had dealings with was…?”
“Onett.”
The car continued on its way.
Jeff glanced up, feeling guilty. “All I did was sell them the technology. Same as Dalaam. Same as anyone else. I knew there could come a time when someone used that technology the wrong way…but Onett? I never figured…”
“So, if it is them, do you suppose they’re purposely sending these weapons…these ‘Starmen’ out to attack people?”
“…I can’t see what the point would be.”
The elevator stopped and the door opened. Both teens entered a basement full of high-tech equipment. Most of it was intended for non-violent use, but some of it could indeed be manipulated in the wrong hands. None of the assembled weaponry down there was for sale. Not even the Bottle Rockets, actually.
Jeff continued, “I think it’s more like whoever’s been creating these things is trying to create an army of them, and they’ve possibly lost control of a few in the process.”
She gently pulled a lock away from one of her ears, considering that theory.
“I don’t know for sure that this…this army of robots they’re amassing—if that’s the case—was the result of this technology,” said Jeff, probably in denial. “And even though it was Onett I’ve recently done business with, there’s no evidence on the table to suggest that its them and not someone else behind this.” Jeff noticed something on a monitor after he said that—something that looked like a flying ship, leaving Winters behind as it continued on its way. “Lucy…”
She turned, seeing what he saw.
They entered the elevator again, heading for a high floor. Meanwhile, Jeff was trying to come up with all sorts of possibilities that could explain why things weren’t the way they were looking to be.
They entered and walked across a more elegant-looking room. Two more doors opened automatically as they approached, followed by a gust of wind. The Grand Balcony was quite a spectacle itself—another castle-like structure about the width of a small road and extending around a far corner of the house, where it continued a little farther. Jeff and Lucy walked along it, seeing nothing but clouds as their eyes searched the sky.
“…Over there,” she said after a few moments.
Jeff turned around. He recognized the vehicle in the air, even from this distance. “It’s…it’s an Onett-owned battleship,” he said with quiet confirmation.
The wind blew both teens’ hair around.
He continued, “The evidence…the timing…it can’t all be coincidence now. They took what I gave them, and used it to build a little extra military power.” His gaze was still forward. “But why? Who is Onett going to attack?”
* * * *
Twoson
--Right outside the Castle
It wasn’t much later when that very same vehicle began slowing down, not too far away from the castle, and barely above it.
Just about everyone currently enrolled in Twoson’s army—trainees excluded—was standing out there, decorating the large field with courage, honor, and more importantly, weapons to back both up.
The shadow that followed the craft around had nearly reached all of them, inching forward with every second as blades of grass dragged along with it.
The people living in the villages close by had received a warning to stay inside, and right now, anyone who’d decided to defy it had changed their mind. The sound of a large, beautiful waterfall nearby was about the only sound heard in Twoson—other than the hovering ship’s movement.
Silence hung over the crowd.
The battleship moved closer and closer.
A weapon was drawn down below…followed by a few more, several others, and so forth.
The ship continued.
Three of the swords at the front row were raised together…then swung down together.
…And that was just what certain people elsewhere had been waiting to see.
Large blasts of blue energy suddenly fired from the top of the castle, leaving cannons and entering the nearby ship.
The warriors of Twoson pulled back.
Parts of the ship began bursting into flame, as large holes that weren’t previously there became visible.
Seconds later, it happened again. A few more shots of skyfire tore through the enemy vessel, which began falling from the air in quite a mess.
The craft landed and the explosion came. Everyone in the field had naturally gotten down by then.
As they stood, they saw what was left of the ship lying far from their position.
Silence again hung over the crowd.
“…Okay…” someone finally said. “That wasn’t too bad.”
A weapon was put away…followed by a few more, several others, and so forth.
Just then the group found out why it’s never really a good idea to say that.
Something materialized in the gap between them and the ship. It was a silver being with its hands on its hips. The eyes of this thing glowed an eerie red.
More arrived this way—having apparently done the same before the assault—and more after that, and the process went on and on until there were about twice as many Starmen as humans.
A bit slower this time, the warriors of Twoson drew their swords…and charged.
Most of the Starmen up front reacted by extending an arm and firing a beam. All of the men and women targeted dodged these projectiles, and continued running.
The Starmen raised both arms this time, and this time the soldiers they aimed at weren’t able to avoid the shots. As they fell to the green ground, they discovered that their armor had succeeded in protecting their lives…but most were in too much pain to be overly grateful at the moment. The beams the Starmen fired were still strong enough to be felt.
Several people came and stood above the ones on the ground, and seconds later, several arrows flew forward in retaliation. The surprised Starmen were soon falling themselves with short sticks pointing out of their chests.
As the people at the cannons wouldn’t risk hitting their own, they abandoned their posts and ran to join everyone else.
The battle began to spread out across the field.
A pony-tailed woman with a katana lifted the blade above her shoulder and made a hard diagonal swing…only to find that the air was all she’d hit, as the Starman had disappeared. She looked puzzled, then searched her nearby surroundings. Pretty soon, she found what she was looking for, and ran and swung again. The same thing happened, only this time, the woman called out in pain as a beam struck her in the back.
Several Starmen elsewhere concentrated their shots on the stump of a nearby tree…until it finally fell, knocking down a few surprised soldiers in the process. As the soldiers remained still and quiet afterwards, the Starmen picked the tree up just under its branches, while a few others gathered at the other end and lifted it from that side. A moment later they began running into the fray.
The soldiers from the castle turned their heads—not soon enough—and saw that a monument they were so fond of was being used as a weapon against them. They soon did a lot more feeling than seeing, as the Starmen carrying the tree bowled over countless members of the defense’s army on their way, sending swords in the air and bodies to the ground.
From one of the large windows above, an amazing spectacle caught a few people’s attention. A bridge of what looked like ice began to form in the air, starting at the sill and reaching down towards the ground, curving a little as it went.
All of a sudden, the fighting began to slow down a bit as those who were standing took notice, watching in more and more awe.
The bridge stopped its extension, sitting not too high above the field.
Everyone had ceased fighting now.
Up at the window, a boot stuck out, testing the platform…and a moment later, Princess Paula stepped up and came sliding down, wearing fantastic pink armor and a sword at her back. The wind blew through her unadorned hair, and she didn’t seem nervous at all, looking like a confident surfer as she adjusted to the turn, continued on her path, skidded off the edge, glided through the air…and slammed her extended foot into a Starman who’d been too impressed by this display to consider moving.
The enemy flew onto its back, and Paula landed gracefully a few yards away. She pulled out her sword and pointed it at the sky, looking upwards as she spoke. “Warriors of Twoson…stand up!” As she said this, two powerful bolts of thunder arrived on both sides of the horizontal tree, blowing the Starmen who’d been holding it into the air. They didn’t move again; they actually began to fade away after hitting the ground.
Their morale increased, the men and women of Twoson listened to their leader and continued the attack, fighting off pain as best they could for the time being.
The tips of swords impaled the strange beings invading the kingdom. Punches and kicks were thrown as beams were dodged. Yet all the while, more and more soldiers began falling, too hurt or tired to continue as time flowed.
Paula pulled the sword up over her head and swung it down, nearly splitting the Starman she’d just struck in half.
The yells and cries of soldiers in pain could be heard every minute. The Starmen still had the advantage in numbers. A few of the ones Paula had frozen with another display of her mystical ice were being cut down by allies.
She turned, just in time to avoid a beam heading towards her. In response, she ran towards the Starman who’d fired it.
He fired again.
Paula moved while continuing her charge.
Another beam came. This one slid right by the princess’ head, cutting her skin and tearing through her hair as it went.
Paula’s teeth gritted as she made a face in angry pain, but still continued and still managed to shoulder-tackle the Starman against a nearby tree.
“Huff. Huff. Huff…” the sound came from the woods close by.
Paula pulled her sword to the Starman’s neck, pinning its back to the tree as she secured its shoulder with her other hand. Blood ran down the young ruler’s face, and her eyes were full of fury.
The Starman twitched.
“Who?” asked the angry girl.
“Huff. Huff. Huff,” the sound still came from the upper woods nearby.
“Who in Onett sent you here?” demanded Paula. “Who gave the order? Was it the Court?”
The Starman squirmed, feeling pain from the blade.
“Speak!” Paula pressed it even harder.
The suffering enemy answered, “…Q…Queen, Tracy…”
“Princess Tracy?”
“…Queen Tracy…”
Paula paused, not saying anything for a moment.
Suddenly, the Starman felt the sword on its neck getting warmer…then hotter. It squirmed in pain as the blade turned orange under Paula’s touch…until its head fell off when the sword cut all the way through.
“Huff…Huff…Huff,” the sound continued.
Princess Paula stood up straight, holding the blade she’d channeled her power through by he side. “AH!” she suddenly felt another beam strike from behind, bringing her to her knees as the sword dropped from her hand. She growled in frustration, looking around down there and seeing so many of her soldiers lying in pain.
“…Huff…H…” the sound quieted.
A spear struck through the chest of the Starman who’d attacked Paula, and the girl who’d put it there soon bent down. “Princess? Are you all right?”
Paula moaned in anger again as she accepted the help standing up.
“Princess!” the girl cried. “Up there! Look!”
Paula’s gaze rose. Hers wasn’t the only one.
In the distance, standing on a cliff above the field, just outside the woods up there, was a young man with short, flowing black hair, and a very, very tired look underneath. He wore a long-sleeved striped shirt over his blue pants and black shoes.
The girl with Paula spoke. “The…the Prince of Onett. Isn’t that him?”
Paula’s mouth opened a little as she stared in confusion.
Suddenly, the prince’s eyes widened, and on his command, a wide, brilliant blast of colorful energy shot down into the field and enveloped a large group of Starmen. The force of such an attack produced a small explosion that caused everyone in the battle to turn away covering their heads. No one’s attention could possibly be on anything else at the moment. The sound quieted, the smoke cleared, and none of the targets had survived.
The humans down there hadn’t been hit by the blast, but the ones who were awake to see it were quite obviously amazed.
No one was more amazed right now, however, than the young man himself. Not because of his attack, but because it began to sink in just how far his legs had taken him while coming here…and that he’d finally made it.
Paula was still watching him along with everyone else.
He spotted her…and his eyes slowly closed as he rolled down the cliff in exhaustion, unconscious by the time he hit the grass.
His effort had been great…but it wasn’t enough. There were still more active Starmen than warriors of Twoson out there, and they were still attacking.
The girl with Paula spoke. “Where did Onett get these blasted things fr--AH!” she fell as a beam knocked her away from her companion.
The princess gripped her sword, soon retaliating with more Thunder. Another Starman fell, but that made little difference.
Paula stumbled out onto the field, hardly standing as she spun and summoned more blasts of Thunder. The recklessness of this—not focusing the attack—caused one of her own men to scream out in pain. “No!” shouted the princess.
The battle raged on.
Paula looked around, and began spinning in place. The violence swung with her gaze.
Beams flew.
She kept turning.
Swords rose.
She kept turning.
Screams quieted.
She kept turning.
The sun got in her eyes.
She kept turning.
Dizziness came over her.
She kept turning, until…
“…”
Princess Paula lifted her sword to the sky, then drove the point of it down into the ground, clinging to the hilt with both hands as she leaned and closed her eyes, hair falling over her face.
A Starman was about to fire again when it suddenly stopped, freezing in place.
Paula was concentrating harder than ever before.
The same thing happened to another Starman, and another, and another.
Like a series of locks suddenly snapping into place, one by one the strange creations were stunned still, as they felt their minds—one of the organic parts of their beings—slipping out of their control.
The soldiers who were still standing paused. Now, all of their enemies out there—all of them—had fallen under a wave of telepathic control, one that was stronger than anyone thought the princess could manage—including her.
Still clinging to the sword, Paula slowly opened her eyes.
In the next moment, every Starman suddenly disappeared, fading away via their own brand of teleportation—just as Paula had willed—and reappearing far on the other side of the castle…with nowhere to go but down as they fell along the great waterfall.
The Starmen were engulfed by the force and crushed against the rocks below, all disappearing via damage, mist, or the water that carried their growingly lifeless bodies.
Back by the castle grounds, the soldiers slowly put down their weapons, soon looking over at their leader.
“…” Princess Paula dropped to her knees, her head gently bumping into the sword as she sat there, falling unconscious as the sun began to set over Twoson…and the rest of the lands.