By: M Monroe Casey
Part One
He could easily remember how it felt. Images stuck in his mind so vividly, he and every other Doenca that he conquered in his path of power, could still feel them.
All of it founded in one of the strangest yet most brilliant and natural sensations that he ever felt. Stemming from the day that the persona known as “God-King Doenca” was born. It was the splendid day that he became addicted to his “truest purpose.”
First, he was just like the rest of the other thousands upon thousands of Doenca. He was Hopeful Doenca and was merely stuck with a single trait and existed in that one plane of existence. Forced to live out all of his days as hopeful and nothing more. He couldn’t know what it was like to ever actually achieve what he hoped for. He could never even have any resemblance of achievement, no matter how small. All he could do was envision and wish for it but never see it actually happen to him. Even events like building strength through walking or eating were pointless because they never really produced any results. They too were immediately reset upon every sleep. But it wasn’t like this with them all.
Those beautiful accomplishments could happen to Jealous, Runner or Honorable. Those amazing accomplishments could happen to Smart, Peaceful or Cunning.
But not to him. It was an existence truly alone and pitiful in that regard.
That was until he began his most perfectly accidental addiction.
Hunting and glitterizing each and every last other Doenca he could find.
Remembering his first moment of this new path, he could still almost smell the icy fields or feel the cold wind of the Northern Tundra blow on his face on the best day of his life.
Because it was on his particularly windy day that he was out walking on his own across the small trails throughout the cracks and crevices in the land. Hoping to change what he knew he clearly could not. He just wished he could wish away this fated existence of his but that was just it. No actions could ever be done about that either. At least not on his own.
Knowing he could merely hope, he continued on walking, trying to put his hyperfocused brain to work on a possible solution when he turned a corner on the thinnest and most icy path in the area to find him there. Bested in a fight with Mysterious Doenca, Stubborn lay on the ground, reeling in his pain. Big gashes across all his limbs, it was clear he was almost beyond injured at this point. He was on his last breaths. Heavy breathing filled the rebounding space.
Walking up closer to him, their matching blue eyes made contact at the time. Stubborn’s matching blonde hair was all disheveled as he looked up at Hopeful with hate in his eyes. The usual “Doenca to Doenca” hate couldn’t be acted upon though because no energy of any significance existed in this quickly fading body. Then, with a haunting cackling chuckle, Stubborn faded away into golden glitter in front of him. Golden glitter that immediately gravitated to and assimilated to the closest available target. The soon to be created God-King.
Feeling a strange burning sensation in his mind within a few seconds of it landing on him. Hopeful dropped to his knees with a scream in the small tunnel. Bloody knees were instantly created, ones that would probably heal in the next sleep, so his brain didn’t even think about that for now. He was all too focused on something else to realize that those days were over.
“AHHHHHHH!!!!!!” Holding his head now, he could feel the darkness overtaking his mind now. Yes. All that he once wished for could be his. Only his. It deserved to be his. His and his alone.
With eyes beginning to see all of Stubborn’s memories, he could feel all his feelings and along with his one trait too. Talking to himself in the half-lit darkness, he knew he could never go back now as he muttered his truest and finally obtainable wishes, “It is clear… the others have spoiled so much. Their epidemic spreads throughout the Cosmos. The lives they take. The hearts they break. The pain they make… but… no more. Now… the God-King shall riseth…”
Getting up to his feet, his white boots gripped into the ice as he also cemented this moment forever too with a few more comments, “… but they will just ask me to change if I try to change them. But… Why should I be the one to change? Why not them?! Their hate is a disease but I can not cure them easily. No… but no… I do not have too. Because… why cure weakness when I can cure death itself… yes… that is it. For this feat, then, they will never cease to worship me.”
Reaching the end of the tunnel, he emerged to look down upon the encampment where he came from a few hours ago. Doencas living amongst each other but not by choice. Out of pure necessity only but if they had their way, they would hunt each other to oblivion within a few months. He saw it almost happen before in the recent past. He knew where their path led so it was up to him to help change it. With a deep intensity in eyes, God-King Doenca looked upon it all, each and every last powder white snow-built hut. Finally able to do every last thing he
wanted to do, all complimented by a stubborn attitude that refused to do them any other way.
He must glitterize them all. It was the only way to truly save them.
Then, he would use that new strength to give his brand of immortal hope to the Main Ring and beyond.
“I do know now why I was created. It was for this and only this… For I am the Doenca.”
Part Two
As the flashback in his mind ended, the 1666’s God-King Doenca walked through the old lair of Doenca the God-Like in the modern era’s planet of Tirado. Slashing up all he could find in there. Well, all but one thing. He just had to make sure he destroyed all plans or any sort of schematics that could stop what was coming next. Turned off when he assimilated God-Like in the 1980’s, he now returned to activate the machine one last time as it was almost time to act.
Being originally designed to obliterate the stars above by overloading them with compounding power through drawing it out and forcing it back into the star like an infinite pipeline, he wanted to change that. The long, thin and shawarma cone-like silver metal structure had a new purpose. Once he infused the small reactor of it with the energy of the great supersword itself, Pyroclastia, he would be able to spread eternal life versus doom to all. Connect that with the heart of his falling friend there and the once feared “murder tree” would do just the opposite. But not just the stars, for it would be all the Cosmos that would be gifted by their greatest leader.
Crowopolis was falling to the center of the Main Ring and there was nothing that any of them could do to stop it. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t use it to his advantage. Marche would be returning to the modern era soon and the hive mind gave him the exact time and moments to prepare the best “welcome back party” for his creator. But for now, he began to test out his newest strength. The true strength of the God-King was on full display on the Windowsill now.
His two super-sword combination of LightBlaze and DarkFlame proved their worth and reputation as did the increase of strength from the thousands of assimilations he has now done. Literally crushing the metal flooring with his steps, the God-King swung his sword in the direction to the left or right, shattering whatever he desired in any of those directions. Whole walls of solid rock were blown like sawdust as his two tattoos of swords glowed on both arms. A devilish smirk on his face as he approached the keypad and typed it in once more.
Up four, up eleven, down ten and down four.
Then as the whole center pole began to slowly rotate and then build up speed, he turned his back to it with a smile. Warming it enough, he abruptly and aggressively brought his two-sword-in-one combo to it too, shattering the whole structure upon instant impact. Walking through the rubble as his steps crushed whatever debris he tread upon, he picked the small reactor core and pocketed the still warm small metal disk. As soon as it dropped in place in his pants pocket, he could feel the hive mind bringing the exact news he was waiting for.
Marche has finally returned with Freezecry. The last pieces of the puzzle were here.
With a smirk more devious than ever before, God-King Doenca walked back to and through the entrance of the cave-like lair before he brought his immensely powerful weapon to the walls of it too, crashing down the whole mountain it existed under. Laughing intensely while doing it.
Click.
The Crow of the Mountain landed in the white stone covered main party balcony of the modern era’s Royal Palace. It was still the 1666 timeline but now, none of that mattered since he came back. The 1666 and “old past” didn’t exist now. Now, it was only the timeline he helped make and that was it. He would just replace the “old past’s Marche” and all would move forward. Stopping in place while he realized this with a moment of glee and pride, he knew he couldn’t wait too long. Dismounting from the Crow and then calling his friend back to the winged tattoo on his arm, he then quickly walked across the space. Seeing the modern versions of Bnonoa, Hagro and Udo through the grand window ahead. One sitting in the place where that awful and outdated mural used to be. Luckily for him, it wouldn’t be too hard to explain it all and why. They knew exactly what happened, along with each of the Goddesses and a select few other beings across the higher level of the “Cosmos hierarchy.” Plus, seeing as it all led to Udo still being alive and a bloody and pointless worldwide revolution was avoided, it seemed at first glance to really be the best for everyone. Looking out to their left as the commotion died down from seeing a massive crow land on the party patio, they smiled back as he approached. The brukev-less brothers were back and reunited on a team.
Walking out to join him in the outdoor space, they all stopped before the celebrations could commence though. Freezing in complete and utter horror as the bright and happy sunny morning sun was slowly and utterly blocked by a giant slowly falling dark gray rock. On top of it, a black barked tree the size of ten mountains put together menacingly sat. Its roots intertwined throughout its rocky home. A shade of blood red capped the end of each of those roots.
A collected “OMG…” was then shared amongst the four Tadala brothers, CJ and Monica as it continued to slowly drop towards its destination.
Part Three
Across the Cosmos, the Goddesses of Acting, Design, Stars, Beauty and Lighting slowly started dispersing themselves to prepare for the worst. Under the guidance of the High Goddess herself, they prepped themselves on Sololi, Atala City on the Catalina Sea and so on.
Feeling the incompleteness though amongst them, Accessories was still missing but as each of them felt the surge of pressure from arrival, it seemed that she just got the message from the 1950’s and has come to join the group once more in her post on Tirado. Ready for what’s next.
With each of them also then feeling the almost unstoppable pressure of Crowopolis finally falling, they could each see it block out the moon on each of their respective planets. A power so grand, maybe even together they couldn’t stop it. Maybe no one could.
But they were still given very specific instructions: be the first line of defense against whatever may come now. Seeing them all in their defensive positions, Monica sighed a little bit in relief then hit the button.
Click.
God-King Doenca, still wearing his golden battle armor from before, slowly walked into the empty darkness ahead. Confidently strutting towards his ultimate goal as the soft dirt of Crowopolis’ flooring crushed under the pressure of his immense power.
Walking ahead with an intense look in his determined eyes, he muttered his favorite string of words known to his limited Doenca vocabulary, “… long live the God-King.”
Walking through the veins of the tree, he continued towards its heart chamber ahead. A wide open cave like space, so similar yet so very different from where he was created. This perfect new space would be where he would find the ultimate prize waiting for him though.
The core of Brinay.
Walking through the darkness with his sword tattoos lighting the way, Marche and the Crow of the Mountain landed outside of the core as he knew exactly what he needed to do. It was almost like his body drove him there like a sense of autopilot. Accessing the memories of one he learned as Santi, he saw him do the same thing towards one named Sixth. Who also existed within him now. He could feel all of their fights and conflicts too. All of their pain. Their suffering.
Searching through their memories, he quickly caught himself up on what came before. The quest of Santi and Bubbles with the walls that he promptly stopped only a few moments ago, Eternal Doenca and his crown of the hive mind and the great machine of Doenca the God-Like. All of these memories and more experienced by lifeforms he never even knew existed.
Lifeforms that housed one thing far greater than their collective anger or hatred.
One of the deepest senses of loneliness and sadness that he has ever felt.
But none of that mattered right now as Marche called his friend back to the tattoo in his arm and then walked in. His midnight black armor instantly fading into the darkness ahead. The light of Freezecry’s tattoo on his other arm lighting the path, similar to the one who led the way.
His gut feelings could feel the shutters getting stronger though too.
For every last Doenca and their creator now existed within the wooden walls of their new host.
Reaching the heart chamber after a few minutes of walking, Marche’s brown eyes adjusted quickly as he looked all around the massive space. Over two hundred meters tall with a large black trunk in the center of it all, the dimly lit space didn’t match the light of the day outside. Truly sitting in the middle of the Cosmos now and holding the fate of it in their hands too, there was one other being in there with him. Not needing a second to know who it was or why he was doing it, the Doenca within him cried out the name of their greatest enemy.
(God-King…)
“Marche…”
(Don’t do this and it’s not just me.)
“Oh, I absolutely have to do this and what? I am supposed to be impressed that you gained a couple Doenca along the way? Runner, Petty, Smart and the other fools can NOT help you now. You are facing down the God-King and you only have yourself to blame for ever thinking you could challenge me. Sure… they can catch you up on their lives and their little adventures but they are NOT me. They are NOT on my absolute level. No one is. I am THE Doenca.”
He eyed up the blue eyes of his opponent as they took one step closer to each other.
(Oh, I forgot you got Jealous too. It makes sense why you think you are the only one who can lead anyone or have any power. But you know I had a brother like that once and you can just ask him a couple hundred years ago how that went for him…)
“I am so very well aware, my oh so powerful creator… but… I do have something you never will. Something that makes me oh so very powerful and you know it very well. My past.”
They each took one more step closer now.
(Yeah? I don’t have the best past either, as you very well know. It doesn’t mean I can just go defiling the universe because I was mad at my brother…)
“Yes, I know but you can not understand it. You never could HOPE to understand it. You and none of the other Doenca have NO idea what it is like to NEVER ACCOMPLISH ANYTHING. Everyone around you can but you can not. Never progress. Never grow. Never change… No Veronica for me. No Hagro for me. NO Udo for me. NOO Bnonoa for me. NOOO Augustin for me. I can not even die on my own! Do you understand it now?! THIS IS WHAT MUST BE DONE! WE NEED A NEVER ENDING HOPE AND ONLY I CAN BRING THIS! It is my destiny. They need their God-King… their cries of terror and pain literally call for my name… Omg or Oh my God-King. Is that not right?! You see?! They cry for me because only I can do this. Only I can declare it. And I do declare that… TODAY, DEATH SHALL DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Stepping forward again, they were nearing the point of the clash as each of their super-swords began to slowly pulsate on their respective opposite arms.
Marche’s attempt to talk him down was failing.
(I will give you one last chance, stop this before you have to be assimilated too).
“Never. I can NEVER stop or be stopped now. For it will be my name that history will remember and remember and re-mem-ber… Forever and always. I am the bringer of eternal life for all and for that, they will never be hopeless again… long live hopefulness. Long live the God-King.”
Then as Crowopolis drew ever nearer to its most precise and exact point, one synchronized surge of immense pressure between two beings within the heart chamber of murder tree, crashed out all around them.
Charging forward, the fusion of DarkFlame and LightBlaze quickly was called upon and then met the magical steel of Freezecry as their usual action was performed. One tried to absorb the other but as they were pulled apart, the rebounding shockwave of pure energy erupted in every direction.
Standing strong amongst the clash of world shattering weapons being used within it, the true might of Brinay was on full show as God-King Doenca and Marche attempted to finish the fight that was set up, through two timelines and almost a combined couple hundred years between them, once and for all.
Part Four
With Crowopolis itself finally only a few hundred meters from landing and sending its roots of despair and doom in every direction, Marche and God-King Doenca waged their war inside.
A swing of a sword from the left was met with one from the right in a classic sword duel fashion. God-King tried to sweep his left leg with his own right only to be blocked by Freezecry.
Boom.
Swords clashed from the right.
Boom.
Swords bashed from the left.
Boom.
An overhead slash was parried with a sideways blocking blade.
Boom.
They repeated the process once more. And again.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.
Each rebounding boom that would have shattered any lesser structure only merely was absorbed by the strange and powerful wood of the “muder tree.” Truly beyond a power level that none of them would ever understand. Stronger than even the power of birthing stars, it was looking even less hopeful that any of them could stop it now. A force beyond control.
But as those two attempted to crush the other in their ongoing clash for the future of all, the Windowsill recorded on its own once more. In a story and new folder of files, it brought its gaze to Sololi but not on the surface of the thickly mountainous planet where the Goddess of Beauty was staged to protect from the impending doom.
It began recording in the core of Sololi.
Deep inside the molten center of the planet, in a non-naturally occurring lair designed by itself, a “Painting Creeper-Like” figure sat in his own small workshop. The dark shaded wooden creature standing Hamza’s height stood up in the equally dimly lit space. Staring at its table ahead and what it just finished building.
Through its bright green eyes, it happily looked upon an almost exact replica of the same Windowsill that watched it now. A comment in response then greeted the emptiness, “More watchers. Home falls. Gollaknor rises.”
Then, with a chuckle, Adirondack returned to and continued ticking away on his newest creation as the first file then abruptly ended.
Part Five
Boom.
Bringing their swords away from each other once more, both God-King Doenca and Marche looked to finish it abruptly and aggressively.
The Original One versus the God-King.
A more epic matchup for the fate of life couldn’t have been more beautifully scripted if the “Windowsill-Watchers” tried. Merely watching on from beyond the Windowsill, Monica and CJ could do nothing but trust that Marche could handle it. Even if she got involved, it’s not like CJ and Tadala could be in every place at once when Brinay was finally ready to strike. Even their portals weren’t that fast or strong.
But as they continued to eat their lightly salted and lightly buttered popcorn from Mt. Couch, Marche Tadala continued to bring Freezecry’s steel to that of DarkFlame and LightBlaze fused together as the rebounding booms of pure and extremely condensed energy filled the gaps in their mid-fight conversation.
Boom.
“MARCHE! Give. Up. Your. God. King. Declares. You. To. Give!!! Up!!!”
Boom.
With golden armor starting to crack under the immense pressure they were casually tossing around at each other, Marche shook his head in response to the “would-be tyrant.” His midnight black armor was beginning to finally crack as well. After all the craziness of his last few “days,” it seems that he finally met his match.
Boom.
“I COMMAND YOU TO STOP!”
Boom.
(No. You are not a god. You are not a king. You are not my God-King. No.)
Boom.
“HOW DARE YOU!!! WHO ELSE COULD DO THIS BUT A DOENCA?! THE ULTIMATE DOENCA!!! YOU ARE JUST JEALOUS OF MY GREATNESS. ALL WHO DEFY ME ARE JUST JEALOUS… I AM THE GREATEST FORM OF EXISTENCE TO BE. ALL SHALL JOIN ME IN MY GREATNESS. THE ULTIMATE DOENCA IS I. LONG… LIVE… THE… GOD-KING!!! LONG LIVE THE DOENCA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Boom.
(No and I’m sorry you had to live like you did. But this is NOT the answer. So, how about this?)
Boom.
“WHAT, MY MISERABLE UNDERLING?!?!” The intensity in his blue eyes was growing as his armor was almost completely falling off now. Marche’s too. Underneath a dark blue, almost gray, shirt was worn by both of them. A lighter but still deep ocean blue pair of lounging pants was underneath. Equally worn by both. Somehow matching their outfits under their different sets of armor, their ideals couldn’t be anything close to similar though as they continued on crashing their weapons into each other.
Boom.
(You are nothing more than my nightmare.)
Boom.
“Oh yeah?! Your solution is just to insult your amazing and irreplaceable leader?! Fine then… that may be all true… but what does that make you then?! The grand puppeteer to the greatest triumph of the living soul, ME?!”
Boom.
Crowopolis creeped ever closer now. Only fifty meters to go before Brinay claimed everything.
Boom. Boom.
Marche began to access the memories of all the others once more, cringing while doing it. Seeing how they were forced to live in exile across the Cosmos, they were hunted by each other and others alike. Truly one of the lowest forms of life, it only made sense that one wanted to rise up and change their story. Sadly, by whatever means necessary.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Knowing he could still try to defeat and assimilate him, he knew time was running out though.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.
No. It was too late for that. He already tried that. He had to try something else entirely.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.
Because this was all caused by their hated existence and it was his fault they even existed to begin with. Clones formed by his inability to take on the consequences that once scared him so deeply but it was time to finally own up to what he did all those years and timelines ago.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.
(No. You were my nightmare but it’s time for us to wake up.)
Not raising Freezecry to parry this time, Marche Tadala merely stood there as the overhead slash came in from his opponent. Slamming into his dearmored right shoulder blade and torso, he was instantly glitterized as both Monica and CJ gasped on the other side of their viewing device. Instantly shattering his connection to the Crow of the Mountain and Freezecry alike.
Part Six
The all-to-familiar golden glitter that they have seen so many times then gravitated to a stunned and confused God-King Doenca. Standing there for a few thirty or so seconds as Crowopolis finally fell into place, there were only a few chunks of seconds before their entire fight of the last hour or so was a mute point.
His eyes remained closed. Head lowered. Staring down at the wooden flooring of their even greater enemy. In his weak and tired grip, the long-awaited and completed super-sword sat.
Frozen in place, it was time to decide. Either he could infuse the energy of his newly created pink shaded sword of immortality to the machine core in his pocket then attach it to the trunk or the roots of the great destroyer would strike first.
But he couldn’t do either.
(… Noooooo… this is it… MY… moment… is here… but… why can’t I do it?)
His muscles tightened up and stuck him in place, refusing to charge up the reactor core but refusing to attack Brinay either. Pyroclastia was one of the few weapons strong enough to destroy a being as grandiose as this. With the sacrifice of itself being done in the process, naturally. From the forgotten Tadala to the one wielding one of the greatest forces of all, it was truly a time-jumping adventure that did change everything as he once sought to do. Now, all he had to do was decide what to do with this newfound power of his. For it was his choice to make and his alone.
(But… this is all I ever wanted, right? To never be… forgotten again… I CAN do that… I can make that a reality… Yes. It’s who I am… Veronica… my brothers… they need each other forever… I need them forever… yes… I have to do it…)
He stepped forward and reached for the machine piece in his pocket. Pulling it out, he smirked as he began to call upon the immense power of immortality coursing through his entire form.
(No… no… it is not who I am. I can not do this. Wait… no, I can… I am a Doenca… I am the Doenca… No… yes… no… yes… no… yes… maybe… yes… no… maybe…. I am… the Doenca… No… yes… no… Am I a Doenca? Is… this… who… I… truly… am…?)
Evily smirking once more, he slowly reached down to the small palm sized silver core in his left hand with his pulsating rainbow colored right hand as Brinay was slowly reaching up its roots, calling upon its great lances of death to strike in every direction. The Goddesses still waiting on each planet on standby for the worst to soon come. His existential crisis was nearing its boiling point now.
But before he could reach down and activate it, his left hand squeezed and promptly crushed the fragile and technically complex disc.
(We are the Doenca and the Doenca is Marche.)
Opening up his eyes, one left blue and one right brown, he raised his head up too to showcase his new hair. The left side was blonde with the right side brown. Truly split between Marche and all his Doenca counterparts.
All perfectly represented. Balanced.
Then before another moment of triumph could be felt from amongst anyone witnessing this or living it, it happened.
Brinay struck.
With its Earth’s moon-sized roots rocketing off in every direction, Marche Tadala then acted by calling upon the power of Pyroclastia itself. For another use entirely.
With the sword hilt in his two-handed grip, Marche swung it to the trunk inside the core of the great lifeform.
Utilizing his full strength, finally in unison, Pyroclastia proved to be too much for Brinay’s trunk as the reverse of the equation also proved to be true.
Shattering themselves upon contact, the once great roots of doom then stopped in mid-space flight. Frozen in their place now too.
Their great master had finally fallen, in a completely new way now.
Retreating back to the new planet in the center of the Main Ring as it was on its last breaths, Crowopolis and beyond was saved that day as the shattered super swords of creation, death and time granted then quickly fulfilled one last wish for their extremely tired wielder.
Forming a flaming red portal where the trunk of the tree used to be, Marche Tadala slowly stepped into it and as it closed, a quick view of a smiling Veronica Dancer could be seen on the other side. Hugging onto her man and kissing him long and beautifully there.
His mission was done so now, it was onto their own world of paradise. Connected to the others when they still wished but with their duties and obligations to life and the others completed, it was time to retire from world and timeline saving.
Finally able to rest.
Balanced, calm and together, nestled in the embrace of their love, forever and always.
With the “Windowsill-Watchers” seeing the slowly ashyifing murder tree, the Goddesses returning to their respective homes and the Tadala brothers taking a sigh of relief after Marche completed his promise, one more thing then caught their attention.
In the now dusted and empty streets of the ancient black rocked city of Crowopolis, a few coughs were heard as the once dormant residents then began to move about.
The End.
Castle Johnson Publishings 