Chapter CDVIII: Underlings: Nothing to Snicker At ~Multehx

Thousands of years before the events of the present came to transpire; it all started upon Caelum. With a war. A war among the humans. The Magi Council had ruled the human populous of the land since history could remember, members only leaving by their deaths, and instantly replaced with new candidates.

They had brokered an uneasy alliance with the demons at the demon capitol city. They ensured that things flourished, in this land where the force of magik was still commonly known.

But an insurrection arose to them. In the form of a man. A man who devised a way to bestow life to lifeless metal and mechanisms. With him, he brought three men, his chief generals; a reclusive sorcerer of unknown ability, a widely feared shady killer with astounding abilities, and a warrior as noble and ingenius in battle as was his loyalty to the man, the Mechnalord.

The humans engaged in an epic war for many years with the Mechnalord, whose forces seemed to grow by the day. Forces of soulless beings of metal, as well as the humans with corruption in their hearts, and various monstrocities shunned by humanity for eons. They were lead by the ten Sub-Generals, called this as only the original three ever were allowed their particular title. The Sub-Generals ruled the provinces far and wide, with the iron fist of their lord.

But, in the words of a famous literary figure, Mister Dorian Grey,

"All empires fall, there are no exceptions."

And so toppled the fearsome regime. How? Best left to be told another time.

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Kenzo groaned, idly scraping the head of his massive axe along his arm. The scraping of metal on metal grated shrilly, causing the other two to wince at the noise. Omega was highly considering removing a stray brick from the rooftop they were on and beating the offending armament to a twisted pile of scrap, silencing it forevermore. Ratch was considering similar, though more proportionate to his size – like the dumpster in the alley below. He reached a hand over to still the knight.

"Hmm?" Kenzo glanced over to the large robot.

Ratch had a slight twinge in his eye. "Think ya could lay off?"

Kenzo shrugged, sitting the weapon down, causing a mental sigh of relief from the other two. The three sat upon the roof of a towering sky scraper, legs dangling over the edge. They had been around the town, window shopped, and Ratch had even gotten them chased out of several stores by the security. With an irritated sigh, the knight lay back. "Blazes," he murmured, "I'm bored!"

Omega sadly nodded his head. "Yeah..."

Ratch responded with a shrug of his shoulders. "I feel this all tha time." He smashed fist into his other three-pronged claw. "If I'm not in tha fray, I'm friggin' feeling rusty, dammit."

Kenzo raised a fist to the air. "Ditto the brute. Peace is grand, but, it's just dull compared to our usual lives."

Omega sighed, twiddling his fingers. He was the hard core justice oriented fellow, who strived for peace to all, but he really had to agree. Life sort of lacked the zest of continual fighting the man who stood to ruin everything they stood for.

Lethargically, his hovering eyes swept the horizon with a lazy scanning turn. A movement out of the corner of one caused his attention to rivet to this new occurrence. Squinting, he zoomed in on this thing. "Hello, there..." he murmured.

Ratch frowned. "Hunh? Wha?" He looked to the spheredroid, followed his gaze out and squinted himself. He saw it too. "Hey...dat's new..."

"What is?" Kenzo asked with a yawn, sitting back up. Glancing in the direction he saw them looking, he saw the thing and nearly fell off the roof with a shocked gasp. At the last moment he caught himself and instead vaulted to his feet, pointing at the figure with his axe. "ZOUNDS!! THE ASSASSIN!"

"Scilas? No, he's on the other side of town. He and Jaded wanted to try this new place's cuisine out."

Kenzo shook an impassioned fist. "Not that assassin!" He pointed at the figure deftly crossing the skyline, roof to roof. "THE Assassin!" Seething, a jet of white steam whistled from the opening where his bevor joined his mantle-piece, very akin to a kettle on too long. "That fiend was among the ranks of the three generals, to the Mechnalord himself!"

"Wha??" Now Omega and Ratch were up. "How can that be??"

The larger fellow frowned. "Wouldn't that make him.."

"YES!" Kenzo flailed his arm, "TEN-THOUSAND years old!"

The three hurriedly turned back to follow the fellow. "You sure it's him?" Omega frowned.

"Absolutely!" Pointing with his free hand, Kenzo nodded. "See the markings? The garb he wears? Only that rogue ever dared bear them –Good Lord!"

The other two blinked hard. "Uh…greenie, are my eyes failin' me...or did that creep just-"

"-vanish?" Omega glared. "Why yes he did..."

The knight leapt into a battle stance. "CURSES!! He knows!"

The other two glanced back. "What are you so scared about?" Ratch smirked.

"He knows we were watching; He's on to us!" His metal gloves groaned as their grip tightened. "He's coming to finish us now…"

* * *

Scilas grinned, stretching noisily. Jaded joined him shortly after, the glass door to the restaurant swinging shut. "But DAMN I told ya it'd be good!" the assassin grinned.

His mercenary friend nodded. "Have to concur there. Not often you get as exotic a selection."

"I have to agree," a new voice chimed in.

The two looked over as a fellow leaned against a mailbox. He sported a wide-brimmed blackish-blue fedora, a matching cloak that hung down to the ankles of his rough and worn leather boots, and, oddly, a golden edged mask over his face with no holes and a shiny mirror covering upon the outside. "Not often you get good things quite as plentiful, these days," he added.

Scilas quirked a brow, hand falling upon his sword hilt. "I hoped I'd work off dinner."

Jaded's eyes, Scilas swore, never showed as much surprise and shock. "S..SARD?!"

Scilas glanced over, still in his stance.

The man laughed, and bowed with a flourish. "I am honored! I thought no one would remember me."

Jaded was too shocked to shout warning to his friend, who rushed with blazing speed at the newcomer. He smirked, katana flashing in the setting sunlight. "Never turn your attention from an enemy with speed on his side," he smirked, swinging his blade in a raising arc. Sard chuckled, standing upright, hands by his sides.

A clash of steel filled the air. Scilas skidded back upon the sidewalk, blade shaking in his hand. "What the hell?! It felt like he did the exact opposite, and I mean exact, with a sword of his own!"

Jaded nodded slowly, drawing his blade. "That's definately Sard."

The man chuckled, waving a taunting finger. "Now, now, that's not going to work."

"Just who is this bastard?!" Scilas growled, standing.

"As I said, his name is Sard," Jaded spoke. "I read about him in a book of mine. He was quite fierce a foe: he's a Sub-General.."

"Sub-General? What the hell's that mean? He's in the army?"

Jaded shook his head slowly. "Not any we know. His army's long dead."

"Hrm…so, he's the lone survivor of some army downed a few years back with a chip on his shoulders? Cliché."

Brown gloves tightened on the hilt of the broken broad sword. "They died in battle ten-thousand years ago."

Scilas almost stumbled. "WHA?!" He spun to face the man, sword readied. "Okay, pal...what the hell's going on!"

Sard chuckled jovially. "Sorry; you're not ready to know." With a flourish of his arm, he simply seemed to blink out of existence.

The two remained in their stances for a few moments. Then, sensing danger was gone, they relaxed. Jaded groaned, shaking his head. Scilas sheathed his sword. "We need to find the others. Now."