Chapter CLX: What’s in a Name? ~Multehx

Pseudo folded his arms impatiently. “Well, go ahead up there and check that box,” he said to Multehx.

The agent rolled his eyes and walked up to the dais. Stepping up to the box, he admired its jade colour with golden trim before opening it, exposing its red velvet interior, hollowed out so that something could fit inside.

“Dude,” he remarked, noting the shape of the hollowed out portion, “I really shoulda known.”

C.R. took a few steps forward as Multehx drew the Rhyjulian from its spot on his back. He hesitated, then laid it down in the case. It fit perfectly.

C.R. whistled and Multehx shook his head. “To think, it was one of the tougher Creation’s Weapons all along…”

Pseudo chuckled slightly, causing the agent to turn his head.

“What’s so funny?”

Havering didn’t answer the question. “Try it in the other side,” he simply suggested.

707 quirked a brow and withdrew the sword. He placed it in the outline in the opposite side of the box. Then, he pressed down. It went down about half way, then wouldn’t any further.

“Hunh??” he remarked, trying to force it down.

Still, it wouldn’t fit, nor would the case yield.

He slowly withdrew the sword, studying it carefully. He then studied the case, then the sword again. Narrowing his eyes, he pointed to the hilt of the Rhyjulian.

“Obviously, this side of the case is made to hold the lettered side of the blade,” he thought aloud, rubbing a finger over the golden “M”. “But, strangely, it seemed to be the hilt that wasn’t fitting; something wasn’t the right shape or size.”

Pseudo chuckled again, unnoticed to either of the others. “And why’s that?”

Multehx looked at the “M” once more, then back to the case. He moved his hand down to point at the outline of the letter in the velvet. “I think it’s obviously this.”

“Very astute call, Sir Agent, very astute call,” a voice from the shadowed side of the room echoed.

“Who’s there?!” Multehx demanded, snapping into a battle-ready stance with the blade.

The figure stepped from the shadows, revealing itself to be none other than Malachai, leader of the Twilighter Council. This sent a cold chill through the agent, but what he held in his gloved right hand sent shock through him as well.

“It’s a…another….Rhyjulian?!”

Malachai simply sneered and Pseudo shook his head. “Not quite, agent.”

Multehx turned to face the Time Bender. “Ok, you obviously know more than you’re telling, so talk!” he growled.

Pseudo smirked. “Well, if it’s so important as to be a call for hostility, I guess I might as well,” he said in a sing-song voice, shaking his head as if the whole thing just amused him.

He cleared his throat, then went on. “A good few millennia and such ago, I used to be the Twilighter Ambassador, you know. And, during my times as such, I grew rather envious of Rhyjulian’s powers; I was more naïve then than I am now, so I thought it might have been his sword that bestowed them. So, one night after a party to celebrate his victory in a tournament, when he was quite well and gone with caffeinated spirits (the only effective kind, really), I stole into his room, took a sample from his sword, then made my way back to my work room, where I burnt the midnight oil performing incantation after incantation, rite after rite, ritual after ritual, well you get the point.”

Multehx flateyed. “All quite nice, but this have something akin to a ‘point’, anytime soon?”

Havering smirked. “Delightful as always, 707, but yes, getting to it, I spent quite awhile working, but finally, several days later, I created a perfect replica of the Rhyjulian, and to christen it as my own, upon its hilt was a golden “P” for my name.”

Multehx nodded. “At’s what it looked like.” He paused. “But you said it took several days…wouldn’t your brother have come looking for you when he awoke?”

Havering nodded. “Yes, he did, but I was in the cafeteria line by then. Because, well, you see, he always did have a tendency to go on the celebrations full force, sparing no extras, and, well, he put away several hundred containers of the stuff before anyone could stop him. And he was quite…out of it for days.”

C.R. smirked. “I somewhat recall that- the hangover heard ‘round the Multiverse.”

Multehx grimaced, then became serious and assumed his fighting stance again. “Ok, now tell me why the nose-bald Mr. Clean here has that bad-ass toy, and just what it can do.”

Pseudo shrugged. “Well, on my travels, I met him once, liked his devotion, and gave it’s location to him. As for what it can do…that knowledge evades me, but I don’t doubt you’ll see soon enough.”

Multehx looked back to Malachai, who was also taking a fighting stance.

Oh great, he thought, I go in here not knowing WHAT this thing can do, HOW to beat it, or even a strategy against the old man, whom I have heard to be a very fierce swordsman and ought to be somewhere between a rabid mutant grisly bear and a psychopathic serial killer with a vengeance on the severity level!

Malachai lunged, trying to cleave the agent in two, but Multehx reverted to an old but true move of his; leaping in a backward arch through the air, flipping as he hit its apex, and landing on his feet with enough time to spare to get his bearings and block the sword aimed to sever his head from this new concept to him called a “neck”.

Several more blows from the elder Twilighter crashed down onto him, each met and blocked with skilled movements of the agent and the real Rhyjulian.

Christ! He’s not that old for no reason; this geezer can rumble! Only thing keeping me on top is the fact that I’ve got a bit less rockin’ chair time to my record and been in a hella lot more fights.

Multehx leapt to and fro, blocking more sword slashes with his own, having several near misses.

Euagh…this is nuts! That thing is just…oozing the power of my sword right back!” He glared at Pseudo. Not remember my- he probably just didn’t say cause he wants me to loose! He knows this guy’s not as tough as me, and he could easily revive and smash this dude if need be!

The swords’ shrill echoes filled the chamber as they clashed with great force. It continued for near hours, Malachai not scoring a hit, nor Multehx being able to do an attack of his own.

Multehx snorted, trying to regain his composure though he could feel beads of sweat running down his face.

Gaw…I…can’t…get…a chance…to…HIT him!! Sure, he might not be doin’ any damage, but neither am I! And, at this rate, if he IS as powerful as he seems, and as smart as these old guys get, he’s probably found some way to conserve his strength, and’ll just unleash the brunt on me when I’m tired out and can’t put up a good resistance.

And, Multehx was most likely right. The fight probably would have continued for hours on end, had it not been for the “shadow blast” hurled between the two combatants from above. It did no real lasting damage to either, as it wasn’t aimed to injure, but it did drive the two apart. And, as Malachai’s grip on his sword never tended to be that tight, it flew from his hand and imbedded in the rock floor near where the two had been fighting.

A dark, creepy, but slightly familiar laughter filled the room, and the lights dimmed as an intense blackness filled the room. As said in many a book, not just the absence of light, but TRUE blackness; i.e. dark as dark could be, but there was a faint outerglow to your clothes, and hints of brighter darknesses illuminating your face from the massive concentration of dark energies at the center of the source. The center of this source seemed to be located on the middle of the ceiling. Then, it dropped to the floor. Apparently, gravity had some affect on it, as when it landed, it gave to the impact, and had to stand up, and thus the source of the energy had moved up slightly. It began to fade, and light began to return to the room, though the walls remained oddly pitch black with torches adorning them.

The source of the blackness could be seen to be a figure, and as soon as more could be made out, Multehx, C.R., and even Pseudo paled in shock and felt their skin go numb with chills. Malachai even stared on unbelievingly as the figure walked casually over to the blade, kicked it with a boot, sent it spinning into the air, and neatly grabbed the handle with its right hand.

It then looked over at Malachai, and casually stated. “Thanks for wearin’ him down for me, gramps. You can take a seat and listen to some records or somethin’ now, I’ll take it from here.”

Malachai had no control over his body’s reactions, so it could only instinctively back off. The figure grinned, then turned and headed for C.R. “Well, well, well, nice to see you again. How’s business bein’ a busybody?”

C.R. frowned, though still too nervous to speak. The figure then turned to Multehx, who was somewhat calmer, as the two had dealt with one another in the past. He sneered and took a few steps closer.

“Ah, I was wonderin’ when we’d cross paths again. Seems I always encounter interesting new people, places, or ‘toys’ every time we do.” It stopped, pulling out the fake Rhyjulian and admiring it. “You have one, now I have one too. Now we’re even.” It snickered slightly. “’Course, until I get tired of your amusing persistence and discard you.”

Multehx frowned. “It still hurts to hear those cold words from your mouth, you know.”

The figure glared. “Why? It’s obvious how cold and uncaring a person I am to so easily say such things, or is it you just don’t want to admit it to yourself?”

Multehx swallowed, shaking his head. “No, I accept it. I know it’s somewhat true, but I’ll never think things are so far gone as to become…so…so…”

“Evil?” the other grinned ruefully, folding its arms, sword still in hand. “How droll hearing it from you; C’est tres amusant!”

Pseudo looked nervously at C.R., who was now only a few feet away. “Rip Watcher, tell me, is what I’m seeing…real? Or just some grand spectacle illusion?”

C.R. shook his head. “No…no illusion Havering. You even heard it- no one could do it down to the accent even.”

Havering nodded slowly. “Yes, and I tried sensing the magik auras of those present in the room…”

“And what’d you see?”

Pseudo gulped. “Only you, myself, Malachai, and Multehx.”

“That’s what I feared…my abilities told me similar.”

Multehx and the other continued talking as it idly circled him, tracing the tip of it’s sword at his neck ever so gently.

“So, what brings you here?” Multehx asked.

The being smiled. “Same as always.”

Multehx nodded slightly, as he did not want to cut his own neck. “And what ace do you have up your sleeve this time?”

Again, the figure smiled. “Something quite interesting.”

Multehx paused, then asked, “And…chosen what to call yourself yet? You seemed to be at a loss when last few times we met.”

The figure grinned, lowering its blade. “You really talk too much, you know, but I shall humour you, if only because.”

It trailed off, but Multehx didn’t need to know what it would have said; he already could guess. The figure walked back to his front, pacing away from him.

“Hmm, a name, a name, something that must be fierce, yet portray my inner delicate nature. Something purely maddening, yet the most logical words to cross mortal and immortal lips alike. Something as mysterious as an eternal enigma, with each move unpredictable and unable to be second-guessed.”

It spun on its boots, grinning slyly. “Tehxnot’lucan fits, I feel, don’t you think?”