THE HARDEST: NEW MAN

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: dreamscape

Young man Zofewa works for his boss, a good but low paying job threatens to be unbearable when the boss' associate gives him hard work outside his purview. He is plagued by low self esteem. Then all that on the sidelines when three super humans arrive for his boss. Their goal to empower her as fate decrees - she will not submit.
Zofewa by accident or is it fate? Gets Herculean power from the what called the Megantereon intended for her. Much fighting ensues when he determined protecting her from the three.
11000 words.

In memory of -

Grandma Courtney Hunter Nae Jackson.

Rest easy now. Only met once on earth, nevertheless my memory of you stayed with me.

 

He’d arrived to the job. Rather out of the way for a mansion, isolated from the well-manicured, serene and dog rules following gated communities you’d expect a building of its status to adorn.

 

At the elegant front gate, pressed the bell button. Moments later opened. The other end verified the visitor through the camera on the wall. The young man went up to the elegant door, which as he reached unlocked with a click after a shorter moment. A second wall-cam. He pushed it open and steps inside.

 

Indoors is greeted by a fair skinned Caucasian woman, Humbrecht. A woman with a veil of caution. Her Negro employee De Wiart, made a respectful nod. Dressed in formal office attire, a next morning of clerk work began.

 

Preamble if you will was access to the none too shabby kitchen. An appliance or accessory supplier of kitchens, plenty of space to fit any brand in its expansive confines. Today he’ll have it light. Fixed up fibre rich orange juice and enjoyed at leisure sitting on a chair at the kitchen island. 

 

De Wiart slim, brown skinned Negro in his twenty’s with no big muscle to speak of. Hardly imposing at average height.

 

As he carried out his duty the day wore on. She climbs over a non-barbed wire fence section and went on to meet Humbrecht walking her mansion hall. Age nestled in the 20s and with her body could seduce Pan himself. Alluring intricately shaped light brown eyes, slender, shapely curves. A Negress with not black but red skin. Was something tough about her personality. The other woman pale skinned, a decade older, attractive in a plain way. Average bust, minimum makeup, hair wasn’t swinging like a shampoo commercial and dressed conservatively.

 

‘…no bodyguard K?’ Bonét was insisting.

‘Asking someone I know to utilize an empty room and if needed lend her strength not in the same pot.’

She hands in explanation for her presence, ‘Girls like me have a 0.0 percent chance to even walk under a roof like this. Only here cause cool hanging around the digs.’

‘My request a mark of trust.’

 

Bonét’s unspoken observation is since knowing this cat, doesn’t have any big staff to run the mansion, no not even Jeeves. Two chicks and a dude. Upper class parties held in its hall? Pfft. In fact takes a long ass trip to reach this out of the way mansion. Generally keeps to herself. Bonét knows enough clearly someone of status. What she hiding from?

 

Come lunch hour the man finds his way to the kitchen. The red skin from its entrance observes him.

 

She crosses over the fence to leave the grounds. Gates are for plebs. This hour day on the verge of wearing its night shawl, De Wiart long gone.

 

Reaching early required rising early. The man on this morning is at the gate and granted entry. Per established protocol, prepares a juice but a more filling meal to complement.

 

Now later in the morning, Bonét’s delectable form scrambles over the fence, enters the building through a window acutely as a burglar. Humbrecht is found in the plush study room and in light conversation Humbrecht begins, ‘Unfashionable to be late.’

 

Employee wasn’t in the job description,’ comes a reply firm and cheeky. She adds a contract only exists if both parties dance to one. The young woman shows a preference for fingerless gloves, complimented by jeans and jacket pressing on that feminine shape. Living observers can’t recall seeing her in a frilly dress. A sharp reflection of temperament.

 

In the past Bonét sometimes uncouth personality compared to a wild flower by at least to Humbrecht’s eye.

 

Humbrecht says didn’t mind her hanging around so why not? She speaks of the guest house – yesterday the guest room. This however didn’t exclude Bonét vacillating between. ‘Taking one…it’s like staying, that’s like bodyguard, a sweet honey trap.’ Not digging her heels in this time with an emphatic no, Bonét contented with visits meanwhile.

 

A young man’s hell begins. At his designated work position this Bonét came out her way to find him. Strongly suggests he leave and follow her. ‘Under whose authority?’ extent of his resistance.

 

He was working here before this lady even showed up. She didn’t order, had no place even so much as telling him. He complies.

 

A good bit of boxes he tasked with carrying up a flight of stairs from the bottom of it. His boss just leaves anything anyhow round the house Bonét says irked. That’s not all. Barely any rest before directed to a room and there by hand collapse many, many cardboard boxes. Bonét actually says he not to sit on the chair.

 

This, this wasn’t what I was hired for!

 

His job did not start out this way. Most of the day didn’t require anything arduous. Hardly meeting the boss practically removed anyone over his shoulder. Who, who is this woman?!

 

Bonét expects a ceiling fan dusted off and bush overgrown barbed wire on the fence cut. She’ll provide a ladder.

 

His anxiety blocked him till now. At long last he finds and speaks to Humbrecht outside near the manicured lawn. His boss slippery as a snake.

 

‘Not unexpected have to neaten the house time to time.’

‘Hire a housekeeper.’

 

So it went evading the big question. Not telling the woman back off.

 

Struck comparable to lightening. De Wiart thinks back ever since a kid he picked on. Even now at loss to figure out why. Not nearly enough would he put people in their PLACE. A fear in his body language people would pick up and advantage him. Especially where people in authority over him. Nowhere near a child trouble maker. He can remember, more precisely think he does, a barely visualized scene where an adult lady tells him raise his head, people will advantage him – hauntingly wished he paid heed.

 

One word would surely put Bonét in her place – this whole matter didn’t have to involve his boss. He can’t bring the words out his mouth. And comes to realization Bonét can do it because Humbrecht…

 

Reward for honest work. Oh why, WHY did do I have this self-esteem affliction?! He thought.

 

All this in the shadow of wages. Minimum wage, existed parts of the world working one hour was adequate to purchase a meal, this country wasn’t on the register. His working place a sight for the eyes, but covering expenses that does not make. 

 

Humbrecht promised 37 cents raise.

 

Day three, sky contains a risen and low sun, heralds early morning. Red skin made good on the fence. He began the afternoon. He’ll just cut a part daily. His mental curse didn’t let him fight back. 

 

Night. The lunar phase the Waning gibbous – a small fraction of the moon’s disk darkness shrouded in the corner. The property’s gate opened, forced by an invisible act. Soon enough two men accompanied by a woman approaching the door. Some distance from the giant door they halted, as if an unseen body pulls it clean off the hinges and flew several feet to crash audibly on the ground.

 

Elaborately attired, exuded an air outside the scope of the ordinary.

 

Humbrecht for her part was encouraged by the sound to run out the room she was in far from its source. Faster than outer looks suggested. Literally knocks on a door – and respectfully and urgently enters somehow. Bonét in a guest room so closer than the guest house.

 

The women are hustling, the ground floor’s richly adorned setting rush by. He a good ways behind standing this man. Rests a disc upon each shoulder that when stowed lie flat on the shoulder and float when ready to blast light. One floated several inches above the shoulder, discharging a yellow light beam aimed at an angle. The fellow vanished. The beam bounced off several points off the wall surface, its end terminating on the floor 20 odd feet in front the women. The man materialized there and the beam died out.

 

Light teleportation.

 

The women are stunned. ‘This way!’ says Humbrecht and pulls the girl to the side entrance. ‘A light user.’

 

Panting as they run and talk. Humbrecht elects to escape to a safe point in the mansion, Bonét doesn’t second the idea considering what she witnessed, ‘Reek of strength they do. Humbrecht, who in God’s name are you?’ She leans on escaping the mansion entirely.

 

They make their way through richly adorned surroundings leading outside. Under the moonlight the two others await a distance away. Feeling threatened, Bonét takes the woman’s hand and both are under a shimmer effect. Confuses the eye by distorted visual image, making her and what she contacts hard to hit. The light user teleported on scene nearby. Zap. Emerged a small pulse of light from a disc. The discomfort stops Bonét, dressing her visage in a puzzled look.

 

‘You don’t value your time.’ Humbrecht informs them.

‘You run from destiny.’ Pushed back the middle aged woman, Astrid.

‘Our lives must be dictated by free will.’

‘I’m not ashamed to say selfish to place the needs of the individual on a higher pedestal than the many.’

‘Who are we if we’re not true to ourselves?’

 

The second guy enters the non-debate. A futuristic sword on his back oddly without sheathe nor strap. ‘In the same way you want to be true to oneself, goes the same for our mission. Parallel road.’

 

Astrid opens a satchel, floating out of it and next hovering between the hands a crystalline object several inches below a foot in dimension and bared protuberances, attractive in look.

 

‘What in the hell?’ Bonét says in soft unease.

Light user answers, ‘Megantereon. Those enshrouded by fate are granted incredible power from it. Reality about a person is warped.’ The goal is not the usual sent by some dark overload cliché.

 

Astrid walks over, stopping in front a reluctant woman. Unquestionably something momentous coming.

 

De Wiart came along. He hadn’t left his usual time for some reason. Expecting to see just two women, he came hearing the door. ‘There was crash just now…’ Sight of peculiar strangers froze him cold.

 

Before his brain had time to formulate a question, Humbrecht with a hand knocked the object away, in the air it flew. The three are in bated breath. The Megantereon lands by De Wiart who instinctively picks it up. The object glows faint and immediately his body seized by tremors, next the protuberances shrunk to nothing.

‘This is the fate?’ light user perplexed.

 

The object floats away and the youth collapses. It reaches Astrid. De Wiart yells in pain. The three can’t be bothered with him and devote attention to Humbrecht.

 

Astrid acidly, ‘You truly an enemy of fate woman.’ Then to compatriots, ‘We have no more uses from the Megantereon for now.’

Faintly aglow, the item rose higher and higher into the sky till outside visual range.

‘Couldn’t have put it any more bummed Astrid,’ the sword wielder says dryly.

Light user got in her face, ‘Not going to save you. Under the circumstances we can take you along. Get to moving!’ she is roughly led by the arm as she walks, the grip of Bonét breaks. She’ll be left behind.

 

Gotten only a short way, the three fighters suddenly halt. The sixth sense yells something is off.

 

‘Unhand her cretin!’ from the youth’s direction. As he began standing an ongoing metamorphosis, the clothes begin tearing because muscles were growing, eyes glow a golden hue. He turned from five footer, one hundred plus pounder piss off over there to a 6.5 athletic, muscular physique exceeding two hundred pounds. His pants and shoes remain. Transformed his body is not Hulk or even Alois Schwarzenegger muscular instead a smaller toned sort of muscle. Physique is chiselled, well defined muscle. A man’s body.

 

The sword wielder, ‘Aw man his reality warped!’

Warns the light user, ‘Stand down.’

Confidence bulging like his muscle, ‘Humph, three bugs see themselves equalling a fly swatter. You’re talking to Zofewa de Wiart!’

 

Nobody backs down.

 

Explains the door. Astrid gestured with her hands and a number outdoor objects through mid-air, hurl towards and smash into Zofewa. Telekinesis – move objects by thought. Enough to stammer, not drop. Hovered a bench over his head and released the power. Gravity brought it right on his noggin.

‘Ticklish.’

Her response is the same kinesis at first. Some metal found its way to him. ‘APEIRON GEMYND’ – a target is bonded to things. Molecular bonding.

 

APEIRON is spoken triggering a strong attack. Metal forcefully in an instant bonded to flesh. Molecules not intended to intermix.

 

Bonét gasps.

 

His insides assaulted, Zofewa is unbalanced, ready to fall over. Expectation would kill the body. The youth in a while has the foreign object simply phase out of his body, absolutely bloodless and for showiness bends metal into a cute shape by bare hand.  

 

Sword user, ‘What am I seeing?’

 

The young man had no time to boast and Astrid no time for shock when a beam of yellow light strikes the former’s torso, emitting from a disc. This light beam emission meant to pierce what in contact. The youth held arms in front to try blocking. He is gradually walking backward from the intensity.

 

In no time three supernatural entities entered combat and that wasn’t all of them! In this space of time unthinkable feats erupt.

 

Zofewa’s feet stop. His open left palm the beam is supposed to pierce. Instead the beam with the palm one end and the emitting disc the other fell to the ground – solid rod. The noise the fall generated rivalled by collective gasp.

 

Light user, ‘Got your share of tricks.’

Physics and photons bent to this fellow – light a radiation perceived by the eye.  

 

The muscle man still holds powerful beings with this much regard. ‘You’re worthy of the mistress as an ant meeting a foot.’ Zofewa in a single bound dropped by Humbrecht. Before a countermove can reach him, had her in two muscular arms and leapt up and away into the sky. Eyes met, Humbrecht gave Bonét a forlorn look.

 

Stuff like that is bound to elicit discussion as happened later. Bonét nowhere to be found. Astrid, ‘Must fate be accepted when this skinny boy gets empowered?’ The light rod lay near.

 

Looking at the bright rod, the swordsman, ‘This fellow turned photon solid. Dangerous indeed. Megantereon rested with him extraordinary power.’

‘Mauritz,’ says Denearon, ‘My light simplistically called the fastest attack – it’s the fastest energy in the universe. Turning it solid is to slow down the photons and make them act as a single entity. The phenomenon has a name - solid light.Ictiokinesis, another name for anyone with power over light.

 

The sword shakes without Mauritz’s will, alarming him, who has to reach over the shoulder, grab the handle and apply strength to halt it.

 

At the hideout under natural rock outcrop, he held her in the arms. Humbrecht felt his firm muscle in parts of his arms and torso that contacted her body. The body heat warm. Above their heads tons and tons of rock. Outdoors landed them smack in the middle of nature.

 

Zofewa for his part feels poorly of the place because she called it hideout earlier. Hiding is beneath one of his majesty and unbefitting his mistress.

The two talk some more, or is it him? The Negro eyes are normal brown again and in comes his sexually charged side. Stuff like, ‘You and me will sire children perfect as myself.’ Or, ‘Whatever man you’ve met a pale imitation of me. Something drew us to be one lady Humbrecht.’ Acting as though she his.

 

She has to get the mental courage to get out his arms she resting in, lost their feeling of safety. He stands mightily, she sat on the cold, hard rock floor.

 

‘You want me?’ shocked and concerned. ‘That’s the Megantereon talking.’

‘Uncontested truth,’ folding his arms.

She’ll have to try some more. Detail is gone into what the hell happened – ‘The Megantereon was meant for me…forced upon me. Then because of me touched it. Your body and power a mental projection Zofewa. Anyone can have their reality warped.’

‘Fate granted me the strength and heart to advance your will. Proof our destinies intertwined.’ One way attraction so far.

‘Humph. There’s also the curse of fate.’ She a woman who swam against its tide. ‘More impressive is the extreme might you possess. How reality warps is not equal for all people Zofewa.’

Assuredly, ‘No force exists that can harm you now.’ 

 

It's clear despite his manner (brash, battle hungry and amorous) he is bound to be a defender. 

The night is passing quietly, the man says Bonét is ready to show, sure enough does, indicating he shared a sixth sense like the foe, ‘Gut feeling doesn’t do justice,’ Humbrecht half joking.

 

It explained she knew this a place Humbrecht would go to. The mansion wasn’t always enough isolation. Bonét asks to know what did she see back there. She is filled in on fate and warping. Her would be employer well in the know about the matter. The man’s normal self had deep down feelings and subconsciously delivered the woman. But Bonét’s mind felt something is missing.

 

He lowers his massive frame bending forward, bringing his face to Bonét’s and in a bluntly amorous gesture, ‘You a fine wench.’ At first confused her. The awkwardness lessens in a while when he straightens his back.

 

Bonét, ‘Why do they want you?’ this the missing piece.

 

‘Megantereon. Can should fate decree, bestow immense even near unfathomable power.’ Her index finger points at the guy. ‘Me I want to be master of my destiny, good or ill. I come from an important line qualifying me to be changed by it. Those three came a long way to grant me power to shape the lives of many, lead to betterment or seal their fates. I, I do not want to be levelled with that responsibility. Isolated myself in a mansion. Isolated myself some more trying to recruit you as bodyguard. Knew it would mix an innocent up in all this. Sorry.’

Bonét is contemplative in face and voice tone, ‘The supermen ain’t devils then…’

‘Act out of necessity they do…think me selfish?’

The girl remains quiet, still pensive.

 

Three are walking in the halcyon night. The three kept up a search and now pursuing in the vicinity. Everyone is still on Humbrecht’s property. Larger it was, harder for ordinary trespassers to find her, Humbrecht reasoned to begin with, determined the choice to settle here. And while it makes sense to hide, he once more displays his battle attitude and intends to go at it. The women justifiably horrified. This humble dude reminds not his nature to hide.

He churlishly or possessively, make your choice - puts his arms?round both women’s waists. Their expressions uneasy – means he wants both ladies?

 

The three walk a couple hundred feet distant and on somewhat lower elevation. To more protest, his charge fretful, saying a respectful fear keeps you alive, Zofewa replies if hadn’t a sense to move the woman to not to safety but as he calls it a cooler place, he’d fight them more back then. When his face turns their direction it’s there again, the golden hue. Those eyes shook the women to the soul.

 

The brute managed to let waists go, bent the legs and leaps tens of feet, landing audibly on the ground. Propelled by powerful legs from the entrance. Bonét calls the action, ‘Balls crazy.’

 

‘Good of the many,’ is spoken by Humbrecht uneasy to herself. Visage lost in a thought, taking form in her head she’d get this young man killed, who hadn’t started out in her affairs…Bonét reassures she and she alone, is her own woman, what good can she do a world at the cost of her happiness?

 

 

Too insane to be accepted by those hearing second hand. His approach marked by casually walking into scenery, demolishing whatever matter his athletic form came into contact with, irresistible bulldozer, trail of destruction – a tree or two snap and collapse; larger things have a hole, leaving a channel through a small hill. Without breaking stride, penetrates one side and emerges out the other in about twenty seconds marked by a rumbling sound and rock crumbling. Nature unfortunate to put features around him!

 

He halts near largely proven powerful combatants, folding his arms. Golden hue supplementing his manly pose. These three would miss the little band completely were it not for him. ‘Warping has an especially dramatic change to this one’s body, extending to mind.’ Denearon gauged accurately.  

 

The melee weapon a second time trembles and is suppressed by its ostensible wielder as before. From their vantage point the women can see proceedings. Were not intimidated the three. Their confidence is backed by massive power and fate.

 

Boasts he humanity’s pinnacle. The foes note he’s arrogant to a capital A and walking straight to his death.

 

Mauritz, ‘Mr. big stuff, you may be immense power, but you’re up against immense power.’ Astrid repositions her allies floating them mid-air before placing back down to battle from three sides.

 

There’s a stillness then…

 

Denearon charged, which the brute braced for, only to be slashed in the back by Mauritz, who’d rushed in. Zofewa swings his forearm to retaliate, before it connects, Astrid telekinetically floated him a safe distance. No blood on Zofewa. Pros do coordinated attack.

 

Both discs float above Denearon’s shoulder, pointing forward. A few seconds at a time generate a yellow ripple of light, a light wave, on impact cause concussive force, able to knock Zofewa back before dissipating. ‘Given what I’ve seen not surprised standing like a wall of defiance. No matter Humbrecht will fulfil duty!’

‘Isn’t my presence a sign fate is with her?’

Outdoors Astrid arm gesticulating had small to medium sized rock at her disposal. Some begin smashing into his body at high velocity. What’s more kept some flying around in the air instead of picking more off the ground. Their power such that he was battered around…a hurled rock the brute grabs and throws one back flying for her face - stopped mid-air. Her’s is the jaw he holds between his index and middle fingers and after a few moments releases. The momentary distraction let him get close to her.

 

Mauritz gasps in fear.

 

Through grit teeth, ‘You’ll live to regret that!’ she vows.

 

The fight went on with him trying to fight back and them looking to evade his blows. This rhythm went for a time.

 

First to perish by decapitation. Head gone with a simple index finger flick. He managed to get close again.

 

‘No!’ screams Mauritz.

 

On death the rocks fall. Zofewa blasted by a beam of light again.

 

As this happened, ‘STASIS TEAR!’ Mauritz commands in a tone of wrath. Struck surfaces like the wall or ground has a chunk around a foot in size tear away – here from solid rock, diameter a foot. Rose in the air a few feet, then swung at by the sword’s flat side like a bat, flying toward targets without resistance. Smashing into Zofewa’s back. The women stare in panic. The attacks make him fall.

 

Zofewa is sprawled on the ground unmoving. Till he stirs in a while and picks himself up. The body singed, otherwise unharmed. Mauritz appalled. Denearon analytical, ‘From the mansion attack onward should have died a hundred times. Even the likes graced by the Megantereon would succumb to overwhelming force. You haven’t displayed any special power.’

‘My purpose grants me strength to best all odds.’ The singed part rapidly heals. ‘She I shall shield with the pinnacle of humanity – myself.’

 

The women in disbelief.

 

‘You’ve already seen your last day,’ and blade outstretched, charges in.

‘Watch it Mauritz!’

Reaching within feet, rage fuelled, parries a kick. The exchange is fierce. A solid blow from Zofewa is only fatal if it connects. His enemy evades, landing slashes and tip thrusts.

 

The sword, its blade makes microscopic vibrations at hypersonic speed to aid cutting power, a bit parallel to an electric razor, just fatally sharper.

 

Mauritz performs a mighty backflip evading a forearm swing. ‘Dene!’ the light ripple slams into Zofewa. Under this cover, ‘STASIS TEAR!’ a foot diameter of rock detaches from the ground hit once. Can remove chunks from material due to within that foot radius time flows different from current. Option to deliver one or more blunt impacts increasing potential energy thus the impact force, kinetic energy before sending it. The driven swordsman exercised it, delivering several hits. Zofewa charging the light man, eats it blindside, a projectile of greater force knocks him down, and last second braced himself on the knee.

 

Seemingly on assumption would deny him recuperation, ‘Stay and die.’  Denearon gives light beam bursts from the discs simultaneously the Negro sprawled on the now heated ground. The light clearly visible to the women. He delivers two extra while down like this.

 

Battle pauses.

 

Bonét shakily, ‘Wa…wanted me to fight folks that dread?’

 

Denearon walks over to the thoroughly singed man taking his time. The warmness the heated ground emits felt. ‘Bet you mad to feel a living soul can survive that.’ The attacks, mansion till now by rights would break every bone in his body?

 

Under assumption he out for good, ‘Mauritz, men like him would not leave Humbrecht far. We search.’

‘But Astrid!’  

‘Humbrecht will pay dues, fates willing.’

 

Playing possum a time honoured tactic. The singed stirs again – what followed left no time to think - the brute snatched the man of light bodily and tossed him high velocity at Mauritz a few dozen feet across from them. With a moment to impact – ‘STASIS GUARD!’ Denearon’s whole body stopped moving, hanging mid-air, inches short reaching the swordsman. De Wiart without pause immediately barehanded thrust into sold ground, scooping out a rock chunk each hand. The first thrown at Mauritz who ducks and the second comes even faster if possible at him this pose. ‘STASIS GUARD!’ from his ducked posture managed parrying it by sword. The projectile lost momentum, hanging in the air, in a flash with a single powerful strike sent it back De Wiart’s way. Who leaped in an arc towards them.

 

Under a foot separation from a man readying a punch in the air, Mauritz yells, ‘STASIS HOLD.’ The sword touches the brute – all it took to have him frozen mid-air, practically still. The fist several inches from his face.

 

The light man landed safely on the ground. ‘You are a warrior to envy no one. And thanks.’

‘Hah, hah.’ The man felt that excursion. ‘Guard is expected to stop organs of living beings it applied to. Hold off the thanks chum.’

 

Stasis guard - a sick parry applicable to projectile attacks once connected with by the weapon, if struck the projectile comes under effect, losing momentum in fact stops in the air, the user can if they wish knock them away or back to the enemy.

 

Mauritz spoke then turned their direction. ‘No matter what fate did to you, you’ll die.’

 

Their enemy effectively immobilized at their mercy. Limbs for instance move very slowly, bottom of the legs a few feet off the ground. ‘Stasis Hold made you prisoner of time. Slowing an enemy’s movement to near absolute zero once my weapon connects a strike.’

Stasis is to halt time. Mauritz had its power under him.

 

Yet prideful in turn. Zofewa says, ‘It had all been exhilarating fun.’

The man growls in rage.

‘GODSPEED HUNDRED SLASHES!’ Not hard imagining from its christen. In several seconds this many on his body all over from a hypersonic super blade.

 

Aimed to have you endure cuts and blunt force trauma from the blade. Hold opens you up to many kinds of attack even those from someone else. The sword’s properties are in a word incredible. Any of Humbrecht’s apprehenders can accomplish feats people doubtlessly will relate for a lifetime. Where is the Apeiron?

 

Hit numerous times but no damage manifests, the melee user turns their back to him and next thing you know the youth’s body reacts violently, thrashing to the blunt blows, bleeding plentiful from cuts rendered seconds ago, because stasis ended, in other words delayed action, time finally flows normally. The man drops like a stone.

 

Humbrecht’s face is covered by her mouth, ready to cry.

 

Things are quiet, what animals around likely dove underground. Battle pauses again.

 

‘May your pompous face hole be shut forever,’ said Mauritz with finality and walks over to his partner. Their superhuman in a night foe is utterly unmoving.

 

‘Alive,’ says Denearon flatly. ‘Durable he is but your blade specially enhanced by Godspeed by rights would render him flesh, bone and brain.’

Mauritz is beside himself. Mid motion to place the instrument to his back, in a gesture not attack, points it forward…

 

It’s gone. His face nonplussed. Their weapon suddenly is gone.

 

This voice. ‘Gotta be quick on the hints.’

 

Bonét asks, ‘Who in hell that would be?’

Humbrecht says, That being…that thing can no longer be held under the master’s authority.’

 

Annoyance shaped the user’s face not shock for he knew. A new figure materialized from thin air. The sword’s real property.

 

‘No one called you,’ Mauritz dismissively.

Resembled an altered voice, ‘You’ve had it for one night. Been experiencing every strike, the impact coursing through. A rare specimen. We need a way to have Megantereon make warriors this strong every-single-day!’

 

The sword a new form. Inanimate made living by own free will. Living weapon – is the use of a living creature for such. Exist those picked up and brandished as weapons, looking like one. Here though very human like in appearance, intelligent enough and mind own way.

 

An adult male form, packaged in average height, slimly muscular and well-proportioned body plan, but appearance like an altered human, skin looks inhuman, a metallic color, very hair strands looked metallic. Like the blade has some futuristic look though to lesser extent and limb movements produce a faint sound grinding metal does.

 

Ignoring retorts, ‘I was anything but struggling.’ Unspoken air from the user, supposed master, is to literally fight their own weapon. That’s why he had to force its shaking to stop. ‘Return your ass to…’

Gut punch great enough to collapse the user to their knees and in a moment collapse face first in a heap.

 

Elated, turns to the collapsed Zofewa. ‘Don’t take your time. Pick that marvellous body up!’ it stirred.

 

Zofewa stands to Mauritz’s shock and Denearon’s disturbed face. The weapon waited, in a while the brute’s wounds are just about healed up, the blood absorbed, cuts closing.

 

Elated, the humanoid openly admires for one as the youth having a battle attitude. Zofewa thus far displayed durability, strength and leaping, this the strongest his healing shown to be. Which now cleared up the wounds.

 

‘Good and ready now,’ the organic entity says like a chef to a baked duck. Takes a combat stance, claims cold numbers are not in his favour, only to interrupt itself, ‘Where are my manners? Go by Farrago.’

 

De Wiart regardless of what happened to him is happy for this new kind of match and reasserts his presence a sign fate is with Humbrecht.

 

They charge and collide.

 

This remarkable entity proves can put up a contest introducing a new fight style amongst combatants: sporting a male, lean and muscular body plan, light on its feet and athleticism allowed attacking with hands and feet in martial arts, definitely a new mix to the donnybrook, holding its own, but less strong. Strong a relative word. Not taking away from its feats, one move impacted the youth into the ground touching off a brief mushroom cloud of dust and shockwave of fierce wind, buffeting women and everyone else near – the weapon seen already standing over the youth once it ceases.

Farrago says his perception was right. He is a man he will thank for not breaking. Back on his feet and remarkably, then again shouldn’t surprise, his opponent says he happy to meet expectations.

 

Light user, ‘Just how much energy does Zofewa have? Might as well be a superman.’ His very being says this must come to an end.

 

Others like putting youth in a wrestling Body Lock, whereby locked both arms to Zofewa’s hips, lifts him up followed by a slam to the hard rock ground, quaking it. Followed up by about 20 head butts that drove the youth’s skull deep into the solid rock.

 

This organic being demonstrates great hand to hand skill, durability, strength and battle appetite.

 

Zofewa is lifted high in the air one handed and blasted by the light beam Farrago is. Making him stumble and lose his grip.

 

‘Insolent one, you attacked your master. This muscle man has a habit of getting back up. Our presence here is bound to ensuring the woman’s destiny is made manifest, not to satisfy a weapon’s foolish pride.’

There’s only one reaction. Apoplectic. ‘Denearon! Dare cross me? No one interrupts a fight! You’re in for hurt!’

 

All the while talking maintained his gaze on the standing, bruised Zofewa. ‘APEIRON LEUKOS LUX.’

 

What comes next beggars belief: head up at the sky, made a pull gesture with the arm. First moon lit cloud descended from above and got ever closer reaching them at gradually much reduced size of some 10 feet only to fade away, vanish in seconds on contact with the user as if light itself loosing energy, roughly twenty seconds in all.

 

That would leave anyone breathless, only they went on, the twinkling points in the sky, hanging stars, left their positions, their numbers dozens strong taking a funnel like pattern as they fell toward the user, once close are little firefly sized points of light in assorted natural colours and they too disappeared into the user the unbelievable took some 15 seconds.  

 

Next, it too got ever closer, the yellow Luna. Jaws dropped from the women, the youth’s attention focused on the scene. Closer the sphere got, smaller it appeared, dark patches called Lunar mare visible, scar craters, as if not enough other physical features were made out increasingly: hills, mountains, ridges, rocks, dust. The women wanted to run but amazement froze their legs, eyes tracking the celestial body’s approach. Luna orbits hundreds of thousands of miles away, took the first three humans three days to reach from earth 1969. Here merely 20 odd seconds to come within a few feet of the user, halting mid-air low above the surface, a spheroid 14 feet across, a building storey. This close the afore noted appearance intricately visible.

 

‘This, this is crazy!’ Bonét’s tongue managed to gasp.

The light user steely eyed, ‘You’re watching aren’t you? Humbrecht, with this will finally acknowledge whatever fate bestows.’

 

And like before it too fades away on contact when the user outstretched their hand and touched. Bonét shook, thinks to herself he can’t be seriously fighting that thing.

 

Youth assumed a battle stance. Unafraid of a being whose base stats power amplified by no small measure. Light Empowerment.

 

He absorbed ambient light in vicinity into himself. To be precise the sources are still there but the photons no longer reach the eyes of observers whilst the ability active, in ways an illusion – where a bulb should be it may look off, touch and the heat is unmistakable. Delumination.

 

The user’s medium – discs, crack and shatter, means one thing.

 

Denearon explains power. But first a demonstration. Sends flying from their body an energy of light shaped as their body. Travels quickly to a large, distant hill. On contact the whole hill tor becomes yellow light, maintaining its shape, illuminating all a good distance, then in a short while dissipates into mid-air specks which themselves immediately vanish.

 

Bonét is ready to break. ‘Somebody, anybody. Wake me up!’ the other woman squeezed her hand comfortingly. 

 

Dark returns. Denearon. ‘That warm up was Light Transmutation. Solid, liquid, gas. Light replaces matter.’

 

Zofewa verbally wishes his mistress shut her eyes from the light.

 

The light shape hits him. From his spot is replaced by ever growing light, so intense flesh of all save Denearon turns transparent thus outshined the Sun. Light seen from miles away and a portion of environment near youth also reduced to light.

 

No argument he had the greatest attack among the three.

 

The illumination reached full extent and soon died down to nothing after the specks vanished. Where youth should be a large crater. The moon, cloud and such are immediately seen in their original places.

 

Bonét wonders figuratively in her mind where fate headed. The moon shined down. His approach is marked by casually walking right through scenery, not around them, as with that hill tor - water parting straight ahead on the shoreline as waves lap it. Impresses the women accompanying close behind as their shoes nor attire get water logged. Utterly dry. Common sense dictated walk beyond the beach waves. Defies the laws of that, muses the woman internally. Never stopped being impressed no matter how many times seeing it.

 

Bonét is hoping Black Hercules won’t pull any more of that scare running off to fight stuff again.

 

Flashback to the fight, Zofewa stepped out the crater, telling the women when he returned, managed to strike the foe with a small stone in the milliseconds leading up to the attack, disrupted, the man was consumed by his own might…and, ‘Frankly I enjoyed the war.’

 

Later, ‘You and him…the same dude, body?’ she asks.

‘One being I am miss.’

 

Humbrecht walks up beside him. His eyes back to regular. Such as the relationship between them, she stewing in her mind on if this newfound hero is really a man she can call savior, a sudden powerfulness who’d willingly stake all, challenging any who threaten her or his first form was really what she could fall for – his gentle honestly, he'd never do anything to make her uneasy, he while attracted to her always bared respect in his heart of hearts. Divide is not settled.

 

Learned transformation wasn’t wholly accidental, the man’s power influenced to save a woman who he’d in his original form, be lucky if she spared a glance his way. He found her pretty and in ways out of bounds. A woman like her unfit for a wimp.

 

Out of the blue he inquires why Humbrecht abused the young man so – his normal self. The stuff they discussed before all this battle. Indication his powered self remembered the past. ‘Wasn’t it the other woman?’ She asks. He feels the one with power has ultimate responsibility.

 

‘I, I was so scared and tonight proved why. She was to be my bodyguard and did anything I could to make her stay. I treated you unfairly. Your feelings.’

He says respect is dear to him.

 

The trio is quiet as they walk for a period, in response to the girl’s question, Humbrecht surmised he will not keep this transformation, the power’s immensity directly correlates to his strong desire to protect (or be with the woman). The transformation will eventually run its course – his fate uncertain when the time comes.

Resting in a woodsy place with scattered trees. To be precise the women are resting, Zofewa the guardian stood arms folded. ‘They’re coming.’

 

The women are alarmed not him, confidently saying keep resting he is here. ‘Always a pillar of confidence – nothing has proved you wrong.’ The older lady says.

 

It landed on the soil surface from a great leap. Living weapon.

 

The women stare at its appearance. They emphasizing the mission must be complete.

 

They thank the Hercules for taking care of that killjoy Denearon.

‘Fighting and women are not surpassed in joys of life.’ The brute says.

 

The melee user had fused with the living weapon. Farrago is a physical mix of the two, strictly speaking the appearance resembles a morph. More intimidating than freakish. When speaking both are simultaneous. Two differently coloured eyes a condition called heterochromia iridum.

 

Claims the humanoid form was not the ultimate, now they’ll meet it.

 

Turns out youth left him undefeated hoping he’d make a next try, expecting a final chance to stretch out - their pace was kept just slow enough, as the youth arrogantly says. Bonét exclaimed he supposed to have taken care of them.

 

She looks to flee with the woman, shimmering again, the man shuts her saying a travesty if none around to bask in his inevitable glory. The shimmering stops. Returned again, the women witness the golden hue. The fight promised to be intense.

 

‘This is Fusio.’ Mauritz’s ultimate attack, the humanoid by itself wasn’t. Clearly the most unique APEIRON in the trio.

 

The weapon’s persona, Farrago, so far dominated the shared body. The ladies watch with bated breath in plain view of a foe. Clearly their might reached new heights. ‘Tremble.’

 

 

As youth rushes ahead from a distance, the weapon slams a foot to the ground, Stasis Tear tearing a chunk away which floats several feet into the air before flying speedily again under Stasis towards his enemy’s face. Only for it to be caught one handed and thrown back towards the fusion’s own, but in a flash extend an arm to stop it on contact by the index finger under the Stasis Guard and evade an a close in attack by the giant last second. 

 

The weapon uses ability seen in both iterations whether Stasis and close combat manoeuvre. Initially that is.

 

Doesn’t use command phrases – doesn’t need too.

 

Arm severed by bare handed chop, reattached by the owner…after smashing the youth with it. ‘Fusio grants access to new power!’ – effectively casting stasis on itself so the limb is detached but by half an inch the extremity doesn’t fall away any further distance and usable as before. ‘Careful now. I lost time powers as my last form but are expanded this round.’

 

Not the greatest extent of Temporal Healing. The time manipulation only of specific points of the body damaged renders the being largely invulnerable because they can keep going despite harm. STASIS HEAL the fighter dubs it. The power no matter the name does not heal, merely time freezes injury, not letting it reach critical level. The entity can patch up later – when the opponent is planted firmly in the ground they vow.

 

Note in the fight before and present veracity of his toughness is no single strike from a man whose touch demolishes matter, destroyed him yet. 

 

They grapple the other and are pushing against each other, neither budging. Youth with that mouth, ‘Nothing new to the table would make you unworthy of breaking under my greatness.’

 

The exchange of moves resumes only to be abated again. Stasis Heal must not be mocked yet the youth soon by force does damage the entity by a palm thrust. The power is not working as advertised for that specific wound anyway, but the arm wound is still under it. To be clear were it a lesser being enough with but a light touch to blast a gaping hole in a chest – here just a dent.

 

Bonét gasps that should do it, finally she can wake from this.

 

Convinced seeing Farrago proceed to fall backwards, only to instantly stand upright. ‘Congrats are due. That was a hit!’

 

Stasis Heal is seen to fail. Made as a comment to itself thinking out loud. A short explanation happens of what’s been transpiring from Zofewa not asked – confined to skill it’s not, youth has over the donnybrook with the trio gradually would overwhelm their powers. So his brute force can deal with fancy powers. ‘You can tell can’t you?’ Youth declares the will to carry on, to protect her exceeds her foes’ determination to impose a fate.

 

She can only verbally agree. Warping is not equal to all – but here, glad is the case.

With that youth bears down with great energy to be struck, knocking him off balance.

 

The fusion has yet another power - SPATIUM. ‘Fusio’s power do not grant me mere time ones alone.’

 

He eyes the unwilling woman iron mindedly. Under the merged state, the iris splits its colour between the melee user and weapon’s. ‘Woman, feel your inevitable fate tightening?’

 

The earlier discussion of fate zips through her mind, so does expecting youth to be bereft of the super form in not much longer.

The weapon takes on an extra part to its character disparaging the youth as not being worth the fight, was it the weapon’s consciousness or its original user Mauritz? The cauldron flames of battling the strongest were second to fulfilling the goal.

 

Spatium gets explanation. Onrushing youth was struck by a piece of debris the weapon casually picked up and thrust at itself to strike the youth who’s in no distance to put hands on him. A Spatial Manipulation is created letting attacks come within a centimeter before being teleported elsewhere.

 

‘See?’ Farrago outstretched a hand, which vanished, a hole in space opens near Humbrecht, the hand emerged and stroked her face, before returning.

As the fight resumes youth’s elbow strike emerges from thin air and odd position to crash into his own neck. ‘Not to boast, your strength your weakness.’ Farrago claims.

 

Spatium wounds youth, he’s not even as spry, movement a struggle. Living weapon does what at first glance looks dangerous, engages a round of martial arts, landing blows, the extra wounds inflicted affirms his power works as his deliberate demonstration already showed. 

 

Humbrecht, enough for him to hear, ‘My faith in you is unshakable. Prove fate has one master – ourselves!’

 

Youth continues at first glance a futile strategy of attack, but this time is allowed to pass totally into the enemy. He literally was no longer seen or heard, vanished from reality. The weapon mulls depositing him on the moon. To shock in seconds is groaning, arms flailing about, torso shaking, a moment later its chunks of body scatter over a distance of approximating ten feet. In its place youth stands. The women run over, before they reach he walks away from the radius of body parts before stopping. Relief not a suitable verb for the ladies. Bonét states if at long last it over. Youth explains knowledge how his power spatial manipulation worked, inspiration for the idea to let himself be taken into the space and destroy them from within.

 

The moon and stars remain shining, surroundings scarred a sight to behold. In the calm came clarity to take stock.

 

‘Time for you to return the real you. Zofewa De Wiart, thanks feel too little compensation.’

‘I can say my original self agrees a duty protecting you Lady Humbrecht.’

 

The body is losing size and muscle mass gradually. Before going, warmly assures Humbrecht worry not concerning her choice that whatever the world says about her, he will be ever always at her side. He tells Bonét think about the feelings of others when she thinks of hurting them.

 

Span of several moments returns to normal. The woman settles the question, with his original form back: accepts him as he is. 

 

 

AUTHOR’S NOTE - ‘I’m not ashamed to say selfish to place the needs of the individual on a higher pedestal than the many.’ A theme encapsulating this story. Giving up your wants is not black and white.

I deliberately put the effort in pages for the part about exploitation and low wages and most of all self-esteem – deep inside I suppose could’ve trembled incorporating something stripped right from my life. That there is what tied me to my story most.

To those who treat workers as roaches to be crushed and abused especially knowing they are mentally vulnerable – ALL THE WORST UPON YOU.

Origin was several years old had the idea in my head of a runt turning the opposite a hardcore. A man for better and a lot worse - originally inspired by if Aoi from anime Freezing, suddenly became manly changing physically dominating, even aggressively hitting on girls of the academy (like pinning them against a wall with his body and raising a leg) and treating Satelizer as a hot babe but protective and a few months back watching the show Princess Resurrection with a similarly weak protagonist entered my mind once more.

Relates closet to my Pretty Pioneer Ny?mash? in calling out attacks and is one very long short story. A novelette. Hadn’t expected New Man to surpass it. Got a much shorter sequel of sorts immediately on its heels, whew. Hardest series I prefer as flash fiction but I broke that already, this story fits that theme well in spite of length.

First ever superhero or is it antihero? I wrote excluding Ny?mash?. Youth’s human part was based on me. To name powers searched out origin of words. See what Spatium and other unfamiliar words mean.

A man’s name: antihero's forename is African Chichewa language for soft. Closest the continent I unearthed has to his weak personality contrasting with the real iron tough Adrian De Wiart, the soldier. Two lines I injected verbatim.

Megantereon comes from a cat, I saw just before writing commenced. Searched African words to use and originally planned on Kadara.

Fella is OP. Chalk it up to confines of short stories or anything you wish reader.

The story name comes from Superman: The Animated Series episode ‘New Kids In Town.’

Transparent flesh came from a dinosaur extinction documentary. When the space rock landed, the impact’s light showed their bones. 

In short stories supposed to get your theme and other contents in the length allotted but make sure the reader has no undue lingering questions. This story feels too long or is it me? Farrago readers might say is dragging the story. You have to balance writers do not always have chance to try new stuff and try to squeeze them in. Living weapon the case here.

Date - 25 February 2020.

 


Submitted: February 26, 2020

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hullabaloo22

This certainly went in a different direction than what I imagined at the start. Some good sci-fi elements, and a lot of well-composed action scenes.

Fri, February 28th, 2020 8:41pm

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Yeah began as a drama for personal stakes and the stakes high too in the battle part. Takes a skill to implement a believable melding of genre. A good chance to push in cool super powers.
Thank u.

Fri, February 28th, 2020 12:54pm

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